#writober 2019

thanks to @grumpy-jedi for the prompt! another shorter one today because I keep distracted by ideas that are too spoilery to put out yet!

(Also on AO3)

It is always dark in the hallways of the temple- an unavoidable side effect of the location- and Nona is reminded of this fact every time she makes the walk to the altar. The lack of light doesn’t bother her. True, it took some getting used to at first. Other temples seem so bright by comparison- not just the ones that honor Eothas, with his candles and shining sun, but the others as well. Magran and her eternal fires, the shining steel of Abydon, even Ondra’s altars are often decorated in murals of a luminescent moon. But here, there is only the soft glow of the lanterns on the walls, stretched out far enough so that there is always a step of darkness between their reaches.

But now Nona knows the many winding paths by heart, and the shadows do not slow her footsteps.

When she reaches the altar, Nona lights a few candles. Even with the additional flames, the light still feels subdued here, but Nona doesn’t mind. When she is done, she bows her head and repeats the familiar words to her prayers.

Well, the thing I originally wrote today was too spoilery to post, but I still wanted to post something for today's prompt. And I realized that today's prompt of "Trick" kinda fits this outtake from the Fairy Tale AU I wrote a while back...

So here it is! Long story short, the original story switched back and forth between Desta and Aloth, but I really wasn't feeling the Desta parts and ended up scrapping them. The only one I was really attached to was the opening section, and I'm glad I get to post it even just as an outtake.

(Also on AO3)

The peasant girl was born with a curse.

It was supposed to be a blessing, but fae are tricky like that. When the fae visited the humble farmhouse, the couple did everything right- they gave him the best share of their food, the finest of their simple clothes, the softest blankets for his bed. And when he left in the morning, when his lips curled into a smile and he asked how he could repay their hospitality, the mother was so relieved that she said the first thing that came into her head.

“All I want is a beautiful baby girl.”

The fae raised an eyebrow. “Beautiful?”

“As beautiful as a rose.”

Thanks to @grumpy-jedi for this prompt...and also for the awesome RPG session yesterday that made me stay up and write this XD since the session was yesterday this counts as yesterday’s prompt, right?

(Also on AO3)

There is nothing strange about that night. Nona’s family has dinner together. Her parents talk in quiet voices afterwards in the parlor as Nona plays on the floor with her stuffed animals. She is given a bath, and dressed in her nightgown, and put to bed. Her mother and father tell her goodnight as usual.

But looking back, Nona thinks she might remember something else. A short moment, forgettable, in the middle of the night. Not much. Just the touch of a kiss against her cheek. A whispered I love you. A fleeting glimpse of a familiar face, before tired eyes heavily close again and sleep reclaims her.

Maybe it’s a true memory, obscured by sleep and youthful obviousness. Or maybe it’s just a dream, a wishful thought given weight by hope and hindsight. Maybe there truly is nothing different about that night.

But there is something different about the following morning, because that is the morning Nona wakes up and finds that her mother is gone.

34: An abandoned house on the edge of town. (from the Character Building Locations list)

thank you for the prompt! and what good location, too!

(Also on AO3)

The old house at the edge of town is dirty and damp, but it’sisolated and the walls provide some shelter against the cold wind, so that’swhere Nona and her fellow traveler end up settling for the night.

Nona keeps a cautious eye on her companion as she lays outher on bedroll in the least-dustiest space she can find. His presence is stilla bit of a surprise. She’d known someone would be meeting her on the road toescort her to Defiance Bay; she’d just been expecting that someone to be anotherpriest.

The mercenary on the other side of the room, smoking a pipeand nonchalantly rifling through empty cabinets, is certainly not a priest.

Nona wrinkles her nose at the smell of the smoke off thepipe. “Do you have to do that in here?”

“Ah, come on. It covers up the smell of mold,” he answerswith a grin. He’s been doing that a lot- smiling and joking and acting like heknows Nona despite the fact they only met a day ago. Nona can’t tell for surehow genuine he’s being. His attitude makes her suspicious, although she knowsshe’s likely just being paranoid.

When the mercenary receives no answer to his quip, heshrugs. “I’m joking. Mostly. I haven’t seen any mold, not yet at least. Justspiders. But that means this place has been abandoned for a while, which meansit’s safe, which means you can relax a little.”

Nona rolls her eyes but lets the subject drop. She moves tothe window, where she can watches grey clouds roll across the sky. “I supposethis place is better than sleeping out in the cold. Even with spiders.”

“Exactly! Let’s just hope this place doesn’t get washed out ifit rains tonight. Floods can hit fast in these parts.”

“And here I always thought ‘backwater town’ was just anexpression.”

The mercenary laughs in surprise at her comment. “Heh. You’resecretly funny.” He regards her for a moment, then nods. “Yep, I like you. We’regonna be friends.”

Nona raises an eyebrow at that. She doesn’t quite know howto react to this immediate friendliness…but she has to admit, despite herwariness, that it’s the most pleasant conversation she’s had in a while. “We’llsee,” she allows, and although it’s not exactly a confirmation, the man grins.

thanks to @grumpy-jedi for the prompt! And dang it, Nona, I had to rewrite this like 3 times, why do you think so much?

(Also on AO3)

When Nona leaves, she doesn’t take much with her.

Not that she has much to take. Nona has had little in the way of luxuries for some time now. But there are still some things- a few trinkets that she’s managed to hold on to- that she now has to leave behind.

It doesn’t bother her much. She knows she has to travel light, and after everything that’s happened, the loss of a few old possessions is far from the most important thing on her mind. So it’s without much fuss that she packs her clothes, wraps up some food, and leaves the rest of her items to gather dust.

Except for the book.

The book catches Nona’s eye just as she is about to walk out the door for the last time. The cover is a dark red, embossed with dark lettering, and as familiar as the back of her hand. It should be; Nona has spent many hours reading and learning from its pages, and just as many using those pages to teach others. She can still see the notes and letters sticking out from its pages, old papers saved from days long past that she could never manage to throw away. There is nothing of particular importance in any of the writings; the value comes more from the familiar handwriting and reminders of what once was.

Nona had intended to leave it here along with everything else, but now…she can’t. She hesitates in the doorway, and finally, reluctantly, moves to pick it up. She considers it for a moment, turning it over in her hands. Too many emotions to name rush through her- fondness, anger, bitterness, something almost like regret. Too many memories summoned by this small package of paper and words and leather binding.

A candle still sits in the corner of the room, ready and waiting. Nona lights the wick and, one by one, takes the letters and notes folded between the pages of her book and lets the flame devour them. The old familiar words burn and blacken and eventually crumble away into nothingness, until only the book itself is left.

Nona deliberates for a long while, staring at the candle with the book in her hand. She couldn’t destroy it completely, not with this small candle, but she could burn it beyond use. There might be something poetic in that.

But she can’t. It’s not the book’s fault that such complicated memories have been woven into its pages. The words and writings themselves have always served her well, no matter what her feelings now are on the one who gave them to her. And perhaps Nona doesn’t need to erase every trace of her past here. Even painful memories can be lessons, after all.

This is what Nona tells herself as she slips the book into her bag. Perhaps one day she will be able to leave it behind. Just not today.

Nona takes one last glance around the room, blows out the candle, and walks out the door without another look back.

With a stretch and a yawn, Naro sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He dressed quickly, gargled a bit of the foul tasting mouthwash, grabbed a biscuit from the kitchen, and left. His mother didn’t like it that he was out running errands, but with Kazerik and his thugs in charge of the city now, ever copper of income helped, and he was going to do his part.

Coming out to the soft embrace of the shore,

A storm silently brewed across the dark water.

So many aspects of where I breached the sand were out of my command.

Two steps in, I cut my foot on a conch shell,

I watched my blood circle its curves,

Somehow lethargic, slow to drip into the hollow opening,

Surface so tense it was scared to fall into the unknown.

Was I this, my lifeblood’s presentation?

In this stillness, I could hear the whisper of a distant gale,

A strong hush of a feminine sigh, as if this storm was sad to see me so far from its grasp.

A hypothesis: silence is chaotic;

But my reality rejected the null.

I can master a ship, navigate this eye of the hurricane,

I control who I gravitate towards;

This effeminate wind has no hold on my sails.