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Prelude posted 04 October 2004 in Member Written WorksPrelude by neongrey, Peralogue

Looking for thoughts on this, particular on the following notions:

Too much information with too little explanation?

Do you feel a need to immediately follow up with these characters, or if the plot started up following a different set of characters, would this be satisfying?

Anything else, as well, besides those immediate concerns.

Says I can't attach files, so, as it's fairly brief, I'll be posting it in a reply to this. view post


Prelude posted 04 October 2004 in Member Written WorksPrelude by neongrey, Peralogue

The rain was stopping and the sky was clearing. The stars were coming out, glimmering angels in the faintly-visible sky.

On a wide balcony, in a side-tower to the castle of Jesme, a man stood untouched by the remnants of the rain. The showers simply parted around him as he stared up at the sky, a glass in his hand.

He stood stock-still, never raising his drink to his lips, never brushing away the prematurely white strands of his bangs away from the corners of his eyes. The closest thing to any movements about him were the slow, deep breaths he was taking, sending his silken coat swishing about his legs, and an odd shimmer to the copper circle scribed dead-centre in his forehead that brightened as the parting raindrops fell to the ground.

The only light nearby was faint, coming from the rooms behind him, past a glass door leading off of the balcony.

As the clouds in the sky finally began to part, the last of the rain dripping to the ground, the man, the boy slowly raised his glass to his lips, draining it. And the coppery circle that was the only mark on his ghost-pale face went dark.

He lowered his hand, glass dangling loosely from his bare fingers. And was still for a few moments longer, before lifting his other hand, curling it for a moment to adjust the fingerless glove, before straightening the rose threaded through the buttonhole of his left lapel.

Behind him, the door opened.

He tilted his head forwards at the noise, loosely-tied tail of hair rising up his back, the tapered ends going so high as an inch or two below his shoulder-blades. He made no other move, made no other noise.

A few moments passed in silence, the door or behind finally falling shut with a faint 'click', before the man with the long white hair asked quietly, in a voice that reinforced his youth by its pitch, 'What is it, Frederich?'

The man known as Frederich padded silently further out onto the dampened balcony. He wet his lips after a few more moments of silence, before saying at last, 'Sir. You could set someone else to watching, sir. You don't have to be here.'

Sir lowered his head further, taking his gaze from the sky as a chuckle burbled over smiling lips. 'You're right. I don't have to do this. Should be in the warm with the rest of them, drinking hot wine and complaining about the weather on the southern coast, should I, then?'

Dirty brown bangs bounced in Frederich's eyes as he shook his head. 'Aaron, sir... you're just giving too much credit to that... that...'

Silence, as Frederich trailed off without finding an appropriate word. Aaron lifted his gaze, his eyes curiously bright blue in the faint light. His tone gently chiding, he said, 'To Lord Arian's secretary. To the... diviner. She has not been wrong yet. If she claims the coming of angels, Frederich, it is all our place to have our eyes upon the sky to see when they fall. If anyone claimed such a thing, I would watch. When she claims such a thing, I listen. So should we all.'

Frederich did at least look a bit abashed, for a moment or two before speakng again. 'Right or not, sir, I mistrust her. She makes me... uncomfortable.'

'Does she.' Aaron walked slowly over to a table at the back of the balcony, boots softly thumping against the ground. He set his glass down, then glanced up at the sky again. The sky had cleared and the moons were rising. 'She is not a comforting person, no.'

Mud-green eyes followed Aaron's path to the table, before Frederich slowly strode out to the railing. It only came up to his waist, but he was a tall man; the same marble construction would only reach Aaron's chest. 'I find her difficult to look at for any length of time, sir. And her voice is... not right. It doesn't sound... real.'

Silence. Then, the clink of glass on glass, and pouring liquid. The sound of another liquid being poured into the first. Aaron turned away from the table, now holding a glass full of a sickly green liquid, shimmering faintly in the dim light. He padded out to stand beside Frederich, resting his other hand on the railing, looking back up at the sky.

'And her eyes, sir... that's not natural. You can't even -see- them.'

The sky cleared a little more, leaving the stars twinkling brightly above, and the moons continued their ascent. 'They're in the middle of her face,' Aaron said, but he was more than half-mumbling.

Frederich quickly rocked back on his heels, then spun on them to face Aaron directly. 'Sir. My -Lord-. Aaron. You know, you -know- that's not what I mean. I know she doesn't sit any better with you than she does with me. You may be able to set aside whatever concerns you may have, but I -wish- you wouldn't do the same to mine. Sir...'

Slowly, Aaron turned with a soft swish of silk, eyes slowly gliding up Frederich's chest to meet his face. Huge blue eyes stared unblinkingly at muddy green. Expectantly. Waiting. Finally, Frederich broke the silence, finishing with, 'Sir, I trust you more than anything, but I can't stand it, being left in the dark like this. You've got to know that. Especially when it's got to do with those... fanatics.'

Silk swirled again as Aaron looked back up at the sky, but his eyes closed a moment or two afterwards. His voice was not more than a whisper as he said, '... an interesting sentiment from a knight in the service to the Holy Church.'

The air from Frederich's sigh was forceful enough to cause Aaron's long bangs to stir against his cheeks. 'Please don't play High Inquisitor with me, sir. There's a reason you don't have the job in the first place.'

Aaron's eyes flickered as he turned his attention back up to the sky. 'You trust me?'

'Yes.' The answer came without so much as a second's pause.

He did not ask anything such as 'how much?' or 'unconditionally?'. That, he felt, was implied by the question being asked in the first place. You did not need to ask, if someone trusted you enough to, say, feed their pet, or hold their keys. If trust at that degree was in question, then it was not present at all. 'Then trust me that I can't tell you why. Have faith, in me, if not in God.'

Frederich lifted his eyes to the heavens, searching for where Aaron had focused his eyes. 'Sir...'

'Trust me in this, Frederich,' Aaron said quietly, not turning his head from a fixed point in the sky. 'As you've never trusted me in anything before.'

A meteor shot through the sky. Aaron's eyes held fixed for a moment, before following the path of the streak of light. 'And... Frederich.'

You would have had to be looking in exactly the right place to see it, a split second before the meteor streaked downwards, towards the north and west. Aaron had been looking in exactly the right place. And after the meteor fell, after the star winked out of the sky before it, Aaron whispered, under his breath, an epithet that no gentleman had any right to say of a lady.

'Yes, sir?'

'Go to Lord Arian and his secretary. Inform them... Marina has fallen.' view post


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