Feb 8, 2012
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One of my in-progress novels, INSIWB, just hit 1000 reviews tonight. A big tumblr shoutout thank you to all my FP friends, all my peer reviewers, gigglebug, especially, for hitting the 1000th review--everybody, seriously, thank you thank you thank you. This project that was supposed to be a bit of a joke ended up being one of my biggest extra-curricular obsessions. I'm freaking out so much that I can't even concentrate to edit the next chapter. Thank you thank you! T_T
love
love
love love love
love
is blood.
writing playlist for INSIWB Ch. 23
We're in Jude's POV so of course...
Comfort Me by Feist
Marked by EMA
The Killing Moon by Echo and The Bunnymen
Born Slippy by Underworld
Perfect Day by Lou Reed
Phantom II (Boyz Noize Unreleased Turbine) by Justice
Montana by Youth Lagoon
Xtal by Aphex Twin
Green Arrow by Yo La Tengo
Demon Host by Timber Timbre
Crimewave (Crystal Castles vs Health) by Crystal Castles
...repeat
Comfort Me by Feist
summermagic
summermagic; a short story written in the INSIWB universe that is not edited and freshly written while I should actually be writing on the real draft. Everything in it is subject to needing more detail and work on setting and working out the intricacies of a system of learning magic...as is the pathetic excuse for spells one would learn...it's also subject to change and may never be referenced once in the actual draft, yay boredum. Honestly, this was probably just written for Lurch and is a product of me being hyped up on Harry Potter for about a week. INSIWBers, read at your own risk, please do not think less of me, lol, etc. etc.
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It was the summer of the shapeshifter, where the dog whined and gave him away.
I heard about it later, the way one hears a rumor. But no one could catch him, as if he’d melted into our borough and disappeared.
The day’s afternoon humidity fogged glasses, and it pressed on faces and caused slick sweat. Yet, I remember the magic at market was cool, and how it turned a welcome breeze. I remember my floral dress, light and short, and how scandalous I felt, not wearing any undergarments. It was a breathless day, one where I felt I was always fighting.
The morning’s fight had been with my mother.
“To Estella’s,” she insisted.
So to Estella’s I went, knowing full well that if I went elsewhere, I would be missed and I’d have another fight to wage with her in the evening.
Oliver met me outside on the stoop, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his mother had cut his jeans at the knee. His magic spoke boredom. “Let’s go, then,” I said.
His face changed, and he jumped to follow me, excited.
“It’s too hot for lessons,” I complained as we crossed the cobblestones towards Alice Alley. It was haunted by a spirit named Alice, whose soul rejected Gaia. My magic agreed with me, a sigh in the sticky heat.
Oliver scoffed, “I rather like them.”
“Well, of course you do. You’re learning weapons with Charlie! It’s not fair.”
His magic shrank. “But Harriet, it’s fair, we have to learn how to protect you if a war—”
“What if…” but I stopped myself, as I always did. I tried not to think on war, of the things our Queen said. I was so young then, I didn’t like it when the boys brought their purpose closer to me, I didn’t like relying on them. I was a fighter. But only with words. Let them learn, my magic would say, and you can learn how to command them.
Even this young, Oliver would die for me.
“We’ll be late,” he said, “come on, then.”
He started to run, and I groaned, but followed. I was glad I’d just had my hair cut short for the season, but sweat still tickled my neck. We threaded through market, ducking, shuffling through bodies. When we neared the fountain, I saw we weren’t the only ones chasing time.
I glanced him out of the corner of my eye. It was prince Jude—dressed in his school uniform, his backpack slack on his shoulder.
I ran harder, hoping to beat him, my magic smirked.
Catching up with Oliver, we made it to the fountain and across to Estella’s with Jude at our heels.
All three of us stopped quick at the door, our breath labored, just as it opened.
Estella’s apprentice, Sadie, answered with a sweet smile. “Well, and I was wondering…”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, “let us in?”
Oliver went first, his magic pushing him through the building to out back. Jude and I were more reluctant, as we both studied under Estella. We removed our shoes with measured slowness. My magic wanted to feel kin to him, but his was always thinking, it hardly ever paused to care on anything. It had never greeted mine.
At least here, it was cool and a welcome relief to the outside heat.
Jude was behind with his studies by almost two years because he was marked, but recently I’d heard rumors they were going to push him into Charlie’s courses soon. Our next unit with Estella was the basics of dark magic in respects to objects, the like—I suppose they thought it less important.
There were only fifteen of us in my class. But with all classes included throughout the weeks and the different times, there were a little over one thousand of us practicing. Not everyone went to Estella and Charlie, but they were most skilled, and so were the quality of their apprentices.
Because I wasn’t marked, I’d never been outside of Arles. But I heard there were thousands more of us outside our neighborhood, those marked and un-practicing. I often wondered what it was like outside the borough. I glanced at Jude as we finished taking off our shoes, wondering if I’d work up the courage to ask him one day.
We approached circle, spread out in the large space, with candles reinforcing strength outside and inside. The other kids were already busy chatting in whispers. There were only two spots open, one next to Estella’s mauve pillow, the other beside that one.
Jude and I looked at one another.
Estella entered, and everyone tripped into silence. She was a commanding woman with an intimidating air, and as gray as my grandmother. Her magic was wise and understanding, and always at odds with mine. One of Estella’s most coveted talents was the ability to tolerate children.
She looked at me, ignoring Jude, which could be just as lethal. “Ah, Harriet, punctual as always. I haven’t worked directly with you in far too long. Sit.”
I hid my displeasure, and took my seat beside her pillow, stiff, my nerves on edge. I had contended with her magic in circle before, and I knew it thought me naughty and unkept. Jude’s—I’d never been his circle-mate before, but I’d heard stories, he was another least-favorite. I heard he never shuts up, but I never knew what that meant.
Just my luck for fighting with mother! It was Gaia’s punishment.
Estella sat quietly and smoothed her crimped orange skirt. She held up her hands. “Join.”
I clenched my jaw, gathering my magic to stay still and strong as I took Estella’s hand, and Jude’s—
I let out something between a pained squeak and groan, no match for either of them. Estella’s was controlled and frighteningly stoic, I thought it might blend into me and stay stuck forever, while Jude’s was the complete opposite. It was unhinged, and greeting my magic in a way that overwhelmed and caused my ears to ring. It scared me.
“Harriet!” Estella pinched.
There was almost no time to think on it, as we began prayer immediately.
Jude mouthed the words, his silence expected, and now understood. I always thought it strange, but now realized how difficult his magic must be to control, it was like it was fighting with him—constantly! And I knew now, if he spoke, it would tangle up in his words and find a way out.
Best to keep it contained.
When we released hands I took a deep breath, slumping, which earned me a whack on the back. “Sit up straight, Harriet!”
My eyes gathered with tears.
Gaia, it was like torture. I remember wanting my mother, and trying to stay strong.
“Memory—it’s a fickle thing. It can consume and destroy, as it does the vampire, make one quite happy, or make one consumed with sadness. There is no changing the past, and what is done. Time was given to us by Gaia to live wisely, to make wise choices, and above all, to give us the pleasure of growing and learning. These things are not to be taken lightly.”
As usual, my back started to ache.
“The vampire, which I know most of you do not hear beyond your horror stories, is nonetheless very real. It is an example of black magic obsessed with only one thing—recalling memory. They are cursed to reject time, and without time, it drives them mad. We must always respect what Gaia has given us, or we will lose what makes us witch.”
The lesson felt as though it would never end, and when we reached a point of practice, I found myself quivering with surprising determination. I could do this, I was a fighter. And I wouldn’t let a dumb boy beat me, no matter how much his magic tried to intimidate. He’d have to listen to me, anyway, one day—just because he was a prince, didn’t mean he wouldn’t take orders from Gaia’s chosen.
Estella instructed us on the skill of reaching into ones memories and projecting it on another. A small trick that could aid in telling someone where something is, or where they had been, even an experience—a trick my parents used when they sent me on playful scavenger hunts.
I could tell, when we were paired off, that Jude didn’t take the skill seriously, which for some reason, annoyed me.
We chose a dark corner of the sprawling open first floor.
Estella walked among our groups.
Jude sighed, and I tried not to stare at the W tattoo above his eyebrow.
“What do you want to see?” I said, stupidly, but with determination.
He shrugged.
My annoyance mounted as we sat in awkward silence. I felt Estella’s eyes on us, and stirred my magic to cast, fearing her wrath, but ready to prove myself to Jude. My first thoughts were on happy memories, recent ones, but then I thought I had a general one when Oliver asked me to come play just yesterday.
My language was not perfect, my magic took longer to weave with my movements, I had to think about it, like solving a puzzle. The magic had to fit into the right spots, it had to draw the right parts of my recollections.
My index circled once for Oliver and my middle, once for me. My whole hand once for setting, for activity, for wholeness. I touched his hand with only a moment’s hesitation, thinking I had it.
But—
No! It changed once I touched his skin, his magic took what I’d thought first about happy memories.
I turned red as Jude’s eyes reflected a distance, and then he started.
I remember feeling mortified, embarrassed, close to tears. What would Oliver think, if he knew? If he knew I’d shown the prince our childhood summer kiss!
Instead of laughing, he looked hurt, or worse, angry.
I cursed at my mistake, at myself for not focusing hard enough.
He smiled, suddenly. The smile suited him well, but it wasn’t innocent, or kind.
I watched his language, which moved quicker than mine, with more command. It threaded with the same eagerness it had when it greeted me, and when he reached to touch I flinched. “Don’t be afraid,” he mocked, and his magic was still in his voice, it lulled.
My jaw clenched with further annoyance, “I’m not afraid!” I said.
His touch was—cold, not like it was before, not in the circle, if possible it was—
Inhuman.
I was sitting in a chair towards the back of a room, and I was afraid, I was very afraid, and alone.
The door opened with a slam and I squeaked, outside it was dark and I heard wind in trees rivaling screams and magic that struck into the room with force and purpose before the witch appeared. My magic shrank, stay safe, stay safe!
He came in through the door first, dressed black, pale, familiar, his eyes witch and his movement vampire. Someone moved to strike him and he threw his arm out, his spell casting the attacker back across the room, where he hit the wall short of breath.
She came in behind him, her hair short like a witch, but her heart human.
“Search it!” she ordered.
He was gone, I heard someone scream upstairs.
I shook, and she saw me—then he returned to her.
“Not here, sweets,” he said, his magic causing familiar uncanniness to his tone.
She looked upset, and then I saw her hands move, her fingers threaded magic.
What magic! His—she was using his.
She threw the cast with more ease than myself—a flame sparked the curtain.
“Then we burn it, and keep moving,” she said.
As they left, he glanced back—
“Harriet! Harriet!” I shuddered and felt Estella’s magic pull me into her presence.
I was back at her school, I blinked confusion and took a deep breath. My magic was young, it clutched to me with intent to keep me safe. This time, Estella’s magic served as an anchor and I relished in its stoic strength.
Attempting to sit, I saw him.
“You!” I screeched, pointing, “it was you! What did you do to me? You’re vampire!”
“I didn’t do anything to you!” he said, “your magic—”
“Jude!” Estella ordered, her magic clipped his, and he stopped talking immediately. “Harriet, what did you see?”
I looked round at all the other students. “Nothing, I didn’t see anything important. It was just a vampire and a girl. That’s it.”
So I lied, and it worked.
It was the summer my fighting ended, and the summer the war touched me through Jude’s future.
