| Welcome to Fire Emblem Fusion. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| The Emblem Kingdom: A Fusion Fic; 3rd time lucky? | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Jan 29 2009, 09:20 PM (272 Views) | |
| +Hollie | Jan 29 2009, 09:20 PM Post #1 |
Resident Brit
|
Three things: 1- don't expect to be anything like your character. 2- it's all Rin's fault 3- I don't promise to finish this. ~~~~~ Chapter 1 PZ felt like he had been running for hours, but he couldn’t be more than a few minutes away from the palace. His breath came in ragged gasps and already his sides hurt. He wasn’t built for this. No. You have to run. Run! His footsteps seemed louder than a gunshot in the stillness of the woods. He wasn’t welcome here. He could feel it in the trees, their foreboding presence hanging over him like a heavy blanket . . . Stop it. Run. They’d be behind him soon. And they would be faster. They’d have dogs, skilled trackers. They’d hunt him down. Member of the Family or not, he would be slaughtered for this secret. The Earth wouldn’t let it get out. His father . . . it wasn’t too much of a stretch of the imagination to see his father holding the axe. The bastard. He wouldn’t think twice to kill his own son “for the good of the family”. PZ whispered as he ran, trying to get the Earth to listen to him. It didn’t always. But surely it must see that this time it was important! Not just for him - this was for the Kingdom. To set things right. To undo the wrongs his family had done all those years ago. The wrongs they were still committing today. Branches no longer flung themselves in his face. Roots moved from his path. Yes! It’s listening! The Earth disguised the sound of his feet, the vibrations that any skilled member of the Earth family would have heard from miles away. And he was hardly miles from the palace yet. Keep running. Distantly, he heard a loud siren. The alarm. Someone had discovered his escape. No! Too soon! No. Don’t think. Run. The Earth was guiding him now, helping him to get away. It helped him to a shallow stream. The water was freezing but it was enough to stop the marks he was leaving on the forest floor. Enough to stop them finding him. He hoped. He needed time to get to the nearest town. PZ knew that he wouldn’t be safe in this district for more than a few days, if that. What he really needed was to find a way into another district . . . not that they would stop pursuing him there. But that at least would give him some cover. Maybe allies, if anybody trusted him enough to help. He was an Earth, after all. One of them. Tyrants. Bullies. Sadists. What a caring family. If they believed what he said, then anybody with a shred of rebellion in them would help. The trouble would be in getting somebody to believe him. To not take one look at his palace clothes and start in the other direction . . . that would need to change, fast. PZ was wearing the plainest clothes he had - he wasn’t stupid - but even so, he would stand out a mile. He needed to blend in. Once he was one amongst many, he would be much harder to find. He hoped. * It was market day in the Earth district. Reaver had never seen the city this busy before. It made him even more nervous. People stared at him as he walked past, almost as though they could tell he wasn’t one of them. Reaver shuddered. He longed to be back in the Fire district, where the stares did not exist. He didn’t like coming here at the best of times, but he needed the extra money it paid. Not many were willing to follow the boss into another district, much less the Earth one. He could see why and vowed that, when he did have the money, he’d never set foot outside the Fire district again. “You thinking again, Reaver?” his boss asked, sounding amused. Reaver scowled but did not reply. Wirt wasn’t a bad guy but he didn’t approve of thinking. Nothing so traitorous as becoming a Reader, anyway. A Reader. Reaver had longed to be one for as long as he had been able to read and write, which was most of his life. It meant working for the Earth family, but that didn’t matter. The library was what mattered. There was no other like it in the whole Kingdom. It was larger than any other collection of books, anywhere. So large that in the hundred years since the Earth family had taken control, they hadn’t managed to get through it all - they burned the books they disapproved of. If the Readers didn’t hide them first. Reaver had been inside a small section of the library once. To this day, it was the biggest room he could remember. And so many books . . . too many to count. Remembering the room now made him dizzy. Tall, domed ceiling. Wooden bookcases three times as tall as he was. Books of all sizes packed neatly into every shelf, alphabetically ordered. The dusty smell of those old pages was still one he fondly recalled. Pity the Reader training was so expensive . . . “Reaver,” Wirt said. He jumped. “Keep your wits about you. Could be trouble.” Wirt was right. A group of Earth soldiers was wandering from stall to stall, talking to the vendors hurriedly in low voices. One of them had spotted Wirt and Reaver, and now he was making his way over. Reaver doubted he was in the market for oranges. “Hey,” the one who had spotted them yelled up, “What’s your business here?” “Trading,” Wirt answered, gesturing to the open crates in the back of the cart. The soldier glared at him suspiciously. “You have a permit?” “Of course.” He handed it over. The solder examined it closely for several seconds. “Fire district, eh,” he commented, “Bah. Don’t know why they let you lot in. You just cause trouble.” “Guess our oranges are worth it,” Wirt replied. Idly, he clicked his fingers and a tiny flame appeared. Oh no. Don’t tell me he’s going to start trouble now. Wirt stared levelly at the soldier. “Are we free to go now?” “No,” the soldier barked back. Reaver winced, sensing the threat in his voice. “I have to ask you a question first.” “Ask away.” “We’re looking for a boy. Seventeen. Brown hair. Tall. From the palace. Name of PZ.” The soldier glared at Wirt. “Traitor. You seen him?” Wirt appeared uninterested. “No.” “I see.” Hesitantly, Wirt’s permit was handed back. “If you do spot him, you had better tell us. Do you know what we do to people who hide traitors?” Reaver froze, convinced that Wirt was about to do something stupid, but for once the man seemed to think better of it. “I don’t care to find out,” he answered flatly. “Smart man,” the soldier replied, smirking. “On your way.” Wirt watched the soldier move away. “Whoever that boy is they’re looking for,” he said to Reaver, “I hope they don’t find him.” Reaver watched the man corner another trader from outside the Earth district and grimaced. “Yeah. Me too.” * That day was not a good day for sales. Wirt refused to give up, though. It was starting to get dark by the time Reaver’s boss finally let him pack everything away. Obviously, it had to rain too. The water came down in sheets. It was like walking through a waterfall. Reaver was soaked to the skin in seconds - not that Wirt was any better off. “Don’t reckon we’d get very far in this,” he muttered gloomily. “We best find some place to stay.” Reaver couldn’t help but give a sarcastic laugh. “What? A place for Fire districters? That’ll be the day.” “Oh, lighten up,” Wirt said. “There’ll be someone desperate enough for money.” “Yeah. So desperate, they’ll charge us a fortune - a fortune we don’t have.” Wirt clicked his fingers, shading the tiny flame from the rain with his free hand. “I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.” “With the soldiers when they throw us in prison?” Reaver said, flatly. His boss swore. “You’ve got a point. Well, if worst comes to worse we can sleep under the cart.” Reaver knew from experience that the cart didn’t make a water-tight roof. “Great.” It was the thought of that experience that kept Reaver from giving up. Eventually, over an hour later, the two of them did find a shady looking, run-down inn that was willing to accommodate them. At an exorbitant price. “40 marks,” Reaver muttered, as he handed the money over. “That’s outrageous.” “If you don’t like it,” the innkeeper scowled at him, “You can sleep outside.” The pounding of the rain on the roof was an unpleasant reminder of the weather outside. “No thanks.” “Then quit whining! You’re lucky I’m giving you a room in the first place. Bloody Fire districters. Nothing but trouble.” Reaver bit his lip and sighed, but said nothing as the keeper - reluctantly it seemed - handed over his keys. “Second floor. Room 42. 42 looks like--” “I know what the number looks like,” Reaver snapped, heading for the stairs. Wirt went off in the opposite direction - his room was on the ground floor. “See you in the morning, kiddo. Bright and early.” Looks like I’ll have no time for breakfast again. Reaver hadn’t had the best of days so far, but when the key wouldn’t even fit in the lock it was just about the final straw. “Damn it!” “Quiet down!” came the muffled reply from one of the rooms. Reaver ignored the protest, inspecting the lock with a sigh. The keeper didn’t seem the kind of man to admit a mistake easily, especially to a Fire districter, and even less like the kind of man to fix the problem. Well, he wasn’t sleeping under the cart tonight, not after he’d handed over 40 marks of his hard-earned savings. His extra pay wouldn’t even cover for that! Reaver clicked his fingers and blew a tiny flame into the lock. Humming as he coaxed the fire into reshaping the key, he was rewarded when he tried it again a few minutes later and the door opened quietly. His feeling of accomplishment was short-lived. As the door opened, he could see that the room already had an occupant. What the hell. Reaver automatically ran the checklist through his mind. The stranger was tall, with brown hair. At a guess, about seventeen. From the palace - well, he was wearing a poor man’s clothes, but there was no way those were a poor man’s boots. “PZ?” The figure whirled around and Reaver remembered what the soldier had also said. Traitor. Do you know what we do to people who hide traitors? That bloody keeper! Downstairs, the keeper was looking over his books for the day before locking up. His eyes fell on the last entry. Room 42. Shit! The runaway! If the Fire districter reported it . . . he was dead. Even if he wasn’t an Earth, they’d believe him for this if it meant they caught their traitor. Damn it. No, don’t panic. There was still a way out. It would mean going back on a promise but, well, he’d be able to live with that if it saved his skin. If he called the soldiers first, then they’d easily believe that the Fire districter was on the boy’s side. Yeah. That was a good plan. The barracks was the next street over. It would take him minutes. Minutes. Bad luck, kids. |
Known as Haar on Brand of Flame. Bitch.  Formerly Margaret Thatcher, Aleksandr | |
 |
 
|
| Rin | Jan 29 2009, 09:28 PM Post #2 |
TOTALLY A MAN
|
Oh man, oh man I was on edge from the beginning. I'm glad I |
 Av and Sig were definitely not made by Pendant or fez. | |
|
|
|
| PhantomZero | Jan 29 2009, 09:51 PM Post #3 |
|
Swarley
|
Hell yes. I want more. |
|
A NEW WORLD ORDER ~Known as PhantomZero, Mr. Noogen, Yosuke Hanamura | |
|
|
|
| Asvel | Jan 29 2009, 11:44 PM Post #4 |
Grandiloquent Panjandrum
|
I agree with this. Keep it up~ |
Asvel: The other forum pedo. fabulous banner by genn
Favorite Artist and Favorite Spriter Winter '09 :D | |
|
|
|
| Greth | Jan 30 2009, 01:08 AM Post #5 |
fuck all y'all
|
Good shit Hollie |
|
Has been known as: mrmastodon, Greth, MF Greth, L, Shu, Sailor Star Healer Voted most manly last time, and most underrated twice in a row, shit yeah! | |
|
|
|
| Ryotaro Dojima | Jan 30 2009, 04:02 PM Post #6 |
This Space intentionally left blank
|
Another Hollie fic hmm? Nice start. |
| |
|
|
|
| Dragon_Sniper | Jan 30 2009, 05:56 PM Post #7 |
mmmmmmmatt cassel
|
Cool stuff, Holly. Can't wait to read more. :D |
 They like me! They really like me! (And Hakado! :D) | |
|
|
|
| Psiwri | Jan 31 2009, 03:40 AM Post #8 |
Too Many Words
|
Leave it to the NPCs to be the small time evils that ultimately screw over the protagonist. |
 Please support my efforts in creating writing~ | |
|
|
|
| +Hollie | Jan 31 2009, 10:02 PM Post #9 |
|
Resident Brit
|
I don't like this chapter as much as the other one. Also, sorry to anyone who likes dogs. Chapter 2 When the soldiers had described a traitor from the palace, Reaver had expected somebody less - well, less like this. PZ had the fat of a few meals too many hanging around his face - it wasn’t unreasonable for a member of the Family, but it made him look younger than he was. His hair was surprisingly short. Reaver had always been told the Family wore their hair ridiculously long. It showed that they didn’t have to work for a living. “You’re a soldier?” PZ asked hesitantly. Reaver realised that he was scared. Not what he had expected at all. “No,” he answered carefully. “I’m a Fire districter.” As soon as he said the words ‘Fire districter’ a noticeable change came over the Earth. The tension all but left his face. “You’re a Fire districter! This is perfect!” Reaver backed away, “I don’t know what you’ve done but I’m not going to help you. I don’t want any trouble. I won’t tell them I saw you, but you have to leave now.” “No, you don’t understand--” the Earth insisted. “I don’t want anything to do with it!” Reaver yelled, clicking his fingers and holding the fire between himself and PZ. He was vaguely aware that yelling wasn’t a good idea, but he was too concerned with the boy in front of him to care at the moment. “They’d kill me if they knew I even saw you! Please, just go--” “I can help you,” PZ said. “I can help your whole district.” Whole district? Despite his fears, Reaver paused. “What?” “Not just the Fire district. I can help all of them. But you have to help me.” “What are you talking about?” he breathed. The fire in his palm illuminated PZ’s sure expression. The turnabout was startling - he didn’t look even slightly worried now. “I know a way to remake the emblems.” Reaver swore that his heart stopped for a second. He let the fire go out. Any thoughts he had had about kicking the stranger out by force immediately evaporated. He’s serious. A way to make the emblems again was something that not even Wirt, the most blatantly rebellious districter he knew, had dared to dream about. The emblems had given power to the seven Families for thousands of years before they’d been destroyed by the Earths when they overthrew the system. A traitor from the Family. Bringing them back would change everything. Being met with silence seemed to make PZ hesitate. “Will you help me?” “Of course,” Reaver answered. He could not call himself a Fire districter and refuse. There was no time for him to elaborate, because he suddenly heard loud footsteps on the stairs behind him. Footsteps accompanied by the heavy clank of armour. Reaver backed away from the door, towards the window, biting his lip as the sounds grew louder. “The keeper,” PZ muttered, “He must’ve--” “No time now,” Reaver interrupted. “We’ve got to get out of here. Won’t be able to get out the way we came in.” “Huh. Speak for yourself,” the Earth said, suddenly clambering onto the windowsill and dropping through the gap. Reaver watched as a huge section of the earth rose up to meet PZ only a foot above the window. Wow. That’s handy. A yell brought his attention back to the room. The soldiers were right outside the door. As they stepped forward, Reaver clicked his fingers and threw the fire forwards. It exploded and, at his suggestion, spread to cover the whole entrance in a split-second. The soldiers were put off, and several jumped backwards from the greedy flames. Good. That would buy them time. It was only as Reaver dropped down on to PZ’s platform of earth that he realised he hadn’t even told PZ his name. “I’m Reaver, by the way.” “Nice to meet you,” PZ said. “I suggest we get out of here while we’ve still got the opportunity.” The rain had slackened off and it was now no more than a light drizzle, but it was still too wet for fire to have any hope of catching. Reaver scowled, knowing that that could cause problems if any soldiers caught up to them. “We need to get out of the city,” PZ said. “Do you know--?” Reaver shook his head, pushing PZ forwards. The soldiers wouldn’t be preoccupied with the fire for long, if there weren’t a group hiding around the back already. “Plans later. Run now.” As they ran, it crossed Reaver’s mind that this could be really bad for Wirt. No, it would be really bad for Wirt. But his boss would have done exactly the same in his position. Hell, he would probably have taken less convincing than Reaver. That thought allowed him to keep running without turning back. “Do you know where the main gate is?” PZ asked him. He seemed out of breath. Reaver knew. He pointed in the general direction of the city’s temple: he remembered seeing the tall building just inside the gate, and the tall dome stood above every other structure in the city. “Somewhere over that way.” PZ nodded, and then ran in completely the opposite direction, taking Reaver utterly by surprise. He almost slipped and fell as he changed direction. “Where the heck are you going?” “Earth architecture,” the boy replied shortly. “Two gates always opposite each other.” “So we’re using the other gate?” “We’re making them think we’re using the other gate,” PZ answered. His expression was grim. Reaver wondered what he was planning, and hoped it would work. But at the same time, this Earth had managed to escape from the palace with the knowledge he had and hadn’t been caught yet. He probably had a good idea of what he was doing. His feet hit cobbles. The market square. It was almost like being back where he had started. PZ stopped abruptly and dragged Reaver towards a stack of abandoned crates. “Wait, what the hell?” “Be quiet,” PZ hissed urgently. “You’ll see.” The crates turned out to contain rotting fruit. He noticed PZ gag, but the boy just shook his head and tried to breathe through his mouth. Reaver did the same. “What the hell are we doing?” “Hiding. Now, don’t move at all.” PZ glanced at him. “I mean it. Keep your feet where they are, or they’ll find us.” Reaver’s legs were already beginning to ache. He gritted his teeth. An Earth knew best how to escape an Earth - or so he hoped. A few minutes passed. His legs were in agony, but he kept still. Suddenly, loud echoes around the square signalled the arrival of the Earth soldiers. Despite the smell, Reaver was suddenly glad of it: one of the soldiers had a huge dog, half as tall as he, that was straining on a leash that looked as though it were about to snap. Reaver had seen ones like it before. A hunting dog. “No sign?” one of the soldiers asked. His white armour marked him out as the captain. “No, sir,” another replied, “There’s still no trace . . . but they can’t be more than 300 yards from here.” “300 yards,” the captain sighed. “If they’ve stopped.” “But, sir, one’s a Fire districter and the traitor isn’t skilled enough to disguise his footsteps completely.” The captain didn’t even bother to look at the solider as he gave a reply. He glanced at the sky instead. “The buildings here are quite close together.” Silence greeted this. “Alright, let the dog try.” Reaver’s heart jumped to his throat as the huge dog was let off the lead and immediately started in their direction. He felt sick. Why hadn’t they just kept running? The dog suddenly faltered. It backtracked, this time going in a completely different direction. Reaver started to breathe again as it stopped for a second time and looked up helplessly at the handler. The rain. The rain’s confusing it. The captain swore. “Useless mutt. We would have been better off not bringing it.” “It’s the weather, sir,” the handler said, appearing offended, “Water runs all over the place, and takes the smell with it. Not the dog’s fault. Anyway, they’re probably heading for the west gate, it’s straight ahead from here.” “What? Why didn’t you mention this before?” “You didn’t ask, sir,” the handler answered apologetically. “Idiots,” the captain muttered. “Move! Now! We might already be too late to stop them escaping.” At the captain’s insistence, the group set off at a fast jog towards the west gate. Reaver almost pitied them. That armour didn’t look light. As soon as they were out of sight he relaxed and started to straighten his legs, but PZ held out his arm: not yet. Reaver scowled. “What are you waiting for? They can’t see us.” “They’re soldiers. They wouldn’t need to.” Seeing Reaver’s quizzical look, the Earth shook his head. “Nevermind. But don’t move yet.” A few more minutes passed in silence. Suddenly, PZ stood up, grimacing. “Come on, we need to get out of here. Run.” “Run?” Reaver asked weakly. His legs didn’t feel capable of keeping him standing. “Look, as soon as we start moving again they’ll be able to tell where we are. But if we can get to the wall before they do, I can get us out. Promise.” He scowled. “How? It’s alright for you, you’re an Earth and you understand them. But I’ve got no idea what just happened.” PZ bit his lip. “I’ll explain on the way. Just move already. Please. Your life depends on it.” Reaver didn’t take much more convincing than that. At least I can see the wall. It can’t be that far away. That was good; the soldiers couldn’t be that far away either. If they did have a way of finding out where he and PZ were it wouldn’t take them very long to catch up. “Our soldiers are specially trained,” PZ explained between breaths. “They can track movement. As long as you’re on the ground, they can feel your footsteps.” “Are you serious? That’s how they were following us?” The thought made him feel a little sick, as he realised how close he’d come to giving them away. “So, when they said about disguising your footsteps . . . ?” “It’s . . . difficult to explain,” PZ answered falteringly. “But there is a way to make it so it’s harder to find you.” Reaver guessed that was what PZ had been doing all along. “So, you can’t do this location thing?” “You only learn it if you enter the army. I wouldn’t be able to tell footsteps from rain.” “So you don’t know where they are now.” “No.” They had reached the wall when a dog howled, incredibly close. Reaver shuddered. “Was that . . . ?” “I don’t know,” PZ answered softly. “But we only need a few minutes.” A few minutes had never sounded like such a long time. Reaver bit his lip so hard that it started to bleed. Any sort of confidence he might have had in escape earlier had disappeared. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might stop; he was expecting the group of soldiers to appear round the corner at any moment. Hurry up, PZ! Suddenly part of the wall nearby collapsed in a cloud of dust. Reaver coughed, blinking as the dust made his eyes water. Through the echo of the fall, Reaver made out a stranger’s voice yell, “They’re over there!” The dust began to clear and he finally saw what PZ had done: part of the wall had fallen away, leaving a gap large enough for an elephant to escape through, much less two teenagers. The other thing he saw was the dog being released by the handler. “GO!” he yelled. PZ didn’t need any encouragement and the two of them scrambled through the rubble. Reaver was all too aware of the dog almost snapping at their heels. Clicking his fingers and talking to the fire like he had never done before, he half-turned and threw it straight at the snarling animal. It’s howl of misery, not quite able to disguise the curses of the handler, followed the two of them as they disappeared into the forest. |
Known as Haar on Brand of Flame. Bitch. Formerly Margaret Thatcher, Aleksandr | |
|
|
|
| Rin | Jan 31 2009, 10:26 PM Post #10 |
|
TOTALLY A MAN
|
FFFFFFFFFFFF NOOGEN RUUUUN!! The rain idea was smart. Poor dog =[ |
|
Av and Sig were definitely not made by Pendant or fez. | |
|
|
|
| PhantomZero | Feb 1 2009, 12:00 AM Post #11 |
|
Swarley
|
Holy crap Hollie. This fic is fucking amaziiinggg. |
|
A NEW WORLD ORDER ~Known as PhantomZero, Mr. Noogen, Yosuke Hanamura | |
|
|
|
| +Hollie | Feb 2 2009, 09:23 PM Post #12 |
|
Resident Brit
|
Chapter 3 The palace of the Family had stood for far longer than it had belonged to them. Once, more than a century ago, it had held each of the seven Families in turn: 7 years for each Family. That was the way that the Kingdom had been ruled. It was strange to think, now, that each dark stone had once belonged to nobody. The tapestries, paintings, statues - each and every one of them were now Earth Family property. The war in which his great-grandfathers had seized power had been fought long before Psio’s time, but sometimes he wondered whether it had really been planned correctly. Why hadn’t they simply waited until it was their turn to rule, and then killed the other Families? It would have been much less expected then. He didn’t voice this thought aloud, of course. Still, their success sometimes seemed more like an accident than a brilliant war of strategy. Now, if he had been in charge, it would have been very different. If he had been alive then, though, Psio would have died far too early to solve the problem the Family faced now. He mentally cursed. That foolish child. What in earth’s name had possessed him to betray, not only his family, but a hundred years of history? Family member or not, though, Psio would see to it that he was punished accordingly. He really felt sorry for PZ’s father. Some people had even dared to blame him for his eldest son’s actions. Psio had seen to it that they were punished accordingly, too. PZ’s actions had been a disaster for the Family. On the positive side, they were quickly regaining ground. Soldiers had been dispatched to every district to stop trouble, and Psio already had plans for PZ’s Fire districter co-conspirators. Especially the one they had in custody. The Fire district would be seeing that little piece of genius very soon. Providing the king didn’t object, but that was unlikely in the extreme. Psio knocked politely on the door to the king’s room - not the throne room, that was far too large for two people. You never knew who was hiding in the corners. No, the king spent most of his time down here, overlooking the elaborate gardens. He said it helped him to plan. A deep voice said, “Come in.” Psio entered. The king smiled in greeting. “Ah, Psio! I hope you have good news.” “I do, your majesty.” Frowning, the king replied, “You know I told you to ignore the formalities. We are family.” Psio didn’t like ignoring the formalities. He enjoyed inventing formalities, just to watch people stumble. But ignoring King Feez was never a good option, whatever your relation. “If that’s how you want it, brother.” Feez sighed. “It’s an improvement. What news do you have?” “PZ and the young Fire districter escaped from Helma. But we have the young districter’s boss in custody. His name is Wirt.” “Wirt?” The king frowned slightly. “Should I know that name?” Psio remembered mentioning him to his brother previously. “It might be familiar. He’s the Fire districter who’s always trying to cause trouble.” “Ah, that one.” Psio swallowed as his brother’s eyes glittered. “Your plans?” “W-well . . .” He didn’t mind admitting that King Feez, his brother or no, sometimes scared him. The fact that he could be pleasant, and often was to close family, could never make him forget that his brother was essentially a soldier. A powerful, intelligent and utterly ruthless soldier. “We’ll wait for a few days, maybe a week, loosen security just a little - let the Fire districter lead PZ home. Then we announce Wirt’s execution. The Fire district gives PZ up, he’s spared. Well, not killed publicly at any rate.” “You think this will succeed?” “There’s a very good chance of it. The Fire districters admire Wirt greatly . . . the Fire Overseer never could bring him in and keep him there. I think he gave up in the end.” Feez chuckled, making Psio’s skin crawl. “Not bad, for an orange merchant! I’m tempted to kill the man myself.” Psio swallowed nervously. He knew all too well the fights to the death Feez enjoyed with the odd criminal who captured his interest. He had never lost yet. “I-I don’t think that would work quite the same, sire.” He was too fast too follow. Before Psio knew what was happening, a knife had passed over his shoulder and buried itself in the door behind him. “You’re doing it again, Psio,” Feez said. “You know how that annoys me.” He tried to keep his breathing steady. “Sorry, brother.” “Not to worry. Just watch your tongue next time. What about the other Fire districter?” Psio frowned outwardly, but he was secretly glad of the change of subject. “Oh, Reaver. We got a name from the keeper, but we don’t know much else about him. Wirt won’t say anything, despite my best attempts to persuade him.” “Hmm, shame,” Feez said thoughtfully. “What happens if your plan doesn’t work, Psio?” There was that look again. The dangerous look. “Wirt is executed. Then we move on to Plan B. Starve it out of them.” “Is that the best you could come up with?” Feez asked, unimpressed. Then he smiled, making Psio shudder. “No, brother. I’ve got a better back-up plan for you . . .” * PZ glanced up at the sky. It was so . . . bright. Tonight was a full moon, and the sky was scattered by literally hundreds of stars. He’d only seen a sky like that for the first time a week ago, and it still amazed him. Most rooms of the palace were lit, day and night, not to mention the display of candles on the roof. That had been his father’s idea, a tribute to their ancestors. PZ thought watching the stars would have been a better use for the roof. Reaver had probably seen skies like this his whole life. PZ guessed that was why he was annoyed with him for being so distracted. Not that the district wasn’t a new experience for him either. He just preferred to dwell on the more pleasant ones. It stank of smoke and filth, and although Reaver assured him it wasn’t all as bad as this, PZ had a difficult time believing it. It wasn’t the Fire district’s fault (except for the smoke). It was his family who had reduced them to this level. How do they live with it? He was surprised that nobody had tried to get rid of the Family sooner. As they started to turn the corner of an alley, Reaver suddenly pushed him back, holding a finger to his lips. A man in dark clothing walked past. Reaver quickly peered around the corner, and then nodded that it was safe to continue. PZ followed him. It had been like this since they’d entered the district earlier that night. Reaver knew a lot of people in the district. He didn’t want any of them to recognise him: they all knew he was supposed to be with Wirt in Helma, and somebody would start asking questions about his new friend. Reaver had noticed that there were more soldiers about, although they didn’t look like they were searching for a traitor to him. Maybe Reaver was overreacting after being in an Earth city, where you normally never saw any sort of threatening presence. “How far to this friend of yours?” PZ asked, breaking the silence. Reaver glared at him, but then just sighed. “Ten minutes, tops. Keep quiet, though. We’re in the better part of town - where the barracks are.” PZ automatically glanced around, suddenly nervous. No wonder Reaver had insisted they enter at night. The Fire districter continued to lead him through the streets, taking special care around the barracks. PZ relaxed a little once they had passed it. He glanced at the stars again. He’d heard that they were supposed to make symbols in the sky. He couldn’t really see any. Was that a bad sign, or were they always that hard to see? PZ was so distracted that he almost missed Reaver turning down a tiny side street. No, it wasn’t even a side street. I was barely wide enough for him to walk through, and the only thing there apart from brick walls was a door. Reaver knocked, loudly. The noise made PZ jump, and he wondered what happened to being quiet. Why does he suddenly feel safer here? Nobody answered the door. Reaver didn’t bother to knock this time, he banged on the door with both fists. “Open up before I have to burn the door down!” That got a reaction. The door opened so suddenly that Reaver nearly smacked the man that it had revealed. PZ guessed he was at least double his age, probably closer to 40 than 30 - his hair was just starting to grey at the temples. He stared at his visitor as though he was seeing a ghost. “Reaver! It’s really you?” “Who else would it be?” Reaver snapped, “Come on, Kamai, let us in. I really need your help.” “Don’t talk like that to me,” Kamai growled, slapping Reaver gently across the head. But then his expression suddenly changed. “I thought you were dead, you little bastard. Don’t do that again.” “Dead?” Reaver echoed, now sounding worried. “Kamai, what happened?” The older man seemed to shrink. “You don’t know, do you . . . you really do need my help. You’d better come in.” He held up his light, shining light further into the tiny space, where PZ was hanging back. “. . . Your friend, too.” It took a second or two before PZ caught up and followed Reaver through the open door. When Kamai had first opened the door, he hadn’t been able to see the light at his side, and he’d simply assumed that it was a gas lamp or something. But it wasn’t. The tiny ball of pure light, now floating in midair near Kamai’s head, followed them as he led them to a table. Kamai was a Light. But what was a Light doing in the Fire district? Edited by Hollie, Feb 3 2009, 04:34 PM.
|
Known as Haar on Brand of Flame. Bitch. Formerly Margaret Thatcher, Aleksandr | |
|
|
|
| K' | Feb 3 2009, 12:18 AM Post #13 |
PR
|
Dude, this stuff is ballin' Keep at it Hollie! |
| |
|
|
|
| Psiwri | Feb 3 2009, 12:26 AM Post #14 |
|
Too Many Words
|
hmhmhmhmhmhmmmhmhmmm |
|
Please support my efforts in creating writing~ | |
|
|
|
| Kamaitachi | Feb 3 2009, 12:27 AM Post #15 |
Classy
|
It's nitpicky, and it's probably a typo, but I hate it when people mix tenses. Other than that, it seems to be a pretty fun read. |
   
| |
|
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Fan Fiction · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
6:33 AM Nov 23
