Genesis 092
May. 14th, 2006 01:06 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Black
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ Genesis 092. Another introductory ficcu, this be Nimay, current General of the King's Own. Also, she doesn't talk. Can't really tell in this one since there's not a lot of dialogue anyway, so I figured I'd let you know here X3 Why? We don't know. Well, I know, but nobody else does. At this stage, 'may doesn't know either.
~ ~ ~
Nimay stood back to admire her new uniform in the mirror, smoothing her hands over the stiff black fabric. It would take a bit of wearing in, especially the leather of her boots and top. They were made from the hide of a nira, an animal with skin so strong that even steel-pointed arrows couldn’t pierce it.
She wasn’t used to seeing herself dressed from head to toe in black. Only the silver lining around the collar stood out from her dark skin and darker uniform. It was the black that now marked her as General, the silver as General of the fifteen most skilled warriors in the kingdom: the King’s Own.
The new General couldn’t help grinning as she grabbed her sword from the bed and clipped its scabbard to her waist. The worn brown leather of her sword sheath suddenly looked drab against the rich, shining black of her new uniform, but she had no doubt that the rusty Raykinian sand would soon stain the pristine, starched fabric.
She walked to the window, fingering the yrae stone in the heavy silver bangle around her wrist. She wasn’t naïve. That stone had helped her into army training to begin with, when she was only seven and the other boys all at least fourteen. She had no memory of how she had gained possession of the glittering blue jewel, or indeed anything before she’d arrived at the palace when she was seven.
It didn’t really bother her anymore though. Whatever life she’d had for her first seven years, it didn’t matter now. Now, she was General of the King’s Own.
She grinned broadly, braced her hands on the window frame and launched herself out the window of her tower bedroom, high above the cobbled courtyard of the palace below. She spread her wide, black-feathered wings out to catch the warm air in them and drift easily around to the army barracks, drawing them back in when her feet touched back on the earth once more.
The cavernous room echoed with clashing blades, not just swords, but daggers as well. A few of the pikemen were practicing their skills down the far end as well.
Only two of the swordsmen of the Own were there yet. Emon and Rumal seemed to almost live in the army barracks. It was hardly a surprise that they were the best two swordies in the kingdom.
“Morning, General,” Rumal said with a broad grin, placing special emphasis on the new form of address.
“Go on then,” Emon added, “Show it off.”
Nimay grinned and stretched her arms out, spinning around in a circle so her long black pony tail swung out behind her.
The two men now under her charge nodded approvingly. “Suits you,” Rumal grinned. “Reckon you’re up to the task?”
Nimay shrugged her stiff shirt into a more comfortable position and set one hand condescendingly on her hip. She still had a few months before her first mission. By then, she’d be ready.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ Genesis 092. Another introductory ficcu, this be Nimay, current General of the King's Own. Also, she doesn't talk. Can't really tell in this one since there's not a lot of dialogue anyway, so I figured I'd let you know here X3 Why? We don't know. Well, I know, but nobody else does. At this stage, 'may doesn't know either.
Nimay stood back to admire her new uniform in the mirror, smoothing her hands over the stiff black fabric. It would take a bit of wearing in, especially the leather of her boots and top. They were made from the hide of a nira, an animal with skin so strong that even steel-pointed arrows couldn’t pierce it.
She wasn’t used to seeing herself dressed from head to toe in black. Only the silver lining around the collar stood out from her dark skin and darker uniform. It was the black that now marked her as General, the silver as General of the fifteen most skilled warriors in the kingdom: the King’s Own.
The new General couldn’t help grinning as she grabbed her sword from the bed and clipped its scabbard to her waist. The worn brown leather of her sword sheath suddenly looked drab against the rich, shining black of her new uniform, but she had no doubt that the rusty Raykinian sand would soon stain the pristine, starched fabric.
She walked to the window, fingering the yrae stone in the heavy silver bangle around her wrist. She wasn’t naïve. That stone had helped her into army training to begin with, when she was only seven and the other boys all at least fourteen. She had no memory of how she had gained possession of the glittering blue jewel, or indeed anything before she’d arrived at the palace when she was seven.
It didn’t really bother her anymore though. Whatever life she’d had for her first seven years, it didn’t matter now. Now, she was General of the King’s Own.
She grinned broadly, braced her hands on the window frame and launched herself out the window of her tower bedroom, high above the cobbled courtyard of the palace below. She spread her wide, black-feathered wings out to catch the warm air in them and drift easily around to the army barracks, drawing them back in when her feet touched back on the earth once more.
The cavernous room echoed with clashing blades, not just swords, but daggers as well. A few of the pikemen were practicing their skills down the far end as well.
Only two of the swordsmen of the Own were there yet. Emon and Rumal seemed to almost live in the army barracks. It was hardly a surprise that they were the best two swordies in the kingdom.
“Morning, General,” Rumal said with a broad grin, placing special emphasis on the new form of address.
“Go on then,” Emon added, “Show it off.”
Nimay grinned and stretched her arms out, spinning around in a circle so her long black pony tail swung out behind her.
The two men now under her charge nodded approvingly. “Suits you,” Rumal grinned. “Reckon you’re up to the task?”
Nimay shrugged her stiff shirt into a more comfortable position and set one hand condescendingly on her hip. She still had a few months before her first mission. By then, she’d be ready.
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Date: 2006-05-13 08:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-13 08:46 am (UTC)