Silent Harmony ~ Rust ~ One
Aug. 28th, 2007 06:31 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Yamin grunted as she shifted the canvas shopping bag into a more comfortable position. She’d been carrying it all the way from the markets, but no matter how many irritated sighs or pleading looks she made, Mama never noticed. She gave a quiet ‘hmph’ and threw the bag over her other shoulder, stooping forwards like an old man to further emphasise her discomfort.
‘Almost home, girls,’ Mama said, her voice achingly cheerful.
Yamin groaned and heard the same from her sister. She glanced up from the road to see Nimay poke her tongue out at their mother.
‘Hey,’ Mama warned, and probably would have lifted a finger if her own hands weren’t full with more shopping. ‘Careful, or I’ll give you extra eggplant tonight.’
Yamin giggled at her sister’s horrified gasp, then hid her mouth from her mother with her free hand and poked her own tongue out.
Nimay’s eyes narrowed. Yamin could tell she was about to try the same, but a quick glance upwards showed she was wary of the threat of eggplant.
Yamin raised her eyebrows and smirked in silent challenge, but Nimay turned her head forwards again. She refused to be tempted, though her eyes flicked across with a smirk of warning, drawing another giggle from the other seven-year-old.
‘Here we are,’ Mama sang. ‘Recognise this road?’
Yamin’s face brightened and her back straightened as they turned into her home street. The shopping bag didn’t seem quite so heavy now that she could see her house. She turned to grin at her sister, but Nimay had already poked her tongue out. She bared her teeth in a mischievous grin and dashed off up the road.
Yamin laughed and tore after her, sandals slapping on the red cobbles as she chased her sister’s swinging black ponytail. She was out of breath and panting heavily by the time she reached the front door, and Nimay was already standing there with a triumphant grin on her face. Yamin stuck her tongue out again. Nimay had gotten the head start, after all. Of course she’d win!
Nimay shrugged and yanked the canvas door aside, dumping the shopping bag on the floor before racing up the stairs to their bedroom.
Yamin gratefully dumped her own bag beside Nimay’s, shaking her arms out as she caught her breath. Nimay would be back down soon, so there was no reason to follow her up the stairs.
Sure enough, she soon heard the thump of their clothes chest being closed, then Nimay’s sandals came slapping back down the stairs. One hand slid against the wall to keep her from stumbling on the way down; in the other she grasped her shiny new birthday present. The wooden sword was carved in the shape of an yrae, with its neck making the sword’s handle and its long tail forming the blade. Their birthday had been barely a month ago, but Yamin could hardly imagine her sister without the wooden sword now.
Nimay dashed past with a wide grin, then disappeared through their parents’ room and out the back door.
Yamin was wearing her own present. It was a bracelet, made up of bright blue stones strung together on piece of blue ribbon. She still had to get Mama to tie it for her, but she was learning to tie it around her neck like a necklace.
‘Is Papa home yet?’
Yamin shook her head as Mama dropped her bags by the door, then began rummaging through them.
‘Could you go and set the fire up, please?’ she asked as she filled her arms with onions, tomatoes, garlic, flatbread and, Yamin noted with a sly grin, eggplant. ‘Don’t forget to put the grass on the bottom so it’s easier to light.’
Yamin nodded and ran upstairs, jumped over the pile of blankets she and Nimay slept under at night and bounced out through the canvas door onto the flat roof over Mama’s and Papa’s room that served as their kitchen.
She could see Nimay by the big yucca plant below, throwing pebbles up into the air and seeing how far she could hit them with her sword, if she could hit them at all. An orange and white cat lazed on the roof of the house opposite, half-watching Nimay’s games as the tip of its tail curled and uncurled against the red mud brick.
There was still half a log of wood left under the big cooking pot from last night, but the rest was all just ash and charcoal that Yamin had to sweep out before she could begin piling up dried grass. Next came the kindling, then the smaller logs and finally the big log that had been blackened from last night’s dinner.
‘How’s it coming?’
Yamin nodded as she dusted charcoal from her hands, trying to resist the urge to wipe them on her skirt, at least while Mama was there. She pointed at the dwindling pile of smaller logs. There would barely be enough for dinner tomorrow.
‘Hmm,’ Mama agreed. ‘We’ll have to send Papa to get some more tomorrow.’ She knelt down beside the cooking pot and unloaded her armful of vegetables onto the wooden chopping board.
Yamin snatched the eggplant and skipped to the edge of the roof with it, displaying it to Nimay with a cheeky grin.
Nimay paused, then she scrunched her nose up and her shoulders slouched dramatically. She tossed another pebble in the air, making to hit it at Yamin, but instead it flew back behind her, making the cat prick its ears up as it clattered over the roof beside it. Yamin giggled. Nimay poked her tongue out again.
‘Yamin, can I have my eggplant back, please?’
Yamin giggled again, tossing her black hair over her shoulder as she skipped back and plonked herself down beside her mother.
Mama held up a sharp knife, her eyebrows raised in question. ‘Can I trust you with this?’ she asked, her voice serious.
Yamin set her brow into an equally serious frown and pursed her lips with a curt nod.
‘Be very careful,’ Mama intoned as she set the handle in Yamin’s hand. ‘Keep your fingers away from the blade, okay?’
Yamin nodded again and held the eggplant firmly against the chopping board, cutting into it carefully with the knife. She had to be careful with it, otherwise Mama would take it away, so she wouldn’t have anything to boast to Nimay about later.
Mama started cutting up the tomatoes next to her and tossed them into the pot with the eggplant. Yamin covered her eyes and ran inside while she cut up the onions, waiting for Mama to call her when it was safe to come back out. Her mother’s dark eyes and nose were red from onion tears, but she was smiling as she sprinkled spices into the pot. One was the same fiery orange of the desert sand.
There was movement from inside the house, the sound of familiar footsteps on the stone floor downstairs. ‘Riona?’ Papa called from the front door. ‘Are you and the girls home yet?’
‘We’re up here, Mehni,’ Mama called back. ‘All except Nimay.’
Yamin covered a giggle with her hand as she heard a muffled ‘Oof’ float up the stairs, presumably as Nimay jumped on her father to welcome him home. His footsteps grew heavier as they began climbing the stairs, and when he appeared at the door, Yamin could see why. Nimay’s arms were slung around his shoulders, wooden sword hanging from one hand and legs grasped around his waist.
Papa groaned as he let her slide from his back. ‘You’re getting too big for this!’ he laughed.
Yamin’s proud grin mirrored her sister’s.
‘Riona?’ Papa asked again, his voice suddenly concerned. ‘Are you okay? What’s wrong?’
Mama frowned in confusion, then sniffed and laughed when the realisation dawned. ‘Oh, no, onions,’ she explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. She almost rubbed her eyes with it, but shook it to stop herself. She’d always told Yamin that the worst thing for onion tears was to rub her eyes.
‘Could you light the fire?’ she asked, blinking helplessly. ‘Oh, and you’ll need to buy more wood tomorrow. We’re running low again.’
‘Of course.’ Papa knelt down beside the pot and set about lighting the dried grass. ‘I can’t stay too long. The tavern is going to be manic tonight.’
‘Why’s that?’ Mama sniffed.
‘Own challenge. The pub’s always particularly busy when there’s an Own challenge, but especially for this one. I don’t suppose you’ve heard?’
Nimay had dropped down beside him at the mere mention of the King’s Own, Raykin’s fifteen best warriors.
‘Heard what?’
Papa grimaced. ‘The challenger was born and bred south of the Main Road, I heard. If the markets seemed particularly empty, that’s why. I’ve been hearing nothing but the name “Rumal” all day. How can the king allow a Southerner into his Own?’
Nimay tapped her father on the arm, looking up at him with a curious expression.
‘They’re all nasty pieces of work down there, sweetie.’ Papa shook his head. ‘Thieves and beggars, the lot of them. And now one of them reckons he can make it into the Own, with a sword, no less! How was he even allowed to start training in the first place?’ He paused only to blow on the fire and get it going properly.
Mama shrugged as she lifted Yamin into her lap. ‘Don’t worry too much about it. I highly doubt some kid from the southern districts is good enough to beat any one of them. They’re better than that.’
‘I should hope so,’ Papa said darkly, resting back on his heels and frowning critically at the flames.
Mama laughed and rested her chin briefly on Yamin’s head. ‘If a Southerner’s getting this much attention, imagine the ruckus when a desert man finally tries for a place. Or how about a desert woman? Ooh, or a desert woman living south of the Main Road, that would be terrible!’
A bright grin stretched across Papa’s face. ‘Ah, but we know desert women are all tall, dark-eyed and beautiful, don’t we?’
Yamin had to duck as he bent over to give Mama a quick kiss, and she exchanged bored glances with her sister. She cocked her eyebrows as her father pulled away and ruffled her hair.
‘And you two take after her completely,’ he finished with that wide grin.
Mama laughed. ‘So are they going to grow up to be taller than you are, too?’
Papa shrugged. ‘Quite possibly. How long for dinner?’
‘Not long,’ Mama said with a shake of her head. ‘It’s only a vegetable stew, so not long at all.’
Yamin rested her head against Mama’s shoulder, content to sit there quietly and listen to the gentle rumbling of her parents’ voices. Her feet still hurt from the long day at the market, and the longer walk back home.
‘Early night tonight, girls?’ Papa asked.
Yamin shook her head indignantly. It was her feet that were tired, not her head!
‘In that case,’ Mama said, in that voice that betrayed a lopsided grin on her face, ‘could you get four bowls and spoons for dinner? And Nimay, if you can get the flatbread, then we can eat.’
Yamin jumped to her feet, as much to prove that she wasn’t tired as to get the bowls quickly and start eating. Maybe there was a bit of wanting to beat Nimay to her task, she thought with a grin.
She held the bowls steady as Mama spooned the vegetable stew into it, then passed them around to Papa and Nimay, who had returned with the flatbread. She breathed in deeply once she had her own bowl, loving the warm, spicy scent of the stew. Even just the smell made Yamin’s mouth water.
She glanced up to the roof above hers and Nimay’s room, then turned a hopeful look on her mother.
Mama looked up to the roof herself, then nodded. ‘I don’t see why not,’ she agreed, getting to her feet.
Papa climbed the ladder first, balancing his bowl in one hand then setting it on the edge of the roof so he could climb the rest of the way more easily. Yamin handed her bowl to Mama, then scrambled up the ladder as the tall desert woman passed it up to Papa.
Now that she was up here, she could see almost all of Ni-Yana. Other people were sitting on their rooves having dinner as well, and they waved back to Yamin when she waved at them. She dangled her legs over the edge of the roof as she sat down, watching the people on the road below as they walked home from work, or off to the pub for drinks.
The Ra-Lin lay off to the west, and the brightly-coloured flags and banners of the market stood out on its banks, turning golden as the sun dipped towards the horizon. All the boats had come in for the day, their masts sticking up from the docks beside the bridge. Yamin marvelled at how far they had walked with all that heavy shopping.
She turned her head over her shoulder, where she could see the green strip of palms that lined the Main Road, leading from the Ra-Lin all the way to the huge stone walls of the palace. Two tall towers reached above the palace’s outer wall. Papa said they had once been used to spot enemies coming to attack Ni-Yana, but since nobody had attacked in more than a hundred years, they weren’t used anymore.
As she always did, Yamin squinted at the roof of the palace, trying desperately to see if anyone was up there having dinner, but the roof was always empty. Yamin’s shoulders drooped slightly. Why, when they had the best view in all of Ni-Yana, would the king and prince choose to eat inside?
‘Anybody up there tonight, Yamin?’ Mama asked, in that tone that showed she didn’t expect there to be.
Yamin shook her head. Royalty was silly, she decided, then shrugged and dug her spoon into her stew. She rolled her eyes when she spotted the extra eggplant that had mysteriously made its way into her bowl, then narrowed her eyes at her sister who had sat down beside her.
Nimay had a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face, so much that Yamin had to giggle. She didn’t mind, anyway. She liked eggplant.
Nimay turned around to look at the palace, though she clearly had different thoughts on her mind. She was thinking about the Own challenge, Yamin could tell, but she didn’t say anything just yet.
Yamin kicked her heels idly against the side of the house as she dunked her bread in the stew to soak up the juice, doing her best not to drip any on her clothes. It was so delicious, rich and full of flavour. Hearty, Papa would call it. And it was nice and hot, welcome warmth now that the sun was setting and sucking the warmth away. Nobody in the city ate this well, Yamin was sure. Not even the royals.
Nimay glanced up at her, a discreetly curious look in her eye. If she asked Papa, she wanted to know if Yamin would support her.
Yamin nodded and grinned. Swords may well be her sister’s forte more than her own, but Own challenges were exciting. She’d been to one earlier in the year, when someone had challenged the archers, but he didn’t win.
Nimay bounced and kicked her legs up, wolfing down the rest of her dinner as quickly as possible. Yamin giggled at her twin’s enthusiasm, then sat up demurely to nibble at her sauce-soaked bread.
Once she had finished, Nimay set the bowl behind her and jumped at her father’s shoulders, a broad and hopeful grin on her face.
‘What’s this about?’ Papa laughed, gripping his bowl so he wouldn’t drop it on the road below.
Yamin giggled again as Nimay batted her eyelids sweetly, then held out one fist and swung it as though she was gripping her wooden sword.
‘She wants to go to see the Own challenge tomorrow,’ Mama translated.
‘Hmm…’ Papa’s brow creased and he chewed thoughtfully at his bottom lip. Nimay still hung from his shoulders. ‘I’m not sure about this one. Maybe for the next challenger.’
‘Oh, go on.’ Mama slapped him lightly. ‘I’ll take them with me to work tomorrow, so I’ll be with them, and it’s in the palace grounds, so it’s hardly open to the public. They’d probably be safer in there than anywhere else.’
Papa sighed. Nimay squeaked in quiet desperation.
‘Okay, but be very careful, understand?’
Nimay had clearly tuned out after Papa’s first word. She was dancing around on the rooftop, skipping and holding her hands out as though she was riding one of the Own’s beautiful horses, then she scrambled back down the ladder. Yamin could hear her footsteps thundering down the stairs as though she’d fallen, then she was back out behind the house with her wooden yrae sword, bouncing around and swinging it at nothing.
Yamin laughed out loud at Papa’s bemused expression as much as at her ecstatic sister.
‘Nimay!’ Mama called. ‘Yamin and I are going to want help with the washing up.’
Nimay paused in her sword swinging, then allowed her shoulders to slouch as she pouted up at the roof.
‘Hey, no complaints,’ Mama warned. ‘Papa just let you go to the palace tomorrow, remember?’
Nimay didn’t move for a few moments, then nodded vigorously and disappeared back inside the house.
‘And that’s my cue to leave.’ Papa set his bowl behind him and groaned as he dragged himself to his feet.
Yamin climbed up herself to give him a hug before he left. She’d be in bed asleep by the time he got back home. She and Nimay had tried staying awake until he got back once, but they’d fallen asleep with no sign of him, and only succeeded in making themselves tired the next day.
Papa knelt down to give Yamin his special kiss—left cheek, right cheek, mouth, nose, forehead. ‘Look after your sister tomorrow.’
Yamin nodded and smiled, then gave him another hug before he stood up. He gave Mama a kiss, but not the special one he had for the twins, then climbed down the ladder. Yamin watched from the roof as he walked back down the road towards his pub, then bounced off to help Mama and Nimay with the washing up.
~ ~ ~
Stuff~
o Obviously, introduction to modern Ni-Yana, the twins and their parentals, with a bit of districtism thrown in X3 HI RUMAL!
o Yes, Mehni is a pub owner now. It's more convenient and Raykinian >>
o Does it work calling him and Riona 'Papa and Mama' or would you prefer they be called by name?
o I'm going to have to change Rumal's charrie profile sheet. Actually says he joined the year before, but it was FAR too convenient to have him join when the twins were 7 >>
o The twins were freaking adorable when they were kiddies.
o Dad used to give me that kiss X3
o Eggplant is yummy.
‘Almost home, girls,’ Mama said, her voice achingly cheerful.
Yamin groaned and heard the same from her sister. She glanced up from the road to see Nimay poke her tongue out at their mother.
‘Hey,’ Mama warned, and probably would have lifted a finger if her own hands weren’t full with more shopping. ‘Careful, or I’ll give you extra eggplant tonight.’
Yamin giggled at her sister’s horrified gasp, then hid her mouth from her mother with her free hand and poked her own tongue out.
Nimay’s eyes narrowed. Yamin could tell she was about to try the same, but a quick glance upwards showed she was wary of the threat of eggplant.
Yamin raised her eyebrows and smirked in silent challenge, but Nimay turned her head forwards again. She refused to be tempted, though her eyes flicked across with a smirk of warning, drawing another giggle from the other seven-year-old.
‘Here we are,’ Mama sang. ‘Recognise this road?’
Yamin’s face brightened and her back straightened as they turned into her home street. The shopping bag didn’t seem quite so heavy now that she could see her house. She turned to grin at her sister, but Nimay had already poked her tongue out. She bared her teeth in a mischievous grin and dashed off up the road.
Yamin laughed and tore after her, sandals slapping on the red cobbles as she chased her sister’s swinging black ponytail. She was out of breath and panting heavily by the time she reached the front door, and Nimay was already standing there with a triumphant grin on her face. Yamin stuck her tongue out again. Nimay had gotten the head start, after all. Of course she’d win!
Nimay shrugged and yanked the canvas door aside, dumping the shopping bag on the floor before racing up the stairs to their bedroom.
Yamin gratefully dumped her own bag beside Nimay’s, shaking her arms out as she caught her breath. Nimay would be back down soon, so there was no reason to follow her up the stairs.
Sure enough, she soon heard the thump of their clothes chest being closed, then Nimay’s sandals came slapping back down the stairs. One hand slid against the wall to keep her from stumbling on the way down; in the other she grasped her shiny new birthday present. The wooden sword was carved in the shape of an yrae, with its neck making the sword’s handle and its long tail forming the blade. Their birthday had been barely a month ago, but Yamin could hardly imagine her sister without the wooden sword now.
Nimay dashed past with a wide grin, then disappeared through their parents’ room and out the back door.
Yamin was wearing her own present. It was a bracelet, made up of bright blue stones strung together on piece of blue ribbon. She still had to get Mama to tie it for her, but she was learning to tie it around her neck like a necklace.
‘Is Papa home yet?’
Yamin shook her head as Mama dropped her bags by the door, then began rummaging through them.
‘Could you go and set the fire up, please?’ she asked as she filled her arms with onions, tomatoes, garlic, flatbread and, Yamin noted with a sly grin, eggplant. ‘Don’t forget to put the grass on the bottom so it’s easier to light.’
Yamin nodded and ran upstairs, jumped over the pile of blankets she and Nimay slept under at night and bounced out through the canvas door onto the flat roof over Mama’s and Papa’s room that served as their kitchen.
She could see Nimay by the big yucca plant below, throwing pebbles up into the air and seeing how far she could hit them with her sword, if she could hit them at all. An orange and white cat lazed on the roof of the house opposite, half-watching Nimay’s games as the tip of its tail curled and uncurled against the red mud brick.
There was still half a log of wood left under the big cooking pot from last night, but the rest was all just ash and charcoal that Yamin had to sweep out before she could begin piling up dried grass. Next came the kindling, then the smaller logs and finally the big log that had been blackened from last night’s dinner.
‘How’s it coming?’
Yamin nodded as she dusted charcoal from her hands, trying to resist the urge to wipe them on her skirt, at least while Mama was there. She pointed at the dwindling pile of smaller logs. There would barely be enough for dinner tomorrow.
‘Hmm,’ Mama agreed. ‘We’ll have to send Papa to get some more tomorrow.’ She knelt down beside the cooking pot and unloaded her armful of vegetables onto the wooden chopping board.
Yamin snatched the eggplant and skipped to the edge of the roof with it, displaying it to Nimay with a cheeky grin.
Nimay paused, then she scrunched her nose up and her shoulders slouched dramatically. She tossed another pebble in the air, making to hit it at Yamin, but instead it flew back behind her, making the cat prick its ears up as it clattered over the roof beside it. Yamin giggled. Nimay poked her tongue out again.
‘Yamin, can I have my eggplant back, please?’
Yamin giggled again, tossing her black hair over her shoulder as she skipped back and plonked herself down beside her mother.
Mama held up a sharp knife, her eyebrows raised in question. ‘Can I trust you with this?’ she asked, her voice serious.
Yamin set her brow into an equally serious frown and pursed her lips with a curt nod.
‘Be very careful,’ Mama intoned as she set the handle in Yamin’s hand. ‘Keep your fingers away from the blade, okay?’
Yamin nodded again and held the eggplant firmly against the chopping board, cutting into it carefully with the knife. She had to be careful with it, otherwise Mama would take it away, so she wouldn’t have anything to boast to Nimay about later.
Mama started cutting up the tomatoes next to her and tossed them into the pot with the eggplant. Yamin covered her eyes and ran inside while she cut up the onions, waiting for Mama to call her when it was safe to come back out. Her mother’s dark eyes and nose were red from onion tears, but she was smiling as she sprinkled spices into the pot. One was the same fiery orange of the desert sand.
There was movement from inside the house, the sound of familiar footsteps on the stone floor downstairs. ‘Riona?’ Papa called from the front door. ‘Are you and the girls home yet?’
‘We’re up here, Mehni,’ Mama called back. ‘All except Nimay.’
Yamin covered a giggle with her hand as she heard a muffled ‘Oof’ float up the stairs, presumably as Nimay jumped on her father to welcome him home. His footsteps grew heavier as they began climbing the stairs, and when he appeared at the door, Yamin could see why. Nimay’s arms were slung around his shoulders, wooden sword hanging from one hand and legs grasped around his waist.
Papa groaned as he let her slide from his back. ‘You’re getting too big for this!’ he laughed.
Yamin’s proud grin mirrored her sister’s.
‘Riona?’ Papa asked again, his voice suddenly concerned. ‘Are you okay? What’s wrong?’
Mama frowned in confusion, then sniffed and laughed when the realisation dawned. ‘Oh, no, onions,’ she explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. She almost rubbed her eyes with it, but shook it to stop herself. She’d always told Yamin that the worst thing for onion tears was to rub her eyes.
‘Could you light the fire?’ she asked, blinking helplessly. ‘Oh, and you’ll need to buy more wood tomorrow. We’re running low again.’
‘Of course.’ Papa knelt down beside the pot and set about lighting the dried grass. ‘I can’t stay too long. The tavern is going to be manic tonight.’
‘Why’s that?’ Mama sniffed.
‘Own challenge. The pub’s always particularly busy when there’s an Own challenge, but especially for this one. I don’t suppose you’ve heard?’
Nimay had dropped down beside him at the mere mention of the King’s Own, Raykin’s fifteen best warriors.
‘Heard what?’
Papa grimaced. ‘The challenger was born and bred south of the Main Road, I heard. If the markets seemed particularly empty, that’s why. I’ve been hearing nothing but the name “Rumal” all day. How can the king allow a Southerner into his Own?’
Nimay tapped her father on the arm, looking up at him with a curious expression.
‘They’re all nasty pieces of work down there, sweetie.’ Papa shook his head. ‘Thieves and beggars, the lot of them. And now one of them reckons he can make it into the Own, with a sword, no less! How was he even allowed to start training in the first place?’ He paused only to blow on the fire and get it going properly.
Mama shrugged as she lifted Yamin into her lap. ‘Don’t worry too much about it. I highly doubt some kid from the southern districts is good enough to beat any one of them. They’re better than that.’
‘I should hope so,’ Papa said darkly, resting back on his heels and frowning critically at the flames.
Mama laughed and rested her chin briefly on Yamin’s head. ‘If a Southerner’s getting this much attention, imagine the ruckus when a desert man finally tries for a place. Or how about a desert woman? Ooh, or a desert woman living south of the Main Road, that would be terrible!’
A bright grin stretched across Papa’s face. ‘Ah, but we know desert women are all tall, dark-eyed and beautiful, don’t we?’
Yamin had to duck as he bent over to give Mama a quick kiss, and she exchanged bored glances with her sister. She cocked her eyebrows as her father pulled away and ruffled her hair.
‘And you two take after her completely,’ he finished with that wide grin.
Mama laughed. ‘So are they going to grow up to be taller than you are, too?’
Papa shrugged. ‘Quite possibly. How long for dinner?’
‘Not long,’ Mama said with a shake of her head. ‘It’s only a vegetable stew, so not long at all.’
Yamin rested her head against Mama’s shoulder, content to sit there quietly and listen to the gentle rumbling of her parents’ voices. Her feet still hurt from the long day at the market, and the longer walk back home.
‘Early night tonight, girls?’ Papa asked.
Yamin shook her head indignantly. It was her feet that were tired, not her head!
‘In that case,’ Mama said, in that voice that betrayed a lopsided grin on her face, ‘could you get four bowls and spoons for dinner? And Nimay, if you can get the flatbread, then we can eat.’
Yamin jumped to her feet, as much to prove that she wasn’t tired as to get the bowls quickly and start eating. Maybe there was a bit of wanting to beat Nimay to her task, she thought with a grin.
She held the bowls steady as Mama spooned the vegetable stew into it, then passed them around to Papa and Nimay, who had returned with the flatbread. She breathed in deeply once she had her own bowl, loving the warm, spicy scent of the stew. Even just the smell made Yamin’s mouth water.
She glanced up to the roof above hers and Nimay’s room, then turned a hopeful look on her mother.
Mama looked up to the roof herself, then nodded. ‘I don’t see why not,’ she agreed, getting to her feet.
Papa climbed the ladder first, balancing his bowl in one hand then setting it on the edge of the roof so he could climb the rest of the way more easily. Yamin handed her bowl to Mama, then scrambled up the ladder as the tall desert woman passed it up to Papa.
Now that she was up here, she could see almost all of Ni-Yana. Other people were sitting on their rooves having dinner as well, and they waved back to Yamin when she waved at them. She dangled her legs over the edge of the roof as she sat down, watching the people on the road below as they walked home from work, or off to the pub for drinks.
The Ra-Lin lay off to the west, and the brightly-coloured flags and banners of the market stood out on its banks, turning golden as the sun dipped towards the horizon. All the boats had come in for the day, their masts sticking up from the docks beside the bridge. Yamin marvelled at how far they had walked with all that heavy shopping.
She turned her head over her shoulder, where she could see the green strip of palms that lined the Main Road, leading from the Ra-Lin all the way to the huge stone walls of the palace. Two tall towers reached above the palace’s outer wall. Papa said they had once been used to spot enemies coming to attack Ni-Yana, but since nobody had attacked in more than a hundred years, they weren’t used anymore.
As she always did, Yamin squinted at the roof of the palace, trying desperately to see if anyone was up there having dinner, but the roof was always empty. Yamin’s shoulders drooped slightly. Why, when they had the best view in all of Ni-Yana, would the king and prince choose to eat inside?
‘Anybody up there tonight, Yamin?’ Mama asked, in that tone that showed she didn’t expect there to be.
Yamin shook her head. Royalty was silly, she decided, then shrugged and dug her spoon into her stew. She rolled her eyes when she spotted the extra eggplant that had mysteriously made its way into her bowl, then narrowed her eyes at her sister who had sat down beside her.
Nimay had a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face, so much that Yamin had to giggle. She didn’t mind, anyway. She liked eggplant.
Nimay turned around to look at the palace, though she clearly had different thoughts on her mind. She was thinking about the Own challenge, Yamin could tell, but she didn’t say anything just yet.
Yamin kicked her heels idly against the side of the house as she dunked her bread in the stew to soak up the juice, doing her best not to drip any on her clothes. It was so delicious, rich and full of flavour. Hearty, Papa would call it. And it was nice and hot, welcome warmth now that the sun was setting and sucking the warmth away. Nobody in the city ate this well, Yamin was sure. Not even the royals.
Nimay glanced up at her, a discreetly curious look in her eye. If she asked Papa, she wanted to know if Yamin would support her.
Yamin nodded and grinned. Swords may well be her sister’s forte more than her own, but Own challenges were exciting. She’d been to one earlier in the year, when someone had challenged the archers, but he didn’t win.
Nimay bounced and kicked her legs up, wolfing down the rest of her dinner as quickly as possible. Yamin giggled at her twin’s enthusiasm, then sat up demurely to nibble at her sauce-soaked bread.
Once she had finished, Nimay set the bowl behind her and jumped at her father’s shoulders, a broad and hopeful grin on her face.
‘What’s this about?’ Papa laughed, gripping his bowl so he wouldn’t drop it on the road below.
Yamin giggled again as Nimay batted her eyelids sweetly, then held out one fist and swung it as though she was gripping her wooden sword.
‘She wants to go to see the Own challenge tomorrow,’ Mama translated.
‘Hmm…’ Papa’s brow creased and he chewed thoughtfully at his bottom lip. Nimay still hung from his shoulders. ‘I’m not sure about this one. Maybe for the next challenger.’
‘Oh, go on.’ Mama slapped him lightly. ‘I’ll take them with me to work tomorrow, so I’ll be with them, and it’s in the palace grounds, so it’s hardly open to the public. They’d probably be safer in there than anywhere else.’
Papa sighed. Nimay squeaked in quiet desperation.
‘Okay, but be very careful, understand?’
Nimay had clearly tuned out after Papa’s first word. She was dancing around on the rooftop, skipping and holding her hands out as though she was riding one of the Own’s beautiful horses, then she scrambled back down the ladder. Yamin could hear her footsteps thundering down the stairs as though she’d fallen, then she was back out behind the house with her wooden yrae sword, bouncing around and swinging it at nothing.
Yamin laughed out loud at Papa’s bemused expression as much as at her ecstatic sister.
‘Nimay!’ Mama called. ‘Yamin and I are going to want help with the washing up.’
Nimay paused in her sword swinging, then allowed her shoulders to slouch as she pouted up at the roof.
‘Hey, no complaints,’ Mama warned. ‘Papa just let you go to the palace tomorrow, remember?’
Nimay didn’t move for a few moments, then nodded vigorously and disappeared back inside the house.
‘And that’s my cue to leave.’ Papa set his bowl behind him and groaned as he dragged himself to his feet.
Yamin climbed up herself to give him a hug before he left. She’d be in bed asleep by the time he got back home. She and Nimay had tried staying awake until he got back once, but they’d fallen asleep with no sign of him, and only succeeded in making themselves tired the next day.
Papa knelt down to give Yamin his special kiss—left cheek, right cheek, mouth, nose, forehead. ‘Look after your sister tomorrow.’
Yamin nodded and smiled, then gave him another hug before he stood up. He gave Mama a kiss, but not the special one he had for the twins, then climbed down the ladder. Yamin watched from the roof as he walked back down the road towards his pub, then bounced off to help Mama and Nimay with the washing up.
Stuff~
o Obviously, introduction to modern Ni-Yana, the twins and their parentals, with a bit of districtism thrown in X3 HI RUMAL!
o Yes, Mehni is a pub owner now. It's more convenient and Raykinian >>
o Does it work calling him and Riona 'Papa and Mama' or would you prefer they be called by name?
o I'm going to have to change Rumal's charrie profile sheet. Actually says he joined the year before, but it was FAR too convenient to have him join when the twins were 7 >>
o The twins were freaking adorable when they were kiddies.
o Dad used to give me that kiss X3
o Eggplant is yummy.
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Date: 2007-08-29 09:20 pm (UTC)I like 'min's relationship with her mother. How she helps with the fire and cooking and... you just know she was made to be a little homebody XD
It always takes me a minute to remember the twins used to look alike, and typically Raykinian XD;
Eggplant rules!
Anyway, I also love how well you can get the twins feelings across. Even without words they communicate so well with people who know them. Their mother should understand them that well, because she's a mother, so I'm just glad at how easily she picks up everything about them - even when not looking at them.
I randomly find it so cute that Yamin hides when the onions come out. I think that's just a wonderful little thing in this chapter. The little things like that fill me with squee.
I love racism XD Or at least North/South divides, and how they're passed on through the generations XD
‘Don’t worry too much about it. I highly doubt some kid from the southern districts is good enough to beat any one of them. They’re better than that.’
Randomly, I found Riona saying "kid" a little awkward. I would have thought that too slangy for her. But I may very well be wrong, so yeah ignore me XD;
I still love the idea of eating meals on the roof. It's just such a forgein concept to me, and such a beautiful picture that you paint by having them sit up there. It was a great way to describe some of the surroundings to the reader.
Nimay is still silly. AUBERGINE. I want it.
It amuses me that the daddy isn't as good at understanding the girls as the mummy. Again, I like it. It adds to the mother intuition thing I think XD;
I squee at special kisses *T_T*
In response the the question, I like them being called 'Mama' and 'Papa' in the chapter, because it's from Yamin's POV and that's how she'd think of them.
I do not make intelligent comments. Sorry :3;
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Date: 2007-08-30 02:18 am (UTC)They are so cute~ T_T I want to hide them in a box where Yan can't find them >>
I... never put in anything about what they all look like, did I? It's so ingrained into my mind that I totally forgot XD; There's something about 'may's black hair, but I need to get the olive skin and dark eyes in somewhere. Oooops.
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Date: 2007-09-02 08:09 am (UTC)Does it work calling him and Riona 'Papa and Mama' or would you prefer they be called by name?
I don't see why it shouldn't. You don't have to give fantasy names to everything. Unless the Raykinian words for 'mother' and 'father' have a meaning that the English doesn't have, I think you're fine with this. It's normal for kids to abbreviate things.
*smiles* Like Drazzi I quite liked the opening. They're so adorable. XD
Yamin covered her eyes and ran inside while she cut up <- To me, that grammatically says Yamin is cutting onions and running inside with her eyes closed both at once.
This really is quite lovely. I love the little hints of sibling rivalry and the teasing. I would, perhaps, advice towards describing the world a little bit more to give people a better feel of it. Not that I should talk. I fail at descriptions of any kind other than what you've done here. I love how kiddie-ish they both feel and how motherly their mother is. They're really, really well-written character dynamics. Kudos!
Oooh, nice touch with the thoughts on Southerners. ^-^
but[,] since nobody had attacked in more than a hundred years, they weren’t used anymore. <- have to use either two commas or none. But never just the one when you've got something in the middle of a sentence.
Mmmmhmmm. *points to Drazzi's comment* Take and copy if you will. Saves me a who~le lot of typing. Although I didn't notice the 'kid'. Might be that I don't know Riona from the previous version, though. I can see where Drazzi's coming from with the comment.
Can also see where you're coming from with the looks comment. That bothered me a touch as well, since the only things in there are 'May's black hair and that they're dark-skinned, like their mother. Beyond that? Haven't much to hold onto appearancewise. Careful not to overdo it, though. That's always easy to do with appearance descriptions.
Loved the way they were eating on the roof and the description of the city around them. Loved the little kiddie touch with 'Min staring at the palace roof and wondering why no one would eat up there. And the little touch about the home-cooked meals. They do always taste best, don't they? ^-^
This was just such a cute, cute chapter. It really sets Yan's prologue even more apart. It also makes a person wonder (even though I know) how Yan gets involved with these two in the first place. Very nice first chapter, me dear. Now where's the rest? ^-~
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Date: 2007-09-02 09:03 am (UTC)That'll come in the next chapter =3 One of the big problems I had with the first version was trying to do too much at once, squash all the beginning stuff (character/world introductions and characterisations and developments and setting up and arg~) into a chapter or two and throw people into the actual story. It really, really didn't work XD; So I'm spreading it out more now. Stick the girls in chapter one with their tiny little bit of the world in their own house and the views from it, then kind of grow on that.
*squees at all the 'little touches' people are noticing* *^^*
Nol should eat dinner on the roof X3
How in the name of all things shiny do I say they've all got olive skin? I mean, it'd be like any other fantasy character noticing everyone around them has pale skin. It's just not something you notice, expecially if you're only 7... Ooh, I know, throw a random Kazinian into the street and go 'look how pasty pale he/she/it is =0' That'll do it.
Thanking you muchly, hun! *glomps*
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Date: 2007-09-02 11:25 am (UTC)Sweetling, it took me eleven years to realise that there even was such a thing as skin-colour. Still, I don't think it'd be much of a problem if you drop it in somewhere just once. It doesn't have to be very pronounced, really. Just an adjective to describe a person.
I'm stuck with the same problem in Tides. That's a mixed colour society and Telyn (viewpoint character) doesn't notice -- well, consciously anyway -- and Aren (the other viewpoint character) just doesn't care. That could be it for these two. Just look if you can throw in some contrast between their skins and some other object. Like 'May's sword. If that's a paler wood than her skin, having a throw-way reference and then forget about it (except when it's important) isn't a big deal. It'd fit.
I'll keep an eye out for the descriptions to see how they work for you, if you want. ^-^ I'm sure you'll be fine with them. I just didn't get much of a feel for the streets/home interior as I'd have liked. (Me not visual, me need descriptions. ^-~)
no subject
Date: 2007-09-04 06:48 am (UTC)Ahem.
her voice achingly cheerful
-- For some reason that wording seems odd to me ... I think we because have the phrases 'achingly beautiful' and 'achingly sad', 'achingly cheerful' sort of evokes first a serious and then a not-so-serious feeling. Does painfully cheerful appeal?
... I'm eating eggplant right now XD;; Come on, May, it's so yummy! And purple! (Oh, and by the way, I have a black thumb and just had to wonder - what kind of climate does eggplant grow in?)
'Shopping bag' sounds a wee bit modern.
Love May's toy sword! That is awesome XD
Hmm, are you sure tomatoes don't need a fair bit of water to survive, seeing they're so juicy? I wouldn't know, I don't associate with tomatoes. Evil fruijtable!
Yamin nodded as she dusted charcoal from her hands, trying to resist the urge to wipe them on her skirt, at least while Mama was there.
-- That's what clothes are FOR when mum's not there. ;D I love that. So true.
Yamin covered a giggle with her hand as she heard a muffled ‘Oof’ float up the stairs, presumably as Nimay jumped on her father to welcome him home.
-- Aww. X3
Nimay had dropped down beside him at the mere mention of the King’s Own, Raykin’s fifteen best warriors.
-- I'd be tempted to stop the sentence after 'King's Own' - it's already clear from the name that they're an elite warrior group (and not a line of spaghetti sauces), and their exact number isn't important or something Min would particularly think about just yet.
Rumal~! *glomp* :D Good idea to put him in here - helps to start filtering the boys in (plus he's Rumal :D).
Ooh, or a desert woman living south of the Main Road, that would be terrible!
-- I love their mum. XD
then scrambled up the ladder as the tall desert woman passed it up to Papa
-- 'tall desert woman' seems a bit impersonal from little Min's perspective. Maybe go with 'tall Mama' or even just 'she' or something. Oh, and by the way, I think Papa/Mama works better than names with this viewpoint choice.
She rolled her eyes when she spotted the extra eggplant that had mysteriously made its way into her bowl
-- I squee'd. XD 'Mysteriously' makes that sentence. That is adorable.
This is a lovely chapter, hon! I really like how it's more emotionally involving with the twinnies (going to be so sad when Things Happen T_T), and you can already tell how close they are. Makes later events even more meaningful than they would have been.
Bring on chapter two! ;D
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Date: 2007-09-04 08:43 am (UTC)I have NO idea what climate eggplants grow in or how much water tomatoes need XD; I just threw 'ancient Egyptian recipe' into Google and this (http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Hills/9684/egyptfood.html) conveniently came up, so I picked the second-last recipe, ditched the meat because that's more for rich people in Raykin, and boom, dinner XD I know I saw another Middle Eastern recipe a while back with eggplant in it, too. There (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baba_ghanoush) we go =D YES I'm using Geoshitties and Wikipedia as my reference. SHUDDUP >>;;
King's Own Spaghetti Sauce *snerk* Kurae could probably market that quite effectively, yaknow XD
And~ general glompage for everything else, wai XD I REPLY TO COMMENTS GUD.
Mini twins are so cute~ I luff them *^^* And mini Rumal was even angrier than grown-up Rumal *pokes chapter two* >>;
no subject
Date: 2007-11-16 09:17 pm (UTC)First, specifics:
“in that voice that betrayed a lopsided grin on her face” – the wording of this sort of confuses me. It makes me think that her mom was hiding a grin, but she knew it was there because of the voice. But when I read it in context, I was thinking more like her voice was very serious, but her grin shows that she’s not being serious. Ummm…. I’m not sure I’m making sense. It’s not a part I tripped over reading, so it may not be a big deal, but I noticed that when I reread over the line.
“She was dancing around on the rooftop, skipping and holding her hands out as though she was riding one of the Own’s beautiful horses” This made me giggle. ^_^
Now, general:
I like how Nimay and Yamin’s names are the same, but backwards. Is it a common naming tradition to name siblings like this? (Course, I may find that out later, I guess. That was just the first thing I noticed in the story.) Also, Nimay and Yamin are cute. I like how even though they're twins, Yamin comes off as the "older" sibling.
rooves – This may be a difference between American and Australian English, but I’m used to seeing this spelled as “roofs.”
Also, I like the idea that it’s a common practice for families to go up on the roofs to eat. It’s seems almost like a community-gathering sort of thing, like people in a small old community sitting in rocking-chairs on their porches and socializing.
I did have a hard time visualizing the setting, though. The picture I ended up with was the two kids and their mother walking down a suburban American street to their house, but somehow I don't think that's the image I was supposed to have. Are the roofs flat? The first time I thought of them being flat was when Nimay was asking about going to the Own challenge, and I figured she would have to have super balance in order to be able to dance around the roof in joy like that. Until then, when they talked about eating on the roof, I pictured the family sort of sitting on the point of a slanted roof. Though that could be painful. Also, what kinds of materials are their homes made of? (If this was in there, I may have missed it. It's been known to happen.)
This may not mean you need to change anything, of course. Aside from your prologue, this is the first I've read of this world, so if I was supposed to read something else first to get familiar with it, that might be the problem. Anyway, I enjoyed this chapter, so on to the next!!!
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Date: 2007-11-17 09:37 am (UTC)May need to slip in a paragraph about what the street looks like from below somewhere in there *nods*
And yersh, 'roofs' is a purely American English thing, I hate to inform you XD Horses have hooves, trees have leaves, and houses have rooves =D
Thank you so much for reading! It'll be great to have someone totally new to the series reading it =3 Let me know if anything goes too fast, or indeed if I'm explaining anything a little *too* much XD;
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Date: 2007-11-17 10:41 am (UTC)Ahahahaha~ yeah XD;
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Date: 2008-01-25 01:45 pm (UTC)'Yamin nodded as she dusted charcoal from her hands, trying to resist the urge to wipe them on her skirt' I love that bit too, you can see Nimay outside being all boystrous and Yamin attempting to be a lady here. <3 It's all good, you get a glimpse of what kind of people they will eventually become.
Wooo, and now a Southerner >D The plot thickens. *grins* but not too drastically, I like how it's only mentioned in passing, and there is more time to simply enjoy thier family life before more things happen. <3 I'm loving it so far. I love the idea of them eating on thier roofs <3 It's beautiful, you get a great sense of the comunity. And and <3 the innocent idea that the King might be on the palace roof. <3 I adore that!
And... the continues Eggplant stuff is awesome, it made me giggle out loud when Nimay's ended up in Yamins bowl after all that. <3
I adore thier family life, I think it opens up the world so beautifully, and it's exciting with the prospect of the Own challange.
Eeee ~ Awesome Narti! Sorry it's taken me so long to read. @_@
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Date: 2008-01-25 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-10 02:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-10 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-11 06:22 pm (UTC)I agree with you re Okay. I think my sensibilities must have changed since writing this three years ago *makes note to fix that*
So, so glad their family comes across as interesting :D
I would love it if I met a pair of twins whose names were indeed the reverse of each other, that would make me squee XD Kivan and Navic are gorgeous names <3