World Building Blog Hop Day 5 - Excerpt.
Feb. 1st, 2013 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessAnd now for the most fun part, the world building excerpt. A little context here, the Living Goddess, Savaria Archana, was kidnapped and her temple destroyed. She escaped her captures but is lost in the woods. She's never been outside of the capitol city in her life and has never been completely alone anywhere before. She's spent the night in a tree, hiding from her kidnappers.
This excerpt of Voluntary Nightmare is a little longer than what I'll be turning in for the contest but makes for a bit more of a complete scene.
Everything hurt. Her muscles had cramped from hugging a tree all night. Bruises stood out like eggplants on her cinnamon skin. Deep red gullies encircled her wrists like the coarsest of bracelets and an insistent hunger rumbled in her. Having no way to mollify any part of her, Archana started to walk. Those men might not be too far off. She had to find her way back to the capital city. She’d find Major Drake. He’d know what to do. The military had to know about the attack by now. The whole country would be in turmoil if they thought the Living Goddess was dead.
Roses bloomed in the grey sky as she walked on, her lips getting dried and cracked. She needed to find water. As the sky lightened, Archana happened upon a stream. She knew she should boil the water, but she had no idea how to make fire. She might get sick later, but she’d die now without something to drink. Kneeling down, she put her whole chin and mouth in the water, feeling it tickle against her nose as she drank.
“Bad enough you destroy our homes, now you steal from us, too,” a gruff voice said behind her, bringing her head up sharply. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now, Tasi bitch.”
Archana knew she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. Fury enveloped her, hot as the spices in a fall festival buffet. She kicked backwards, rewarded by a meaty thump and his squawk of pain. She tried to bolt, but he caught her braid, tossing invectives her way. Archana couldn’t get leverage, but managed to catch hold of his free hand. Even as she shifted her weight so she could throw him, something felt wrong. His wrist was too hard, just not right in her hand.
Archana couldn’t keep in the squeal of surprise as his hand tore free of his body. He hit ground, his breath exploding out. Staring at her hand, which refused to let go, she saw a clawed prosthetic clutched in her fingers, its straps pulled free, unable to withstand the torque of his whole body flying up and over someone. Dazed, he pushed himself up with his stump of an arm, a gun in his good hand. Only then did she realize her attacker wasn’t one of her kidnappers. His long blond hair marked him as a Yaarian. Angry displaced Yaarian or kidnapping Tasiana, Archana knew it didn’t matter; a bullet from either would be just as deadly.
Archana looked at the prosthesis in her hand before glancing down at the fallen young man. His long pale golden braid had flopped over his shoulder, half obscuring his face but not enough to hide his surprise and rage. Archana knew she should run, but she was in temple sandals and he was in rugged boots. In spite of her escape last night, she knew she had a head start and darkness on her side then. She doubted she could outrun the Yaarian. Not to mention the matter of the gun pointed at her. She took a chance and said, “I’m sorry.”
“That hurt,” he snarled, trying to find the stump of his arm under the flopping sleeve, using his teeth to tug it down so he wouldn’t have to give up his gun. He couldn’t manage it. “Damn it, if you broke the straps…do you know how hard it was to get that arm?”
Archana examined her prize. “The buckle came undone. It’s not broken.” Glancing back at him, she saw the flesh of his arm was a mass of red and white waves, like a melted candle. He bled where the buckle had torn into his skin before coming free. Burns, she hated burns. They were the hardest wounds to heal and they never went back right, always leaving horrific scars. Her magic could mend torn flesh but burns altered it, melting away fats, twisting the muscles, blackening bone. There was only so much that could be done, even with magic. Knowing it was risky, Archana approached him and touched his arm, healing the fresh abrasion. His fingers closed over her wrist and she tightened her grip on his prosthesis, ready to use it as a club if need be. The gun had been set next to him and she felt sure the intent to use it had faded away. His brilliant green eyes were hard, wary, but some of the hostility had melted once her healing powers touched him.
“Why would you do that?” The rough edge of his voice dulled slightly.
“Because I’m the one who hurt you, though you didn’t give me much choice.” Archana darted toward the gun. Their heads collided as he went for the weapon. Archana stumbled back and the Yaarian brought the gun back up. “Your head is like rock,” she grumbled, rubbing her skull.
“Mine? I think yours broke bone.” Those unusual green eyes focused on her hand then narrowed. “That stone…” His gun wavered again. “You’re…you can’t be!”
“If you were going to say, Living Goddess, obviously I am.” Archana rubbed the stone still glued firmly to her head. Feeling a dampness, she glanced at her fingers, seeing a smear of blood. “It did cut you. I’ll fix it.”
“Why don’t you stay over there?” He tried to get his feet under him. “Don’t you know what this is?” He nodded at his gun.
“Of course, I know. Just like I know I can’t outrun a bullet so I lose nothing in healing you. At best, you get a better target.” Archana swept her hand over his forehead, erasing the abrasion. “Here, let me put your arm back on.”
“I can do it,” he hissed, backing away
“Not if you want to keep your gun.” Archana didn’t flinch away from the heat of his glare. He yanked his shirt up over his shoulder, revealing more scarring. He shoved the stump of his arm at her and she fastened the straps around his scarred shoulder. Archana tugged his shirt back down for him. If he were grateful for any of it, she saw no signs of it.
“Now back up,” he ordered.
Archana complied, wondering how she would eventually get away from this young man and more importantly how in the world would she find her way back home. She kept a close eye on him. “You know, you can put that gun away. If I were going to run off, I would have bashed you in the head with your arm and done so.”
He eyed her. “You don’t talk like a Living Goddess.”
She didn’t point out that she wasn’t sure a Yaarian would know. While they did believe in the goddess, their religion emphasized her consort, Alden.
His intent scrutiny continued. “Which one are you?”
She could not believe the rough way he spoke to her. It provided the match to the tinder of her temper. “I put you on your backside without trying hard. I'm obviously Savaria Mercy.”
He snorted at her, holstering the gun. “Perfect, I get to see a Goddess and she’s a smart ass.” His eyes raked over her dirty nightgown. “I didn’t think you were allowed out by yourselves.”
“We’re not. I was kidnapped,” she admitted, seeing no reason to hide the truth. “All I want to do is go home.”
“Kid….oh shit!” Fire roiled in his gaze. “They’ll blame us again.”
Archana held up a hand. “I saw my kidnappers. They were Tasiana.”
“Do you think that matters?” he snarled.
“No, I’m sure those looking to make war will blame you. All the more reason to let me go home so I can make sure that the wrong people aren’t blamed for what happened. The temple was in ruins. They will want someone to blame,” she assured him, watching the fear creep like fog into his eyes.
His flesh hand tore through his long hair, tearing some of it where it had come loose from his braid. “I have to think. I can’t…we’re too far to just take you back. Not with you dressed like that. My village is closer. The elders will know what to do with you.”
Archana sighed. He might have a point. Her feet ached and her powers to heal could barely keep up with her body’s ability to form new blisters. “Then take me to them.”
“They might not let you go.” His hard eyes bore into her. “The Tasiana are our enemy.”
“If they think you killed one of the Savaria Chorus, the last war would look like child’s play.” Archana didn’t like that it sounded like a threat. It was the truth and the intelligence flickering behind his eyes told her that he knew that.
“That’s why you’re going to the Elder. I can’t trust that someone wouldn’t spot me with you, even if we made it back to the city limits and just fucking shoot me. The elders can decide what to do with you.”
worldbuilding blog fest
This excerpt of Voluntary Nightmare is a little longer than what I'll be turning in for the contest but makes for a bit more of a complete scene.
Everything hurt. Her muscles had cramped from hugging a tree all night. Bruises stood out like eggplants on her cinnamon skin. Deep red gullies encircled her wrists like the coarsest of bracelets and an insistent hunger rumbled in her. Having no way to mollify any part of her, Archana started to walk. Those men might not be too far off. She had to find her way back to the capital city. She’d find Major Drake. He’d know what to do. The military had to know about the attack by now. The whole country would be in turmoil if they thought the Living Goddess was dead.
Roses bloomed in the grey sky as she walked on, her lips getting dried and cracked. She needed to find water. As the sky lightened, Archana happened upon a stream. She knew she should boil the water, but she had no idea how to make fire. She might get sick later, but she’d die now without something to drink. Kneeling down, she put her whole chin and mouth in the water, feeling it tickle against her nose as she drank.
“Bad enough you destroy our homes, now you steal from us, too,” a gruff voice said behind her, bringing her head up sharply. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now, Tasi bitch.”
Archana knew she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. Fury enveloped her, hot as the spices in a fall festival buffet. She kicked backwards, rewarded by a meaty thump and his squawk of pain. She tried to bolt, but he caught her braid, tossing invectives her way. Archana couldn’t get leverage, but managed to catch hold of his free hand. Even as she shifted her weight so she could throw him, something felt wrong. His wrist was too hard, just not right in her hand.
Archana couldn’t keep in the squeal of surprise as his hand tore free of his body. He hit ground, his breath exploding out. Staring at her hand, which refused to let go, she saw a clawed prosthetic clutched in her fingers, its straps pulled free, unable to withstand the torque of his whole body flying up and over someone. Dazed, he pushed himself up with his stump of an arm, a gun in his good hand. Only then did she realize her attacker wasn’t one of her kidnappers. His long blond hair marked him as a Yaarian. Angry displaced Yaarian or kidnapping Tasiana, Archana knew it didn’t matter; a bullet from either would be just as deadly.
Archana looked at the prosthesis in her hand before glancing down at the fallen young man. His long pale golden braid had flopped over his shoulder, half obscuring his face but not enough to hide his surprise and rage. Archana knew she should run, but she was in temple sandals and he was in rugged boots. In spite of her escape last night, she knew she had a head start and darkness on her side then. She doubted she could outrun the Yaarian. Not to mention the matter of the gun pointed at her. She took a chance and said, “I’m sorry.”
“That hurt,” he snarled, trying to find the stump of his arm under the flopping sleeve, using his teeth to tug it down so he wouldn’t have to give up his gun. He couldn’t manage it. “Damn it, if you broke the straps…do you know how hard it was to get that arm?”
Archana examined her prize. “The buckle came undone. It’s not broken.” Glancing back at him, she saw the flesh of his arm was a mass of red and white waves, like a melted candle. He bled where the buckle had torn into his skin before coming free. Burns, she hated burns. They were the hardest wounds to heal and they never went back right, always leaving horrific scars. Her magic could mend torn flesh but burns altered it, melting away fats, twisting the muscles, blackening bone. There was only so much that could be done, even with magic. Knowing it was risky, Archana approached him and touched his arm, healing the fresh abrasion. His fingers closed over her wrist and she tightened her grip on his prosthesis, ready to use it as a club if need be. The gun had been set next to him and she felt sure the intent to use it had faded away. His brilliant green eyes were hard, wary, but some of the hostility had melted once her healing powers touched him.
“Why would you do that?” The rough edge of his voice dulled slightly.
“Because I’m the one who hurt you, though you didn’t give me much choice.” Archana darted toward the gun. Their heads collided as he went for the weapon. Archana stumbled back and the Yaarian brought the gun back up. “Your head is like rock,” she grumbled, rubbing her skull.
“Mine? I think yours broke bone.” Those unusual green eyes focused on her hand then narrowed. “That stone…” His gun wavered again. “You’re…you can’t be!”
“If you were going to say, Living Goddess, obviously I am.” Archana rubbed the stone still glued firmly to her head. Feeling a dampness, she glanced at her fingers, seeing a smear of blood. “It did cut you. I’ll fix it.”
“Why don’t you stay over there?” He tried to get his feet under him. “Don’t you know what this is?” He nodded at his gun.
“Of course, I know. Just like I know I can’t outrun a bullet so I lose nothing in healing you. At best, you get a better target.” Archana swept her hand over his forehead, erasing the abrasion. “Here, let me put your arm back on.”
“I can do it,” he hissed, backing away
“Not if you want to keep your gun.” Archana didn’t flinch away from the heat of his glare. He yanked his shirt up over his shoulder, revealing more scarring. He shoved the stump of his arm at her and she fastened the straps around his scarred shoulder. Archana tugged his shirt back down for him. If he were grateful for any of it, she saw no signs of it.
“Now back up,” he ordered.
Archana complied, wondering how she would eventually get away from this young man and more importantly how in the world would she find her way back home. She kept a close eye on him. “You know, you can put that gun away. If I were going to run off, I would have bashed you in the head with your arm and done so.”
He eyed her. “You don’t talk like a Living Goddess.”
She didn’t point out that she wasn’t sure a Yaarian would know. While they did believe in the goddess, their religion emphasized her consort, Alden.
His intent scrutiny continued. “Which one are you?”
She could not believe the rough way he spoke to her. It provided the match to the tinder of her temper. “I put you on your backside without trying hard. I'm obviously Savaria Mercy.”
He snorted at her, holstering the gun. “Perfect, I get to see a Goddess and she’s a smart ass.” His eyes raked over her dirty nightgown. “I didn’t think you were allowed out by yourselves.”
“We’re not. I was kidnapped,” she admitted, seeing no reason to hide the truth. “All I want to do is go home.”
“Kid….oh shit!” Fire roiled in his gaze. “They’ll blame us again.”
Archana held up a hand. “I saw my kidnappers. They were Tasiana.”
“Do you think that matters?” he snarled.
“No, I’m sure those looking to make war will blame you. All the more reason to let me go home so I can make sure that the wrong people aren’t blamed for what happened. The temple was in ruins. They will want someone to blame,” she assured him, watching the fear creep like fog into his eyes.
His flesh hand tore through his long hair, tearing some of it where it had come loose from his braid. “I have to think. I can’t…we’re too far to just take you back. Not with you dressed like that. My village is closer. The elders will know what to do with you.”
Archana sighed. He might have a point. Her feet ached and her powers to heal could barely keep up with her body’s ability to form new blisters. “Then take me to them.”
“They might not let you go.” His hard eyes bore into her. “The Tasiana are our enemy.”
“If they think you killed one of the Savaria Chorus, the last war would look like child’s play.” Archana didn’t like that it sounded like a threat. It was the truth and the intelligence flickering behind his eyes told her that he knew that.
“That’s why you’re going to the Elder. I can’t trust that someone wouldn’t spot me with you, even if we made it back to the city limits and just fucking shoot me. The elders can decide what to do with you.”
worldbuilding blog fest
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Date: 2013-02-02 04:13 am (UTC)Bloody great tease
Date: 2013-02-02 04:47 am (UTC);-) Actually that was an excellent excerpt it really explained quite a bit but not that much if that makes sense. Either way, it's quite a story you've got in the works. Thanks for sharing.
Re: Bloody great tease
Date: 2013-02-02 05:11 am (UTC)I'm glad you liked this. I need to get this story back on track and this blog hop is helping
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Date: 2013-02-02 05:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-02-06 12:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-02-06 02:51 am (UTC)