Mara's Pocky Chain
Elderberry #27. Aether Storm
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1260's-70's
Word Count : 1252 (13-part pocky chain)
I've gotten a little carried away with these ;) Ski and Tristan still need theirs, but I figured the kids could use them too (besides, this ate my last elderberry prompt, yay!) This is probably the most spoiler-filled piece I have posted yet! It goes the furthest into canon chronologically of anything (aside from caramel)
Sorry if some of the characters are vague (such is the nature of pocky) hopefully most are recognizable. Also, this one does not go in chronological order like the others have so far. It jumps back and forth throughout the piece.
Cross-legged on the floor, her back to the bed, Mara reaches under the mattress for the candle that she tucked away after Aunt Kari took the lantern and all her old candles from her room. Reading is certainly a most admirable hobby, but not when it’s done at two in the morning.
Stuffing matches under the mattress didn’t seem the brightest of plans, but no matter. She doesn’t need them. She feels up the candle until she finds the wick, takes it between her fingers and lets out a breath. She lets go quickly and the candle sputters to life.
“Come now,” says Mother, and she’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, all but juggling her blade while Mara struggles to keep hers raised. “Put some fire into it.”
Mara winces.
“If all you know how to do is go through the motions enough to get me off your back, what good is that going to do you when the fight is for real?”
Their weapons clack together. Mara’s swinging with all her might, but Mother keeps pushing. “Like you mean it,” she says, flicking her blows aside with ease. “I know you want to beat me.”
“No, no, no.” She’s sprawled in the grass, skirt stretched between her hands, frantically rubbing at the fresh grass stains. “Aunt Kari’s going to kill me!”
Millie looks up at her, with what might be concern or might just be a cat being a cat, and meows.
“She’s not going to know.” She rubs and scratches at what was a new dress until her ears hum and the world spins and bits of green start to flake off on her fingers.
When she uncovers a tear, she utters a few words she’s heard from Momma. “That I can’t fix.”
“You cannot simply stand there, stiff as a board, child.,” says Aunt Kari.
“But you’re going to hit me!” says Mara, tensing even more, the wooden blade poised in front of her shaking in her grasp.
Aunt Kari is unmoved. Her own sword hangs casually at her side. “I am going to hit you whether you are still or in motion, so you had best put yourself in a position to hit back, or at least to absorb it. Standing rigidly will do neither. You need to be fluid. Now give it another try.”
Mara swallows hard.
“Momma,” she says, as gentle hands press the quilt around her shoulders. “Tell me a story about the wizard.”
“The wizard?” says Momma, and Mara likes to think she’s not imagining the catch in her voice. “What makes you think I have stories about the wizard?”
“Well…” She rolls over, undoing Momma’s careful placement of the covers, but she has to see her face. “The Red Knight was in love with the wizard, wasn’t she?”
Momma gives a slow lick of her lips and an even slower “yes.”
“You know,” says Mara, “She will see him again. Someday.”
He’s pinning the star on her uniform. Kinari’s personal assistant. Nevermind he’s just done the same for the girl next to her; he didn’t look at her like that. Aunt Kari says he gives her the creeps, and Mara wonders if it’s because it always seems he knows more than he lets on.
The clasp snaps shut and he claps one long-fingered hand over her small shoulder as he rises. “You, young lady,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper, “have quite the future in store.”
From across the room, both the headmistress and Aunt Kari have their eyes on her.
She can see the bottom of the cookie jar jutting out over the edge of the cabinet. Aunt Kari said “no more sweets.” Mother said it was out of her reach now.
Mara may be small, but she’s not helpless, and the eight feet to the top of the cabinets isn’t really that far, she tells herself, thick little fists planted on her pudgy hips as she glares up at the pot of forbidden treasures.
A snap, a shudder, and she is landing on the tile on her diaper-padded backside with a chocolate chip cookie in hand.
They’re standing back to back, weapons drawn, slowly circling as the shadows within the shadows close in.
“Hold your ground,” he says, and she wonders if he can sense her shaking. Easy for him; he must be twice her size and the blade on that axe must be as big as her head. But she bites her lip and clutches the hilt of her sword a little tighter and gives a nod she’s sure he can’t see anyway.
“Until you see the doors,” the man continues. “When you see the doors, you run.”
She’d never thought rabbits could make much noise, but here’s one keening its furry little head off.
“Shhh.” Gently, Mara shifts the crumpled body nestled in her skirts for a better view.
Millie pokes her nose under her arm with a curious meow. “Shoo!” Mara bats a hand at the cat and she retreats. “This is your fault anyway. Poor thing.”
She gets a hand on the rabbit’s mangled leg. It’s lucky that’s all the cat got a hold of too. A rush and a pop and it’s squirming out of her lap. She grabs Millie as it bounds away.
She’s staring into the deepest blue eyes she’s ever seen, and her heart’s in her throat because she just knows he’s about to say the words she’s been waiting all her life to hear.
Instead, without so much as even blinking, he says, “I’m not who you think I am, so you can stop looking at me like that.”
She can’t leave the room fast enough to hide her tears as they start to spill.
“You want to see something?”
The boy nods. He hasn’t said so much as a word yet, just a lot of head bobbing and shaking. Mara’s not sure she likes him yet.
“Come on.” When he doesn’t comply, she takes him by the arm and hauls him into the yard.
She grabs the first thing she sees -- it’s a pinecone -- and presses it into his hand.
Ignoring the raised brow and the bemused look from the boy, she pulls on the magic. When the pinecone flips over in his hand, his jaw drops.
“It’s even better with dandelions.”
“You did this.”
She’s staring past the fist at her throat to a pair of brilliant blue eyes set in a face contorted in fury, arms and legs hanging limp at her sides, trying her best not to be reduced to a quivering mass of tears and snot, though both are rolling over shaking lips.
“Sethan!” She doesn’t dare pry her gaze off her assailaint, but she’d know Kairn’s voice anywhere. “Put her down!”
The hand leaves her throat, the floor meets her feet, then her knees, and she’s failing wretchedly at the whole not being a quivering mess business.
“Where are you taking me?”
“No time to explain” is Sham’s answer.
“You’re hurting me,” she says, legs churning to keep up with the pull on her arm.
“We need to get there fast,” he says, but he slows down enough for her to find her breath.
“And where is there?”
“The temple.”
“The temple?” She stops so hard she nearly wrests her arm from his grip, and he staggers to a halt beside her.
“Mara.” There’s a desperation in his eyes, and he’s tugging her forward again. “You can put a stop to this.”
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1260's-70's
Word Count : 1252 (13-part pocky chain)
I've gotten a little carried away with these ;) Ski and Tristan still need theirs, but I figured the kids could use them too (besides, this ate my last elderberry prompt, yay!) This is probably the most spoiler-filled piece I have posted yet! It goes the furthest into canon chronologically of anything (aside from caramel)
Sorry if some of the characters are vague (such is the nature of pocky) hopefully most are recognizable. Also, this one does not go in chronological order like the others have so far. It jumps back and forth throughout the piece.
Cross-legged on the floor, her back to the bed, Mara reaches under the mattress for the candle that she tucked away after Aunt Kari took the lantern and all her old candles from her room. Reading is certainly a most admirable hobby, but not when it’s done at two in the morning.
Stuffing matches under the mattress didn’t seem the brightest of plans, but no matter. She doesn’t need them. She feels up the candle until she finds the wick, takes it between her fingers and lets out a breath. She lets go quickly and the candle sputters to life.
“Come now,” says Mother, and she’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, all but juggling her blade while Mara struggles to keep hers raised. “Put some fire into it.”
Mara winces.
“If all you know how to do is go through the motions enough to get me off your back, what good is that going to do you when the fight is for real?”
Their weapons clack together. Mara’s swinging with all her might, but Mother keeps pushing. “Like you mean it,” she says, flicking her blows aside with ease. “I know you want to beat me.”
“No, no, no.” She’s sprawled in the grass, skirt stretched between her hands, frantically rubbing at the fresh grass stains. “Aunt Kari’s going to kill me!”
Millie looks up at her, with what might be concern or might just be a cat being a cat, and meows.
“She’s not going to know.” She rubs and scratches at what was a new dress until her ears hum and the world spins and bits of green start to flake off on her fingers.
When she uncovers a tear, she utters a few words she’s heard from Momma. “That I can’t fix.”
“You cannot simply stand there, stiff as a board, child.,” says Aunt Kari.
“But you’re going to hit me!” says Mara, tensing even more, the wooden blade poised in front of her shaking in her grasp.
Aunt Kari is unmoved. Her own sword hangs casually at her side. “I am going to hit you whether you are still or in motion, so you had best put yourself in a position to hit back, or at least to absorb it. Standing rigidly will do neither. You need to be fluid. Now give it another try.”
Mara swallows hard.
“Momma,” she says, as gentle hands press the quilt around her shoulders. “Tell me a story about the wizard.”
“The wizard?” says Momma, and Mara likes to think she’s not imagining the catch in her voice. “What makes you think I have stories about the wizard?”
“Well…” She rolls over, undoing Momma’s careful placement of the covers, but she has to see her face. “The Red Knight was in love with the wizard, wasn’t she?”
Momma gives a slow lick of her lips and an even slower “yes.”
“You know,” says Mara, “She will see him again. Someday.”
He’s pinning the star on her uniform. Kinari’s personal assistant. Nevermind he’s just done the same for the girl next to her; he didn’t look at her like that. Aunt Kari says he gives her the creeps, and Mara wonders if it’s because it always seems he knows more than he lets on.
The clasp snaps shut and he claps one long-fingered hand over her small shoulder as he rises. “You, young lady,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper, “have quite the future in store.”
From across the room, both the headmistress and Aunt Kari have their eyes on her.
She can see the bottom of the cookie jar jutting out over the edge of the cabinet. Aunt Kari said “no more sweets.” Mother said it was out of her reach now.
Mara may be small, but she’s not helpless, and the eight feet to the top of the cabinets isn’t really that far, she tells herself, thick little fists planted on her pudgy hips as she glares up at the pot of forbidden treasures.
A snap, a shudder, and she is landing on the tile on her diaper-padded backside with a chocolate chip cookie in hand.
They’re standing back to back, weapons drawn, slowly circling as the shadows within the shadows close in.
“Hold your ground,” he says, and she wonders if he can sense her shaking. Easy for him; he must be twice her size and the blade on that axe must be as big as her head. But she bites her lip and clutches the hilt of her sword a little tighter and gives a nod she’s sure he can’t see anyway.
“Until you see the doors,” the man continues. “When you see the doors, you run.”
She’d never thought rabbits could make much noise, but here’s one keening its furry little head off.
“Shhh.” Gently, Mara shifts the crumpled body nestled in her skirts for a better view.
Millie pokes her nose under her arm with a curious meow. “Shoo!” Mara bats a hand at the cat and she retreats. “This is your fault anyway. Poor thing.”
She gets a hand on the rabbit’s mangled leg. It’s lucky that’s all the cat got a hold of too. A rush and a pop and it’s squirming out of her lap. She grabs Millie as it bounds away.
She’s staring into the deepest blue eyes she’s ever seen, and her heart’s in her throat because she just knows he’s about to say the words she’s been waiting all her life to hear.
Instead, without so much as even blinking, he says, “I’m not who you think I am, so you can stop looking at me like that.”
She can’t leave the room fast enough to hide her tears as they start to spill.
“You want to see something?”
The boy nods. He hasn’t said so much as a word yet, just a lot of head bobbing and shaking. Mara’s not sure she likes him yet.
“Come on.” When he doesn’t comply, she takes him by the arm and hauls him into the yard.
She grabs the first thing she sees -- it’s a pinecone -- and presses it into his hand.
Ignoring the raised brow and the bemused look from the boy, she pulls on the magic. When the pinecone flips over in his hand, his jaw drops.
“It’s even better with dandelions.”
“You did this.”
She’s staring past the fist at her throat to a pair of brilliant blue eyes set in a face contorted in fury, arms and legs hanging limp at her sides, trying her best not to be reduced to a quivering mass of tears and snot, though both are rolling over shaking lips.
“Sethan!” She doesn’t dare pry her gaze off her assailaint, but she’d know Kairn’s voice anywhere. “Put her down!”
The hand leaves her throat, the floor meets her feet, then her knees, and she’s failing wretchedly at the whole not being a quivering mess business.
“Where are you taking me?”
“No time to explain” is Sham’s answer.
“You’re hurting me,” she says, legs churning to keep up with the pull on her arm.
“We need to get there fast,” he says, but he slows down enough for her to find her breath.
“And where is there?”
“The temple.”
“The temple?” She stops so hard she nearly wrests her arm from his grip, and he staggers to a halt beside her.
“Mara.” There’s a desperation in his eyes, and he’s tugging her forward again. “You can put a stop to this.”