FIC: Wandering About in the Dark & The White Room With the Painted Floor (Rika's version)

Feb 26, 2012 19:21

Two down. Two more to go. I have three hours. I may have to write something short. *sigh*

Title: Wandering About in the Dark
Prompt: 11. Midnight
Word Count: 1035
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original - Streetlight People 'verse
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/RPF etc): none
Summary: Tevan is in a mood and demands that Rika leaves. She finds herself going to the one part of campus that has been calling to her since she arrived, all those years ago.

He told her to leave so Rika left. She packed the tablets back into her bag and walked out of the room with her head held high and her eyes as dry as she could keep them. His anger lately hadn't been the kind of rage that he needed her for. It had been directed at her and there wasn't nothing she could do about that. In fact, her magic wouldn't even touch those feelings, no matter how vile and bitter he'd sounded.

The hurt she felt every time he pulled away was more than she could bear sometimes, but she was learning to deal with it. He was swinging so violently between needing her and hating her. From moment to moment, she couldn't trace his emotions. Maybe distance would help both of them.

It was nearly midnight yet the full moon gave her enough light to see by. Of course, she hadn't been prepared to actually leave the building tonight. Between the pockets of her cloak and the contents of her bag, she had a Reader, the tablets containing her equations, a few broken pieces of chalk (she'd lent all her good pieces to Tevan and hadn't had a chance to put a fresh supply in her leather chalk bag), the shawl she wrapped around her shoulders when she got chilled while doing her school work, and a few handfuls of nuts. If this kept up, she would need to pack better provisions.

There were still some buildings with lights in the windows but Rika had to real desire to explain her situation to anyone. Since there would be the inevitable questions that she was unable and unwilling to answer so it would be better to stay away from people for the time being. She had no desire to hide out in Administration or Gymnasium. The Honor Guard was sure to find a good reason to detain her if they caught her in any of the usual places.

That left one building on campus. It wasn't on any of the maps that she'd seen of the school grounds nor was it on any of the tours. As far as she could tell, no one went there at all. In fact, there was no path to speak of. She circled the copse of trees that ringed it once and found no obvious way in. When she broke through the tree line, Rika found herself holding her breath, waiting for the yelling and cursing of the Honor Guard on the hunt.

But no one came for her. There was nothing but the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Even though she claimed to like the countryside better than the bustle of the city, there was something about the lonely sound of a tree in the wind that still frightened her after all these years. Sometimes the wind was so invisible that she couldn't tell why the branches were moving and her mind, always analyzing the cause and affect of everything that surrounded her, didn't take comfort in the strange movement. Tonight, especially, she found herself more spooked than she might normally have let on. Wrapping her cloak more tightly around her body, Rika ran for the sanctuary of the building.

A covered porch circled the entire building. Rika walked around the perimeter three times before stopping to consider her options. Something about the set up worried her. There was magic here but it seemed relatively passive. None of the doors or windows had changed locations on any of her trips. On the second trip, she had taken out the nuts and began dropping them at regular intervals on the slightly warped boards. Every single one was still there on the third trip.

"You're worrying yourself for nothing," she whispered to herself, her heart rate accelerating as a bird answered her back with it's own raucous tones. Rika shook her fist in the general direction of the noise. "Go away, bird. I'll not have you following me today." When it didn't answer her back, she tried concentrating on the task at hand once again.

Her main concern, at the moment, was which door to enter. There were four of them, laid out perfectly even, around the circle of the building. Each one had a word carved into the wood of the doorway but she had no idea what they meant or why they were over the door. The one she was standing by read White. The others, if she moved in a clockwise manner, were Grouse, Journey and Set.

When she pulled out the Reader and did a search of grouse, she saw that they were extinct birds. White was a color. Journey was something you went on. Set was a verb. Noun, noun, verb, verb. Although journey could also be a verb and white could also be a verb. The more she thought about it, grouse could be a verb (Tevan's grandmother had often said that her grandson could grouse like no one else when he got it into his head to be upset) and set could be a noun.

She pressed her fingertips into her temples. All this was giving her a headache on par to some that she got when she had to really concentrate with Tevan and his rages. Maybe they didn't mean anything at all. But what if they did. No one carved words above a door if they didn't mean something.

If she counted the letters of the words, she came up with five, six, seven, three. Almost a circle set of numbers. Only one was even and not prime. It was also the one that reminded her of Tevan. Right now, she wasn't sure why but it felt right that Tevan was part of this equation. If circumstances had been different, maybe they would have come together. It was the word she saw him picking out of all the rest, although she didn't think his reasoning would be the same as hers.

Grouse it was. As soon as she opened the door, she'd known she'd made the right choice. Of course, opening the door hadn't been the best choice but it was done and couldn't be undone. The only thing she could do now was move forward.

Title: The White Room With the Painted Floor (Rika's version)
Prompt: 06. Capricious (changing moods)
Word Count: 1082
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original - Streetlight People 'verse
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/RPF etc): none
Summary: Strange things are afoot when Rika finds herself inside Library.

A flame erupted, lighting the area just around it but nothing more. If Rika could have, she would have stepped back out the door and run back for the comfort of her room, Tevan's anger be damned. Unfortunately, the door had already swung closed, despite her best efforts to keep it open. She'd also tried to stay where she was out on the porch but her feet had moved her forward without any command from her own body.

"Welcome, Daughter of Air. Daughter of East. Daughter of Despair."

That was not the welcome she was assuming she would get. The flare of light was unnerving her to the point where she couldn't pull her eyes away from the wavering flame because it was the only thing that made sense at the moment. "If you don't mind-" she started to say but the light fizzled and went out in a flash.

Her heart rate began to accelerate once again as she fought back the panic. As she did so often for Tevan, she began counting down the things she needed to do in a quiet whisper. "Breathe in. Breathe out. Slow and steady. Feel the ground at your feet. Feel the air against your cheek. Feel only what touches you and none that is apart. This is the only moment that matters. Breathe in. Breathe out."

"Good advice, Daughter of Air. Dau-"

"I'd rather you cut short the introduction. I'm daughter to no one."

There was a short silence and then a deep chuckle. "You speak truth yet there is someone who claims you."

"I don't think Tevan exactly claims me these days." Rika put out a hand to try to find the wall that she thought she remembered seeing in the entryway. It would be helpful to have something to help her regain her sense of balance, even for a few seconds. With all this black it was hard to remember if she was on the floor or the ceiling.

"That is not who I meant. He is meaningless to this conversation."

A single light flared to life again. This time, it was followed by a snap and a sudden illumination of similar small lights hanging all around the circular room. The white walls were bare except for the lights but the floor was painted with the most intricate design that Rika was almost afraid to be standing on it. As she tried to step back, she realized she was no longer standing in the same entryway that she had stepped into. This is another room altogether. When she takes a moment to look around, there are no doors. Not even that were hidden from view by magic.

That was another thing that bothered her. The scent of magic was strong in the room and so cloying that she could taste it in the back of her throat. Fumbling in the pocket of her cloak for the chalk fragments, she drew a sigil on the back of her hand and held it up. Instantly, the strong smell abated enough that she could think for a moment without fearing that she might vomit.

"Where are we?"

The woman in front of her blended almost perfectly into the white walls so that it was almost impossible to tell where she began. Her hair, nearly translucent in the flickering candlelight, was piled on her head in perfect curls the color of mist. Rika had never seen anyone that pale that was still alive. Her skin was almost the same color as her clothing, as if all the life was leeched out of her onto the floor.

"Some say heaven." Her lips were a bluish color, as if she didn't get enough oxygen into her body. It made Rika tremble to think of her coming any closer, perhaps touching her with those skeletal thin hands. "Some say hell. Most will never get to guess. Welcome, Daughter of Air. Daughter of East. Daughter of Despair. Hail, Paragon."

And then it didn't matter that she was afraid of being touched by the woman because she was and there was nothing she could do about it. Nowhere she could go as the papery skin traced over her right cheek and then her left. Over her lips, leaving behind a salty taste that only made Rika want to gag all the more. Over her neck and far lower than her cloak and top should have allowed.

When the woman's hand was flat against the skin covering her fast beating heart, Rika looked down to see that she was wearing the same pale shift. It dipped low over her breasts and swept to the floor. No matter what had happened to get her to this room, she didn't remember changing clothes. With this much magic in the air, it just happened.

"Paragon? I've... I've heard that before."

As if she gave the correct answer to an unasked question, the woman smiled. "Yes, you have. It is what we are. Born on the exact moment of the second hour of the second day of the second month. There is exactly one born a year. They used to come to here to Library to be consecrated for great service but those days are long gone." The woman's face twisted into something ugly, her voice dropping into a much lower register. "The magic is defiled by those who think they can control it."

All this capriciousness sent Rika's already panicked state of mind into full fight-or-flight mode. She pushed out with her right hand, trying to get some distance between herself and the strange woman. She'd forgotten about the chalk sigil still on the hand but it began to burn into her skin as she made contact with the woman. They both screamed, one high-pitched and ragged while Rika's was more of a shout of pain.

The lights all burned out in an instant. In the dark, Rika put out her hand for some guidance and came into contact with solid wood that gave way when she pushed on it. Daylight streamed through the opening, as happy to come in as she was to get out. For a moment, just as the door closed behind her, Rika saw that it was the same entryway that she remembered from when she'd entered. When she looked down, she was back in her same clothing from the night before.

Was it only the night before? With a rush of panic, she began running from the building back toward Jutla Hall and Tevan.

This entry was cross posted at dreamwidth - where the cool kids hang out.

streetlight people, challenge, writerverse, 2012

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