DWC February 2024 - Day 5 - Notorious/Altruistic - Braedyn
A Love Story
Braedyn Velstand had never been the altruistic sort. She never gave painful amounts to a charity--only enough to seem to feel the sting, when necessary for appearances. She didn’t spend her time organizing fundraisers or donation drives. She left that to Fortune’s Family. There were plenty of spouses that loved that sort of work, but it had never been, nor ever would be, her.
But neither was Braedyn known as notorious. She was a little aloof maybe, a little reserved, surely. Even a little rigid at times. But mostly she wasn’t regarded at all, outside the Velstand Family. She was left to bake and read and watch. Her favorite things.
But her deeds… her deeds had caused quite a stir, once. Some, if they ever knew, might call the villain who skimmed from so many 'notorious'. But first they would have to notice. Just a penny here, a coin there. The villain had, so many years ago, funded themself from the froth of the waves of gold in the columns of the accounts of those who were unlikely to ever notice it missing. Just a little from the left overs. No one had ever chased her about it, and she had opened her bakery on the scraps of other people’s fortunes.
But Fortune had found her out. The only one to have ever noted the tiny losses and found their way to her. He was clever and careful when she had thought herself untouchable. But you should know your enemies, and she had not fully realized that he was THE accountant.
She had collected a smidge of his gold, and he had collected on the whole of her heart.
@daily-writing-challenge
February 22, 2024
Daily Writing Challenge, Day 5
Notorious/Altruistic
“Why ‘Starweaver’?”
Yserina glanced up from her embroidery and quirked an eyebrow up at her guest. They had never talked too deeply or asked many questions, and for that to be one of the first was deeply amusing to the elder Kaldorei.
She wound the ice spider silk around and around and around again on her needle before pulling it through the gossamer held tight across the hoop to create a gathered knot before shrugging, “I did not choose it. The augurs in Zin-Azshari used to say that our destinies were written in the stars, and I thought that was a crock of shit. People would go to them, be told that the fish swimming a certain direction that day meant something in particular for the course of their decade, and if someone didn’t like that fortune they’d come to me to weave it into a better one.”
Fiorenze ‘ah’ed quietly, “Fabric can be altered.”
Yserina smiled and carefully threaded many small pearls from a recently deconstructed necklace onto her needle and thread, “Yes. I’m not the only one, by any means, but I may be one of the oldest.”
“It does seem like it could be an occasionally fraught occupation,” the Sin’dorei girl folded her arms on the table before leaning forward to rest her chin on her wrists, watching as each pearl became stitched into a grander design.
The Starweaver hummed a note of agreement, “Nature can be terribly cruel, at times, and people more so.”
“You don’t seem like the type of person to take in strays with that in mind.”
That was certainly the truth. The Kaldorei leaned forward and brushed a lock of Fiorenze’s moon white bangs back out of her face, “I like to collect interesting things. It’s not every day you find a Sin’dorei dreaming themselves into the Emerald fields, especially not one with power. My children and grandchildren are all dead, and I will not be here forever. Don’t be foolish to think your stars aren’t being woven while you stay.”
Fiore smiled then, catlike and pretty, “Perhaps that’s what I needed. You aren’t going to trap me here then, are you?”
Yserina stilled her stitching and reeled back a bit, posture shifting as she sat straighter — the ceiling and walls almost seeming to rise with her a bit, “Have I not let you come and go as you please? Far from it. You’re too young and untested, there’s only so much I can teach you and plenty more to learn on your own out in the world.”
“I meant no offense, I promise,” the Sin’dorei sighed, tilting her head to rest her cheek on her forearm.
Yserina narrowed her eyes as she settled back into her craft, “Good. It would be nice if you still chose to visit from time to time, but even better if you bring curious gifts.”
Fiorenze laughed then, bright and charming as small tower bells, “I have just the friend to help with that.”
With deft movements, apples vanished from one spot, a loaf of bread from another. The necklace of a noble disappeared, as did someone else's entire bag.
What's that commotion? Whoops, was that your sandwich? Not anymore.
Silvermoon City was gripped by a plague of thievery, perpetrated by a mysterious figure no one could apprehend. This elusive presence came and went swiftly, leaving market vendors in uproar.
Leo huddled in his humble abode, surveying his day's haul, mostly food for sustenance. Any material possessions would be sold off come morning to the fence.
Posters plastered the city walls, branding the culprit as "The Void".
"The Void? Hm, not bad. But could be better," Leo mused, emerging from his hideout to examine the poster. "No picture. How do they expect anyone to catch this person?" He flagged down passersby, pointing to the poster. "Seen this?" he asked.
The couple nodded. "Hope they catch whoever it is. A menace. A leech," they remarked, eyeing Leo's disheveled appearance with disdain.
"Indeed. But how will they catch them without a picture?" Leo queried genuinely.
"They'll set traps, obviously. What else?" the couple retorted.
"Traps? Like what?" Leo inquired.
"Bait them with what they steal most," they explained, rolling their eyes and moving on, advising Leo to take a bath.
Insults were nothing new to Leo- whether about his smell or looks, he had heard it all. He pondered the idea of traps as he returned to his makeshift shelter for the night. "Traps, huh? Good to know," he muttered before retiring.
Continued from Day 3 & Day 4 ... TW: Blood & Death mentions
Ellissay wasn't sure how long she had been out, long enough, she would suppose. She could feel something heavy on her and realized she was pinned down by the large man who had attacked her. He wasn't moving, so she tried to push him off with a hard shove, which forced him marginally from her. The second time, she uses her body as leverage, and with a grunt and another hard shove, she manages to push him off to the side and roll out from under him.
She just lay there trying to piece together what had happened for a moment. She breathes heavily from the exertion, dragging large amounts of air into her lungs. She tries to sit up and winces, her hand reaching for the back of her head. She winces again as she touches the area. Her head is throbbing; she furrows her brow and slightly groans. She can feel the swelling beneath her fingertips and feel the pain radiating out from it. Already, she has a headache and is light-headed.
Suddenly, her eyes go wide. The gun! It had gone off during the struggle. She looks over to the very still, large man, and it hits her he must have taken the shot. She still pats herself down to make sure that she is okay even though she only feels pain in her head. When satisfied she has no other wounds, she moves to locate her weapons, crawling across to the man who still hasn't moved. She puts her hands underneath his side and, with a few grunts and attempts, manages to push him over onto his back. She winces slightly as his hood falls back, revealing his endless staring eyes. She wasn't sure where he had been shot; blood had pooled on the floor and wet a good portion of the chest area of his shirt, and she honestly couldn't tell where the bullet had entered his chest. She looks down at her clothing and realizes it is also soaked in blood from where he had landed on top of her. It is on her hands as well, between her touching her clothing and moving his body. She wipes them as best she can on his pants before searching for the gun she had dropped.
Ellissay finds the gun, picks it up, and holsters it. She looks around, locating her dagger and also holsters it as well. Both would be easy to access should she need them, but hopefully, she wouldn't. She sways slightly on her feet as she stands, the room spinning just enough to make her reach toward the wall to steady herself. She breathes in a few times through her nose and back out. She still has a job to do and is determined to do it.
She gets her bearings and moves toward the cell block. Each door is closed only by an outside latching mechanism, which she assumed kept it locked from the inside but gave easier access from the outside. It didn't take her long to figure out how to open it. Inside was a scene that was one of horror. The woman looked like skin and bones, and her hair was matted and so dirty she wasn't even sure what the color was. She hears footsteps behind her and immediately turns, dagger suddenly in hand, ready to fight again.
Shiloh holds up his hands. "Hey, it's me, Shy. I thought you could use a hand. Fighting is all but done out there. Those alive ran, but we will ensure the law knows where this place is now. They will be caught soon enough." Shiloh nods at her and looks over her shoulder at the woman. He shakes his head, his usual smile a grimace. You can see the look of horror in his eyes. "Let's get her out of her. I will take her to medical, and you can finish opening the doors. I will return as soon as I make sure she is in good hands."
Ellissay begins to protest that this is her job, although she knows he is just being his usual generous self. She felt she was letting the team down by not finishing her part. However, another bought of dizziness threatens to overtake her, and she nods at him, sighing heavily. "Okay, okay."
Shiloh moves to pick up the frail woman, who instantly pulls back away from him. She couldn't hear what he said, but suddenly, he had the woman in his arms and hurried back down the hallway. Hopefully, he had a better sense of direction than she had.
"Mom! She's here!" The little girl rushes over to throw those little arms of hers around Kai's neck as she knelt down. "Hello little one. Sorry for being late." Kai wraps her arms around the little girl, holding her close. "It's okay! Mommy said you might run late!' Kai looks up at Araenesil with a warm smile.
"Want to help me set everything up?" The little girl smiles even more as she takes Kai's hand. As they walk through the garden, Kai smiles to the women who lived here at the shelter, in which Kai had been visiting for a few months now. The friendships she had formed her would last a life time.
Most had children, though some didn't. Most had either lost their husbands and homes to war, while others, like Araenesil and her four year old daughter Loraedia found safety away from the abuse of their husbands. Ever week Kai would bring toys, clothing, food, and what ever the shelter needs at the time.
Little Lora was Kai's little shadow, though Kai did not mind. She had been through so much already in her young life. Kai enjoyed reading to all the children and Lora always sat on Kai's lap and helped her turn the pages of what ever book she was reading at the time.
The shelter helped these women get the support they needed. She has seen many come and go, and she did her best to keep in touch with those who had moved out.
Children ran around laughing as their moms set up the tables for their dinner. Kai would help cook in the kitchen. She did not leave until later that night, after everything was cleaned up and all the children were fast a sleep. She promised Lora she would be back in a few days, leaving the little girl with her favorite teddy.
DWC February 2024
Day 5: Notorious / Altruistic
(( Running a tad late, but running! ))
Luminash was no stranger to battle. He had looked into the eyes of many foes before – orcs consumed by fel bloodlust, soulless Scourge sockets, Alliance conscripts and veterans, scared children and hateful butchers alike, even the calculating gaze of the nathrezim – but nothing had prepared him for meeting his own gaze.
It was so full of fear and sorrow, it almost broke his heart. Almost, were it not for the man’s aims. Theras.
As the other launched a burst of flame, its heat unnatural, the sickly violet weaving in its heart showing its true nature, Luminash wove a volley of arcane missiles through its center, dispersing it, leaving only the sweat on his brow and the ashes of once-verdant grass as the evidence of its power.
What desperation had driven him to consume shadowflame and become this? The molten cracks in his skin glowed from within, and each new spark was accompanied by a crackling that seemed to come from inside the fallen magister.
Volley after volley came, dark-hearted fire and brilliant, blinding Arcane, reds and blues, deep violets and bright thistles crashed against one another, their play tearing apart the hollow, searing the earth and shattering soil. Each move was countered, each follow-up anticipated. They were, for their different weapons, the same. Some change was required.
Luminash’s fingers twitched, plucked at the Arcane, threads of magic strummed like a fine instrument, and the world responded. Space warped, pulled taut around the other. Scarcely so flashy as previous efforts, but this would put an end to whatever fiery posturing his foe could muster. But then, the threads simply…snapped.
They had grown weak so quickly, as if singed over a candle, and the magister was unprepared for the backlash. So tight they had been, so abruptly did they unravel, that Luminash felt a surge of heat rush through those threads and up through his fingers, a blaze springing up within. The grip of blazing fingers twisting through his chest forced the magister to the ground, teeth grinding from the pain.
“You… By the Sun, what have you…” the magister sputtered.
“I know what you are capable of. And I know better than anyone how to counter it. I am…” He stopped, then drew his lips tight, cutting himself off, “It will be over soon.”
His reflection raised a hand, his eyes focused on some point through his kneeling foe. Up his arm snaked shadowflame, and from his outstretched fingertips roared an inferno.
Through the pain, Luminash felt a chill, a soothing touch to calm the blaze. Whatever this other version of himself had become, there was something he lacked. Alone, Luminash feared he would not be able to overcome this mirror, but the ice now running in his veins – power shared both from afar and within, that corner of his soul tied together with Jaskian’s – could offer his foe something more unpredictable.
As the flames came down, fury and desperation, they met a wall of ice. The blackened and smoldering grass was extinguished by the burst of steam that followed, the cracking of the ice under the intense heat echoed from the hills around, and Luminash stayed firm.
In that moment, another weaving, another pull of the threads, and his other self was bound, wrapped in a prison of the very space around him, blazing eyes wide in shock.
Shakily, the magister stood, flexing his fingers as he secured his spellweaving. When he spoke, despite his wavering body, it was cold, precise.
“Return to your timeline. There is nothing here for you. I am…” The pair’s gaze met, and Luminash realized what his other self had been ready to say, “I am sorry.”
The hollow grew still and silent, with neither elf saying a word, the gift of clemency, selflessness in sparing a separate self, hanging in the air.
Apep was notorious for twisting mid flight to see if he could unseat his rider, there was something fun in listening to the elf squeak at him. Ziorea aware of his ways molded her body against him letting him spin around in the air. She hissed at him between her teeth. “They are watching us. If you want to explore the world with me, you are going to have to listen.”
He banked a hard right threatening to crash them into the capony of trees. Rider and drake soared with an eerie silence in the air. Both of them scanned between trees for their target. Shadows ran below them.
“There” She whispered into the wind. Apep should have not been physically able to hear his rider, yet he did. With a lift of her hands, fingers let go of the reigns trusting her drake to guide them. Fingers twisted and wove a spell snaring the running into place.
Curses were heard from the target as he was caught. The elf and drake halted the chase. A lazy circle flew back to the company.
“Might have to try something harder if you want to stump Apep.” Ziorea called out to the leader. “Far too easy” She grinned hoping she would be hired as their scout.
