kawa~ inspiration #36
Feb. 18th, 2005 04:37 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Yrae
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Yrae is mine~ fic is mine~ random girl who is actually Haela is mine~
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration 36. Takes place directly before The Price of Freedom. Hoi~ you can tell I wrote this at 4am .-.;; Let corniness reign again!
~ ~ ~
Gentle, golden sunlight turned the rusted red sands of the desert a rich red-gold, promising relief from the day’s intense heat. Since it had risen, the only respite from its harsh, white blaze was in the deep gorge north of the city, where the river burst out from the cliff-face.
It was here, atop the cliffs overlooking Ni-Yana, that the yrae perched. Its brilliant blue feathers were turned a dusky grey in the golden light, but the fabled blue jewel at the tip of its tail, draped nonchalantely over the edge of the cliff, continued to sparkle with its own sapphire light.
The yrae cocked its head, lifting its long, sinewy neck and abandoning its preening. It cooed gently, a sound reminiscent of the trickle of clear water, caught by the ears of a man dying of thirst. The bird cocked its head to the other side and cooed again, ruffling its feathers.
It spread its broad wingspan slightly, its broad flight feathers like snow dipped in midnight, a cool change to the burnt rust of the Raykinian desert. The warm breeze caught under the broad feathers, tickling the yrae’s wings and bringing another tinkling coo forth. It almost sounded amused, like the bird was laughing.
Its beak, drawn in a perpetual grin, smiled at the dying sun, and the yrae dove from the cliff. It allowed its wings to spread to their full span, dipping them so the warm air carried it easily into the clear sky.
The yrae drifted effortlessly over the sprawling city below, so high up now that anyone below would have mistaken it for an eagle, if they saw it at all. It cooed mournfully, dippering the warm air from its wings and dropping towards the city.
Ah, for the days when the yrae was a creature of myth, when only heros and the less fortunate were able to harness the yrae stone’s magic… The last yrae had been found by one of the worst possible candidates. Certainly he loved the freedom that the yrae’s wings brought him, but his tyranny had badly tarnished the glitter of the stone.
The yrae circled lower, its predator’s eyes darting through the golden-tinted streets for a more worthy holder of the yrae stone. A younger one perhaps, with a more innocent face. One who could make the yrae’s magic glorious once more.
The yrae’s black eyes locked on a young girl, walking alone in the deserted streets. Her strides were confident though—she had no idea of the dangers the city’s streets held at night. The yrae’s head jerked in what could only be interpreted as a nod, and it swooped lower still, eyes set firmly on the young girl.
By sunset, that girl would be riding the breeze, and freedom would hold true once more.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Yrae is mine~ fic is mine~ random girl who is actually Haela is mine~
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration 36. Takes place directly before The Price of Freedom. Hoi~ you can tell I wrote this at 4am .-.;; Let corniness reign again!
Gentle, golden sunlight turned the rusted red sands of the desert a rich red-gold, promising relief from the day’s intense heat. Since it had risen, the only respite from its harsh, white blaze was in the deep gorge north of the city, where the river burst out from the cliff-face.
It was here, atop the cliffs overlooking Ni-Yana, that the yrae perched. Its brilliant blue feathers were turned a dusky grey in the golden light, but the fabled blue jewel at the tip of its tail, draped nonchalantely over the edge of the cliff, continued to sparkle with its own sapphire light.
The yrae cocked its head, lifting its long, sinewy neck and abandoning its preening. It cooed gently, a sound reminiscent of the trickle of clear water, caught by the ears of a man dying of thirst. The bird cocked its head to the other side and cooed again, ruffling its feathers.
It spread its broad wingspan slightly, its broad flight feathers like snow dipped in midnight, a cool change to the burnt rust of the Raykinian desert. The warm breeze caught under the broad feathers, tickling the yrae’s wings and bringing another tinkling coo forth. It almost sounded amused, like the bird was laughing.
Its beak, drawn in a perpetual grin, smiled at the dying sun, and the yrae dove from the cliff. It allowed its wings to spread to their full span, dipping them so the warm air carried it easily into the clear sky.
The yrae drifted effortlessly over the sprawling city below, so high up now that anyone below would have mistaken it for an eagle, if they saw it at all. It cooed mournfully, dippering the warm air from its wings and dropping towards the city.
Ah, for the days when the yrae was a creature of myth, when only heros and the less fortunate were able to harness the yrae stone’s magic… The last yrae had been found by one of the worst possible candidates. Certainly he loved the freedom that the yrae’s wings brought him, but his tyranny had badly tarnished the glitter of the stone.
The yrae circled lower, its predator’s eyes darting through the golden-tinted streets for a more worthy holder of the yrae stone. A younger one perhaps, with a more innocent face. One who could make the yrae’s magic glorious once more.
The yrae’s black eyes locked on a young girl, walking alone in the deserted streets. Her strides were confident though—she had no idea of the dangers the city’s streets held at night. The yrae’s head jerked in what could only be interpreted as a nod, and it swooped lower still, eyes set firmly on the young girl.
By sunset, that girl would be riding the breeze, and freedom would hold true once more.