15min fic #72
Sep. 13th, 2004 03:32 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annarti.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
yrae
Title~ Falling
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Haela is mine. The end.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 72. This word so~ called for angst, and what better charrie to give angst than Haela =D
~ ~ ~
She stood on the very edge of the cliff top, arms hanging limply by her sides. Her only movements were the tensing of her muscles to prevent the wind from buffeting her over the edge. Short black hair, dull and unkempt, whipped at her face, but she did nothing to remove the strands.
Her dark eyes were blank, devoid of thought or emotion as they stared at the city that lay before her. Anyone else who stood on the cliff that overlooked Ni-Yana would have felt a certain power in being so high above the ancient city, but it made Haela feel small and insignificant. She could never return to the place she once called home. The scratched and dusty stone that hung on a brass chain around her left ankle saw to that.
She didn’t know why she stood on the cliff top for so long every day. She closed her eyes and made weak fists with her hands. It hurt almost as much as the wings the stone gave her.
She opened her eyes again, staring up at the grey sky of dawn, but seeing the starlit velvet of night, bordered by black walls. The silent silhouette of a long-necked bird blotted out the stars; Haela closed her eyes again, but the vision remained, as it always did.
Her fists tightened further. Sand whipped around her legs in the strong wind that always prevailed on the cliff. She knew why she had chased the stone that night. Anyone would have. She was only human.
What she could not understand was why she kept it. For ten years it had hung around her ankle. More times than she could count, she had tried to rid herself of the yrae’s magic. She had held it over the Ra-Lin, pouring her hatred into it. She had laid it in a trough in the sand, one hand ready to push more over it to bury it forever in the desert. Once, she had even made the journey to the volcanic Kazinian island of Tisadez with every intention of melting it in the inferno.
But every time, she had been unable to let go of it.
Her eyes flicked open again, but they did not focus on the city this time. Instead, she looked down, her gaze seeing but not registering the red earth far below her, grey and washed out from the weak light of dawn.
The muscles in her toes relaxed their firm grip on the edge of the cliff, and she waited for the wind to take hold of her.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Haela is mine. The end.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 72. This word so~ called for angst, and what better charrie to give angst than Haela =D
She stood on the very edge of the cliff top, arms hanging limply by her sides. Her only movements were the tensing of her muscles to prevent the wind from buffeting her over the edge. Short black hair, dull and unkempt, whipped at her face, but she did nothing to remove the strands.
Her dark eyes were blank, devoid of thought or emotion as they stared at the city that lay before her. Anyone else who stood on the cliff that overlooked Ni-Yana would have felt a certain power in being so high above the ancient city, but it made Haela feel small and insignificant. She could never return to the place she once called home. The scratched and dusty stone that hung on a brass chain around her left ankle saw to that.
She didn’t know why she stood on the cliff top for so long every day. She closed her eyes and made weak fists with her hands. It hurt almost as much as the wings the stone gave her.
She opened her eyes again, staring up at the grey sky of dawn, but seeing the starlit velvet of night, bordered by black walls. The silent silhouette of a long-necked bird blotted out the stars; Haela closed her eyes again, but the vision remained, as it always did.
Her fists tightened further. Sand whipped around her legs in the strong wind that always prevailed on the cliff. She knew why she had chased the stone that night. Anyone would have. She was only human.
What she could not understand was why she kept it. For ten years it had hung around her ankle. More times than she could count, she had tried to rid herself of the yrae’s magic. She had held it over the Ra-Lin, pouring her hatred into it. She had laid it in a trough in the sand, one hand ready to push more over it to bury it forever in the desert. Once, she had even made the journey to the volcanic Kazinian island of Tisadez with every intention of melting it in the inferno.
But every time, she had been unable to let go of it.
Her eyes flicked open again, but they did not focus on the city this time. Instead, she looked down, her gaze seeing but not registering the red earth far below her, grey and washed out from the weak light of dawn.
The muscles in her toes relaxed their firm grip on the edge of the cliff, and she waited for the wind to take hold of her.