#fff147

A/N: just a tale of a traveller getting confused in a place she’s stuck in.^^

Word Count: 725

TW: None

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Trekking on a grassy path, an adventurer focused on where it might lead her to. Her boots crunched on broken wooden twigs. A stuffy scent surrounded her while monkey shrieked from above. Vines hung together, connected in random shambles.

Does Light Have a Sound?

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial 147th prompt Thank you @katblu42

Does light have a sound?

Colors do

Red is loud

While blush is soft

But light?

Does it speak?

I believe it does

The flash of a lightning bolt sounds like

The angry shout of a forgotten memory from childhood

The light that comes from fresh fallen snow

Sounds like a Christmas carol

The light in a lover’s eyes

Isn’t that a love song?

The sunset sounds like a peaceful prayer

And the sunrise that lights up the nursery where your newborn sleeps

Why that is the sound of your mom’s lullaby.

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s prompt: FFF147 The Sound of Light. This is a scene for my WIP A Match Made in Hell that I will probably rewrite later when I get to it. For now though, the context here is that Caihong is a snake shapeshifter who is the MC of A Match Made in Hell and this is his first and only encounter with Koschei, Feiying’s queerplatonic partner. In A Match Made in Hell, Caihong’s search for the entrance to Hell alongside Other Individuals is to attend Koschei and Feiying’s wedding. Now, context given, enjoy!)

           It was on one of the rare times that Caihong gets to the amphitheatre before Feiying did.

             He was drawn to the stage, slipping down the long staircases and dropping just before it. At this time in the late afternoon, the sunlight warmed the wood and the lacquer. There was a pool of warmth almost delicately framed like a spotlight just off the centre of the stage. As he approached it, he could see the dust motes trapped in the beam, floating as if it was glitter and not just dust.

             He let himself change form, before settling on a small grass snake, as he curled up in the sunlight. His tail lashed out once as he adjusted his position. From here, the rich red velvet of the curtains hung out, the bottoms grey from all the contact with the ground. The gilded ropes holding them by the side were stained brown at the edges, the fraying tassels hanging loose from the knot. Here, he can taste the air, the disinfectant and the washing liquid mingling with the scent of two separate woods: one of the piano at the corner and the other of the stage itself.

             “I’m glad I know it’s you or I would have had a heart attack.” Feiying said when she arrived, settling at the edge of the stage. Caihong raised his head lazily to flick his tongue teasingly at her. “Are you going to change to a form that has the vocal cords for English or should I just hiss at you?”

             He yawned, baring his small fangs before changing back into a human form.

             “What took you so long today?”

           Feiying shrugged. “There was some trouble with the notes today. I was needed to sort them out.”

             Her casual manner betrayed her. Feiying was never still, every sentence punctuated by gestures and movements. Caihong looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. She cringed, running her finger along the edge of the stage as he came to sit next to her.

             “They care as much for me as I am useful to them.” Her voice remained calm, almost easy, as if he could not hear the bitterness underlying it.

             He nudged her shoulder. Feiying folded her fingers into her uniform skirt, before sighing. “I’m used to it. I should be, given how many times it’s happened. But it’s just that I was,” she hesitated, snarling out the words after. “-- reminded that I am only wanted because I am useful.”

             She stood, shaking her head as if she could physically shake her irritation out of her. Her eyes settled on the piano, and she smiled. “It’s okay, I’m… meeting someone later.” She looked over at him.

             “Hey Caihong, have you ever heard what a piano sounds like?”

           “No?”

           “Do you want to?” She grinned wider.

           She didn’t wait for an answer, pulling out the piano chair and opening it. She frowned at the dust, running a finger over the lid a second time before she wiped down the keys once.

             Feiying settled her fingers on the keyboard, running them over the keys once before she kicked off her shoes and settled her feet on the pedals below.

             She launched into a waltz of some sort. He recognised the beat of it, but that’s about all he understood. Her fingers flew across the keys as chords blended. He got to his feet as it became joyful, the chords becoming more complex as the thud of her feet releasing and holding the pedal joined the piece.

             It repeated itself, rising like the sun. He spun on stage, humming along as it deepened. He thought he heard the door opening above, but he was too caught up in the song to do anything about it. The song felt like the time just between the monsoon rains started and the overbearing heat of the sun stopped, like dancing in the grass and throwing his head back while pretending he was someone of value. He felt the richness of it like the rains blowing in from across the sea, like the salt of the sea as it hung in the air just before the lightning struck.

             He felt an almost palpable loss when the song ended, the final chords dying away into the air.

             She turned to him, grinning. “Did you enjoy that?”

             She seemed to lose her confidence, shuddering in on herself as he hesitated after his nod, unsure of how to explain just how much he had felt. “I’m sorry, it’s been years since I played it and the beat was unsteady and I fumbled—”

             “Man’s eyes were made to look so let them gaze—” A voice floated in from the audience. Caihong turned sharply to see a young woman lounging in the first row of seats, her head tilted rakishly to the side.

             “I will not budge for no man’s pleasure.” Feiying finished, her face lighting up. She slid off the piano stool, striding towards the edge of the stage as the unfamiliar woman seemed to unfold herself smoothly from the seat. “Kos.”

             “Hello, Feiying.”

           Feiying seemed to light up as she and the woman stepped towards each other. “I thought you were only reaching later! How—I thought yesterday you said, over the mirror—"

           “I took care of business efficiently.” The woman said, flicking her hair easily off her shoulder. “And you should lock the door behind you if you pick a locked door.”

           Feiying seemed to just remember that he was there, her eyes finally darting away from the woman. “Caihong, this is my queerplatonic partner, Koschei. Kos, this is Caihong, a friend.”

             The woman seemed to size him up in one look, her gaze calculating. He felt the cold of it, as if she was seeing everything about him and every secret he had ever had. “You’re the snake shapeshifter?” Her voice was accented. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

             He stared at her, trying to place what felt wrong. Her accent was not from here, but he felt a small chill run down his spine. Something about the woman felt dangerous. And that’s when it clicked.

             “Are you a demon?”

[#FFF147 The Sound of Light ]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

White flames licked at his lips and electricity arced on his breath. Ludwig gasped, choking back the Hymn struggling to burst from his throat. He slapped one hand across his lips, but it leaked through his many long fangs on the left side of his face. Sharp smoke smoldered from his nostrils and through his fingers.

Even with his ears flipped back, the voices swelled with the anguish of the fallen star. He pulled his head between his tensed shoulders, but it did nothing to deafen the song. With a cough, he sputtered another flash of light that scorched the floor between his forehooves. Ludwig could not speak to the medic; the Hymn would melt the translator into a useless glass lump. Without his blade, he could not channel it back into the usual quiet thrum inside- it lashed out; the weeping of a thousand homeless gods.