A picture says a
thousand words. Write them.
Mission: Write a #story, a description, a poem, a
metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about
this picture.
Be sure to tag #writeworld in your
block!
http://writeworld.org/post/104971928131/writers-block-a-picture-says-a-thousand-words
The city of Vane. He had been told
it was a city of magic but he had misunderstood. Or perhaps it was just outside
of his experience; he had never been to a place like this before. He stood on
an external balcony of one of the higher buildings. And here height was
determined by actual elevation of the building, not the number of levels in a
building.
But one floated above all the
others. It wasn’t as large or as fancy as some of the others. It intrigued him.
They had literally separated their floating platform from the rest of the city.
It hovered so far above the rest of the city that it resembled a water lily,
striking out of the pond altogether to a new plane. Was it arrogance? Or did
they have some other reason?
“You ready?” his host asked.
He looked at the man, dressed in
an elaborate cloak with a matching high collar that covered all of his neck.
Under the gown he was naked to the waist, the latest fashion, his legs in close
fitted leggings and boots to just below the knee. It looked like an outfit for
a horseman but such things didn’t exist in this world. Nor did the concept of
physical work; at least for the upper ranks. Their powers relieved them from
doing physical work. He was surprised that his host, Brax, had a body as
muscular as he did.
Looking with his deeper vision,
his ribbed abdomen was now flat and the chest more sunken. Ah. Brax used magic
for glamour. Brax must be powerful to have the excess mana to waste, or
narcissistic enough not to care. He had worked for his muscles.
“Which family owns that building?”
he asked, as he pointed at the highest floating island.
A flash of irritation crossed his
face, before Brax cleared his throat. “That sad little habitation belongs to
the Hockets although there are only two remaining.”
When Kayseri did not reply, he
continued, “Look at it... no domes, no glass or spires... just sad little
conical roofs like we used to build centuries ago... they should be forced to
update it.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t fit with the rest of
the city.” He huffed out a breath and folded his cloak over his chest. He acted
as if it was personally insulting. “It’s a relic.”
So rank was also demonstrated by
the decoration of your home? Perhaps they did not have the funds, or would not
waste the mana. Or perhaps they just didn’t like to associate with everyone
else?
“I quite like it,” Kayseri said.
“You would.” He spun with enough
force to make the cloak hem flare. “We have a meeting.”
******
Kayseri tried to keep track of the
route they took to the central dome but it was too complicated. they waited at
the back of a crowd of people until the meeting reached a point where matters
not listed on the agenda could be raised. Brax had to introduce his distant
cousin; he should not be in the city without permission.
Kayseri was ordered forward to
stand in front of a rank of senior mages.
“Who’s this?” an ancient man
asked.
“Kayseri of the Kudal clan,” he
introduced himself.
“Is there a problem, Lord Hocket?”
the chair asked.
A croaky chuckle. “He’s here... I told
you he was coming.”
This statement caused a major
ruckus.
As everybody talked over the top
of each other and made it impossible to hear whatever the old man was saying, a
young woman stepped forward and stood right in front of him.
He tilted his head to scan her.
She was magically powerful; it radiated from her if you knew how to see it.
She didn’t greet him. She didn’t
speak. She didn’t shake his hand. She flung her arms around his neck as if he
was a long lost lover and she kissed him full on the lips. The reaction from
his body was immediate.
He kissed her back and it felt
familiar although he did not know how it could. They had never met. His arms
wound around her back and held her flush against him.
His mana flared and it set off a
similar reaction in her. Waves of magic streamed off them both.
When his head drew back they were
both breathing heavily.
“Aphenia Hocket,” she said.
“Hello.” He almost crooned it.
“Can I call you Kay?” She pressed
her groin into his and he bowed her back to push it further against him.
“No.”
She laughed. “Kayseri it is,
then.”
“Who, or what am I?” he asked her.
“You are my life partner.”
“I gathered that.” Plenty of women
had been in his life but none had sparked that mana reaction before. And Lord
Hocket had clearly had some kind of premonition; a rare magic indeed.
“And you are our saviour,” she
added.
“I’m too selfish to be a saviour.”
“To put it another way, your
appearance will herald a new era of magic.” She brushed some hair back from his
forehead.
“One where people don’t waste mana
on better abs?” he whispered. It had the added bonus of placing his lips near
her neck so he kissed it.
She let out a delighted laugh.
“Exactly.”
He decided her laugh was its own
kind of magic. He looked up to realise the entire room had fallen silent and
was watching them.
As he glanced across the crowd,
they all sank to the floor in a low bow. Brax was one of the last to do so. He
would remember that.
He was very glad that he had taken
notice of the persistent dream telling him to go to the city of Vane. Things
were about to get very interesting.
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