Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The Djinn and the Vartija, part I

 Emrri

Have you ever had your cellphone ring at the most inappropriate of times? Like when you're in a library staring at the cutest guy in the entire universe and suddenly a wolf whistle breaks the silence and everyone (including the cutie) is staring right at you, and there is no way you could possibly get any more embarrassed then that.
Then you realize that they aren't staring because your phone rang, but because you've been set on fire.
Well this isn't exactly like that (I should know, seeing as that example was me...) but its pretty close.
Anyway, here's the scene;

Monster of the Week: Muritage Sosniak, exiled prince of the Dahl-Naq.
Weakness: Currently unknown, hopefully dust. Or rocks...
Threat level: Omicron
Evil Plan: #68. Destruction of my kind, starting with me. (Hey, what I am is not my fault.)

Hero: The one and the only... Emrri Kieryn. (namely, me.)
Species: Vartija
Powers: Taming of any creature (after I've safely bound it.), the ability to call any creature (which I've yet to learn how to control...)
Current equipment: Cellphone, ice pick, ballpoint pen, pocket watch (its my binding tool), and a tube of glitter glue.
Plan: Absolutely nothing at the moment, due to my previous plan failing.

And now that you know the teams, onto the Hunt...


Little Tamer, come out and play.”
I was frozen, not daring to even breath as the taunts continued above where I hid. Not that I had much choice, seeing as I was hanging by my fingertips to the edge of a cliff. At least it was a part of the cliff-face, albeit a small piece tucked under the actual cliff.
My strength was waning, I wouldn't be able to hide like this for much longer. But with Muritage on the cliff above my hiding place, to move would mean death.
  I hadn't decided what Muritage was yet.
At first I was leaning toward him being a nix; but after he set me on fire, I kind of had to scratch shape-shifting water sprite off my list. The only shape-shifting critter I could recall that manipulate fire were the kitsune, but that just didn't feel right. I was nearly certain that he was some kind of shape-shifter, and knew that he had an affinity for both water and fire. Which was really odd when I got to thinking about it. Water and fire didn't really mix well together. Typically a creature would only have one or the other.
He could be a halfling. That would explain the shape-shifting and the mix of elements—
A piercing wolf whistle broke the anxious silence of my hiding place and my train of thought. I fought back the urge to kick myself, deciding that remaining attached to the cliff was more desirable.
Why did I leave my cellphone on?
I glared at my pocket, willing the battery to suddenly die, or for the speakers to implode or something. Not that it mattered, my cover had been blown. I needed to get off this cliff side.
Since up was where I had last heard Muritage, down seemed the best option.
I quickly studied the rough rock below me, trying to plot the fastest course. I had scarcely started down when something slammed me into the cliff.
Heh, forgotten the first rule of the hunt?” A light, teasing voice tutted quietly. I felt his breath by my ear, followed by a comment uttered so softly, I nearly missed it. “Silence is your greatest weapon.”
Then he backed off; though still kept me pinned to the cliff. I could barely breath. One arm was trapped underneath me, while the other still clung to the cliff.
My phone was still ringing, which made me laugh. The weight on my back shifted, followed by a question.
Why would any sane Tamer bring such an infernal device on a hunt?”
Don't know, never met another of my kind. The ability to call critters isn't very handy if you can't turn it off, especially considering the types like you who would like nothing better then to wipe us out of existence. Or so I've read.” I tried to catch a glimpse of Muritage out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he had shape-shifted into his true form. His persona of a guy in his late teens wouldn't exactly be able to fly.
Disappointing, but a lone Vartija is better then an entire infestation. Any last words?”
I hated when they just skipped to the carnage.
Yes, quite a few actually. What are you? Some kind of shape-shifter, with affinity over water and fire... are you some kind of halfling, or just really weird?”
He laughed, a cold sound that lasted for only a second.
You haven't heard of my kind? That's magnificent, absolutely alluring. You don't know your own history.” I imagined him shaking his head with a superior smile.
What history?” I asked, “I'm just a girl trying to keep earth nice and comfy for humankind. The only history I have is in a single charred journal. And a list of overdue books about a mile long...” I caught a glimpse of chestnut hair as he leaned closer towards me, before it disappeared.
You truly have no knowledge of your species betrayal.” His voice had grown soft with disbelief. I nodded, which is really hard to do while pinned to a cliff.
He seized my left arm with one hand, then the pressure against my back vanished.
My arm screamed in agony as all my weight was place on it, and it took a couple of fuzzy seconds for my brain to realize that it was still attached.
Then he let go of my arm.
I fell, then agony tore though my left wrist as metal cut into it hit and stopped my fall.
I looked up and found my left wrist was chained to the cliff. With an actual shackle and chain.
That's new.” I grunted, blinking away tears. Having your body supported by a single wrist hurts. I blinked a few more times, trying to ignore blood trickling down my arm. Instead, I focused on the fact that Muritage was standing before me. Just standing on air. Nothing strange about that. I took a moment to study him.
His sleek, wavy chestnut hair just covered the tips of his ears. He had a very sharp face; high cheekbones, straight jawline, pointed chin. His eyebrows had a slight roundness that, along with his small forehead, helped to soften his face. Almond shaped amber eyes, and a hawk's nose. His dark olive skin helped to bring out a caramel color in his eyes.
He was dressed way too fancy for a hunt. Dark gray, double-breasted cashmere suit; a lighter gray silk shirt underneath, with a burgundy tie to finish the look of elegance. And did I mention the oxford shoes?
His mouth was turned up in a smirk. “Your species always was attracted to mine.”

No comments:

Post a Comment