Friday, February 28, 2014

Prompt: The Spell

Thanks to Sara Helwe for permission to use her beautiful image, “The Spell”!

Salafiera ignored the delicate morphos fluttering around the table, doing their best to cheer her. Karzin was always giving her things, making amends. He didn’t realize that every thing he made small broke her heart a little more. She didn’t want them smaller, she wanted to be larger. Her own size. Human.

Karzin believed if he waited long enough, everyone Salafiera had known and loved would be gone, and she would love him. It had become his unshakeable faith, though Salafiera had never given him any reason to believe it. But faith wasn’t based on reason, she thought with a grimace, closing her book and gently brushing a morpho from her shoulder.

She looked around the table, where she stood on a stack of books, lit with candelabras as the sun faded behind heavy damask curtains across the room. It would take Salafiera most of the night to climb down the table and walk across the floor to the windows. Sweeping aside the long velvet train of her gown, she walked to the edge of the table, and softly whistled.

Grishl flew from his perch near the window and landed before her, bowing his head. She stroked his soft feathers and climbed onto the wren’s saddle. When he flew back to the broad window ledge, she dismounted and stared out at the setting sun, idly stroking his soft cheek patch as he trilled under her hand.

“If you would caress me like that, I would do anything you wished.” Karzin’s voice made her stiffen, and Grishl butted his head against her hip in alarm.

She steeled herself to turn around, cautioning herself against hope but refusing failure. “You know what I want, Karzin,” she said firmly. “That will never change.”

He stood in the doorway, and for a moment, the sadness that crossed his face did give her hope. Then he, too, stiffened, bowing formally. “Then neither shall you, minutina. Good night.” He closed the door behind him.

Grishl gave a harsh chit, and Salafiera stifled her laugh at his brave posturing. “I agree, Grishl. We must find our own way, then. Let’s return to our research, shall we? Karzin must not discover that I can read his spell texts as well as his insipid poetry…”

Dogs in House

Nora Jones, Come Away With Me

Time writing
25 minutes

February word count

1 comment:

  1. Writing report:
    Novel editing, Ch22, Ch24

    Time: 15 min