15min fic #85
Dec. 15th, 2004 01:45 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Magical Attack
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still~ mine
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 85. I realised I've actually done nothing on this, and possibly only my betas will know anything about it. The sapphires on the twins' bangles (not the yrae stone, the sapphires) have been infused with some of Yan's magic. When someone attacks Nimay magically in a way that would ordinarily kill her, Yamin loses one of the sapphires. When they've all disappeared, 'may dies, and ovbiously vice versa.
~ ~ ~
Three days ago, Nimay had seen the last of the flat red desert of Raykin. In its place lay the rolling hills of the kingdom’s highlands. Pale, silver-brown grass tickled at Ashburn’s hooves, and a comparatively cool breeze blew down from the cold Kazinian mountains to the north.
Two days ago, the Own had passed through Ni-Horia, the last Raykinian town they would see for two months. To Nimay, seeing the villagers again on the return journey was almost as beautiful an experience as steering Ashburn through the streets of Ni-Yana once more. They often spent a day or two there to recuperate after the long campaign, and the residents of Ni-Horia always gave them a warm, friendly welcome.
Yesterday, the group of fifteen horse riders, plus the king on the back of a camel, had bid farewell to the last remnant of Raykin and had left the Ra-Lin behind. Most travellers to the northern kingdom took the main road that ran along the bank of the mighty river, here not much more than a stream, but the riders of the Own had long since disregarded the idea and instead rode across country in order to avoid the abundant Houses that littered the road.
The breeze, which had been a refreshing change from the hot, dusty wind of the desert, was now considerably chillier. The trees were growing taller, and there was much less space between them. When Nimay glanced up, patches of grey and white marred the pristine blue she was used to. Her expression almost instantly turned sour as she thought of the inclement weather that was to come.
Still, she thought, at least the present mission didn’t actually take place in the mountains; they would break through into the warm tropics in a few weeks.
Just as she was musing about what would be on the other side of the water-logged forests, incredible pain grabbed hold of every fibre of her body. She gasped, simultaneously pulling the reins and squeezing her heels into her mare’s flanks as she curled herself into an agonising foetal position. Ashburn halted and flicked an ear, confused as to what exactly Nimay wanted her to do.
The mare was the last thing on Nimay’s mind. Needles pricked at every available area of skin, from inside and out. Blades were dragged down spine and limbs. The weight of her clothes against her skin felt like woven razor blades. She was certain that, even behind all that pain, she could feel blood flowing freely from the wounds, slicking her flesh.
Even her muscles and bones ached, far more than they would have after a full day of training. Though she was curled up in the saddle, it felt as though ropes had been tied to wrists and ankles, and now ten horses pulled at each one. She whimpered quietly, painful tears leaking from her eyelids and scouring the delicate flesh beneath her eyes.
Someone asked her a question, making her ears ring fiercely. Something in the back of her mind, some tiny space, told her the voice was male, but whether it was because she could recognise the intonations or whether she knew there were only men she was travelling with, she didn’t know.
A hand that was meant to be comforting rested on her shoulder. She couldn’t help tearing away from the hand and crying out in agony. She couldn’t hear her voice for the ringing in her ears, but she could most definitely feel it, almost instantly cutting the scream short.
As suddenly as the pain had grabbed her, it ebbed away, leaving remnants that were more memories than actual pain. She shuddered and braced her hands on the pommel of her saddle, letting her feet hang loose from the stirrups as the tension flowed from her muscles.
Ashburn echoed the concern of the men, turning her head and rolling a worried eye in her rider’s direction.
Nimay nodded and ran her fingers through her fringe, glancing at her bangle as she did so. As she suspected, a third divot marred the silver band where a glittering sapphire once lay.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still~ mine
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 85. I realised I've actually done nothing on this, and possibly only my betas will know anything about it. The sapphires on the twins' bangles (not the yrae stone, the sapphires) have been infused with some of Yan's magic. When someone attacks Nimay magically in a way that would ordinarily kill her, Yamin loses one of the sapphires. When they've all disappeared, 'may dies, and ovbiously vice versa.
Three days ago, Nimay had seen the last of the flat red desert of Raykin. In its place lay the rolling hills of the kingdom’s highlands. Pale, silver-brown grass tickled at Ashburn’s hooves, and a comparatively cool breeze blew down from the cold Kazinian mountains to the north.
Two days ago, the Own had passed through Ni-Horia, the last Raykinian town they would see for two months. To Nimay, seeing the villagers again on the return journey was almost as beautiful an experience as steering Ashburn through the streets of Ni-Yana once more. They often spent a day or two there to recuperate after the long campaign, and the residents of Ni-Horia always gave them a warm, friendly welcome.
Yesterday, the group of fifteen horse riders, plus the king on the back of a camel, had bid farewell to the last remnant of Raykin and had left the Ra-Lin behind. Most travellers to the northern kingdom took the main road that ran along the bank of the mighty river, here not much more than a stream, but the riders of the Own had long since disregarded the idea and instead rode across country in order to avoid the abundant Houses that littered the road.
The breeze, which had been a refreshing change from the hot, dusty wind of the desert, was now considerably chillier. The trees were growing taller, and there was much less space between them. When Nimay glanced up, patches of grey and white marred the pristine blue she was used to. Her expression almost instantly turned sour as she thought of the inclement weather that was to come.
Still, she thought, at least the present mission didn’t actually take place in the mountains; they would break through into the warm tropics in a few weeks.
Just as she was musing about what would be on the other side of the water-logged forests, incredible pain grabbed hold of every fibre of her body. She gasped, simultaneously pulling the reins and squeezing her heels into her mare’s flanks as she curled herself into an agonising foetal position. Ashburn halted and flicked an ear, confused as to what exactly Nimay wanted her to do.
The mare was the last thing on Nimay’s mind. Needles pricked at every available area of skin, from inside and out. Blades were dragged down spine and limbs. The weight of her clothes against her skin felt like woven razor blades. She was certain that, even behind all that pain, she could feel blood flowing freely from the wounds, slicking her flesh.
Even her muscles and bones ached, far more than they would have after a full day of training. Though she was curled up in the saddle, it felt as though ropes had been tied to wrists and ankles, and now ten horses pulled at each one. She whimpered quietly, painful tears leaking from her eyelids and scouring the delicate flesh beneath her eyes.
Someone asked her a question, making her ears ring fiercely. Something in the back of her mind, some tiny space, told her the voice was male, but whether it was because she could recognise the intonations or whether she knew there were only men she was travelling with, she didn’t know.
A hand that was meant to be comforting rested on her shoulder. She couldn’t help tearing away from the hand and crying out in agony. She couldn’t hear her voice for the ringing in her ears, but she could most definitely feel it, almost instantly cutting the scream short.
As suddenly as the pain had grabbed her, it ebbed away, leaving remnants that were more memories than actual pain. She shuddered and braced her hands on the pommel of her saddle, letting her feet hang loose from the stirrups as the tension flowed from her muscles.
Ashburn echoed the concern of the men, turning her head and rolling a worried eye in her rider’s direction.
Nimay nodded and ran her fingers through her fringe, glancing at her bangle as she did so. As she suspected, a third divot marred the silver band where a glittering sapphire once lay.