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06 April 2012 @ 10:35 pm
Synara Ficlet  
My almost 4yo daughter 'wrote' her first fanfic today (in the Scooby Doo fandom). I am such a proud Mamma!

On to my fic...

Title: The Rite
Word Count: 330
Rating: T
Original/Fandom: Original (Synara-verse)
Characters/Pairings: Synara, Jase
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/RPF etc): character death
Summary: Synara performs her brother's Ceremony of Return. Takes place immediately after Returns.
Notes: Written for a challenge at writerverse. Line to include: Soon, Niamh could see nothing more of her sister through the mist. (names and relations changed to fit the story).



The Rite


Synara looked at Jase’s body, so pale and still. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her brother still; he was always in motion, even when casting spells requiring the utmost concentration. She had folded his hands, so cold, across his chest and surrounded him with flowers and leaves.

She felt the air around her. It was almost time; dawn was near. She stood and began circling the body, murmuring words both familiar and foreign to her. As a child, she had attended the Ceremony of Return a handful of times. She had never performed the rite herself. But it had been Jase’s dying wish that she try to do this.

As the first light of the sun tinged the horizon a rosy orange, she stopped and focused her will. After years spent in the City, it was almost a surprise to her as the first of the leaves began to smolder. The heat turned to sparks turned to flames, which spread quickly, releasing an earthy scent into the air. The smoke combined with the morning mist and began to swirl more and more quickly creating a funnel-like effect.

In the center, she saw a luminescence above Jase’s body. It hovered there for a minute before shooting down, through his chest, straight into the ground. Synara closed her eyes in grief; yet also in gratitude that his spirit had not been so damaged by the Tech poison that he would be forever stuck here.

The smoke thickened, curling inward on itself. Soon, Synara could see nothing more of her brother through the mist. She resumed her steps, circling in the opposite direction, as she forced the final incantations through the tightness in her throat.

The ritual was now complete. No longer needing to be strong, she fell to her knees in the dew-laden grass as she finally allowed her grief its due. She turned her tear-streaked face up to face the dawn, feeling more alone than she had ever been.


 
 
 
Lyear_anda_day on April 8th, 2012 02:13 am (UTC)
Aw so sad! :(

I love the contrast of stillness and motion you use in the first paragraph. That her brother had used magic and she performs a ritual for him is another nice parallel.

At the end, I think you might want to cut some for a more powerful ending. The image of a tear-streaked face borders on cliche, and I think what you really want to be your focal sentence at the end there is how alone she is now. Something like...

The ritual now complete, she no longer needed to be strong. She watched the first of many dawns she would face alone. - or some such. Just a thought!

Overall a great piece and characters you can really care about.
magickmoons: kawooshmagickmoons on April 8th, 2012 01:01 pm (UTC)
Thanks for the feedback! I wasn't really happy with the flow of the ending either. I'll go back and look at it again when I have a minute!