LJ IDOL - WEEK 14 - Firebreak
Feb. 2nd, 2019 07:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
onecheapdateLJ IDOL WEEK: 14
PROMPT: FIREBREAK
Hi, everyone! I just wanted to add a little bit of context to this piece! Some of you have read/may remember my post from Week 7 (wow time flies) where I explored the idea of a supernatural story between a human girl and an immortal 'aurator' (someone with the ability to see people's auras and in charge of dispatching those who start to, essentially, turn evil.) I really loved the concept and planned to pursue it further, perhaps even into something novel-length one day (if I was ever blessed with the free time lol not likely). Here, I've revisited the characters. If you've read this blurb, it is absolutely NOT essential that you have read the first piece. This is self-contained and can be completely understood (and hopefully enjoyed!) as a stand alone piece. Thank you for reading and for any incoming feedback!
(I still owe replies from my last entry and they're coming asap! Last week was super busy - in a good way for once!)
Together, we leaned forward and peaked through one of the cracked front windows of the small, dreary shack. Inside, it was dark and empty, with a thick layer of dust settled across the wooden floor. To outsiders it would appear to have been long abandoned and in a complete state of disrepair, but I knew better. Peeking between the planes, I could see the faintest glimmer of warmth and life - a metaphorical ‘welcome’ sign to those only with eyes capable of seeing it.
“Come on,” I said, nodding towards the door.
Rachel looked skeptical, but she took a deep, steadying breath and pushed forward. Her aura snapped and crackled like a live wire as I pushed the heavy, wooden door open. Surprisingly, she grabbed for my hand as we entered. It was the first time she’d ever reached for me and I immediately realized that I relished the feeling of her delicate fingers searching for mine.
Unexpectedly, a whimsical chime overhead announced our arrival. I felt her stiffen beside me as we crossed over the threshold. I offered her a half-hearted smile of encouragement, but as usual, she wasn’t looking at me. Instead, her eyes widened in surprise as they darted around the bright room. She glanced behind us and then back forward, seemingly unable to believe the sight before her. The empty, desolate shack had transformed.
The space was warm and the heavy scent of vanilla and pine wafted through the air. The walls were covered in thick, braided tapestries of bronze and red thread and tiny bulbs of golden light hung from the ceiling on invisible strings, looking like dripping beads of dew. A small, square table sat in the center of the room with a plush, maroon chair situated on either side. A fireplace was nestled in one back corner, the flames from the lively hearth casting long, dancing shadows across the floor. And in the opposite corner, a tiny, hunched woman slowly descended from the second story, gingerly making her way down a wrought-iron, spiral staircase. I was immediately struck by her aura - so brilliantly white that I had to fight the urge to shield my eyes. It had a soft, hazy texture to it, making it seem as though she was enveloped in a globe of glowing gauze. Instinctively, my vision adjusted and as the brightness faded, I was able to better see the being within.
She was a small woman, though she didn’t appear frail. Her silver-grey hair was pulled back into a tight bun, with a few loose strands hanging down over her thin, wrinkled face. Her lips held the hint of a smile; her eyes deeply creased at the corners. Her expression was both welcoming and stoic, and there was a gentle wiseness that radiated from her.
When she reached the bottom landing, she greeted us with a deep bow and I returned the gesture, pulling Rachel down with me by the hand. By the time we straightened back up, the woman was already comfortably seated at the table; her long, weathered fingers clasped together against her chest.
“Sit down, child,” the woman whispered, the lilt of her voice soft and kind. She gestured her pointed chin towards the empty chair across the table. “Yes, come, come. Let me have a look.”
Rachel dropped my hand, but she didn’t move. Her aura was flickering ominously and coiled so closely to her body that it resembled more of a thick outline than it’s normal translucent glow. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to offer some physical gesture of comfort, but I held back. This moment was hers and it felt important not to interfere.
“Come on. I won’t bite.” The old woman’s smile widened as Rachel approached and then slowly lowered herself into the opposite chair. “There now. Ah, I can see you much better.”
When Rachel sank down into the empty seat, all of the hanging strings of light seemed to be pulled towards the center of the room, illuminating the table and suddenly leaving me hidden in the shadows. Bathed in darkness, my eyebrows crept up my forehead in surprise as I now saw, for the first time, the clouded, milky film that veiled the woman’s eyes. She was blind.
“My, my... you are a unique one. Well, tell me then, what can I do for you, dear? Don’t be shy. I’m sure you already know my services can be quite expensive, but I can work quite a wonder or two.”
Rachel pulled at the ends of her hair and then laid her hands flat on the surface of the table. She turned and glanced at me over her shoulder and I nodded my encouragement, pressing her on.
“Yes, I understand,” she whispered, her voice so soft that I could barely hear her from my place near the wall. I found myself leaning forward. “Ma’am, tell me, what’s the price of forgetting?”
The old woman seemed to consider the request for a moment, tapping one long finger against her cheek. Her unseeing eyes darted back and forth between Rachel and me for a moment before her face darkened and her lips pursed tightly together. She reached out and placed a weathered hand on top of Rachel’s.
“More than you can afford, I’m afraid.” Though her expression had hardened, her tone was still warm and gentle.
The spark of hope that had kindled in my chest was suddenly snuffed out and replaced by a heavy seed of disappointment. I thought that I’d come here with zero expectations. I thought I had prepared myself for the very real possibility that this road would lead to a dead end. I thought that I’d accepted the fact that some things we beyond fixing. And yet, the actual realization was crushing. It made my throat tighten and my heart squeeze. Rachel, however, sat up taller in her chair and raised her chin.
“How much?” she stammered, pulling her hand away. Her fingers curled into fists on top of the table. “How much to forget?” Her voice, though shaky, was louder now and tinged with such ferocious desperation that I found myself automatically taking a step towards her, my chest aching with the desire to protect her somehow. But a loud crack that only my ears could hear froze me in place. Her aura started to ripple out from her body in churning waves of grey and dark blue and sea green. It looked was as though she now sat in the eye of a storm.
The old woman sighed heavily and closed her unseeing eyes. “You know not the weight of what you ask, child.”
“You know not the weight of what I carry,” Rachel shot back. “You know not the cost I continue to pay. Surely, what you require is cheaper than what I will eventually lose if you do not help me.”
Silence swallowed up the room and I instinctively held my breath. Time seemed to stand still, the three of us frozen in the moment. Even Rachael’s ever churning aura seemed to quiet, respecting the room. The two women seated at the table seemed to be sharing a silent conversation, one that even my perceptive ears could not pick up.
After a few moments, the old woman opened her clouded eyes and tilted her head.
“You know the price.” She said finally, her tone melancholy, but matter-of-fact. “It can be done.”
My eyebrows knit together in confusion. I felt like I had missed something. My thoughts however, were broken, when Rachel suddenly shot up from her chair, her hands clasping together beneath her chin. She slowly turned to me, her green eyes glistening. We stared at each other for just a few seconds, but it was long enough for my mouth to go completely dry. I simply nodded.
“Thank you,” she said turning back to the old woman and dropping her hands. “Thank you.” And then she was running to me, her arms wrapping around my middle before my brain could even register what has happening. Automatically, I stiffened, the feeling of a warm embrace something so utterly foreign to me that I didn’t know how to respond. I cleared my throat and awkwardly patted the top of her head.
The old woman audibly sighed as she rose from the table.
“I’ll need time to prepare. But, you should leave now, dear. I’m quite tired and I require my rest for what is to be done. Return in three days, at nightfall.”
Rachel released me and thanked the woman again. Then she practically skipped (skipped!) out the door. I was still reeling from the events that had just transpired and I found myself numbly turning to follow, my head dazed.
“Reaper.”
I was startled by the woman’s voice as much as I was by her useage of the unsavory title. Prior to this moment I wasn’t entirely sure she’d even been aware of my presence in the room at all, though upon reflection, ever entertaining such a thought seemed incredibly foolish.
“Yes?”
“She’s turning.”
“I know,” I answered sharply.
The old woman’s expression was strangely sympathetic as she frowned and shook her head.
“How unfortunately tragic,” she whispered, her voice thick with genuine emotion.
“But you said you can help her.” My eyes narrowed suspiciously, an ominous feeling settling into my chest.
“I can help her, yes. But I can not fix her. And the price will be hefty.”
I watched Rachel from the doorway. She was out in the street, spinning in circles with her arms extended at her sides. Her aura splashed out in all directions like a bright beacon of technicolor light.
“What do you mean,” I asked, crossing my arms.
“An experience from her past, it plagues her. It’s the cause of her corruption. The point of impact. The place where the darkness is originating from. It isn’t any of the normal kinds of traumas most mortals may experience. No, no. It’s not even something she herself can explain. Something hateful from our world tampered with her. But, she’s unique. Special. Unfortunate.” The woman slowly shook her head the entire time she spoke, her thin, greying brows furrowed.
“Well, what will you do?” My voice sounded timid and foreign to my ears. I realized I was dreading her answer.
“Her soul and her mind are being corrupted. The darkness is spreading on the inside. Quickly. Like flames in a dry, dense forest. And so, I must fashion a firebreak of sorts. Slow it down. Contain it. I’ll remove a chunk of her memories. The ones in the middle. It will be like carving out a large ditch. The origin of the darkness, the spark where it all began. It will be left on one side. It will buy her more time, but it won’t snuff it out completely. Eventually, it will swell and rise and begin to consume her again. But, she’ll have more time.”
“Her memories?” I echoed. I’d listened to every word extremely carefully, but my brain had latched onto those specifically. “How much will she forget?”
“The price,” the old woman said, bowing her head, “is high. She accepts this.”
“Will she forget… me?” The words didn’t leave my lips fast enough. I hesitated for a mere heartbeat and the woman was gone. Vanished. The room behind me was suddenly cold and dark and empty. A breeze blew in from the open door and a swirl of dust danced around the now barren, wooden floor.
A trickle of despair rolled it’s way down my spine. Glancing out into street, I saw Rachael waiting for me. She was rocking back and forth on her heels and looking up into the night sky. She was grinning the most wide and brilliant grin, and her aura sparkled like a curtain of stars. It was the most beautiful sight I’d ever witnessed in all of my many, many years and it filled me with a burst of warmth I knew I might never feel again.
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Date: 2019-02-04 04:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-02-05 09:55 pm (UTC)