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yraeAUTHOR Annarti
DISCLAIMER All mine
NOTES Nimay musing about being an assassin. Aww, diddums.
~ ~ ~
Nimay sat bolt upright in bed, the harsh rushing of her breath in her throat and the thumping of her heart in her chest were the only sounds that reached her ears. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the weak grey light of her bedroom, and she grew conscious of the cold sweat on her face and neck. She hugged her knees and buried her face into them, but to no avail.
She took a few deep breaths to try and calm her nerves, hooking her dark hair behind her ears and sliding out of bed. She padded across to the window, rested her weight on its ledge and cast her glance out over the silver-grey landscape.
Instantly she could feel her heart rate begin to slow and her muscles relax. She closed her eyes and breathed in the cool night air before diving from the window and spreading her wings, seconds before she hit the ground.
The freedom she felt when she took to the air made her forget the dreams every time. They didn’t come very often anymore, but they hadn’t lost any of their ferocity. She could never remember much of them, just enough to make her consider dropping her title of assassin.
Even as she flew now, through the silent black air of midnight, the face of the little girl, giggling with delight, flashed across her mind. She clenched her eyes tight against it, but the girl’s face, now distraught at the sight of her dead father, continued to flit across her vision. That was all she could ever remember of the dream, but it was more than she needed.
Nimay sniffed and wiped a tear from either eye, gliding like a black shadow over Ni-Yana and to the desert beyond. There, she sought out her place of solitude; a large boulder next to a tall palm tree by the river that supplied Ni-Yana with water. She dropped lightly onto the brown boulder, not bothering to conceal her wings and just folding them against her back. The gentle starlight sparkled off the ripples in the river, making it shine out of the dark landscape like a glittering black and silver serpent.
The assassin tilted her head back and sighed, silently trying to tell herself that all the people she had killed would have killed her king had she not intervened. Usually that calmed her thoughts, but this time the memory of the little girl was too strong.
She sent a few idle sparks of turquoise-blue light over the surface of the water, watching how they reflected off the ripples and disappeared into the night.
What do I do? she pleaded at the river, but it gave her no reply. She sighed again and spread her wings, gliding along the silent river back to the city, but instead of immediately returning to her room, she wheeled around to the back of the palace, hovering outside the second-storey window of her king.
She rested her arms on the windowsill and gazed in at King Mithé. That was the reason she became an assassin. The only person in the world who looked at her as just another person. He didn’t see her for her magic or her wings or even her skills with any weapon that was placed in her hand.
Nimay smiled and dropped from the window, swinging around to her room.
But just as she was about to retract her wings and dive through the window, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. To her left, in the window of the turret in the palace’s corner, stood a white figure. She grabbed onto the ledge with one hand and supported herself with her leg, flapping her wings to keep from falling.
She’d seen the figure before, upon returning from one of her missions, but something kept her from flying over there and finding out who he or she was. She suspected the figure was a she, but couldn’t be sure.
The figure lifted one hand, palm out as though waving, then faded to grey, and finally black.
Nimay frowned and stared at the now-vacant window for a few seconds longer, before giving a few powerful flaps and launching herself into her bedroom. She frowned through her window one last time, wondering vaguely if indeed there had been a figure in the turret at all. As far as she knew, she was the only person anywhere with any sort of magic, and certainly someone with a complexion that pale wouldn’t be able to keep themselves quiet for long.
She shook her head and slid back under the covers, all memories of the dream forgotten.
DISCLAIMER All mine
NOTES Nimay musing about being an assassin. Aww, diddums.
Nimay sat bolt upright in bed, the harsh rushing of her breath in her throat and the thumping of her heart in her chest were the only sounds that reached her ears. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the weak grey light of her bedroom, and she grew conscious of the cold sweat on her face and neck. She hugged her knees and buried her face into them, but to no avail.
She took a few deep breaths to try and calm her nerves, hooking her dark hair behind her ears and sliding out of bed. She padded across to the window, rested her weight on its ledge and cast her glance out over the silver-grey landscape.
Instantly she could feel her heart rate begin to slow and her muscles relax. She closed her eyes and breathed in the cool night air before diving from the window and spreading her wings, seconds before she hit the ground.
The freedom she felt when she took to the air made her forget the dreams every time. They didn’t come very often anymore, but they hadn’t lost any of their ferocity. She could never remember much of them, just enough to make her consider dropping her title of assassin.
Even as she flew now, through the silent black air of midnight, the face of the little girl, giggling with delight, flashed across her mind. She clenched her eyes tight against it, but the girl’s face, now distraught at the sight of her dead father, continued to flit across her vision. That was all she could ever remember of the dream, but it was more than she needed.
Nimay sniffed and wiped a tear from either eye, gliding like a black shadow over Ni-Yana and to the desert beyond. There, she sought out her place of solitude; a large boulder next to a tall palm tree by the river that supplied Ni-Yana with water. She dropped lightly onto the brown boulder, not bothering to conceal her wings and just folding them against her back. The gentle starlight sparkled off the ripples in the river, making it shine out of the dark landscape like a glittering black and silver serpent.
The assassin tilted her head back and sighed, silently trying to tell herself that all the people she had killed would have killed her king had she not intervened. Usually that calmed her thoughts, but this time the memory of the little girl was too strong.
She sent a few idle sparks of turquoise-blue light over the surface of the water, watching how they reflected off the ripples and disappeared into the night.
What do I do? she pleaded at the river, but it gave her no reply. She sighed again and spread her wings, gliding along the silent river back to the city, but instead of immediately returning to her room, she wheeled around to the back of the palace, hovering outside the second-storey window of her king.
She rested her arms on the windowsill and gazed in at King Mithé. That was the reason she became an assassin. The only person in the world who looked at her as just another person. He didn’t see her for her magic or her wings or even her skills with any weapon that was placed in her hand.
Nimay smiled and dropped from the window, swinging around to her room.
But just as she was about to retract her wings and dive through the window, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. To her left, in the window of the turret in the palace’s corner, stood a white figure. She grabbed onto the ledge with one hand and supported herself with her leg, flapping her wings to keep from falling.
She’d seen the figure before, upon returning from one of her missions, but something kept her from flying over there and finding out who he or she was. She suspected the figure was a she, but couldn’t be sure.
The figure lifted one hand, palm out as though waving, then faded to grey, and finally black.
Nimay frowned and stared at the now-vacant window for a few seconds longer, before giving a few powerful flaps and launching herself into her bedroom. She frowned through her window one last time, wondering vaguely if indeed there had been a figure in the turret at all. As far as she knew, she was the only person anywhere with any sort of magic, and certainly someone with a complexion that pale wouldn’t be able to keep themselves quiet for long.
She shook her head and slid back under the covers, all memories of the dream forgotten.