15min fic #48
Sep. 28th, 2004 09:13 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~ Collector
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Yan is mine. So're Raykin and Kazin, for that matter. And the fic, can't forget the fic.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 48. Just cos I haven't done a lot with the old bastid in these fics.
~ ~ ~
Yan lounged lazily atop the cliff, running his dark eyes along the lumpy, green horizon, shrouded by the omnipresent mist that hung over the kingdom’s rainforest. It was quite a different horizon to the flat orange of his homeland. Somewhere off to his left, the thundering of a waterfall reached his ears, muffled by the forest separating it from him.
Regardless of the prejudices a man from Raykin should have shown, the fallen king didn’t mind admitting he preferred the moist green of Kazin’s rainforest over his homeland’s bone-dry, featureless desert. If nothing else, there was so much more variety in the landscape. He smirked slightly. The politics of the region provided much more enjoyment than in Raykin. Kazin was always at war with itself, offering many more opportunities for Yan to mess with them.
He pushed himself into a sitting position, working the silver band from his index finger and drawing the rest of his modest collection from his pocket.
Three rich blue stones glistened in the sunlight, seeming to release a light of their own.
The oldest of the three was embedded into a ring of silver, and for Yan it held the most memories. It was the first one to give him wings and allow him to see Raykin from a perspective none had seen it from before. Even four thousand years later, the thrill of flying hadn’t worn down.
The second stone, which hung from a tarnished, brass chain, had puzzled him at first. He hadn’t quite known what to expect from holding two yrae stones in his palm, but as it turned out, nothing had happened. His wingspan hadn’t grown, hadn’t changed; now new markings or sets of wings had made themselves known; the application of his magic had remained the same. Had he not seen the girl flying with the aid of the stone, he might have thought it was merely a sapphire.
Yan’s most recent acquisition shone from the silver pendant of an yrae-shaped necklace. He’d gained it barely three weeks past.
Three stones, but enough to constitute a collection. As far as anyone knew, they were the only three yrae stones in existence. Doubtless others had been found before Yan had found his first four thousand years ago, but they could quite literally be anywhere. They might have even been ground to dust by now; Yan had no way of knowing if the stones were susceptible to erosion. He was less than willing to test the theory himself.
He formed a fist around the stones, glancing out again at the misty green horizon. He knew exactly what he wished to do with the stones—he had after all been mulling the idea over for the past four millennia—now it was just a simple matter of implementing it.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Yan is mine. So're Raykin and Kazin, for that matter. And the fic, can't forget the fic.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 48. Just cos I haven't done a lot with the old bastid in these fics.
Yan lounged lazily atop the cliff, running his dark eyes along the lumpy, green horizon, shrouded by the omnipresent mist that hung over the kingdom’s rainforest. It was quite a different horizon to the flat orange of his homeland. Somewhere off to his left, the thundering of a waterfall reached his ears, muffled by the forest separating it from him.
Regardless of the prejudices a man from Raykin should have shown, the fallen king didn’t mind admitting he preferred the moist green of Kazin’s rainforest over his homeland’s bone-dry, featureless desert. If nothing else, there was so much more variety in the landscape. He smirked slightly. The politics of the region provided much more enjoyment than in Raykin. Kazin was always at war with itself, offering many more opportunities for Yan to mess with them.
He pushed himself into a sitting position, working the silver band from his index finger and drawing the rest of his modest collection from his pocket.
Three rich blue stones glistened in the sunlight, seeming to release a light of their own.
The oldest of the three was embedded into a ring of silver, and for Yan it held the most memories. It was the first one to give him wings and allow him to see Raykin from a perspective none had seen it from before. Even four thousand years later, the thrill of flying hadn’t worn down.
The second stone, which hung from a tarnished, brass chain, had puzzled him at first. He hadn’t quite known what to expect from holding two yrae stones in his palm, but as it turned out, nothing had happened. His wingspan hadn’t grown, hadn’t changed; now new markings or sets of wings had made themselves known; the application of his magic had remained the same. Had he not seen the girl flying with the aid of the stone, he might have thought it was merely a sapphire.
Yan’s most recent acquisition shone from the silver pendant of an yrae-shaped necklace. He’d gained it barely three weeks past.
Three stones, but enough to constitute a collection. As far as anyone knew, they were the only three yrae stones in existence. Doubtless others had been found before Yan had found his first four thousand years ago, but they could quite literally be anywhere. They might have even been ground to dust by now; Yan had no way of knowing if the stones were susceptible to erosion. He was less than willing to test the theory himself.
He formed a fist around the stones, glancing out again at the misty green horizon. He knew exactly what he wished to do with the stones—he had after all been mulling the idea over for the past four millennia—now it was just a simple matter of implementing it.