(no subject)
Title: Not Home Anymore
Prompt Set: Various #2
Prompt: 059. Pride
Timeline
Around them, as they walked, the city hummed, buzzed, vibrated with life. The sun had only been up for an hour, and here in the lower city, most folk had been up for longer. Street-side merchants and those more established with shops of their own, traders, untrained street performers-not the trained artists to be found at the Academy-mothers and their children, men and women heading to their businesses, whores-as like to courtesans as those rough street performers were to the dancers and musicians of the Academy-all moving about around them, many with obvious foreign blood in them, and all typical of the lower city, which went to say that they followed no set mold at all. A few recognized Istrel as a courtesan, and gave her respectful nods, but just as many did not and jostled as rudely by her as anyone else. She hardly minded, as she and Kaytam made their way side by side through the crowded streets, treading carefully on the raised walkways at the side of the street to avoid getting the muck in the streets on Istrel's sandals or Kaytam's bare feet.
A street turned, rising as it did, and brought them a clear view of the brilliant blue water of the harbor, pure and deep as sapphire in the sunlight, beneath the late spring sky. Istrel's eyes skimmed briefly over the ships in the harbor, and those further out on the ocean with their triangular white sails, like child's toys in someone's bathwater from this distance. And then her gaze swept, inevitably, back to the street, and to the large, blank face of creamy stone that was the front wall of the main Academy building, dominating the street. She imagined that the building itself radiated cool hostility and disdain. That place used to be her home, a haven of warmth and comfort. Not any longer.
Automatically, Istrel's steps slowed and she began to fall behind Kaytam, bit by bit. Only when she had dropped back a good distance did Kaytam notice and turn to look at her with a frown. "Istrel, aren't you coming?"
Istrel had stopped completely, as if she'd walked up against an invisible wall. Kaytam had passed through it unhindered of course, unconscious even, but Kaytam was still of the Academy, and never had fully grasped the hatred and disdain most of the Academy directed at those who abandoned them. Those like Istrel. She put on a quick, reassuring smile (or at least a smile she hoped would serve that purpose) and gave a noncommittal shrug. "I have somewhere to go," she said by way of explanation. "Business to attend to." And she was not going to walk all the way up to the front door of the Academy and face her former classmates, former teachers, not under pain of death or threat of hell. She eyed that thick other oaken door for a moment with apprehension and a hint of mistrust before turning her attention back to Kaytam. "You can come by the house later, if you have time."
Almost as soon as the words were out, she regretted them, realizing that she didn't want Kaytam within several city blocks of the Ghost now staying in her home, but too late to take it back. Kaytam beamed and bounded back to Istrel to hug her and kiss her cheek. "Right then, Istrel-love. I will."
Like a feather caught on the breeze, she drifted away, half-dancing in her bare feet as always, effortlessly graceful, crossing the street and joining a group of girls at the front of the Academy building, students, some Istrel recognized. One of them had been a roommate of hers before she left. As she walked back down the street, she was certain she could feel the hostile gaze of Kaytam's friends at her back, hear the venomous whispers of whore, though no whisper could carry so far on the noisy streets of lower Dyimbur. She didn't need to hear it, though, to know, and perversely it only made her walk with her chin held a bit higher, a bit more of a saunter to her step. Let them wonder at that, if any of them noticed.
Prompt Set: Various #2
Prompt: 059. Pride
Timeline
Around them, as they walked, the city hummed, buzzed, vibrated with life. The sun had only been up for an hour, and here in the lower city, most folk had been up for longer. Street-side merchants and those more established with shops of their own, traders, untrained street performers-not the trained artists to be found at the Academy-mothers and their children, men and women heading to their businesses, whores-as like to courtesans as those rough street performers were to the dancers and musicians of the Academy-all moving about around them, many with obvious foreign blood in them, and all typical of the lower city, which went to say that they followed no set mold at all. A few recognized Istrel as a courtesan, and gave her respectful nods, but just as many did not and jostled as rudely by her as anyone else. She hardly minded, as she and Kaytam made their way side by side through the crowded streets, treading carefully on the raised walkways at the side of the street to avoid getting the muck in the streets on Istrel's sandals or Kaytam's bare feet.
A street turned, rising as it did, and brought them a clear view of the brilliant blue water of the harbor, pure and deep as sapphire in the sunlight, beneath the late spring sky. Istrel's eyes skimmed briefly over the ships in the harbor, and those further out on the ocean with their triangular white sails, like child's toys in someone's bathwater from this distance. And then her gaze swept, inevitably, back to the street, and to the large, blank face of creamy stone that was the front wall of the main Academy building, dominating the street. She imagined that the building itself radiated cool hostility and disdain. That place used to be her home, a haven of warmth and comfort. Not any longer.
Automatically, Istrel's steps slowed and she began to fall behind Kaytam, bit by bit. Only when she had dropped back a good distance did Kaytam notice and turn to look at her with a frown. "Istrel, aren't you coming?"
Istrel had stopped completely, as if she'd walked up against an invisible wall. Kaytam had passed through it unhindered of course, unconscious even, but Kaytam was still of the Academy, and never had fully grasped the hatred and disdain most of the Academy directed at those who abandoned them. Those like Istrel. She put on a quick, reassuring smile (or at least a smile she hoped would serve that purpose) and gave a noncommittal shrug. "I have somewhere to go," she said by way of explanation. "Business to attend to." And she was not going to walk all the way up to the front door of the Academy and face her former classmates, former teachers, not under pain of death or threat of hell. She eyed that thick other oaken door for a moment with apprehension and a hint of mistrust before turning her attention back to Kaytam. "You can come by the house later, if you have time."
Almost as soon as the words were out, she regretted them, realizing that she didn't want Kaytam within several city blocks of the Ghost now staying in her home, but too late to take it back. Kaytam beamed and bounded back to Istrel to hug her and kiss her cheek. "Right then, Istrel-love. I will."
Like a feather caught on the breeze, she drifted away, half-dancing in her bare feet as always, effortlessly graceful, crossing the street and joining a group of girls at the front of the Academy building, students, some Istrel recognized. One of them had been a roommate of hers before she left. As she walked back down the street, she was certain she could feel the hostile gaze of Kaytam's friends at her back, hear the venomous whispers of whore, though no whisper could carry so far on the noisy streets of lower Dyimbur. She didn't need to hear it, though, to know, and perversely it only made her walk with her chin held a bit higher, a bit more of a saunter to her step. Let them wonder at that, if any of them noticed.