Elixir Part 1
This story originally was only 3,000 words back in 2002 when I wrote it for an assignment, but as I went over that rather skeletal framework these last few weeks it grew and is still growing. The point of view also split between the two main characters, which mirrors a number of authors I’ve been reading lately. To make the jumps in pov easier for the reader to follow I’ve marked each switch with the first initial of the character’s name. These posts won’t quite fit as ‘chapters’ especially with the jumping so I’ve decided to call them parts instead. The number of parts it’ll be is still unknown as I’m still working on it.
A
As dark gray clouds loomed above, threatening to unleash their downpour, a lone figure ran. Her thin legs pumped furiously as she charged blindly ahead. She tripped for the fifth time, her foot snagging on an exposed root, but she refused to stop at the pain blooming in her knees and palms from the rough landing. Stopping meant death, she knew. She didn’t bother to glance back as she scrambled back upright either, knowing they were still pursuing. A flash lit the night sky, briefly illuminating the dark stone fortress ahead, its wall of thorns deterring visitors that were somehow unaware of the resident within. Thunder rolled across the hills, drowning out her hammering heartbeat. Death likely stood ahead of her as surely as it chased behind, but a slim chance was still better than none. As she barreled forward she spied a small opening in the thorns and quickly adjusted her course. The opening was barely big enough for her scrawny frame to squeeze through, but she ignored the slicing thorns as they cut her skin and clothes. She collapsed as soon as she made it through and tried to calm her racing heart so she could hear more than the blood rushing in her ears.
M
Wet, hacking coughs wracked his slender frame as he slipped on his robes. Something had woken him from his fitful slumber and he doubted it was the storm outside. He waved his hand towards the tallow candle on his desk and it sprang alight, its glow softly illuminating the path through the stacks of books and scrolls towards the window. He gazed out into the darkness, searching for the cause of his wakefulness. Dozens of orange flames bobbed along the hills, heading towards his sanctuary. Lightning flashed, exposing the dark forms carrying the flames and the lone figure running ahead. He watched the figure trip, yet it refused to stop its mad dash towards his fortress. Foolish though it was, he silently praised the figure for its determination. He turned his attention to the approaching mob, irked at their impudence. Chanting a quick spell, he hurled balls of flame and bolts of lightning down in front of the intruders. Though mere illusions, the spell was effective and the torch wielders scattered in panic. With the mob fleeing, he closed his eyes to magically find the mob’s prey. Surprise filled his gaunt features as he opened his eyes. He sensed nothing. Curious, he picked up the candle on his desk and transported himself down to the area he’d seen them running towards.
He took in the figure before him. Their stained ragged clothes were in tatters from the thorns and numerous cuts leaked blood all over their scrawny limbs and torso. Long dark hair hung damp and matted over their face, obscuring its features. Dangling from their neck was the answer he sought, an intricate silver amulet, its sapphire stone catching the candlelight as it swung gently on its leather cord. A locator shield, rare magic indeed, and surprising to find in the possession of one not learned in the arcane arts. His fingers itched to take it, but he refrained, knowing that such an amulet was impossible to remove from the wearer by force. Even if he killed this trespasser, the amulet would not relinquish itself to him, such was the strength of its magic. A gasp tore his attention away from the amulet. Startling blue eyes stared at him from a muddy face. He watched the figure back away in fear only to remember the thorns behind them. Thick raindrops began to pelt down on them as he reached out his hand. Not because of kindness, he’d long since decided to abandon such feelings, but because he desired answers and perhaps the amulet as well.
A
She stared at the outstretched hand as she trembled before the robed figure. She saw no kindness in the void-like eyes as they stared into her own. Still, to refuse would surely invite his wrath so she reached out and took the hand. In an eyeblink they were in a warm study. She glanced about, taking in the towering stacks of books and scrolls that crowded the small space. A huge desk filled one corner of the room, stubs of candles melted along its back. So similar to her mother’s study growing up that tears sprang to her eyes. A frightful cough drew her from her memories and she watched the robed figure’s slender frame heave and tremble. She began to reach out in spite of her fear, but a quick glare had her shrinking back.
“Do not touch me,” he snapped, though it had less bite to it than she imagined he wanted it to. His dark eyes narrowed as he straightened. “You will bathe,” he commanded, “come.” He strode out the study without another word. Not having bathed in weeks, she saw no reason to argue and followed him along the softly lit corridors. She was surprised how warm and welcoming this foreboding fortress was inside as she took in the rich tapestries lining the walls and the plush rugs beneath her feet. The room he led her to was dark until he waved his hand. Dozens of candles lit at his command around an inlaid pool which was quickly filling with steaming water and bubbles. The tiles glittered in the wavering light looking like cut gems of sapphire, emerald, and amethyst. Her reluctant host left her with a curt comment that he would return in an hour. She barely processed it as she stood mesmerized by the luxury before her. Shaking herself from her daze, she approached the pool, striping off the remains of her dress. She hissed as the water touched the numerous cuts on her body, but soon sighed in relief as the warm water soothed her aching muscles.
After a long soak had her muscles loose and relaxed, she turned her attention to the various items nestled amongst the candles. Bottles with labels adorned with flowing handwriting had her grateful she had been taught to read before her mother’s untimely death. She selected one of the many sponges and poured a dollop from a bottle onto it. The gentle scent filled the room and reminded her of the lilacs that had bloomed outside her bedroom window every spring. With happy memories surrounding her, she began to tackle the grime coating her hair and body.
Finally clean for the first time in days, she reluctantly left the pool. A soft towel lay on a bench along the wall and she dried herself off with it. A dark blue robe was neatly folded beside it, twin to the one she had seen him wearing. Seeing no other option, she slipped it on. It was far too big for her smaller frame, but instantly adjusted itself. A pair of slippers were found tucked beneath the bench and she found they too accommodated to her size as soon as she slipped them on. Dressed and clean, she sat on the bench and attempted to brush the tangles out of her hair as she waited for her host to return.
M
He sat at his desk, a large tome open before him. He found himself unable to focus on the swirling text and gave a huff of annoyance. Instead his mind insisted on staying focused on the guest currently using his bathing pool. An hour he had given the unwanted pest. An hour to cleanse the caked on grime that coated every inch of its body. He could not even tell the biological gender of the gangly creature. A child perhaps given its small frame and slight build. Its long hair implied female, but as his own reached down to his waist, he dismissed it as inconclusive. The candle on his desk flared, alerting him that it was time to return to the pool and see what information he could gather from his guest.
Entering the bathing chamber, he noticed the pool lay empty, the bubbles gone and the clear water visibly darkened. He found his guest sitting on the bench dressed in his robe and slippers. He took in the now straw colored hair, the delicate features of their heart-shaped face, and the slight curves beneath their robe. Female, he noted, though likely undernourished and stunted as a result. Food would be the next requirement he decided. Then perhaps she would be more willing to answer his questions. He watched her sway slightly as she watched him, her eyes hooded. Food and rest, he amended, then answers. He motioned for her to follow and led her back into the corridor.
Though he did not have guests, his home still had a guest bedroom, which he led her to without a word. Once inside, he waved a hand at the bedside table and a platter of meat, cheese, and fruit appeared. The small gasp behind him had his lips twitching upward. He kept the items sliced and ready in his kitchen for convenience, but she did not need to know he had not magicked the food into existence. The pitcher beside the platter filled with golden liquid. A cider he made himself from the small apple orchard he had tucked away on a section of his property. Instead of sharing this information, he merely bid her to eat and rest, stating he would return in the morning. She barely had time to thank him before he closed her door. He magicked the lock so she would not wander and headed for his own bedroom. He knew he should use the time to study the tome on his desk, but with his new guest taking up all his thoughts he decided rest would be more productive.
A
She stood momentarily dazed as the door shut behind her, a soft click indicating she was likely locked in. A prisoner perhaps, but the surroundings were far from a dungeon. Dark wood chairs draped in rich velvet fabric of crimson and gold offered a comfortable place beside the cheerfully crackling fireplace. A bookshelf was tucked on a wall nearby, its leather bound contents silently asking her to curl up and lose herself in their tales. A doorway in the far corner had her curious and she went to investigate. A small wash area and a place to relieve herself were tastefully decorated in turquoise and silver. She turned back to the main room and took in the remaining piece of furniture. A massive bed, with four corner posts carved like twisting vines that curved up to connect in the center like a tent. Sheer curtains of golden fabric were tied open, revealing the crimson bedding. Cautiously, she sat on the bed beside the platter of food. The bed was incredibly soft, ready to practically swallow her up in its cloud-like plushness. Definitely the nicest prison imaginable she decided, selecting one of the slices of dark yellow cheese.
The food was far richer than her recent fare and she took care not to eat too quickly. She poured herself another glass of cider, relishing the feeling of fullness. Though her host had seemed cold and was rather terse with her, she had to admit he had seen to her every need quickly and in the most lavish way imaginable. She wondered how many of the rumors about him were simply a way for him to protect his solitude for he had not once raised a hand to her or used his magic to do more than cater to her needs. The difference between this supposed monster and the cruelty she’d experienced from the villagers was staggering. Fighting another yawn, she finished her glass and readied herself for bed. Slipping beneath the sheets, her body was quickly cocooned in comfort and sleep claimed her swiftly.
Continue Reading: Part 2
I value feedback no matter how critical so don’t be shy with your criticisms, critiques, and comments. Does the switching pov help or hurt this story so far?
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I'm intrigued! I think the POV changes are timed well and allow the story to unfold almost like a dialogue between the two characters, each with their own part of the story to reveal. I was initially a little confused when "she" became "they" in the next scene, though that was eventually explained. Hope you had a happy birthday and thanksgiving! Congrats on the printer :-)