Outcast

“It’s been so long,” she whispered as she looked out over the sleeping city before her.

Star wanted to see her sister, wanted to view her happiness with her own eyes.

But…

“You cannot seek her out, not even should you stumble upon where she lives. You must do everything you can to avoid her.”

She knew that being able to see her sister would not fix what she had done. It wouldn’t matter that Star had done it to save her sister, to give Comet a chance at more than a little room with padded walls and eternal suppression cuffs. She had still cut her sister off from the only people she had ever known. She had sealed any and all abilities that they had been born with and had cast her out of the Fold.

“No, I did more than that.” A tear streaked down her cheek as she turned away from the city sprawled out in front of her.

She looked back at the mountain range behind her. She was standing on one of the ledges that had a perfect view over most of the city before her. The sky had long since gone dark, but no stars remained view-able due to the light pollution emanating from the city below. Star didn’t know the name of the city, didn’t even really know where it was located on this world. It was up in the mountains, but close enough to some kind of delta or bay to have access to one of the oceans.

Star couldn’t take the time to find out the geography of every world she would go through. She would never have the time needed to complete her task if she did.

With a heavy heart, she leaped off the ledge she’d been standing on and up into the air, darting over the mountains and away from the city that she could feel the barest brush of her sister’s soul within.

“You don’t understand what you are doing, Star,” her Queen spoke softly, gently, “but one day you will.”


Written for last Friday’s FreeWriteFriday: http://kellieelmore.com/2014/03/14/fwf-free-write-friday-ponder-this-3/

It’s been a while since I’ve been able to write for this prompt and I missed it dearly.

Relative Perspective

It was some time before she was even aware of the concept of time. Most of her days went something like this:

She woke up, she couldn’t tell when it was, but there was always someone who entered with a bowl of broth soon afterwards. She would eat as much as she could before she’d fall asleep again.

She’d wake up sometime latter to have a small repeat.

Sometimes when she wakes, the man who found her is there; sometimes he’s not. There doesn’t seem to be any pattern to it and she doesn’t think much to try and find one. She’s too tired for that.

(Why is she so tired?)

Eventually, she notices that she has several different things attached to her person, but for the life of her she can’t remember what they are or what purpose they serve.

She doesn’t have it in her to do more than stare at them before she’s fallen asleep once more.

They’re still there when she wakes and after a moment of trying to remove one, she’s stopped by the man who’d found her and. presumably, brought her here.

“Leave them,” he speaks in a quiet voice that is very deep, but his touch is gentle, “you are still recovering.”

She falls asleep again before he can say anything else.

The next time she wakes, she ignores the things and eats her broth without any extra movements other than her eyes following the movements of the woman spoon feeding her the soup. She’s too tired for anything else.

By the time she’s strong enough to feed herself, there’s some kind of bread in the broth as well. She doesn’t bother with wiping up every time she spills as she’s too busy being grateful she can lift the spoon to her mouth without aid. The spoon is unsteady and she suspects that the bread is partially there so that there is less liquid to drip on herself.

This time, there is a smile of satisfaction on her lips as she falls asleep once more.


He’s not quite sure what to think of the young woman on the bed before him.

She is a pale thing, all red hair and dark eyes and thin cheeks. She seems wasted, as if she’d had an illness and had only recently been cured from it, only to face her body after the ordeal.

He wonders, not for the first time, where she has come from and how she came to be in the alley that he’d found her near. She doesn’t seem to be the kind of woman or even man that would frequent such an area and her body shows no signs of drugs or abduction. She isn’t malnourished and though she is thin and pale and wasted looking, she is otherwise healthy.

Alexander feels a buzzing in his pocket and withdraws a beeper. He hadn’t brought his phone in with him, hadn’t wanted to chance it messing with the equipment or going off when she was awake and startling her.

(She had been so curious about the wires and leads and didn’t seem to understand what they were for.)

He sighs at the code and, with a nod to the nurse outside the room, leaves the wing she’s being kept in. He stops at the end to retrieve his phone and his tablet.

At first he hadn’t been certain why he’d felt the need to talk her with him and have his own doctors look after her. Even when the reports of her physical condition were given he hadn’t known why. Alexander was a businessman, and he does give generously to charities as well as other organizations. He does not bring people in need home with him, no matter what the tabloids say.

He still does not know why she is here, yet he makes no move to send her away, though in her state, it would be very easy to do so.

She has been there for half a year already, but her physical improvement is slower than initially projected by his doctors. No one knows why.

He doesn’t even know her name.


Written for this week’s Daily Post’s weekly writing challenge: https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/10/weekly-writing-challenge-golden-years/

I’m not entirely sure why it didn’t mention much about age and only about how time is relative to different people due to perspective, but it would only be written like this.

Longshot

When they first realized she was pregnant, they weren’t sure what to think.

It hadn’t been several months when she realized something was wrong. Shew as hungry for things that she’d never wanted before and when she checked her calendar, she realized that it had been several months since she’d had a monthly. That alone wasn’t enough to clue them in, though. She’d never had a regular monthly, she’d sometimes go a third of the year before she’d have one. The fact that she was hungry and then she started having problems with her feet as well as never having enough sleep had shown her husband that something was wrong.

Warren had insisted that she go see a doctor. Her health was important and the fact that she was having symptoms that she’d only had before she’d met him (before she’d come to his world) made him worry. She wasn’t the kind who got sick, she was never tired and she didn’t eat more than she needed because she did not feel hunger the same way that he did.

“Warren, I don’t need to see a doctor, this will-”

“Mary, you don’t get sick. You told me that the last time you couldn’t explain your body reacting like this was before you emigrated.”

Mary said nothing, just looked away from her husband in silence for several long minutes. (She was silent for 20 whole minutes, Warren counted, but he waited in silence with her.)

“All right,” she whispered into his shoulder finally, “All right, I’ll go see someone.”

When they got the results back that she was pregnant, they kind of just stared at one another in confusion.

Warren was sterile. There was no way that the child was his, but it was physically impossible for Mary to have anyone else’s child. She literally could not get pregnant by anyone other than her Bonded, which was Warren.

How did she come to be with child?

“Whatever happens, Mary,” Warren assured his wife that night, “We will get through this, because that’s what we do.”


Written for today’s Daily Post prompt: https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/04/daily-prompt-against-all-odds/

Not Wanted

The funeral had been hard to sit through. Her sons were angry and sad and didn’t know just how much he was missed.

Mary sighed as her eldest slammed the door behind him.

This isn’t what I meant.


Written for this week’s Trifextra challenge: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2014/02/trifextra-week-103.html

A little interlude somewhere in the Former Guardian story after her estranged husband dies.

Safety in Death?

The ritual had worked, Comet was far from here and safe. Safe for the first time since long before the War had started. Their enemies would never find Star’s sister, not without Star or the Queen actively helping them and even then it was a long shot.

“Star, she is safe.”

Star nodded and bowed her head as her queen smiled tiredly at her before leaving the room.

She did not respond to anyone else as they spoke quietly both to her and around her before they, too, left for a well-deserved rest. The ritual they had used to both heal her sister and to send her away (because in order to heal her, they’d had to block her connections to those still here, and the only way to do that had been to send her away) had been a success.

Soon, Star was the only one left in the room. She didn’t bother looking around the room, just walked slowly towards the center where a cot had been placed. The cot was still warm from when her sister had been under the blankets and Star knelt by the cot and placed her hands in the blankets. She clutched them to her face and bowed her head. Silent tears began to soak into the fabric as her slender shoulders shook with the weight of her sobs.

She couldn’t feel her sister in her mind, in her very soul, anymore.

It was like she was dead in the worst possible way.

After all, even when their Queen had been dead, before she’d been brought back by the power of the Lunar Healing Crystal, they had still felt her presence within their hearts.

There wasn’t even that to indicate that Comet had ever existed. No torn threads, no aching apology for leaving them behind. Just…nothing…


Written for this week’s Dungeon Prompt: http://theseekersdungeon.com/2014/02/20/dungeon-prompts-season-2-week-8-when-did-death-become-real-for-you/

Lucky Stars?

“Star, I don’t think this is going to work!”

The arguments had been going on for well over a solar hour. It was driving her nuts and not in a helpful way.

“We need to halt their advance and unless you can come up with something else or find some way to get us reinforcements that don’t actually exist, this is what we’re stuck with!”

She had tried keeping her cool, keeping her voice calm and her face from eventually growing red in anger, but none of her normal emotional controls seemed to be working. And she didn’t have a clue as to why.

She didn’t really have the time to sit and meditate and try to find an answer for why, she just had to do what she always did. Power through the obstacles that she didn’t know existed and hope that the center would hold. That her center would hold.

(She didn’t know that the center had already shattered into a million little pieces. There was no way she would fully know that until she received the message from her Queen or found the time and energy to do an in-depth meditation cycle.

It would likely not come up until the current battle was complete.)

“I’m telling you that this is a suicidal charge!” her companion retorted, “There is little to no chance of survival just dropping down into the middle of them and unleashing everything you have. You’ll burn out before they’re all gone and we’ll be down another fighter!”

She grimaced at him as she’d long lost her ability to smile about anything in this was. “As long as a single star burns in the sky, then I shall not burn out. I may throw myself out of a firm grip on reality, but I will survive.”

“That still-”

“I will not allow them to hold this sector!” she interrupted hotly, “I will not allow them one step further into our territory! I can stop their advance, it will come at a cost, but not one that will harm us in either the long-term or the short-term at this point.”

She drew in a deep breath, but did not apologize as she turned away and looked towards where the sun was setting.

“I will stop them and we will have the time needed to make contact with Control.”

No one said anything as she continued to walk away from the small command structure they’d somehow cobbled together and out into the area around them. The stars peaked out from where they had hidden during the day and a halo of energy gathered around Star.

(This fight would be more costly than she knew.)


Written for the Daily Post’s prompt today even though it doesn’t actually use anything from the prompt but the name. When I started writing, I had meant to use the three wishes thing, but it didn’t play itself into the post. shrugs It got an idea going in my head at least.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/13/daily-prompt-lucky-star/

End of Service

Purpose…

What had her purpose been the last 50 years?

What had been her purpose for the hundreds of years before that?

Sometimes, it seemed like she really had no purpose anymore…

The last of the battles had been harder and yet easier at the same time. Everyone was tired of the fighting, of the death and of the inevitability of the losses that they would surely accumulate. Even in winning both sides would lose; too many had been lost to death and madness for it to be anything else. The only good part about winning this war would be that they would have more time to recuperate for the inevitable come back of their enemies.

They were always fighting, even after a thousand years of peace their enemy would return with a new face and new troops. The fighting would continue because as long as the light existed, so too would the dark. The only differences would be the faces of those fighting the Endless Battle and the scale on which they would be fighting.

“My Queen, her mind is too far gone to salvage.” a voice whispered over her head.

She disregarded it and continued to hum absently to herself as her fingers worked through the different parchment papers covered in wet paint. She continued to paint the different battles in splashes of color and the starbursts of light that conveyed the death of those she’d battled both alongside with and against.

“Is there nothing that can be done? Perhaps we should speak with the Lunar Healers?”

The healing aide shook his head, “I’m afraid that it would only delay the inevitable. There is nothing that can be done at this point.”

The Queen hummed sadly, “Star will not agree with you on that.”

“Star will need to be contacted as soon as she is within contacting range about what has happened. As Comet’s only living relative she will need to take responsibility for her sister. Whether or not she agrees with the prognosis there is nothing more that I nor my fellows can do, Your Majesty.”

The golden brown head bobbed in agreement, “I shall send the message myself. Comet fell in the defense of myself and my young heir and the both of them have been with me too long for me to not inform Star myself.”

Her purpose…

Her purpose was to protect…

…but protect who?


Written for this week’s Dungeon Prompt: http://theseekersdungeon.com/2014/02/06/dungeon-prompts-season-2-week-6-purpose-and-the-art-of-holding-back/#more-5403

I wasn’t certain if I should write this prompt from personal life or from the lives of one of my characters. As you can see, I ended up going with a character.

Sacrifice Acceptable

Picture from: http://foter.com/photo/or/

Study, work, never any rest. Oh for the days when sunlight was all I needed! Now I am mortal, fragile and perfect. There is a chance at life ahead of me. Sacrifice acceptable.


Written for this week’s Trifextra. I made sure that this week was a 33-word challenge. Last week I thought it was and it drove me mad only to discover I’d mixed things up! laughs

http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2014/01/trifextra-week-101.html

Forever Cold

She looked into the reflection before her.

Her eyes were hazy and yet there was a sharpness within them, though there were almost no defined boundaries around them.

Her hair was a streak of pale starlight that looked like it should be flowing down her back and cascading over her shoulders. Instead it was choppy around her face in uneven clumps. It wasn’t a very flattering hairstyle for her, but she didn’t care.

Her clothing was tarnished and torn, but it covered her and kept her from having too many people looking at her strangely. They had just assumed that she was another homeless person or a drug addict. They didn’t know who she was and as long as she didn’t brush up against them, they didn’t care where she was going.

Her shoes had holes in them and her gloves were missing their fingertips. She had no hat, scarf and no coat, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t cold.

No, that wasn’t completely true.

She was cold. She was always cold, but having any kind of warmer gear or garments would change that. She would always be cold.

She glanced down at the blurry reflection in the puddle below her.

Her other half was gone, she would never be warm again.

But that was all right, she told herself desperately. It was the only way. It had to be.

She wasn’t sure she could live with herself if she ever discovered that she had made things worse by sending the other half of her soul away.


Written for today’s Daily Post: https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/22/daily-prompt-mirrored/

Last Link

She looked down at the white envelope in her hands and turned it over once more. It was blank except for her sister’s name on the front an a simple line of words on the back.

Everything I could never tell you.

There was a letter inside, a letter that she had spent moments between preparing writing. This letter would likely be that last thing she could ever give her sister other than a chance for any kind of life. A letter that would be the last link between the two of them.

After today, Star would never see Comet again. She would never hear anything from her or about her. That was part of the price to pay.

“Are you ready?”

Star turned and met her Queen’s eyes and nodded with a solemn expression on her face. The letter was tendered over and the Queen took it without hesitation.

“Would you make sure that Comet…that she…” Star floundered with what to say.

She needn’t have worried. Her Queen already knew what lay within her heart in this matter.

“I will make certain of it. She shall receive this letter when she is able to read it and she will never lose it.”

“But her abilities will be sealed, how shall she keep it without fear of losing it?” Star asked even as she fell into step slightly behind her Queen.

There was a gentle smile, “Just because she cannot use them, not even subconsciously, does not mean that everything must be lost to her. She was born this way and nothing we can do will fully change that.”

They turned down a long hallway that ended in to a single audience chamber that held a few small circles of uniformed people. Men and women were in each circle, but the uniforms varied from the pant and shirt suit that Star herself wore to the skirt and shirt suit that some of the others wore. There was a lot of white in the coloring of those in skirts and a lot of black in those in pants.

In the middle of the circles was a young woman lying on the ground in hospital garb.

“It is time to begin.”


Written for this week’s FreeWriteFriday.

http://kellieelmore.com/2013/12/13/fwf-free-write-friday-image-prompt-13/