Post by Eurydice on Apr 3, 2008 23:08:23 GMT -5
((I had the first sentence of this for a long time. I'm glad my Iviran-obsessed muse finally decided to come back to grudgingly give me something for Riperian.))
Mene greeted the day with arms and wings outstretched. Her hair shone like polished copper in the lazy sun's first rays, peeking over the clouds.
In the house below, she could hear the servants stirring, starting breakfast. Mama and Papa would be up soon. Soon, the empty streets below would be writhing with activity, a flurry of arms and legs and wings and faces, all moving about the street like some clever, confusing dance, one that only half of them knew properly.
For now, though, Mene could sit perched on her windowsill, legs dangling out into the open air in an unladylike fashion. Cool breezes pressed her nightgown tight against her skinny legs, and she giggled at its quick, unbridled touch. She well remembered a time, not terribly long ago, when the sight of her at an open window would be enough to frighten her parents out of their wits, but she was thirty now, and while most of the other girls her age were still trying to grasp the basics of silly, easy healing glyphs, Mene had tested ahead of them and was going to study alchemy for real, starting on this glorious morning.
She let her head rest against the edge of the window with a happy sigh. She got to study for real, real alchemy with real effects, real magic, and she'd work so hard to become the best, and maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to use her magic to make her wings work properly.
In fact, it was more than a maybe. She would do that.
She'd have to work extra hard, study for really long hours, because there were, of course, many of other alchemists who were much, much older than she was, and some of them more clever, even, and none of them knew how to magic their wings into use. But she could figure it out.
That was how things worked. Mene had always known that. If you worked really hard at something and didn't give up, you could always figure out a way to do it. It was very simple. People who thought that this system didn't work were just lazy and gave up on things too easily. Failure only really happened when you gave up.
Mene wouldn't do that.
She heard the clatter of breakfast dishes on the table. With a squeal of glee-- her first day of real study!-- she writhed out of the window, pushed her arms through the sleeves of a clean tunic, and hurried downstairs.
Mene greeted the day with arms and wings outstretched. Her hair shone like polished copper in the lazy sun's first rays, peeking over the clouds.
In the house below, she could hear the servants stirring, starting breakfast. Mama and Papa would be up soon. Soon, the empty streets below would be writhing with activity, a flurry of arms and legs and wings and faces, all moving about the street like some clever, confusing dance, one that only half of them knew properly.
For now, though, Mene could sit perched on her windowsill, legs dangling out into the open air in an unladylike fashion. Cool breezes pressed her nightgown tight against her skinny legs, and she giggled at its quick, unbridled touch. She well remembered a time, not terribly long ago, when the sight of her at an open window would be enough to frighten her parents out of their wits, but she was thirty now, and while most of the other girls her age were still trying to grasp the basics of silly, easy healing glyphs, Mene had tested ahead of them and was going to study alchemy for real, starting on this glorious morning.
She let her head rest against the edge of the window with a happy sigh. She got to study for real, real alchemy with real effects, real magic, and she'd work so hard to become the best, and maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to use her magic to make her wings work properly.
In fact, it was more than a maybe. She would do that.
She'd have to work extra hard, study for really long hours, because there were, of course, many of other alchemists who were much, much older than she was, and some of them more clever, even, and none of them knew how to magic their wings into use. But she could figure it out.
That was how things worked. Mene had always known that. If you worked really hard at something and didn't give up, you could always figure out a way to do it. It was very simple. People who thought that this system didn't work were just lazy and gave up on things too easily. Failure only really happened when you gave up.
Mene wouldn't do that.
She heard the clatter of breakfast dishes on the table. With a squeal of glee-- her first day of real study!-- she writhed out of the window, pushed her arms through the sleeves of a clean tunic, and hurried downstairs.