Odyssey -- Chapter 01 (extended)
I decided to participate in this... contest/project/thing. Please read the prologue/prompt if you are interested: http://techgnotic.deviantart.com/journal/Odyssey-Into-2012-272543956
This is the extended version of my dA submission. Check it out -- I had to limit it to 300 words, so it was a pain in the butt!!! Also, A/N's are there instead of here: http://hikagi.deviantart.com/#/d4ih38u
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Odyssey Into 2012: Chapter One
"West Wind" (extended)
After she steps through the gate, it vanishes behind her without a trace. No one seems to notice her sudden arrival - or even, the very existence and disappearance of the gate - though the area has quite a bit of foot traffic. She spends hours wandering around the streets and alleyways of the city, observing its people and absorbing its culture. Strangely, no one stops or acknowledges her. She eventually settles down in a nearby park, all the while contemplating on the contents of the papers in her pockets.
“Tokyo,” she is sure, is the city she is in. The subway signs, advertisement boards, and newspapers hint as much, although they are written in a language she has never seen before but is familiar with.
However, “Zephyr” could mean any number of things, some of which stems from ancient legends and mythology - mythology that does not originate in Tokyo. But what could it be? Where could she find it? And why does it feel like there is something missing from this picture?
She does not realize the passage of time until she is interrupted from her thoughts when and elderly voice asks, “Excuse me, miss? Are you lost?”
Startled by the intrusion, she blinks shakes her head before focusing her attention on the stranger. She rises from her perch underneath a sakura tree and dusts off her clothes before acknowledging him with a small nod.
“I… don’t think so.” But that does not sound like the right answer even though she knows exactly when and where she is.
“That is good. I was worried when I saw that you were here all by yourself on a school day.”
This sounds like a significant detail, but she is not sure why. “I don’t go to school.”
“Oh.” He looks somewhat surprised. Then he takes another look at her and laughs, looking younger than first impressions suggest.
(For some reason, she thinks this is wrong. He is not young at all.)
Belatedly, she realizes that she has not seen any children during her stay here.
“My apologies,” he says after he stops laughing. “I should not have just presumed...” He trails off, smiling. Instead, he asks, “What is your name?”
(Something within echoes faintly of, “-mber,” but the sound fades before she can distinguish it clearly.)
“Ember,” she decides, frowning because the word comes out strange. (She hears traces of tanebi in the overtones, and gatsu in the undertones of her voice.) A slight pause, then she adds, “I think.” But now she is confused because the echoes inside are insisting things she cannot recall or even begin to decipher. “I am the last…?”
(The last… what?)
He nods, and it is as if he can understand her fugue state. “You are a long way from home, traveler. What brings you to this part of the world?” When he looks at her, she has the feeling that he is looking beyond her, into things she might have known before or will come to know in the future.
The way he speaks to her is vaguely familiar, and that makes her uneasy. “I’m sorry, but have we met before?”
He gives a noncommittal shrug. “What makes you think that?”
She does not know how to answer. There are currents and eddies in his words, implying things she feels like she should comprehend but cannot. “You’re a foreigner,” she says instead (she does not say, “gaijin.”), observing him more deliberately now. She is not sure where this is coming from, especially since the man seems unassuming and so normal. Almost without her permission, her mouth adds, “You don’t belong here.”
In more ways than one.
He concedes with a small, mocking bow. “If so, then what about yourself?”
A gentle wind breezes through the park. Her suspicions rise when it swirls around him, forming ideas and theories that are almost too quick to name. Then something clicks. Hesitantly, she asks, “Are you Zephyr?”
His grin fades into something more sorrowful. “Child, I am truly sorry this-” he waves an arm, as if to explain her memory-loss and prevailing sense of urgency, “happened to you.”
At this, she frowns for a number of reasons. She hears regret and resignation in his unspoken words; she also realizes that he has neither confirmed nor denied her assumptions about his identity. “Why are you here?”
(Not, “Why me?” or “What makes me so special?” or “Why am I involved?” or “What is going on?” or even “Why are you telling me this?” though they are all implied.)
He laughs again and this time, his smile is mischievous when he deliberately misconstrues her question. “In a land that is home to a thousand gods, what difference does one more make?”
“Enigmatic jerk,” she grumbles, frowning. It is an answer that does not really say anything while revealing something she feels is significant.
But then, something shifts. The air feels colder and she begins to shiver even though she is wearing enough layers to keep her warm.
“Mr. Zephyr?” she tries, but then stops when the translation comes out funny. It sounds too much like Jefferson, and that is not his name at all. “Soyokaze-san? What is-”
“Hush,” he says, interrupting her. He looks preoccupied, listening for something she cannot hear. The change in demeanor is so startling that the rest of her question dies on her tongue. “Entertaining as this is, there is not much time.”
He presses something into her hands and then makes a flurry of motions that are too fast to follow. The wind picks up and a gate starts to materialize next to her.
“You are very fortunate that I am here,” he says while concentrating on that something that eludes her senses. “My brethren are not as kind as I.” The gate finishes forming, and the man turns to her. “I have given you all the help that I am allowed. You will have to figure out the rest during your journey.”
Suddenly, she feels like a little, lost child. “How will I know what to do?”
He sighs, and now he looks tired and so very, very old. “You are not the first,” he concedes. “I have seen your sisters come through.”
“Sisters?” The thought has never occurred to her. (I have sisters?) “Wh-”
Before she can continue, he gives her a slight nudge and starts to fade away from sight. “You said your name is Ember and that you are the last. Remember that.”
The last thing she sees is his vanishing face - his too-old eyes and his too-young smile.
“You have three days. Good luck.”
You’re going to need it.
(fin -- for now)
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And this just proves that Ika cannot write anything under 1,000 words. XD
Now I just need to finish my research paper and pass my performance juries. Good luck to me too! I'm going to need it as well!
~ Ika
This is the extended version of my dA submission. Check it out -- I had to limit it to 300 words, so it was a pain in the butt!!! Also, A/N's are there instead of here: http://hikagi.deviantart.com/#/d4ih38u
---------------------------------------------
Odyssey Into 2012: Chapter One
"West Wind" (extended)
After she steps through the gate, it vanishes behind her without a trace. No one seems to notice her sudden arrival - or even, the very existence and disappearance of the gate - though the area has quite a bit of foot traffic. She spends hours wandering around the streets and alleyways of the city, observing its people and absorbing its culture. Strangely, no one stops or acknowledges her. She eventually settles down in a nearby park, all the while contemplating on the contents of the papers in her pockets.
“Tokyo,” she is sure, is the city she is in. The subway signs, advertisement boards, and newspapers hint as much, although they are written in a language she has never seen before but is familiar with.
However, “Zephyr” could mean any number of things, some of which stems from ancient legends and mythology - mythology that does not originate in Tokyo. But what could it be? Where could she find it? And why does it feel like there is something missing from this picture?
She does not realize the passage of time until she is interrupted from her thoughts when and elderly voice asks, “Excuse me, miss? Are you lost?”
Startled by the intrusion, she blinks shakes her head before focusing her attention on the stranger. She rises from her perch underneath a sakura tree and dusts off her clothes before acknowledging him with a small nod.
“I… don’t think so.” But that does not sound like the right answer even though she knows exactly when and where she is.
“That is good. I was worried when I saw that you were here all by yourself on a school day.”
This sounds like a significant detail, but she is not sure why. “I don’t go to school.”
“Oh.” He looks somewhat surprised. Then he takes another look at her and laughs, looking younger than first impressions suggest.
(For some reason, she thinks this is wrong. He is not young at all.)
Belatedly, she realizes that she has not seen any children during her stay here.
“My apologies,” he says after he stops laughing. “I should not have just presumed...” He trails off, smiling. Instead, he asks, “What is your name?”
(Something within echoes faintly of, “-mber,” but the sound fades before she can distinguish it clearly.)
“Ember,” she decides, frowning because the word comes out strange. (She hears traces of tanebi in the overtones, and gatsu in the undertones of her voice.) A slight pause, then she adds, “I think.” But now she is confused because the echoes inside are insisting things she cannot recall or even begin to decipher. “I am the last…?”
(The last… what?)
He nods, and it is as if he can understand her fugue state. “You are a long way from home, traveler. What brings you to this part of the world?” When he looks at her, she has the feeling that he is looking beyond her, into things she might have known before or will come to know in the future.
The way he speaks to her is vaguely familiar, and that makes her uneasy. “I’m sorry, but have we met before?”
He gives a noncommittal shrug. “What makes you think that?”
She does not know how to answer. There are currents and eddies in his words, implying things she feels like she should comprehend but cannot. “You’re a foreigner,” she says instead (she does not say, “gaijin.”), observing him more deliberately now. She is not sure where this is coming from, especially since the man seems unassuming and so normal. Almost without her permission, her mouth adds, “You don’t belong here.”
In more ways than one.
He concedes with a small, mocking bow. “If so, then what about yourself?”
A gentle wind breezes through the park. Her suspicions rise when it swirls around him, forming ideas and theories that are almost too quick to name. Then something clicks. Hesitantly, she asks, “Are you Zephyr?”
His grin fades into something more sorrowful. “Child, I am truly sorry this-” he waves an arm, as if to explain her memory-loss and prevailing sense of urgency, “happened to you.”
At this, she frowns for a number of reasons. She hears regret and resignation in his unspoken words; she also realizes that he has neither confirmed nor denied her assumptions about his identity. “Why are you here?”
(Not, “Why me?” or “What makes me so special?” or “Why am I involved?” or “What is going on?” or even “Why are you telling me this?” though they are all implied.)
He laughs again and this time, his smile is mischievous when he deliberately misconstrues her question. “In a land that is home to a thousand gods, what difference does one more make?”
“Enigmatic jerk,” she grumbles, frowning. It is an answer that does not really say anything while revealing something she feels is significant.
But then, something shifts. The air feels colder and she begins to shiver even though she is wearing enough layers to keep her warm.
“Mr. Zephyr?” she tries, but then stops when the translation comes out funny. It sounds too much like Jefferson, and that is not his name at all. “Soyokaze-san? What is-”
“Hush,” he says, interrupting her. He looks preoccupied, listening for something she cannot hear. The change in demeanor is so startling that the rest of her question dies on her tongue. “Entertaining as this is, there is not much time.”
He presses something into her hands and then makes a flurry of motions that are too fast to follow. The wind picks up and a gate starts to materialize next to her.
“You are very fortunate that I am here,” he says while concentrating on that something that eludes her senses. “My brethren are not as kind as I.” The gate finishes forming, and the man turns to her. “I have given you all the help that I am allowed. You will have to figure out the rest during your journey.”
Suddenly, she feels like a little, lost child. “How will I know what to do?”
He sighs, and now he looks tired and so very, very old. “You are not the first,” he concedes. “I have seen your sisters come through.”
“Sisters?” The thought has never occurred to her. (I have sisters?) “Wh-”
Before she can continue, he gives her a slight nudge and starts to fade away from sight. “You said your name is Ember and that you are the last. Remember that.”
The last thing she sees is his vanishing face - his too-old eyes and his too-young smile.
“You have three days. Good luck.”
You’re going to need it.
(fin -- for now)
---------------------------------------------
And this just proves that Ika cannot write anything under 1,000 words. XD
Now I just need to finish my research paper and pass my performance juries. Good luck to me too! I'm going to need it as well!
~ Ika