15min fic #80
Dec. 10th, 2004 12:55 am![[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~ Deathsong
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All charries are mine~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 80. Getting back to the mini!fics, since I'm so behind on them, then once I'm back up to date with them, I'll be able to do Blade Archer on the days when there's no fic word =D I'm smurt.
~ ~ ~
Nimay raised one hand to her mouth, chewing absently on one finger as salt water pooled in her eyes. Cold pricks of drizzle lit on her skin, which already shone with perspiration and blood, but she didn’t notice it. She couldn’t even say how much of the blood was her own and how much of it had come from the dead and dying men who lay in the mud around her.
She couldn’t say when the leather-bound hilt of her sword slipped from her grip, and her fingers moved to work vaguely at the yrae stone. She felt completely numb all over.
Someone slung a careless arm over her shoulder. She couldn’t say who, couldn’t recall what he had said. Something about a gash in her leg, maybe.
“Nimay?” he asked when the swordswoman didn’t give a response.
Nimay blinked tightly, dual drops of salt water mingling with the rain on either cheek. The arm dropped away when her fellow horse rider followed her gaze.
“Aeia,” he whispered, but not as a curse. It was a recognition of the death-goddess’ presence, not so much among the bodies of the Kazinian soldiers—they had deities of their own—but in the black-clad form of the General.
The motionless Rau was the only thing that registered in Nimay’s mind, and even that undeniable fact was blurred. Her mind argued with itself, trying to convince her that he was merely wounded. The angle of his neck and the pool of dark liquid he lay in were nothing more than illusion. The yrae stone could bring him back.
She was almost willing to attempt this last thought, but knew through personal experience that attempting to heal even torn flesh made her feel dizzy. She wasn’t willing to experiment on trying to cause a frozen heart to start beating once more, no matter whose heart it was.
A bird somewhere nearby began singing loudly, its mournful calls echoing through the waterlogged forest. Long, dismal notes, in an alien tune no musical instrument could hope to replicated.
Nimay shook her head slowly and closed her eyes. In future, she’d never be able to hear that bird’s song in the same way.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All charries are mine~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 80. Getting back to the mini!fics, since I'm so behind on them, then once I'm back up to date with them, I'll be able to do Blade Archer on the days when there's no fic word =D I'm smurt.
Nimay raised one hand to her mouth, chewing absently on one finger as salt water pooled in her eyes. Cold pricks of drizzle lit on her skin, which already shone with perspiration and blood, but she didn’t notice it. She couldn’t even say how much of the blood was her own and how much of it had come from the dead and dying men who lay in the mud around her.
She couldn’t say when the leather-bound hilt of her sword slipped from her grip, and her fingers moved to work vaguely at the yrae stone. She felt completely numb all over.
Someone slung a careless arm over her shoulder. She couldn’t say who, couldn’t recall what he had said. Something about a gash in her leg, maybe.
“Nimay?” he asked when the swordswoman didn’t give a response.
Nimay blinked tightly, dual drops of salt water mingling with the rain on either cheek. The arm dropped away when her fellow horse rider followed her gaze.
“Aeia,” he whispered, but not as a curse. It was a recognition of the death-goddess’ presence, not so much among the bodies of the Kazinian soldiers—they had deities of their own—but in the black-clad form of the General.
The motionless Rau was the only thing that registered in Nimay’s mind, and even that undeniable fact was blurred. Her mind argued with itself, trying to convince her that he was merely wounded. The angle of his neck and the pool of dark liquid he lay in were nothing more than illusion. The yrae stone could bring him back.
She was almost willing to attempt this last thought, but knew through personal experience that attempting to heal even torn flesh made her feel dizzy. She wasn’t willing to experiment on trying to cause a frozen heart to start beating once more, no matter whose heart it was.
A bird somewhere nearby began singing loudly, its mournful calls echoing through the waterlogged forest. Long, dismal notes, in an alien tune no musical instrument could hope to replicated.
Nimay shook her head slowly and closed her eyes. In future, she’d never be able to hear that bird’s song in the same way.