(This is for yesterday’s prompt)
*cracks knuckles* This made me think of one of my mental back-burner stories. I shall move the pan to the front burners for this prompt.
Also this is ROUgh because I don’t ‘know’ these characters too well yet
I rubbed the heel of my hand against my eyes, maybe if I pressed them shut long enough, sleep would come around.
But even the moon seemed bright and awake. I watched it from my window, the sandstone dug into my elbows where they rested on the sill.
Nor did the streets below know any slumber. I could hear the guards on their nightly patrol around the walkways. And, beyond the palace, in the cities and marketplaces, the people would be feasting to proffer their good wishes for our upcoming union with Uryai.
For my upcoming union with the Uryian prince. Saints, give me strength.
“It’s not that I don’t like him,” I pouted, to no one but the night air. Night air that was cool when compared to the day— most certainly stifling to all of those northern emissaries.
I straightened, sweeping back golden hair from my face. I had talked so much to—more like at— my sisters just hours before, Abishai would’ve boxed me out of her room had I not left myself. I was excited for this.
A clatter of pots erupted from the palace grounds far below, I jumped, stepping away from the sill.
“Syv.”
I spun on my heels. In the open doorway stood Tekkyn, his brow drawn and fingers clenched to fists at his sides. Not like his usual serene candor. Not like it at all.
“What is— how did you get in?”
I received no response. Instead, he briskly started across the room towards me. I stumbled backwards, the sill behind stopped me, the stone surface pressed sharply into my legs.
“Syvhani, there is no time,” he said, seizing my arms. His accent was heavier than usual; consonants sharp, ‘r’s heavy. His skin nearly as pale as the moonlight—milk-pale, save for the sunburn across his nose.
I raised a hand and tried to pry loose his grip on my bicep, “what is going on?!”
The yellow eyes were narrowed, his fingers only tightened further, “we must hurry. do you trust me?”
“Yes! But you’re scaring me, Tekkyn! Would you please—“
Almost as if to answer me, someone cried out, the sound pealed through the window. A cry of pain. The soft clink of royal armor no longer sounded.
Panic rose, tugging at my limbs with a vicious energy, shouting, ‘move!’ in my ears all the while.
Heart pounding, my head snapped from the window, back to Tekkyn’s face, then back again. This was all wrong.
It sounded small, like it too rose up from the distant street, but it was my own voice, “yes, I trust you.”
Was the sill digging harder into my legs? A breeze lifted the hairs on the back of my neck.
I swung a hand out behind me, my fingers met only air.
“You won’t be too frightened?”
Nothing made sense, his words did not make sense. “N-no. I won’t.”
In the moonlight, a hurried smile tugged at his mouth, “now, don’t lie to me, Syv. I may not be human, but I’m not daft either—“
What?
Not human?
Heavy, running footsteps rang out from the hall, a sputtering torch painting the walls in warning red.
Before I could think, before I could even scream, Tekkyn firmly grabbed me about my waist and flung us both out of the window.
*cracks knuckles* This made me think of one of my mental back-burner stories. I shall move the pan to the front burners for this prompt.
Also this is ROUgh because I don’t ‘know’ these characters too well yet
I rubbed the heel of my hand against my eyes, maybe if I pressed them shut long enough, sleep would come around.
But even the moon seemed bright and awake. I watched it from my window, the sandstone dug into my elbows where they rested on the sill.
Nor did the streets below know any slumber. I could hear the guards on their nightly patrol around the walkways. And, beyond the palace, in the cities and marketplaces, the people would be feasting to proffer their good wishes for our upcoming union with Uryai.
For my upcoming union with the Uryian prince. Saints, give me strength.
“It’s not that I don’t like him,” I pouted, to no one but the night air. Night air that was cool when compared to the day— most certainly stifling to all of those northern emissaries.
I straightened, sweeping back golden hair from my face. I had talked so much to—more like at— my sisters just hours before, Abishai would’ve boxed me out of her room had I not left myself. I was excited for this.
A clatter of pots erupted from the palace grounds far below, I jumped, stepping away from the sill.
“Syv.”
I spun on my heels. In the open doorway stood Tekkyn, his brow drawn and fingers clenched to fists at his sides. Not like his usual serene candor. Not like it at all.
“What is— how did you get in?”
I received no response. Instead, he briskly started across the room towards me. I stumbled backwards, the sill behind stopped me, the stone surface pressed sharply into my legs.
“Syvhani, there is no time,” he said, seizing my arms. His accent was heavier than usual; consonants sharp, ‘r’s heavy. His skin nearly as pale as the moonlight—milk-pale, save for the sunburn across his nose.
I raised a hand and tried to pry loose his grip on my bicep, “what is going on?!”
The yellow eyes were narrowed, his fingers only tightened further, “we must hurry. do you trust me?”
“Yes! But you’re scaring me, Tekkyn! Would you please—“
Almost as if to answer me, someone cried out, the sound pealed through the window. A cry of pain. The soft clink of royal armor no longer sounded.
Panic rose, tugging at my limbs with a vicious energy, shouting, ‘move!’ in my ears all the while.
Heart pounding, my head snapped from the window, back to Tekkyn’s face, then back again. This was all wrong.
It sounded small, like it too rose up from the distant street, but it was my own voice, “yes, I trust you.”
Was the sill digging harder into my legs? A breeze lifted the hairs on the back of my neck.
I swung a hand out behind me, my fingers met only air.
“You won’t be too frightened?”
Nothing made sense, his words did not make sense. “N-no. I won’t.”
In the moonlight, a hurried smile tugged at his mouth, “now, don’t lie to me, Syv. I may not be human, but I’m not daft either—“
What?
Not human?
Heavy, running footsteps rang out from the hall, a sputtering torch painting the walls in warning red.
Before I could think, before I could even scream, Tekkyn firmly grabbed me about my waist and flung us both out of the window.
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I might start working on it again, so you might be seeing more of her in the future! (Yes, she's a she!)
