Random Challenge #4
Oct. 24th, 2004 11:16 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Parrot Song
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All~ mine =D
Notes~ Doing these: "Yamin~ annnnd... an intricate wind chime" ~set by Sallie ^^
~ ~ ~
It had become tradition for the King’s Own to bring back a small trinket from their journey to give to the healers upon their return. A basket of tropical fruits, perhaps, or one of the famed Kazinian rugs, always so much cheaper in the kingdom of origin rather than the rugs they sent down as imports. A small token of appreciation for what the healers did for them, given that they were undoubtedly the ones who used the healers’ services most often.
This time, the men had brought back a… thing. Yamin frowned at it as it made the rounds of the healers on duty that day.
It was a round hoop of steel with a number of steel rods, all of different lengths, hanging down from it. They jingled pleasantly when the object was passed around the speechless group of healers. A wooden carving of a pair of Kazinian macaws perched on the rim of the hoop. Yamin could see that a lot of work had gone into the carving—the feathers had been individually carved, and the painting was so beautifully detailed that it appeared to have been painted with a brush made of only a single hair.
“Um…” Auin volunteered, “What is it, exactly?”
“It’s a wind chime,” Rau explained. “In the tropics, there’s little if any wind, except when a cyclone’s coming, so they use that to warn them.”
The healers ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed, nodding as though they fully understood the concept. Yamin suspected that only two or three of them knew what a cyclone was.
Auin experimentally held the wind chime by the string and blew at the wooden paddle hidden amongst the forest of steel rods, smiling when the gentle tinkling issued forth. Yamin found herself smiling involuntarily as well, trying to imagine the sound trickling through a tiny village, somewhere deep in the Kazinian rainforest.
According to the General of the Own, the beautiful sound was a death-song up there, a warning of imminent danger. But in Ni-Yana, where wind was just about as commonplace as the desert sand, the wind chime was a thing of foreign beauty.
Yamin pressed her hands together in thanks to the General, who inclined his head towards the healers, then left them to their work.
Auin looked up around the bell-topped ceiling of the healing house, rimmed with small windows on all sides, and frowned critically. “Is there anywhere we can actually hang it?” she asked helplessly.
The other healers scrutinised the room and its smoothly curved walls before Nanuka made a suggestion.
“We could hang it from a palm.”
The head healer glanced out the back door of the healing house at the small herb garden, shaded by numerous palm trees. ‘Are you volunteering to climb up there, Nanuka?”
Yamin giggled, then took the wind chime from her superior and carried it to the herb garden. Using the magic in her yrae stone, she sent the wind chime up into the rustling fronds.
“I keep forgetting your other abilities,” Auin admitted, craning her neck to look up into the tree.
The bright yellow and red macaws swung happily among the dusty-green leaves, singing their tropical song to anyone who would stop by the healing house.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All~ mine =D
Notes~ Doing these: "Yamin~ annnnd... an intricate wind chime" ~set by Sallie ^^
It had become tradition for the King’s Own to bring back a small trinket from their journey to give to the healers upon their return. A basket of tropical fruits, perhaps, or one of the famed Kazinian rugs, always so much cheaper in the kingdom of origin rather than the rugs they sent down as imports. A small token of appreciation for what the healers did for them, given that they were undoubtedly the ones who used the healers’ services most often.
This time, the men had brought back a… thing. Yamin frowned at it as it made the rounds of the healers on duty that day.
It was a round hoop of steel with a number of steel rods, all of different lengths, hanging down from it. They jingled pleasantly when the object was passed around the speechless group of healers. A wooden carving of a pair of Kazinian macaws perched on the rim of the hoop. Yamin could see that a lot of work had gone into the carving—the feathers had been individually carved, and the painting was so beautifully detailed that it appeared to have been painted with a brush made of only a single hair.
“Um…” Auin volunteered, “What is it, exactly?”
“It’s a wind chime,” Rau explained. “In the tropics, there’s little if any wind, except when a cyclone’s coming, so they use that to warn them.”
The healers ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed, nodding as though they fully understood the concept. Yamin suspected that only two or three of them knew what a cyclone was.
Auin experimentally held the wind chime by the string and blew at the wooden paddle hidden amongst the forest of steel rods, smiling when the gentle tinkling issued forth. Yamin found herself smiling involuntarily as well, trying to imagine the sound trickling through a tiny village, somewhere deep in the Kazinian rainforest.
According to the General of the Own, the beautiful sound was a death-song up there, a warning of imminent danger. But in Ni-Yana, where wind was just about as commonplace as the desert sand, the wind chime was a thing of foreign beauty.
Yamin pressed her hands together in thanks to the General, who inclined his head towards the healers, then left them to their work.
Auin looked up around the bell-topped ceiling of the healing house, rimmed with small windows on all sides, and frowned critically. “Is there anywhere we can actually hang it?” she asked helplessly.
The other healers scrutinised the room and its smoothly curved walls before Nanuka made a suggestion.
“We could hang it from a palm.”
The head healer glanced out the back door of the healing house at the small herb garden, shaded by numerous palm trees. ‘Are you volunteering to climb up there, Nanuka?”
Yamin giggled, then took the wind chime from her superior and carried it to the herb garden. Using the magic in her yrae stone, she sent the wind chime up into the rustling fronds.
“I keep forgetting your other abilities,” Auin admitted, craning her neck to look up into the tree.
The bright yellow and red macaws swung happily among the dusty-green leaves, singing their tropical song to anyone who would stop by the healing house.