First Post: Mead, Green Tea, and Pistachio...
Author: je
Title: Chaill
Story Continuity: Cryptomancy
Flavors: Olde English Mead 11: What's done is done, Green Tea 10: summer, Pistachio 10: lost
Rating: G
Word count: 521
Summary: Continued from the story on my lj. Our nameless child hero converses with the two strange people who have found him in the forest, starts a journey, and finds a name.
The badger shook his head sadly, and he seemed reluctant to meet my eye. “I promise you,” he said, “you will have all these answers and more. But now, we must make haste.”
I stood for a few long moments with my mouth opening and closing like a fish, searching for something to say. Still, before I knew it my feet had begun to obey the badger’s command, and I found that we were moving along once again.
I began to feel grateful for the swaying trees over our heads. The sunlight was filtered through the leaves and fell in patterns like stained glass at our feet as we walked, but even in those intermittent puddles of light, it was clear that outside the forest the heat was almost oppressive.
After a few moments, the badger spoke again. “I do not wish to be rude, so I won’t ask your name, but it would be beneficial if we had something to call you by.”
I opened my mouth to tell him my name, but was stunned to realize that I could not seem to remember it. “I…I can’t remember my name,” I said, as if this answered his question.
My two companions exchanged a glance of the sort adults forever think children are somehow oblivious to. “Temporary amnesia,” said the badger, in a tone that suggested he did not think any such thing.
“It doesn’t matter,” said the golden-haired gentleman. “I believe I shall call you Octavian. I favor that name.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“Fine,” he said, lifting his chin. “Then I shall take it for myself.”
The badger laughed, and I felt something inside me loosen at the sound. “It suits you,” he told the gentleman. “It’s wonderfully pretentious.”
“I ought to call you ‘furball’ or some such name.”
“You may call me Aiver, as you always have.”
“What sort of name is Aiver?” I asked.
He smiled. “An old one. And what shall we call you?”
I looked back over my shoulder, though I couldn’t say why. I didn’t expect to see anything, and I was not surprised. The way behind was green and sunlight dappled as the way before us. “I think my father’s name was something German.”
“I could call you German, but that’s rather prosaic, don’t you think?” said Octavian.
“I don’t think we ought to look back,” said Aiver. “You’re here now, and we’ll look forward.”
I shrugged. It made not a lick of difference to me whether I looked forward, backward, or not at all. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where I am.”
“I will call you Chaill, then,” said Aiver, and he seemed about to laugh. I felt embarrassment knot in my stomach and begin steadily to climb into my throat.
“What’s that?” I said.
Aiver smiled, and looked forward through the trees. “In my language, it means lost.”
I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t help but laugh. I was nothing if not lost. “I reckon that’s as good a name as any, then,” I said, as we left Heart’s-Desire behind us, painted yellow under the summer sun.
Title: Chaill
Story Continuity: Cryptomancy
Flavors: Olde English Mead 11: What's done is done, Green Tea 10: summer, Pistachio 10: lost
Rating: G
Word count: 521
Summary: Continued from the story on my lj. Our nameless child hero converses with the two strange people who have found him in the forest, starts a journey, and finds a name.
The badger shook his head sadly, and he seemed reluctant to meet my eye. “I promise you,” he said, “you will have all these answers and more. But now, we must make haste.”
I stood for a few long moments with my mouth opening and closing like a fish, searching for something to say. Still, before I knew it my feet had begun to obey the badger’s command, and I found that we were moving along once again.
I began to feel grateful for the swaying trees over our heads. The sunlight was filtered through the leaves and fell in patterns like stained glass at our feet as we walked, but even in those intermittent puddles of light, it was clear that outside the forest the heat was almost oppressive.
After a few moments, the badger spoke again. “I do not wish to be rude, so I won’t ask your name, but it would be beneficial if we had something to call you by.”
I opened my mouth to tell him my name, but was stunned to realize that I could not seem to remember it. “I…I can’t remember my name,” I said, as if this answered his question.
My two companions exchanged a glance of the sort adults forever think children are somehow oblivious to. “Temporary amnesia,” said the badger, in a tone that suggested he did not think any such thing.
“It doesn’t matter,” said the golden-haired gentleman. “I believe I shall call you Octavian. I favor that name.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“Fine,” he said, lifting his chin. “Then I shall take it for myself.”
The badger laughed, and I felt something inside me loosen at the sound. “It suits you,” he told the gentleman. “It’s wonderfully pretentious.”
“I ought to call you ‘furball’ or some such name.”
“You may call me Aiver, as you always have.”
“What sort of name is Aiver?” I asked.
He smiled. “An old one. And what shall we call you?”
I looked back over my shoulder, though I couldn’t say why. I didn’t expect to see anything, and I was not surprised. The way behind was green and sunlight dappled as the way before us. “I think my father’s name was something German.”
“I could call you German, but that’s rather prosaic, don’t you think?” said Octavian.
“I don’t think we ought to look back,” said Aiver. “You’re here now, and we’ll look forward.”
I shrugged. It made not a lick of difference to me whether I looked forward, backward, or not at all. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where I am.”
“I will call you Chaill, then,” said Aiver, and he seemed about to laugh. I felt embarrassment knot in my stomach and begin steadily to climb into my throat.
“What’s that?” I said.
Aiver smiled, and looked forward through the trees. “In my language, it means lost.”
I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t help but laugh. I was nothing if not lost. “I reckon that’s as good a name as any, then,” I said, as we left Heart’s-Desire behind us, painted yellow under the summer sun.