Preface
Hello! After some minor debate as to which portion I should actually post, I decided to post a portion of backstory for one of my protagonists in my story, 44. If there's some sort of reaction, I'll likely post more.
Context of the story and character will be posted in the near future.
Hello! After some minor debate as to which portion I should actually post, I decided to post a portion of backstory for one of my protagonists in my story, 44. If there's some sort of reaction, I'll likely post more.
Context of the story and character will be posted in the near future.
Spoiler
Lilienne: a circle of fire
An intense, scorching heat engulfed her thin, wry body. It was uncomfortable, so unlike the feelings she was familiar with. Yet she knew it did not touch her, for the heat was not yet dancing on her skin. The heat died away, slowly but surely, and the cool night air washed over her once more. Though it was gone, she was still not at ease; it felt as if the heat was merely waiting in the distance, ready to engulf her once more.
Gently, she opened her eyes to the world; her large, glassy golden eyes reflected the rosy light of the fire flickering against the walls of their small home. An elven man was trying to douse the flames with water, but persistently the fire returned, searing the blackened patch and setting it on fire again as quickly as it had gone.
She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but only a high-pitched squeak came out. The woman holding her in her arms was bobbing up and down in an attempt to try and hush her strange sounds. Even so, she cried and cried, afraid; for both herself and the beautiful yet frail woman in front of her.
“Hush, Lilienne.” she murmured before humming a quiet melody which was heaven to the young girl’s ears. “Lilienne, oh Lilienne. When will you cease to make such a racket?” she paused and tapped the child's forehead. "You must learn to hum, like I. Learn to carry the name of Songbird and make your ancestors proud of who you are."
She tried to imitate the heavenly voice she had heard before. A string of disjointed notes filled the air, shaky and off tune. The melody just barely resembled the one that she had heard from the second she was born, but the woman laughed softly. Her voice was as elegant and melodic as the young elf’s voice was disjointed and rough.
"See? You have the very blood of the Songbirds flowing in your veins, my dear. Your fortune will be plentiful until the very end, Lilie-" she cut off with a scream as an explosion blew aside the man who was fending off the flames. The woman watched, frozen to the spot as her husband’s limp body was cast aside idly, as if he was a rag doll. A loud crash as he was thrown outside jolted her from her trance.
The woman shrieked, and began to plead with the cloaked figure striding to her in a foreign tongue. The figure merely laughed and struck her across the face, a daunting blow that sent her crashing to the ground. The girl in her arms dropped onto the floor and she looked into the face of her mother's attacker, curious.
He grunted- the girl had managed to cling onto his shoe- and picked her up by the back of the collar to toss her aside. Before her vision faltered, all Lilienne could remember was a distinct, sharp pain in her head.
The man, having rendered the inhabitants of the cottage unconscious, retrieved a scroll from his cloak. Holding it open, he smirked and read aloud, “The town of Elluel shall fall, under the rule of the Black Mage.” The necromancer sneered as he stowed the scroll safely under his cloak before raising his staff with a gnarled, pale hand. With his other hand, he had retrieved a scrap of paper, and he prepared to light it up.
A figure appeared as if out of thin air, his arm blocking the staff. "Hold it, Trav." the man had looked around, but turned to face the unconscious child before turning back to the necromancer. "Do you have any idea how rare and precious elven children can be, especially to the Black Mage?"
"Not at all." the necromancer grinned a toothless grin. "Can I blow up this here house now?"
"She is of Songbird descent," he noted, completely ignoring his question and turning the child over. "She would be invaluable to the Black Mage should she be trained appropriately." He lifted the small body over his shoulder without another word, turning to leave.
"Whatever, do what you please." he scoffed. "If you get into strife I won't be involved with it!"
“I somehow doubt that, Travis.” the man glared at the necromancer. “On the contrary, did they ever teach you to treat your superiors with respect?”
Travis, having realized who he was, hastily bowed and muttered an apology. “Didn’t realize… Won’t happen again…”
“I’ll keep your word for that.” he started to walk away. "Feel free to destroy the rest."
The necromancer’s expression twisted into a grin. Once the man was out of sight, he raised his staff again and began to chant in a low voice, letting the rune markings expand beyond the realms of the small scrap of paper. The markings crawled onto the walls, growing brighter before an explosion blasted the necromancer’s hood back.
The explosion was only deafened by the crash of wood and stone. The dust settled, and fire roared into the night. Lilienne was roused by the unsettling noise. After a moment of realizing what was going on, she began to wail and kick about, screaming. She screamed for her deceased parents. She screamed at the forest, withering under flame. The fire danced vibrantly around her; the black night and the vivid red twisting and twirling in a demented dance.
The strange man carrying her merely chuckled quietly to himself as he unfurled his wings. His cloak fell to the ground in shreds. The elf’s struggles ceased when he held a hand to her forehead, and he drew his scepter. The fire burned merrily as he slowly ascended into the sky, the winds fanning the flames. He paused for a moment to admire the burning town, then disappeared into the night.
An intense, scorching heat engulfed her thin, wry body. It was uncomfortable, so unlike the feelings she was familiar with. Yet she knew it did not touch her, for the heat was not yet dancing on her skin. The heat died away, slowly but surely, and the cool night air washed over her once more. Though it was gone, she was still not at ease; it felt as if the heat was merely waiting in the distance, ready to engulf her once more.
Gently, she opened her eyes to the world; her large, glassy golden eyes reflected the rosy light of the fire flickering against the walls of their small home. An elven man was trying to douse the flames with water, but persistently the fire returned, searing the blackened patch and setting it on fire again as quickly as it had gone.
She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but only a high-pitched squeak came out. The woman holding her in her arms was bobbing up and down in an attempt to try and hush her strange sounds. Even so, she cried and cried, afraid; for both herself and the beautiful yet frail woman in front of her.
“Hush, Lilienne.” she murmured before humming a quiet melody which was heaven to the young girl’s ears. “Lilienne, oh Lilienne. When will you cease to make such a racket?” she paused and tapped the child's forehead. "You must learn to hum, like I. Learn to carry the name of Songbird and make your ancestors proud of who you are."
She tried to imitate the heavenly voice she had heard before. A string of disjointed notes filled the air, shaky and off tune. The melody just barely resembled the one that she had heard from the second she was born, but the woman laughed softly. Her voice was as elegant and melodic as the young elf’s voice was disjointed and rough.
"See? You have the very blood of the Songbirds flowing in your veins, my dear. Your fortune will be plentiful until the very end, Lilie-" she cut off with a scream as an explosion blew aside the man who was fending off the flames. The woman watched, frozen to the spot as her husband’s limp body was cast aside idly, as if he was a rag doll. A loud crash as he was thrown outside jolted her from her trance.
The woman shrieked, and began to plead with the cloaked figure striding to her in a foreign tongue. The figure merely laughed and struck her across the face, a daunting blow that sent her crashing to the ground. The girl in her arms dropped onto the floor and she looked into the face of her mother's attacker, curious.
He grunted- the girl had managed to cling onto his shoe- and picked her up by the back of the collar to toss her aside. Before her vision faltered, all Lilienne could remember was a distinct, sharp pain in her head.
The man, having rendered the inhabitants of the cottage unconscious, retrieved a scroll from his cloak. Holding it open, he smirked and read aloud, “The town of Elluel shall fall, under the rule of the Black Mage.” The necromancer sneered as he stowed the scroll safely under his cloak before raising his staff with a gnarled, pale hand. With his other hand, he had retrieved a scrap of paper, and he prepared to light it up.
A figure appeared as if out of thin air, his arm blocking the staff. "Hold it, Trav." the man had looked around, but turned to face the unconscious child before turning back to the necromancer. "Do you have any idea how rare and precious elven children can be, especially to the Black Mage?"
"Not at all." the necromancer grinned a toothless grin. "Can I blow up this here house now?"
"She is of Songbird descent," he noted, completely ignoring his question and turning the child over. "She would be invaluable to the Black Mage should she be trained appropriately." He lifted the small body over his shoulder without another word, turning to leave.
"Whatever, do what you please." he scoffed. "If you get into strife I won't be involved with it!"
“I somehow doubt that, Travis.” the man glared at the necromancer. “On the contrary, did they ever teach you to treat your superiors with respect?”
Travis, having realized who he was, hastily bowed and muttered an apology. “Didn’t realize… Won’t happen again…”
“I’ll keep your word for that.” he started to walk away. "Feel free to destroy the rest."
The necromancer’s expression twisted into a grin. Once the man was out of sight, he raised his staff again and began to chant in a low voice, letting the rune markings expand beyond the realms of the small scrap of paper. The markings crawled onto the walls, growing brighter before an explosion blasted the necromancer’s hood back.
The explosion was only deafened by the crash of wood and stone. The dust settled, and fire roared into the night. Lilienne was roused by the unsettling noise. After a moment of realizing what was going on, she began to wail and kick about, screaming. She screamed for her deceased parents. She screamed at the forest, withering under flame. The fire danced vibrantly around her; the black night and the vivid red twisting and twirling in a demented dance.
The strange man carrying her merely chuckled quietly to himself as he unfurled his wings. His cloak fell to the ground in shreds. The elf’s struggles ceased when he held a hand to her forehead, and he drew his scepter. The fire burned merrily as he slowly ascended into the sky, the winds fanning the flames. He paused for a moment to admire the burning town, then disappeared into the night.