In Discord Challenges
Aug 09, 2022
Cerylia stared at Rivan through the crackling fire between them, chewing slowly. He looked like he could be her age, but she knew that humans had much shorter life spans than the Fae did. It was entirely possible that her entire childhood had preceded his existence, maybe even longer. Not like she cared; he was only here because the Old Magic couldn’t be broken, or, at least, she hadn’t figured out a way yet. She looked away, back out over Stonespire Lake, before he could catch her, though even if he had it didn’t matter. She was just curious—despite how much she hated humans for what they’d done to her people, she knew almost nothing about them. That was a disadvantage. Warfare, she’d been taught, wasn’t about the strongest or largest forces. It was about knowing what drove those forces, and how best to break them down. She would need to find what made Rivan tick, and perhaps then he would break the Bond between them that she so desperately wanted to sever. She got the feeling that he also didn’t like being dragged into the mess that she’d found herself thrown into, but the Old Magic was more powerful than she’d ever thought. Rivan finally broke the heavy silence. “So where are you from?” “Ostet,” she replied, looking away from the black water lapping the edges of the firelight. His brow furrowed. “What’s that, a village?” “It’s the capital of the forest fae,” she spat, incensed at his ignorance. “The proudest city in the Faewood.” “How should I know, if we aren’t allowed in there?” Cerylia scowled. “That was your own people's doing. It’s for the best, anyway. All you humans like to do is cut down our trees and hunt our animals.” Rivan looked down at the piece of meat he pulled off the fire. “You don’t eat them too?” “Not usually. Only on special occasions, and even then we’re respectful about it.” “Funny to talk about respect of life to a seasoned warrior,” he mused, taking a bite. “Or so you say.” “I’m not even answering that, human.” She popped a berry in her mouth, chewing furiously. “How old are you anyway? You don’t look old enough to be a Captain.” “I’ve seen 56 annals,” she frowned. “You don’t look a day over twenty,” he said, leaning forward to scrutinize her. Now was the perfect time to garner some information. “I don’t think we age the same. How long do your people live?” “I don’t know, about seventy years if you’re lucky. Yours?” “My mother is nearing her 400th annal.” Rivan sucked in a breath. “Damn, that’s a long time.” “For you, yes, but she will live a great many more.” Cerylia paused, realization sinking in. How could she have forgotten so quickly? “Or, would have, had she not been murdered,” she added, eating more berries to combat the tears rising in the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t about to let this human see her cry. [500 words]
In Discord Challenges
Aug 09, 2022
(SO I totally posted this on the wrong day because I was looking at today's date and not yesterday's BUT this was entered on time if you include that post.) Wolves howled a mournful song as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the forest in a blanket of soft blues and purples. I could hear them fan out beneath me, paws padding on the leaf-littered ground, snarling and yipping in excitement. They’d caught the scent of blood, and I was glad it was not mine. One by one, stars appeared in the canvas, beginning drops painting the mural that I would get to admire all evening. I looked up, feathers ruffling as the chill of twilight settled over my high pine branch, whistling through the needles. I did not miss the sun. The sun hurt my eyes, revealed me to my prey, and overall was better to skip entirely. After all, I was a creature of the night. Rolling my shoulders and flapping my wings, I took out in the opposite way of the wolves, not willing to cross paths with them tonight. Even though I could escape them in any high branch, it would not do well for them to have my scent. The moon, which had been shyly hanging in the sky since before the sun went down was gaining her strength as the light on the horizon faded, the last vestiges of the day maiden before she lay down for sleep. This was my favorite time, just after waking, when most of the forest was settling into nestle and burrow and den, I had the wind on my back, the thrill of the hunt in my bones, and the sparkling tapestry above me to light my way to breakfast.