Fill: Challenge 289, Lemy'es
Dec. 3rd, 2023 05:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lantairvlea posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tenminutesadayO, hi! Resurfacing after Miniwrimo. I managed to log 17,881 words for the month, exceeding my 300 word a day goal and managing to average 596 words, low count was 304, highest was 4270, which was mostly transcribing an hour and a half or so dictating I did during a long drive to and from some clients. I think I managed to figure out what is going to happen during the three month gap I've been staring at. I was initially thinking it was going to be nothing much interesting and then this bit came out and I'm still trying to think of how it's going to affect the rest of the story.
This takes place a couple weeks before the end of the third and final term at Engama.
She wanted to find traces of them, but she felt strange entering their spaces. These places had been abandoned, but it still felt like she was intruding. She didn't take anything. She recorded what she found in a notebook.
She stopped mid-step. A tingling ran down her spine. She touched the doorway and took a breath. The space had an energy to it, strange, alive, perhaps sacred. She was a guest here. She was uninvited. She had to respect what was there. She had to respect the energy that they left behind.
Sray sat down instead of entering, pressing the candle into the stone floor behind her. She didn't want to intrude on someone else's sacred space. Her legs criss-crossed she sat upright and drew her head up and shoulders back as she inhaled long and slow through her nose.
She sat with the space, feeling how it differed from the area outside. It was warmer. That was the obvious difference and the first she noticed, but it was something else, too. It felt charged with latent energy, waiting for just the right trigger to ignite. As she sat, the energy ran in tingly strands through her body. Starting at the base of her neck and sliding down her spine, it then tingled through her arms before traveling in prickly trails through her legs. Her fingers and toes flexed and softened as she took another deep breath, allowing the feel of the place to continue to wash over her in soft waves, trying to place the exact sensations, but only having approximations to go by. It felt like the place was feeling her out too, trying to determine if she belonged to the space or not and seeking out her intent.
She allowed the space to be and it seemed to allow her presence where she was, seated respectfully on the edge of it. It was a long time before she shifted positions, finally tucking her legs under so she was on her knees and then bent forward at her waist, pressing her forehead to the stone floor and placing her hands flat against each other, thumbs touching the top of her head and fingers pointing upward.
"Great organizers of all things," she began aloud in Getie'an, following the pattern and language she had learned as a child to use when speaking to the divine. "I know this is a place sacred to thee and I respect it as such. Thy children have been banished from this place for many years. I do not know if they were Brehtsoln or Zegdaen, but if I find it in my power to do so, I promise I will help them return." Her words filled the once-silent space, echoing softly back to her from the far reaches that could not be seen from the dim candle glow. She waited for the sounds to fully dissipate and then waited longer. The energy shifted slightly, pulling towards the room's center before a rush of intense gratitude nearly overwhelmed her. Had she not already been prostrate on the floor she was sure she would no longer be standing.
She inhaled a shaky breath. She had not anticipated a response, let alone one that felt so tangible. "I thank thee for thine acknowledgement." Slowly, she sat back up, wiping her face and exhaling as she blinked into the darkness. No physical being was there. Just her and the spirits.
She had not thought about it until she spoke the words. It had, perhaps, been percolating in the back of her mind, but she did not consciously have the thought. Restore them. Let them back to their sacred places. How would she even do that?
She stook, her legs felt weak and she was a little light-headed. She leaned into the doorframe and took some deep breaths to steady herself before picking up the candle and moving back towards the entrance.
Restoring the Klamon to this area. How could she expect to do that? Danrick Mishor had said he wanted peace. He wanted to see Man and Klamon together again, but would he really want to be living next to them? She couldn't just hike into the hills and dismantle the barriers. She didn't have the language to tell them anything, even if she found them. This would be a project of years, decades even, if it ever had the opportunity to happen at all.
She suddenly felt heavy and overburdened. It had felt so right in the moment. The most obvious thing to do and say. Truly it was what she wanted. If she could do it, she would see Klamon in these mountains again, but how? Thankfully the divine are not known for their tight timetables.
She slowly made her way back to the entrance. The door shut heavily behind her. She stared at it, lifted up her hand and touched her fingers to the wood, tracing the grain thoughtfully. There should be Klamon here. They should be able to reclaim their old lands and serve as stewards for it once more. She knew what it was like to be banished from your homeland. Straightening, she inhaled again, allowing the breath to lift her alongside her resolution.
"I'll be back." She promised.
I don't know if I'll be finished come the end of December, but I'm closer than I was this time last year that is for sure! Closing in on 300 pages, which is exciting.
So how did November treat you all? I'm hoping to be a little more active here as I near the end of FFK and get ready to send it off to my client who is an editor and publisher. I have to get it a bit more finished first, but wish me luck.
This takes place a couple weeks before the end of the third and final term at Engama.
She wanted to find traces of them, but she felt strange entering their spaces. These places had been abandoned, but it still felt like she was intruding. She didn't take anything. She recorded what she found in a notebook.
She stopped mid-step. A tingling ran down her spine. She touched the doorway and took a breath. The space had an energy to it, strange, alive, perhaps sacred. She was a guest here. She was uninvited. She had to respect what was there. She had to respect the energy that they left behind.
Sray sat down instead of entering, pressing the candle into the stone floor behind her. She didn't want to intrude on someone else's sacred space. Her legs criss-crossed she sat upright and drew her head up and shoulders back as she inhaled long and slow through her nose.
She sat with the space, feeling how it differed from the area outside. It was warmer. That was the obvious difference and the first she noticed, but it was something else, too. It felt charged with latent energy, waiting for just the right trigger to ignite. As she sat, the energy ran in tingly strands through her body. Starting at the base of her neck and sliding down her spine, it then tingled through her arms before traveling in prickly trails through her legs. Her fingers and toes flexed and softened as she took another deep breath, allowing the feel of the place to continue to wash over her in soft waves, trying to place the exact sensations, but only having approximations to go by. It felt like the place was feeling her out too, trying to determine if she belonged to the space or not and seeking out her intent.
She allowed the space to be and it seemed to allow her presence where she was, seated respectfully on the edge of it. It was a long time before she shifted positions, finally tucking her legs under so she was on her knees and then bent forward at her waist, pressing her forehead to the stone floor and placing her hands flat against each other, thumbs touching the top of her head and fingers pointing upward.
"Great organizers of all things," she began aloud in Getie'an, following the pattern and language she had learned as a child to use when speaking to the divine. "I know this is a place sacred to thee and I respect it as such. Thy children have been banished from this place for many years. I do not know if they were Brehtsoln or Zegdaen, but if I find it in my power to do so, I promise I will help them return." Her words filled the once-silent space, echoing softly back to her from the far reaches that could not be seen from the dim candle glow. She waited for the sounds to fully dissipate and then waited longer. The energy shifted slightly, pulling towards the room's center before a rush of intense gratitude nearly overwhelmed her. Had she not already been prostrate on the floor she was sure she would no longer be standing.
She inhaled a shaky breath. She had not anticipated a response, let alone one that felt so tangible. "I thank thee for thine acknowledgement." Slowly, she sat back up, wiping her face and exhaling as she blinked into the darkness. No physical being was there. Just her and the spirits.
She had not thought about it until she spoke the words. It had, perhaps, been percolating in the back of her mind, but she did not consciously have the thought. Restore them. Let them back to their sacred places. How would she even do that?
She stook, her legs felt weak and she was a little light-headed. She leaned into the doorframe and took some deep breaths to steady herself before picking up the candle and moving back towards the entrance.
Restoring the Klamon to this area. How could she expect to do that? Danrick Mishor had said he wanted peace. He wanted to see Man and Klamon together again, but would he really want to be living next to them? She couldn't just hike into the hills and dismantle the barriers. She didn't have the language to tell them anything, even if she found them. This would be a project of years, decades even, if it ever had the opportunity to happen at all.
She suddenly felt heavy and overburdened. It had felt so right in the moment. The most obvious thing to do and say. Truly it was what she wanted. If she could do it, she would see Klamon in these mountains again, but how? Thankfully the divine are not known for their tight timetables.
She slowly made her way back to the entrance. The door shut heavily behind her. She stared at it, lifted up her hand and touched her fingers to the wood, tracing the grain thoughtfully. There should be Klamon here. They should be able to reclaim their old lands and serve as stewards for it once more. She knew what it was like to be banished from your homeland. Straightening, she inhaled again, allowing the breath to lift her alongside her resolution.
"I'll be back." She promised.
I don't know if I'll be finished come the end of December, but I'm closer than I was this time last year that is for sure! Closing in on 300 pages, which is exciting.
So how did November treat you all? I'm hoping to be a little more active here as I near the end of FFK and get ready to send it off to my client who is an editor and publisher. I have to get it a bit more finished first, but wish me luck.
