okay, most of you know the drill!
1. first come, first serve.
2. be sure to include the option letter (a, b, c, d).
3. to make things fair for everyone, your option preference cannot be chosen three times in a row. if your answer has been picked twice in a row, you must wait for another update in order to be qualified...if that makes ANY SENSE
4. don't spam demand for updates it's rude hurr
an interactive requires readers. especially ones that post. so like, please don't just let this sit here and rot unless its really really bad writing. because that would be sad.
and sorry if i screw up any of the magistream culture or whatever (like, direwolves can be found in the stream, something like that ._.)
50% chance of being abandoned in late future
average word count per part - oh who even cares? not meeee
all parts are updated on the first post as well~
B E G I N
Spoiler
A wraith of stars scattered over the sky and shone, lovingly, over the celebrations. Lanterns glowed amber and swayed with the dances of the people, scattering droplets of magic from their brims. The air trembled from the laughing, the singing, and the joy of all villagers.
The child listened carefully to these sounds, crouching against her house. Feet itched the dirt, yearning to run. The hasty beat of a youth's heart thumped down, down, down.
Then, when the last shadow had exited the house, the child tumbled down the slopes past the village. Across the grassy path, smooth against soles. Along the Koi Pool, slipping and tripping on lines of rocks. Down to the bottom of the hill, where the Keep glowed gold that night.
They, too, were holding a festival. The child slowed down, caught in awe by the sparks of magic sent up into the air. Like the stars, only closer, but colder. In Lake Lakira, beasts with fins and gills sprang for the moon. Large dragons lined the horizon and shot forth in place of comets and meteors.
Downhill the child ran, faster than a blur, until the Keep was closer than ever before. Pines gave way to leafy shrugs and pebbles. When the world finally stopped its tumble, a sparkling stream sat in view.
Within it, eggs. Eggs of choice, wonder, and power. Eggs of fate.
Breathless, the child strolled into the water, with rolled pants and sleeves. The surface was clear at night, save for the white streaks of foam crashing together. Of all the spheres and shapes bouncing in the Stream, only a few could be distinguished in the night's soft tones, and not very well at all. It would be so much easier to return at daylight and pick the best ones that could be found.
But, the child thought. But, there was only one chance. This here was that chance. Mother wouldn't let another one happen again until many, many years, and then it would be too late.
The heartbeat slowed, caught in a trance, as two small hands reached down into the water.
The child listened carefully to these sounds, crouching against her house. Feet itched the dirt, yearning to run. The hasty beat of a youth's heart thumped down, down, down.
Then, when the last shadow had exited the house, the child tumbled down the slopes past the village. Across the grassy path, smooth against soles. Along the Koi Pool, slipping and tripping on lines of rocks. Down to the bottom of the hill, where the Keep glowed gold that night.
They, too, were holding a festival. The child slowed down, caught in awe by the sparks of magic sent up into the air. Like the stars, only closer, but colder. In Lake Lakira, beasts with fins and gills sprang for the moon. Large dragons lined the horizon and shot forth in place of comets and meteors.
Downhill the child ran, faster than a blur, until the Keep was closer than ever before. Pines gave way to leafy shrugs and pebbles. When the world finally stopped its tumble, a sparkling stream sat in view.
Within it, eggs. Eggs of choice, wonder, and power. Eggs of fate.
Breathless, the child strolled into the water, with rolled pants and sleeves. The surface was clear at night, save for the white streaks of foam crashing together. Of all the spheres and shapes bouncing in the Stream, only a few could be distinguished in the night's soft tones, and not very well at all. It would be so much easier to return at daylight and pick the best ones that could be found.
But, the child thought. But, there was only one chance. This here was that chance. Mother wouldn't let another one happen again until many, many years, and then it would be too late.
The heartbeat slowed, caught in a trance, as two small hands reached down into the water.
Which egg did the child take?
a) A sphere that gleams like a jewel
b) An egg with fur and white stripes
c) An indistinguishable egg
d) An egg with two round ears
Update: The chosen option was (c).
N E X T
Spoiler
The child took the last egg, the shadowed one that bobbed silently in the rippling waters. Now that it was closer, some of its features could be seen; four protruding spikes, and a small bump along the surface. It felt cold and delicate, like a prickly snow-globe. And beneath the surface, there was a warmth as well; yet with her freezing fingers, the child couldn't sense it. There was only a bitter, fearful frost.
Hopefully, it was good enough.
Something crackled in the trees. Branches snapped and tore against heavy boots, trudging toward the Stream. With a gasp, the youth spun around and ran. There was no need to see the newcomer. If anyone happened to witness a lone child, idly plucking an egg from the Keep's property, questions would spout forth.
Questions required answers, and none of which the child wished to answer.
Feet pounded against the dirt again, skidding logs and startling foliage. Rough and calloused from many other adventures, they had no trouble gaining traction on rocks and thorns. Back to the village the child sped, clutching the poached egg against thin cloth. Chills spread through the surface and into skin.
When, at last, the cold could not be withstood, the child halted and flung the egg away. It rolled, rolled, rolled, leaving a trail of frozen grass.
An inky paw stopped its tumble, crushing it into the ground. The stern, scarlet eyes of a Manticore looked down at it formally, then back to the child. It's leathery wings stretched out intimidatingly. For once, the child stood frozen in shock. It had followed at an even swifter speed, which was much to say even for a beast. Nobody had ever been that fast.
A moment later, the child noticed another figure. Not an animal, but a man - young, slim, with auburn hair. He wore a large cloak that all the village children liked to dress up in, pretending they were magi, but his was magnificently real.
"Who are you?" he asked, eyes shining. "Did you just take an egg from the Stream?"
The child's limbs trembled in anticipation, and took a step back. Only to realize, however, that was one step closer to the Manticore. Enemies, on both sides.
Everything had gone wrong.
The man stepped closer and grabbed the child's arm. "Hey, answer me. What are you doing her - whoa! Calm down!" His Manticore growled as the child panicked and lashed out, punching and kicking.
"I'm not going to harm you," he said calmly. "And neither is Thart. Now, tell me, what's your name?"
Hopefully, it was good enough.
Something crackled in the trees. Branches snapped and tore against heavy boots, trudging toward the Stream. With a gasp, the youth spun around and ran. There was no need to see the newcomer. If anyone happened to witness a lone child, idly plucking an egg from the Keep's property, questions would spout forth.
Questions required answers, and none of which the child wished to answer.
Feet pounded against the dirt again, skidding logs and startling foliage. Rough and calloused from many other adventures, they had no trouble gaining traction on rocks and thorns. Back to the village the child sped, clutching the poached egg against thin cloth. Chills spread through the surface and into skin.
When, at last, the cold could not be withstood, the child halted and flung the egg away. It rolled, rolled, rolled, leaving a trail of frozen grass.
An inky paw stopped its tumble, crushing it into the ground. The stern, scarlet eyes of a Manticore looked down at it formally, then back to the child. It's leathery wings stretched out intimidatingly. For once, the child stood frozen in shock. It had followed at an even swifter speed, which was much to say even for a beast. Nobody had ever been that fast.
A moment later, the child noticed another figure. Not an animal, but a man - young, slim, with auburn hair. He wore a large cloak that all the village children liked to dress up in, pretending they were magi, but his was magnificently real.
"Who are you?" he asked, eyes shining. "Did you just take an egg from the Stream?"
The child's limbs trembled in anticipation, and took a step back. Only to realize, however, that was one step closer to the Manticore. Enemies, on both sides.
Everything had gone wrong.
The man stepped closer and grabbed the child's arm. "Hey, answer me. What are you doing her - whoa! Calm down!" His Manticore growled as the child panicked and lashed out, punching and kicking.
"I'm not going to harm you," he said calmly. "And neither is Thart. Now, tell me, what's your name?"
What is the child's name? (Please be sure to specify gender)
This question is open-ended, so no specific options will be provided.
Update: The chosen name was "Laura".
N E X T
Spoiler
The child's hair, cut short and ragged, parted to reveal the soft face of a girl. With a firm grip on her wrist, the man leaned closer to hear her reply. "Well?" he asked gently.
"Laura," she whispered, and bit his hand.
He let out a cry, either from pain or rage, and let go instinctively. She dropped down and scrambled away, rubbing the imprints his fingers had made. It reminded her too much of Mother. In front of her, the dark shadow of the Manticore sprang forth, and she dived to the side, hoping it would miss.
Instead, to her great relief, it bounded in consternation towards its master. Laura scooped up the egg - her egg - and wrapped it tightly in her shirt, hoping it would stop the chills. Then, she ran.
Her speed wouldn't last. A creature's roar pounded into the wind, blasting through the girl's ears. She doubted even the village wouldn't hear it. After it came a silent epilogue, in which she prayed with all her soul that she wouldn't be pursued - yet despite her pleas, the Manticore dropped down from the sky.
Thart glared vengefully, all traces of composure lost in impenetrable depths. Laura skipped to a stop, sending showers of dirt onto its paws and enraging it further.
The egg pulsed with winter's breath. It reminded her of him.
"Laura," she whispered, and bit his hand.
He let out a cry, either from pain or rage, and let go instinctively. She dropped down and scrambled away, rubbing the imprints his fingers had made. It reminded her too much of Mother. In front of her, the dark shadow of the Manticore sprang forth, and she dived to the side, hoping it would miss.
Instead, to her great relief, it bounded in consternation towards its master. Laura scooped up the egg - her egg - and wrapped it tightly in her shirt, hoping it would stop the chills. Then, she ran.
Her speed wouldn't last. A creature's roar pounded into the wind, blasting through the girl's ears. She doubted even the village wouldn't hear it. After it came a silent epilogue, in which she prayed with all her soul that she wouldn't be pursued - yet despite her pleas, the Manticore dropped down from the sky.
Thart glared vengefully, all traces of composure lost in impenetrable depths. Laura skipped to a stop, sending showers of dirt onto its paws and enraging it further.
The egg pulsed with winter's breath. It reminded her of him.
What should Laura do?
a) Attack Thart
b) Distract Thart
c) Try to escape anyway
d) Wait for it to attack
Update: The chosen option was (d).
N E X T
Spoiler
Her heartbeat was a feral drum, pounding at a frantic pace. Boom, boom, boom, like the din of the fireworks above. Yet the little girl's fingers were cold, clenched together in trembling snowballs. Her legs, despite their mind's willing, digressed the command to move.
With brittle fingers, she unraveled the egg and spread her hand across the surface. Keep going, the cold shape murmured. I'm still here. You want me, don't you?
Then keep going.
A scream tore from her lips as the Manticore leaped, its claws replaced with knives. They slashed down on her shoulders, biting flesh, and flung her to the earth. Laura bit her lip as the beast loomed over her; its lips pulled back, flashing sickly saber teeth.
Thart's jaws opened and fell with a mighty roar. She echoed it with a cry and shielded her face with her hands, which gripped the egg tightly. As the maw closed in distance, it clamped down onto her wrists. Fresh scarlet beads dripped down like curtains. For a moment, the two were frozen; trapped fighting each other, as Laura clung to her life and the beast sought to take it.
Then, the creature reared back with a resounding howl. Laura's egg dropped from its teeth and fell onto the ground, unscathed, a few meters from where she lay. The inside of Thart's mouth sparkled white and blue, as if small crystals had sprouted on its gums and spread the egg's chill with them.
As the Manticore danced in a ring, calling out in pain, she crawled shakily over to the egg and re-wrapped it in fabric. She stood up and felt a wave of illness wash through her, forcing her to her knees. The retching and the vomiting soon followed, although there was nothing to cough up, and so she coughed out empty air and shuddered alongside Thart, her enemy.
When the last ripple of nausea subsided, Laura's feet lead her away from the growls and snarls of the Manticore. They tripped over roots and logs this time, but still, managed to take her back to the path before the man caught up.
~
With a sigh, the girl shuffled along the empty path, one that winded through lantern-lit willows and wooden stockades. Her hair was speckled brown from soil. Cuts and bruises of all sizes and priorities ran along her limbs and chin.
Although the fireworks had stopped, fires still lit the heart of the village. Everyone would be staying late tonight, sharing stories with each other and rejoicing under the moonlight. Last year the elders had gathered around with the children and shared stories, while the boys chirped with each other and the girls giggled at their little games. She stopped her stumble to look at the wooden houses, wishing she were there to join them.
The egg's chilling pulse spread further, jolting her to the present. It was too late to make regrets. Her shirt had frozen over almost completely now, hanging delicately from her shoulders, letting her wonder if it would shatter if it dropped.
The moon cradled in the clouds, surrounded by starry ornaments. Laura stepped along the side of a farm, where the toothed shadow of an animal stalked about. One of the neighbor's alpacas would surely disappear that night. The grass that cushioned her soles gave way to dirt, fine and smooth, like sand and dust combined.
"Laura?" someone called.
She didn't dare turn around, yet the voice was clearly familiar. Behind her, a boy approached with timid steps, imitating a mouse. "Laura?" he asked again.
"Hi, Terin," she said.
"Hi." The black-haired child suddenly sounded confident. "I almost couldn't recognize you. I've never seen you in a white shirt before."
"Oh." Her shirt was supposed to be green, but she was reluctant to say.
After a pause, Terin rushed to add, "Not like that's bad or anything." He tilted his head. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you at all since the festival started."
She shrugged.
Her friend walked closer, but Laura quickly retreated, unwilling to let him near. "Are you okay?" Terin questioned carefully. "You don't look so good. And your arm looks kinda blue. Did you put it in the lake or something?" He took a moment to laugh.
Laura wished he wasn't so curious. "I'm going back home," she murmured.
"Aw, but the festival doesn't end until midnight! Why can't you stay?" Despite her efforts, the boy couldn't help but persist.
With brittle fingers, she unraveled the egg and spread her hand across the surface. Keep going, the cold shape murmured. I'm still here. You want me, don't you?
Then keep going.
A scream tore from her lips as the Manticore leaped, its claws replaced with knives. They slashed down on her shoulders, biting flesh, and flung her to the earth. Laura bit her lip as the beast loomed over her; its lips pulled back, flashing sickly saber teeth.
Thart's jaws opened and fell with a mighty roar. She echoed it with a cry and shielded her face with her hands, which gripped the egg tightly. As the maw closed in distance, it clamped down onto her wrists. Fresh scarlet beads dripped down like curtains. For a moment, the two were frozen; trapped fighting each other, as Laura clung to her life and the beast sought to take it.
Then, the creature reared back with a resounding howl. Laura's egg dropped from its teeth and fell onto the ground, unscathed, a few meters from where she lay. The inside of Thart's mouth sparkled white and blue, as if small crystals had sprouted on its gums and spread the egg's chill with them.
As the Manticore danced in a ring, calling out in pain, she crawled shakily over to the egg and re-wrapped it in fabric. She stood up and felt a wave of illness wash through her, forcing her to her knees. The retching and the vomiting soon followed, although there was nothing to cough up, and so she coughed out empty air and shuddered alongside Thart, her enemy.
When the last ripple of nausea subsided, Laura's feet lead her away from the growls and snarls of the Manticore. They tripped over roots and logs this time, but still, managed to take her back to the path before the man caught up.
~
With a sigh, the girl shuffled along the empty path, one that winded through lantern-lit willows and wooden stockades. Her hair was speckled brown from soil. Cuts and bruises of all sizes and priorities ran along her limbs and chin.
Although the fireworks had stopped, fires still lit the heart of the village. Everyone would be staying late tonight, sharing stories with each other and rejoicing under the moonlight. Last year the elders had gathered around with the children and shared stories, while the boys chirped with each other and the girls giggled at their little games. She stopped her stumble to look at the wooden houses, wishing she were there to join them.
The egg's chilling pulse spread further, jolting her to the present. It was too late to make regrets. Her shirt had frozen over almost completely now, hanging delicately from her shoulders, letting her wonder if it would shatter if it dropped.
The moon cradled in the clouds, surrounded by starry ornaments. Laura stepped along the side of a farm, where the toothed shadow of an animal stalked about. One of the neighbor's alpacas would surely disappear that night. The grass that cushioned her soles gave way to dirt, fine and smooth, like sand and dust combined.
"Laura?" someone called.
She didn't dare turn around, yet the voice was clearly familiar. Behind her, a boy approached with timid steps, imitating a mouse. "Laura?" he asked again.
"Hi, Terin," she said.
"Hi." The black-haired child suddenly sounded confident. "I almost couldn't recognize you. I've never seen you in a white shirt before."
"Oh." Her shirt was supposed to be green, but she was reluctant to say.
After a pause, Terin rushed to add, "Not like that's bad or anything." He tilted his head. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you at all since the festival started."
She shrugged.
Her friend walked closer, but Laura quickly retreated, unwilling to let him near. "Are you okay?" Terin questioned carefully. "You don't look so good. And your arm looks kinda blue. Did you put it in the lake or something?" He took a moment to laugh.
Laura wished he wasn't so curious. "I'm going back home," she murmured.
"Aw, but the festival doesn't end until midnight! Why can't you stay?" Despite her efforts, the boy couldn't help but persist.
What should Laura do?
a) Slug him. Ahaha, no, that would be mean. Tell him the truth.
b) Make up an excuse - her mom made her.
c) Make up an excuse - she got too cold to stay outside.
d) Make up an excuse - she doesn't want to stay up late this time.
Update: The chosen option was (d).
N E X T
Spoiler
"I...I don't..." Laura stammered, begging to be excused. "I don't want to stay up late. I'm kind of tired."
He laughed it off, like a joke rather than a lie. "That's silly. You can go for days without sleeping, I've seen it. Come on, let's go play with the others." His small, delicate hands reached out for hers.
All he touched was ice.
When the boy pulled back, his fingers were crackled and white, like crystals packed in the snow. Beautiful horror. She was caught in a trance, staring, gazing at them with a mind cold and blurred. The silence that fell then was like the darkest night without a moon.
Until Terin looked up at her, speechless, yet his eyes broke the silence with a thousand screaming questions. Now he was lost, just like her.
Laura shoved him aside and ran into her house, clutching the arm that held the egg. She did not want to look at the egg, she did not want to look at her hand, she did not want to look at him, she did not want to look at anybody or anywhere. The panels of the floor trembled as the child tottered on the stairs like a drunkard.
The little girl breathed and breathed and breathed, but each puff of air seared her lungs. Her room was shabby and dark, for light rarely graced her presence, yet today she flung the egg onto her blankets and pulled the curtains free. The fabric brushed across her face and scattered the tears. At last, as the fireworks lit up the sky and the stars flared, she sat down on the hard wood and looked down at herself.
Her shirt was turned to ice. With a wavering left hand, Laura took hold of her sleeve and, with a light touch, crushed it into flakes.
Then, she raised her right hand and turned it in the air, watching as it glittered with the lights of the outdoors. It refused to move, caught in the posture of the egg's cradle.
But the worst part was that she could see
right
through
it.
With a strangled sob, Laura put her head against the floor, mourning for a hand that had once been hers.
He laughed it off, like a joke rather than a lie. "That's silly. You can go for days without sleeping, I've seen it. Come on, let's go play with the others." His small, delicate hands reached out for hers.
All he touched was ice.
When the boy pulled back, his fingers were crackled and white, like crystals packed in the snow. Beautiful horror. She was caught in a trance, staring, gazing at them with a mind cold and blurred. The silence that fell then was like the darkest night without a moon.
Until Terin looked up at her, speechless, yet his eyes broke the silence with a thousand screaming questions. Now he was lost, just like her.
Laura shoved him aside and ran into her house, clutching the arm that held the egg. She did not want to look at the egg, she did not want to look at her hand, she did not want to look at him, she did not want to look at anybody or anywhere. The panels of the floor trembled as the child tottered on the stairs like a drunkard.
The little girl breathed and breathed and breathed, but each puff of air seared her lungs. Her room was shabby and dark, for light rarely graced her presence, yet today she flung the egg onto her blankets and pulled the curtains free. The fabric brushed across her face and scattered the tears. At last, as the fireworks lit up the sky and the stars flared, she sat down on the hard wood and looked down at herself.
Her shirt was turned to ice. With a wavering left hand, Laura took hold of her sleeve and, with a light touch, crushed it into flakes.
Then, she raised her right hand and turned it in the air, watching as it glittered with the lights of the outdoors. It refused to move, caught in the posture of the egg's cradle.
But the worst part was that she could see
right
through
it.
With a strangled sob, Laura put her head against the floor, mourning for a hand that had once been hers.
What should Laura do?
a) Break her hand off
b) Leave it as it is
Update: The chosen option was (b).
N E X T
Spoiler
She never wanted this. She never asked for this.
The icy cast that embraced her arm, studded with tears, swallowed the soul from within her. She turned away with lidded eyes; her will collapsed into ashes. The girl thought of screaming, shrieking, pounding the cold clear thing against the walls until it disappeared into shards, driven by the purest form of fear...Yet she couldn't, for the sea she drowned in was not filled with terror...but despair.
Her mother had taught her despair, and reminded her of it daily, but this...this was, perhaps, its truest, deepest form. For the first time, Laura wished she was dead. The very insanity of that thought gave her solace.
The child curled up on the splintery floor and moaned, horrified by herself, until the pitiful sounds were swept into silence. Her hand's sleek sheen caught the smattering of fireworks above. The shadows on her face were set alight with gold, blue, and green.
As the last trickle of tears fell, Laura buried her head in her knees. She closed her eyes and took her first steady breath. The egg that had fallen from her grasp lay on her bed, wrapped in crystallized sheets. It's dark spikes glinted.
She peeked at it with a sunken eye.
Hello, it whispered. You didn't forget me.
"No," the girl breathed, then clutched her head with blurred fingers. Nobody was talking. Nobody was talking. Nobody was talking.
Of course you didn't. Did you forget him, then?
"No." Laura's words hissed through clenched teeth. "Never."
The egg was satisfied. Good. Very good, it said. Don't give up now.
A final tear slid down her cheek. "Okay," she whimpered. Be quiet. Please, please, be quiet.
Then the voice fell silent, and so did she.
...
A white flare wrapped around the void.
Slender ice statues, blooming under the sun.
She looked behind her and saw golden eyes, piercing her own. Her skin flaked away to reveal water, wrathful water, that swirled forth into nothing.
The golden eyes merged into one.
Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me you. Give me you. Give me you. Give me you. Give me you.
She screamed.
The icy cast that embraced her arm, studded with tears, swallowed the soul from within her. She turned away with lidded eyes; her will collapsed into ashes. The girl thought of screaming, shrieking, pounding the cold clear thing against the walls until it disappeared into shards, driven by the purest form of fear...Yet she couldn't, for the sea she drowned in was not filled with terror...but despair.
Her mother had taught her despair, and reminded her of it daily, but this...this was, perhaps, its truest, deepest form. For the first time, Laura wished she was dead. The very insanity of that thought gave her solace.
The child curled up on the splintery floor and moaned, horrified by herself, until the pitiful sounds were swept into silence. Her hand's sleek sheen caught the smattering of fireworks above. The shadows on her face were set alight with gold, blue, and green.
As the last trickle of tears fell, Laura buried her head in her knees. She closed her eyes and took her first steady breath. The egg that had fallen from her grasp lay on her bed, wrapped in crystallized sheets. It's dark spikes glinted.
She peeked at it with a sunken eye.
Hello, it whispered. You didn't forget me.
"No," the girl breathed, then clutched her head with blurred fingers. Nobody was talking. Nobody was talking. Nobody was talking.
Of course you didn't. Did you forget him, then?
"No." Laura's words hissed through clenched teeth. "Never."
The egg was satisfied. Good. Very good, it said. Don't give up now.
A final tear slid down her cheek. "Okay," she whimpered. Be quiet. Please, please, be quiet.
Then the voice fell silent, and so did she.
...
A white flare wrapped around the void.
Slender ice statues, blooming under the sun.
She looked behind her and saw golden eyes, piercing her own. Her skin flaked away to reveal water, wrathful water, that swirled forth into nothing.
The golden eyes merged into one.
Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me heaven. Give me you. Give me you. Give me you. Give me you. Give me you.
She screamed.
What should Laura do?
a) WAKE UP
b) KEEP DREAMING
Update: The chosen option was (b).
N E X T
Spoiler
There was nothing. Nothing at all. No color, no life, nor sound. No heaven. She wanted to close her eyes, yet she had none to close.
Her essence spread across the absence and origin of all.
And then, suddenly, the pressure around her neck coiled into a noose, and air rushed into her lungs. She was pulled up, up, higher, highest, until the nothing burst free from her soul and she could see the sky again, a vast land of everblue -
...
"Wake up!" A harsh voice spat. Laura gasped, choked, her body writhing across the floor. Her hands reached up instinctively, searching for the thick nails biting into her neck. She gazed upward and saw the familial face of a woman. Her mother.
She jerked up at the sight and coughed violently, recalling last night's events. The blood that rushed into her head nearly made her fall again.
"You're a complete mess," her guardian said, releasing her grip. The little girl sat up with her frozen hand hidden carefully beneath her thighs. She coughed once more, fixed her expression, and straightened her back, trying to look recovered. It was a half-baked attempt, and her mother saw it. She folded her arms and looked her up and down.
Laura flinched, preparing for the worst.
"Your shirt is ragged and covered with dirt," the woman began. "Your hair is filthy and so is the room, thanks to that open window. It's even colder than last eve in here." She kicked her daughter's hand with a pointed shoe. "Whatever you did last night with the other children, it will most certainly not go unpunished. And that sleeve of your shirt is tattered. You look absolutely unruly and foolish."
With a trembling heart, Laura nodded. She didn't dare rub the new bruise painted across her fingers.
Her mother turned around with a contemptuous glance. "No breakfast or lunch for you, since you slept in anyway. And get that rock off your bed. I don't plan on washing those sheets again." She walked down the stairs, her elegant tail of hair waving behind her.
The girl flashed a look at her bed covers. Not once had they ever been cleaned, yet the icy layers gave the illusion of pristine condition. Luckily, the sun's rays left the egg in the shadows; it looked like a mottled old stone from afar, despite the spikes and scales.
"There's a list of your chores on the table downstairs," the woman continued, her voice fading slowly. "as well as some gold. And remember, if you use it for your own selfish little whims..."
"...There won't be any dinner for you tonight," Laura murmured under her breath. Somewhere below, the front door swung open and slammed shut.
She stood and looked around, lost in the stupor of yesterday's luminous turmoil. Sunlight dappled her room's frigid walls and cut her eyes with vivid gold. Her mind recoiled from the glow. Shielding her eyes with her hand of glaze, she reached over and pulled the curtains closed.
Good morning, the egg said from behind.
"Didn't...didn't forget you," she mumbled, taking heavy steps towards her dresser. Its contents were sparse and dull; several wool sweaters for the winter and a few plain shirts. The bottom drawers held a longer pair of leathery pants. She tossed the thickest top over her shoulder and carefully removed her frozen shirt, shivering as the chips of fabric traced her shoulders.
I never doubted it.
Her crystal hand nudged the corner of the dresser. Laura whipped around, startled, just in time to see the pine swallowed by frost, as if angel dust had fallen onto the edge. She swallowed and winced as the saliva burned her throat.
Her hand was a strange sight in the daylight; almost like a mirage, although the girl remembered the chills and knew better. It was a perfect sculpture of glacial craft, smooth as glass, alluringly translucent. All trace of bone, blood, or skin was lost in the traps of ice. The blue hues of the element began to fade at the wrist, swirling into white crisps, and then pulling back below the elbow to spare the rest of the limb. She stared at it with a faint mix of awe and fear.
Laura turned away and bit her lip. She couldn't go outside like this.
As the hints of an idea sprung forth, the girl took a cloth from the dresser and pressed it against the frozen corner of pine. The frost crackled, yet refused to envelop the fabric.
She took a deep breath and, with the steadiest fingers she could muster, wrapped the worn shirt around her hand - careful not to touch the ice itself. The shirt turned white immediately at the touch and froze in place.
Then, she took her other hand and pressed it against the frozen cloth. Her eyes closed, bracing for the chill that would spread across her blood-flowing fingers.
Nothing happened.
Laura breathed a sigh of relief. Her hand could freeze things, the egg could freeze things...and that was all. The objects they froze could not spread to others. With the white shirt wrapped around her hand, it would - hopefully - trick the villagers as a stiff, bandaged cast.
Before going down the stairs, she took hold of the egg and stuffed it in her pillowcase. Did you have any sweet dreams? it asked quietly.
Laura was already rushing to the kitchen on swift soles, not amenable enough to reply. As her mother had promised, a wrinkled white note lay on the table covered tip to tip in cursive lettering.
- Buy butter, watermelon, avocado, steak (no bone), wine at the market
- Clean the kitchen floor
- Sweep rooms upstairs except mine
- Pick up shipment at Remy's Inn
There were only four chores jotted down, but the last one sharpened her breath as she read. Remy's Inn was in another village; not far from the Keep, yet far enough to cause hindrance with the time. Her hopes of an afternoon meal plummeted as if thunderstruck.
Her essence spread across the absence and origin of all.
And then, suddenly, the pressure around her neck coiled into a noose, and air rushed into her lungs. She was pulled up, up, higher, highest, until the nothing burst free from her soul and she could see the sky again, a vast land of everblue -
...
"Wake up!" A harsh voice spat. Laura gasped, choked, her body writhing across the floor. Her hands reached up instinctively, searching for the thick nails biting into her neck. She gazed upward and saw the familial face of a woman. Her mother.
She jerked up at the sight and coughed violently, recalling last night's events. The blood that rushed into her head nearly made her fall again.
"You're a complete mess," her guardian said, releasing her grip. The little girl sat up with her frozen hand hidden carefully beneath her thighs. She coughed once more, fixed her expression, and straightened her back, trying to look recovered. It was a half-baked attempt, and her mother saw it. She folded her arms and looked her up and down.
Laura flinched, preparing for the worst.
"Your shirt is ragged and covered with dirt," the woman began. "Your hair is filthy and so is the room, thanks to that open window. It's even colder than last eve in here." She kicked her daughter's hand with a pointed shoe. "Whatever you did last night with the other children, it will most certainly not go unpunished. And that sleeve of your shirt is tattered. You look absolutely unruly and foolish."
With a trembling heart, Laura nodded. She didn't dare rub the new bruise painted across her fingers.
Her mother turned around with a contemptuous glance. "No breakfast or lunch for you, since you slept in anyway. And get that rock off your bed. I don't plan on washing those sheets again." She walked down the stairs, her elegant tail of hair waving behind her.
The girl flashed a look at her bed covers. Not once had they ever been cleaned, yet the icy layers gave the illusion of pristine condition. Luckily, the sun's rays left the egg in the shadows; it looked like a mottled old stone from afar, despite the spikes and scales.
"There's a list of your chores on the table downstairs," the woman continued, her voice fading slowly. "as well as some gold. And remember, if you use it for your own selfish little whims..."
"...There won't be any dinner for you tonight," Laura murmured under her breath. Somewhere below, the front door swung open and slammed shut.
She stood and looked around, lost in the stupor of yesterday's luminous turmoil. Sunlight dappled her room's frigid walls and cut her eyes with vivid gold. Her mind recoiled from the glow. Shielding her eyes with her hand of glaze, she reached over and pulled the curtains closed.
Good morning, the egg said from behind.
"Didn't...didn't forget you," she mumbled, taking heavy steps towards her dresser. Its contents were sparse and dull; several wool sweaters for the winter and a few plain shirts. The bottom drawers held a longer pair of leathery pants. She tossed the thickest top over her shoulder and carefully removed her frozen shirt, shivering as the chips of fabric traced her shoulders.
I never doubted it.
Her crystal hand nudged the corner of the dresser. Laura whipped around, startled, just in time to see the pine swallowed by frost, as if angel dust had fallen onto the edge. She swallowed and winced as the saliva burned her throat.
Her hand was a strange sight in the daylight; almost like a mirage, although the girl remembered the chills and knew better. It was a perfect sculpture of glacial craft, smooth as glass, alluringly translucent. All trace of bone, blood, or skin was lost in the traps of ice. The blue hues of the element began to fade at the wrist, swirling into white crisps, and then pulling back below the elbow to spare the rest of the limb. She stared at it with a faint mix of awe and fear.
Laura turned away and bit her lip. She couldn't go outside like this.
As the hints of an idea sprung forth, the girl took a cloth from the dresser and pressed it against the frozen corner of pine. The frost crackled, yet refused to envelop the fabric.
She took a deep breath and, with the steadiest fingers she could muster, wrapped the worn shirt around her hand - careful not to touch the ice itself. The shirt turned white immediately at the touch and froze in place.
Then, she took her other hand and pressed it against the frozen cloth. Her eyes closed, bracing for the chill that would spread across her blood-flowing fingers.
Nothing happened.
Laura breathed a sigh of relief. Her hand could freeze things, the egg could freeze things...and that was all. The objects they froze could not spread to others. With the white shirt wrapped around her hand, it would - hopefully - trick the villagers as a stiff, bandaged cast.
Before going down the stairs, she took hold of the egg and stuffed it in her pillowcase. Did you have any sweet dreams? it asked quietly.
Laura was already rushing to the kitchen on swift soles, not amenable enough to reply. As her mother had promised, a wrinkled white note lay on the table covered tip to tip in cursive lettering.
- Buy butter, watermelon, avocado, steak (no bone), wine at the market
- Clean the kitchen floor
- Sweep rooms upstairs except mine
- Pick up shipment at Remy's Inn
There were only four chores jotted down, but the last one sharpened her breath as she read. Remy's Inn was in another village; not far from the Keep, yet far enough to cause hindrance with the time. Her hopes of an afternoon meal plummeted as if thunderstruck.
What should Laura complete first?
a) Buy butter, watermelon, avocado, steak (no bone), wine at the market
b) Clean the kitchen floor
c) Sweep rooms upstairs except mine
d) Pick up shipment at Remy's Inn
Post below!
I choose A!
