#original world

Golrau have a memory that last until they’re nearly dead, but mostly remember people by their faces and scars.

You are not in Teldwa.

They are bigger than you.

They are smarter than you.

They are faster and stronger than you by a thousand.

They are territorial.

Title: Rise, the Sun

Cosmica mini oneshot for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt!

word count: 487

characters: Sitar Amerati, Zehua Odessi

notes: I have wanted to write this scene for ages, but I never knew exactly how I wanted to do it.

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Blood pooled beneath him, staining his tunic a dirty crimson. He struggled to move, to rise, despite every fiber of his body screaming at him to move. He could not die here, not like this! He reached a bloodied hand toward his snapped spear, desperate to make a final stand against his attacker.

A foot kicked the spear farther from his reach, and he followed it up to stare into the hate-filled eyes of Zehua Odessi. She seemed to tower above him, her silvery channeled sliver of a weapon wavered above his head like an executioner’s axe.

“For years I have waited for you,” Odessi hissed. “Biding Hatah’s timing, until you revealed your ugly purpose. I, Zehua Odessi, will destroy you—evil thing—and secure the prosperity of the world.” She raised her blade to kill him.

Sitar closed his eyes. Sitar Amerati. A name referring to the holy trio, a surname meaning beloved. He could hear his mother’s voice calling to him, then his family’s, then friends and comrades in arms—a chorus of voices spoke his name to him, overlapping and melding with one another until it was one pure note of song. The love of multitudes.

Against his eyelids, the light grew. The warm spotlight of the sun was eclipsed by a purer, clearer gold.

He was Sitar Amerati, and he could not allow Odessi’s injustice to prevail.

He felt something settle into his hands, something familiar, a shape he’d always known. Strength flooded across him as he gripped the shaft of a spear, and smoothly carved surface seemed to perfectly mold to his hand. That strength pushed him upright, as if he were being supported by all those he’d lost. He felt them behind him, around him, thousands of them, urging him to stand and face this injustice.

Rise, Sitar. Speak the truth.

He opened his eyes. The world blazed into color around him, vibrant and golden and shining in a million hues he’d missed before. A heat rose from his skin, a passionate warmth of power, a sensation he’d only briefly touched once before in desperation.

He was desperate no longer.

It was now Sitar who seemed to tower over Odessi, Odessi who’d seemingly forgotten her malice and goal of killing him. She stared in holy horror at the man before her, eyes widened and reflecting his light.

He stood tall, glowing with a golden light. Indeed, he did not stand at all—he floated, sandaled feet barely brushing the ground. A halo burst behind his head, holy and awesome in power. The spear in his hand was a glorious, curving thing, double pronged and gleaming in the iridescent light. The gashes in his flesh had sealed themselves with gold, and they too glowed with the same light as the halo.

Was going through some old concept stuff from my books, the first one which I'm currently working on re-writing & posting as I go.

Lots of stuff!!!

Title: Uncertain standing

Cosmica mini oneshot for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt!

word count: 443

characters: Inyat, Zehua Odessi, Sitar (mentioned)

notes: omg im back! i was so busy the last few weeks I missed out on fff but I return! Idea piece about Zehua discovering that Inyat has a thing for Sitar.

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“Miss Sahgal please sit,” Zehua Odessi said coldly. Inyat respectfully dipped her head as she entered Odessi’s chamber and stiffly perched on the edge of the bench. Surely the priestess hadn’t noticed her preoccupation with a certain gladiator. Odessi was a very busy woman, she couldn’t be everywhere at once. ​ “Might I know why you’ve called me, al-d​elima?” she asked. She made sure to keep her voice level, her posture straight. Give the priestess nothing to use against her. Inyat figured herself the very model of a Temple guard, she’d done nothing wrong.

“Indeed. It has come to my attention that you may have become distracted.”

Inyat did not like the priestess’s tone.

“The Temple holds rather high standards, miss Sahgal,” the priestess continued. “Our guards must remain loyal to hierarchy of the Temple and can not afford to chase fantastical romances.”

It was impossible to miss the utter disdain in Odessi’s voice. Inyat held her ground however.

“I’ve done exactly what the Temple has asked of me, al-delima. Any apparent ‘distractions’ that have been reported are merely speculation and fantasy.”

Odessi’s eye twitched. Inyat’s confidence wavered. Had she been too bold? Had she really been as careless as to let another guard or priestess see her relationship with Sitar? No, it couldn’t be. She’d been so careful!

“Do you think me blind, Inyat?” Odessi asked, rising to her feet. The first threads of light from a channeling wove around her hand, and into it settled a long, sharp sliver of light. She pointed the sliver toward Inyat’s throat as one gestures with a rapier. Inyat leaned back slightly, teetering on the bench.

“No, al-delima,” Inyat answered, swallowing.

“Do you think it would be an overreaction of mine if I dealt with you as a result?” Odessi hissed the question, her insinuation clear. “I am not so much upset at the development of your feelings for the slave as I am that you would lie to me. I thought you were above that weakness?”

“My apologies, al-delima.”

She held the sliver a moment longer, as if appreciating Inyat’s fear, then let the weapon puff away to mist. “Hatah grants us all one misstep. Lie to me again, and I will not be as forgiving. As a punishment I will relocate your contract to the upper Temple. You will not be permitted to go beneath for at least a fortnight.”

“But-!” Inyat gasped, almost instantly regretting her complaint.

Odessi fixed her with a blackened glare. “Tread carefully, miss Sahgal, I could make it a whole moon.”

Inyat dropped her head, resigned to her punishment. “I understand, al-delima.”