Log in

No account? Create an account
05 April 2012 @ 09:41 am
Fic: Sudden Storm (Original)  
Title: Sudden Storm
Word Count: 777
Rating: T
Original/Fandom: Original (Synara-verse)
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): bullying
Summary: Synara's first encounter with a Tech is marred by her brother.
Notes: Written for Random Madness challenge at writerverse: Open to page 87 of a novel and read the first full sentence. Write a story/poem/scene based on that sentence. The sentence doesn't have to be *in the story* but bonus points if it is! (it's okay to change names/pronouns)
My sentence (from The Undomestic Goddess, by Sophie Kinsella): I follow her into the room and over to the fireplace. (included in bold in the story)

Sudden Storm

A knock on the door interrupts Mara’s quiet afternoon of reflection. She pushed out of her chair and peers through the window to see a small figure huddled in front of the door, closely wrapped in a green cloak. The early dusk brought on by the sudden storm makes it difficult to determine who her visitor is. Mara opens the door cautiously and sees Synara, wet hair plastered to her face under her hood, shivering and looking more miserable than could be attributed to the rain.

“Come in, dear,” she says, closing the door behind them. Mara looks at the child in front of her; out of the rain, it is immediately obvious that she is crying. She smiles gently at the girl as she leads her to the common room. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

Synara follows her into the room and over to the fireplace. Mara helps her out of the cloak and wraps a soft blanket around her shoulders as she settles in front of the hearth. Synara breathes deeply, inhaling the familiar and calming scents of Mara’s herbs as they boil in a pot over the fire.

Mara takes her seat again, rocking slowly, and says, “Tell me, child.”

Permission given, the story begins pouring out of her mouth, her words stuttering as they tumble over each other. She tells Mara about playing among the trees with Jase, about hearing the car winding down the old road. She had only seen a car once before and begged her big brother to go with her so she could get a closer look. She speaks with wonder about the great metal behemoth and even more awe when she describes the family that emerged from it.

Mara knows that Tech families still occasionally venture out into the countryside, although it is considered an eccentricity that is barely tolerated in polite society. In her experience, no good has ever come of it, in any society. She becomes more and more tense as she listens to Synara’s recounting of the family picnic, the girl speaking loudly and quickly and refusing to meet her eyes. It is when Syn mentions the little boy wandering away from the family picnic that she interrupts.

“Did he hurt you?”

Synara’s eyes meet hers briefly, shock and confusion playing in the reflections from the firelight. She shakes her head vehemently, but starts to tear up again.

“It was Jase,” she whispers. “The boy, Henry, he said his name was, he saw us and tried to talk to us. But Jase just started casting. At first, it was just little stuff, like making the leaves fall over him. But then, he started doing spells I’ve never heard before and Henry was crying like he was really hurting. Jase chased him almost all the way to his parents.” Her lower lip quivers. “And then he yelled at me when I told him he was being bad. So I ran away from him, but then it was raining and I got all turned around and...”

Mara sighs. No wonder the rain had come so suddenly; the boy really should have behaved more responsibly. She wonders what to tell the disconsolate Synara, how to explain the fallout from a war that has hurt the girl more deeply than she realizes. Jase must have been Syn’s age when they buried their father, old enough to hear the explanations and the blame, too young to know how to deal with that information. And he has just gotten worse since then.

“Your brother is a very angry young man,” she began.

“It still wasn’t right!” Synara’s voice echoes loudly through the room as her face glows with the black and white conviction of a nine-year-old. “Henry just wanted to be friends!”

Mara bites her tongue against her automatic retort that no Tech can be their friend. Let the child have her utopian vision for now; it will be destroyed soon enough, just as had happened to Jase. Instead, she rises from her chair and lays a hand on Synara’s still damp hair.

“Rest, child. I’ll send word to your mother that she needn’t worry about you tonight.” She feels the quick flash of guilt from Synara which just as quickly turns to relief at not having to face her brother again tonight.

Synara nods and watches Mara leave the room. She spreads the blanket out along the floor and stretches out on it. Her eyes drift shut with the comforting heat of the fire and the rhythmic sound of raindrops against the windowpane; she can almost forget the sound of Henry crying and the look of triumph on Jase’s face.

Ami Ven: Team Proseami_ven on April 15th, 2012 05:00 am (UTC)
Very nice! I love the world you've created with this.
magickmoons: My Prose Iconmagickmoons on April 15th, 2012 07:26 pm (UTC)
Thanks! It's been a really good exercise using some of these challenges to flesh out the details.