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31_days2010-03-01 07:30 pm
bane-6.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2010-03-01 07:30 pm
[Mar 1] [original] Shoes to Fill
Title: Shoes to Fill
Day/Theme: o1. Hunt for the liquid measure of your steps
Series: original (biker story)
Character/Pairing: Beth
Rating: PG
What am I doing? She asked herself for the hundredth time. She was not up to this. She was not special, she was not the chosen one. She had no powers, she was not a witch, no matter what the two had said.
Well, only one of them had said anything. The second had just stared, mouth a tight line, lovely face a mask of contained disgust. Their old third had gone power mad and destroyed her world and moved on to this and those were the shoes she was supposed to fill? Had to have a third, the one had said. These things happen in threes, best to fight them with three.
And that’s why they had sent a backwater kid into the maw of a tear in the world with nothing but a swiss army knife and a sack lunch and a handful of instructions.
Trust the foxes. Beware the wind. Don’t fall into the light. Follow the fire to the castle of clay. Simple, right? Wake the dead lord, and remind him of his wife. Nothing to it.
That’s why they had sent her, she realized. She looked like the witchqueen had years ago before the power and the queenliness. Just enough of a resemblance to get the attention of a half-demon and hopefully she hadn’t been sent to die in the queen’s stead. He would suspect the others. She was obviously so pathetic that he would not be threatened.
What was she supposed to do?? She was not powerful, she didn't know any magic at all. She was not beautiful or confident or insane. Yet, anyway.
The wind picked up and she ducked low, tempting as a breeze would be right now. The fire under the ground flickered through the cracks, and as soon as the air was still, Beth got back up and started walking again.
Day/Theme: o1. Hunt for the liquid measure of your steps
Series: original (biker story)
Character/Pairing: Beth
Rating: PG
What am I doing? She asked herself for the hundredth time. She was not up to this. She was not special, she was not the chosen one. She had no powers, she was not a witch, no matter what the two had said.
Well, only one of them had said anything. The second had just stared, mouth a tight line, lovely face a mask of contained disgust. Their old third had gone power mad and destroyed her world and moved on to this and those were the shoes she was supposed to fill? Had to have a third, the one had said. These things happen in threes, best to fight them with three.
And that’s why they had sent a backwater kid into the maw of a tear in the world with nothing but a swiss army knife and a sack lunch and a handful of instructions.
Trust the foxes. Beware the wind. Don’t fall into the light. Follow the fire to the castle of clay. Simple, right? Wake the dead lord, and remind him of his wife. Nothing to it.
That’s why they had sent her, she realized. She looked like the witchqueen had years ago before the power and the queenliness. Just enough of a resemblance to get the attention of a half-demon and hopefully she hadn’t been sent to die in the queen’s stead. He would suspect the others. She was obviously so pathetic that he would not be threatened.
What was she supposed to do?? She was not powerful, she didn't know any magic at all. She was not beautiful or confident or insane. Yet, anyway.
The wind picked up and she ducked low, tempting as a breeze would be right now. The fire under the ground flickered through the cracks, and as soon as the air was still, Beth got back up and started walking again.