You have been taken by the Mists

Author Topic: Heart of Fire.  (Read 948 times)

urathraviel

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Heart of Fire.
« on: April 12, 2017, 09:18:08 AM »
Melina Linus Née Fallieres
Itova'ir Auvrea'arnith
Hero of Lamordia.
A.K.A.
Odelle Roux




Born on:21/11/752

Born in: Ste Ronges, Richemulot

Raised mostly in: Sturben, Borca.

« Last Edit: November 30, 2018, 06:19:45 PM by urathraviel »

urathraviel

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Re: Heart of Fire.
« Reply #1 on: April 12, 2017, 09:21:05 AM »
16/3/759, Sturben, Borca

Melina Fallieres is sat on the small inn cot, it wasn't much of a bed, but it was all that was provided by the inn at her parents asking. The faint noises of people passing and talking outside have long since ceased to be entertaining, the windows view is poor and she found herself immeasurably bored. There were, after all, only so many stories you could tell yourself about rich knights.

She gets up and, with the endless curiosity of a child, began to rummage through the contents of the room. Her search reveals four Falconeyes and a Falconclaw, currency of Falkovnia, tucked down the back of the bed. An old worn sock under the dresser, and an old die under the desk.

Some time is spent playing with the die, trying to juggle the coins, and eventually just throwing them about. But the insatiable curiosity of a child cannot be forever forestalled, and boredom creeps back in, much like the chill draft from under a door forbids you to forget winter is present.

The small girl is no stranger to boredom, but the new environment whispers incessantly with promises of new and exciting ways to entertain herself. Those whispers may be empty promises, but a child’s curiosity finds even the barest hint worth the time invested to exploring it.

And so curiosity finds her climbing onto the chair at the desk underneath of the window, it's a heavy oak thing, and pulling it out is hard work. The desk is covered with papers, a candle, and various writing supplies. She has been told not to touch any of the papers on the desk, so she must be very careful. They must go back exactly where they are, and most importantly, she must not damage any of them.

Most of the papers are in Balok, all words and no pictures, she doesn't know Balok too well, and so many of the words are complicated. She can see some Mordentish words on papers further down the pile though. Very gingerly she shifts the papers aside, glancing at them as she moves them, nothing interesting seems to catch her attention so she begins to put them back in order, irritation at her trapped boredom flaring.

Her eyes widen in fear as she feels the barest twitch of the insatiable pressure inside her, flexing and reaching. The paper under her fingers begins to change colour, going from beige to brown and finally black as it reaches flash point and ignites.

“Non, non, non, non. Not again, not now!” She babbles, batting at the smouldering papers with her hands, leaving little brown marks where she bats at them trying to put the flames out. When the flames are gone, the papers are a ruined mess. Ice runs down her spine. She should not have touched them, there will be so much trouble now.

She looks about the room, desperately searching for a solution to her mess. The idea of opening the window and claiming they blew out of it occurs and passes, there would still be trouble. She was the only one here and it would still land the blame on her, maybe she could hide the damage and knock the candle over later.

She frantically tries to arrange the papers so they hide the burnt marks on one another, folding and stacking them. The pile is recognisably different, and the smell of smoke lingers in the air. She hopes they won't look too closely, that the smell will fade, that the footsteps in the hall are for another room. She is wrong on all counts.

The door is opened and she spins around, pressing herself back against the desk as if she can somehow hide it behind her, an expression of terror on her face. “I can explain!” She exclaims desperately. Her father's expression gardens into cold fury as he smells the smoke and marches over to the desk. “It was an accident!” She cries, only to be shoved aside by him so he can see the ruined paperwork and her attempt to hide it all. He turns around, glaring at her and backhanding her, throwing her across the room.

“You stupid child!” He shouts at her, as her mother steps inside the room, meekly shutting the door behind her. Defeated disappointment leaks from her as she stands by the door, quietly staying out of the way. “Can't you do anything I tell you, you useless brat!”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!”

“Well that doesn't change anything now does it?! You've ruined everything!” She backs into the corner her cot is in and sits down on it crying silently. She has long since learnt to muffle the sounds, and after a while she stopped needing to. “Stupid child, don't you realise how much trouble you are?” He grumbles as he sifts through the ruined paperwork, her mother walks over to join him. Her posture is withdrawn and his is agitated as they talk quietly. She stays where she is, not moving, not making a sound. Eventually her mother leaves, returning some time later with some warmed milk.

“Drink this, no dinner tonight.”
Melina drinks the milk in one go, there'll be food in the morning and she can wait until then to eat. She's very sleepy, so she pulls the blanket over her head, and falls asleep quickly with unusual ease.

* * *

Some time later she wakes up, her eyes are dry and her mouth feels funny, she longs for something to drink. She rubs her eyes and tries to swallow, it's bright and she doesn't understand why she slept so long and still feels tired. She sits up and begins to notice absences in the room. At first it's not a big thing, coats and shoes missing as if they had left for the day. Then she starts to notice the bigger things, like the absence of travel cases, the absence of everything but her.

She screams as reality hits her, a sound of raw pain, disbelief, and loss. She screams and doesn't stop, a desperate hopeless sound even as she hopes to see them come through the door to yell at her to stop. The door doors open but instead of her parents, an incensed innkeeper barges in. He stares at her and she stops screaming to speak. “Where are my momma and papa?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Where are they?!” She cries desperately as he advances on her.

“Don't know, don't care, get out of here you free-loader urchin.” He grabs her arm roughly, yanking her to her feet and dragging her out. She screams again, babbling in-between the screams.

“Non, non, non, non, please! Don't throw me out, they'll be back!” She screams and kicks and struggles as he drags her to the door.

“Then they can pick you up from the doorstep!”
He snaps at her as he opens the door and throws her out.

“Non!”

urathraviel

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Re: Heart of Fire.
« Reply #2 on: November 30, 2018, 06:13:13 PM »
[Left on the desk where she currently stays lies the following tear stained mess of a letter, with no clear ending and no destination]
« Last Edit: December 01, 2018, 04:29:30 AM by urathraviel »