Fanfic: Faded Sun
[edited version, 2009]
I have to say I am quite surprised I wrote this, but now that it's done... the truth is that I actually like this fic. ^^ I really haven't been into fanfiction for some time... (which reminds me, there's that one fic I really should try to finally finish.) As usual, inspiration struck around the time I went to bed. And here I was thinking I might for once get to sleep early... (finished writing around 2 am. Typical.)
I considered posting this to ff.net, but then remembered there is no C. J. Cherryh category there (!), so I thought I'll just put this here. (Though I guess I could just post this on misc. books or something...) Well, at least this journal will not feel so neglected anymore. : / I'm not sure what's the point in posting this here, though, for as far as I know none of you has read this book, but... *shrug* So what.
So, here it is, spoiler-free, takes place before the book, and in the case someone's wondering, it's kind of scifi, takes place in a world called Kesrith, and these people are not humans but a race called mri (humanoid, look something like this in those robes of theirs.)
[edit] I just came up with a title. Shon'ai.
To understand the mri, one must understand shon'ai, the Game of the People, the passing-game. The Kel play shon'ai with knives while other mri play with wands or stones. To be mri is to play the Game, its player-to-player, hand-to-hand passing rhythm "as old as time and as familiar as childhood." To play the game is to cast oneself -- one's fate -- forth from the hand, to let go, to make the leap forward freely, and without fear.
~*~
Shon'ai
Melein s'Intel walked briskly down the hills toward the road and the edun. She was in a happy mood this day, though not for any particular reason - it was simply a good day. She cherished this feeling; the past days had been angry and sad, and she was tired of them. The sun had not yet reached the zenith and its heat was tolerable, and the colors of the world were bright in its light. She had watched the edun for a long time from the hills, blatantly ignoring the regul city that was also in her view, and it had been beautiful in her eyes, the tiny little dot on the vast almost-white land that it was.
She had thought about walking further in the hills, now that she for once did not have any obligations, but then Pasev had found her and told her that the she'pan wanted to see her. There had been something sad, something quiet in the old kel'e'en's eyes as she told this to Melein, but then again, Pasev was always quiet and melancholy these days, and Melein decidedly did not let this to bother her. Still with a light heart she had left to see the Mother.
As she approached the edun her eyes stopped on the tower of Kath, and the smile faded away. The tower was empty, abandoned, all who had belonged to the caste of the Kath were gone. She did not dwell on this often; it bothered her, as did the fact that there was nothing she could do about it. She was herself one of the last, and she remembered well how she and her brother and cousins had played shon'ai in that same tower. She could still hear their childish voices as they threw the stones to each other in the rhythm of the ancient chant.
(Wind-child, sun-child, what is Kath?)
That thought brought other memories to her mind, of a ship that had just carried away the last of her cousins, of that cousin himself, of a fight with her brother… Suddenly she felt her good mood slipping away, falling through her fingers like sand of the desert.
She found herself longing for those past, carefree days, days the three of them had been all but inseparable. Now, Medai was gone, carried away in to the distant war, and she and her brother… one couldn't quite say they were estranged, but they weren't on the best terms, either.
She picked up a small stone from the ground, fingered it thoughtfully, tossed it away. A similar stone as the ones they had used, back then. She still played the game, at times, but not with stones anymore. In the Kel hall they used small blades instead.
Her fingers touched the scars on her cheek. It had not been many years since she had received them, and she was still proud. But there was sadness in her pride. She was now the youngest of the Kel of Kesrith - and always would be, most likely. She shot a distressed glance toward the empty, childless Kath tower.
(Child-bearers, laugh-bringers, that is Kath.)
She had just reached the entry when she saw movement in the corner of her eye. A black-robed figure, just like herself, approached from the plain. This one was wearing a veil too, but Melein would have known her brother's gait anywhere, and after hesitating a moment she stopped to wait for him, suddenly eager to make peace with him again, not to be alone with her thoughts and worries. All others in the Kel were old, old men and women, and although she did love them, she missed the company of her brother.
Niun reached her, unveiled, and gave a small, tentative smile in greeting.
"Trying to get a dus for yourself again?" she asked in all innocence.
Niun shrugged, a careless gesture in which Melein still saw relief. Relief that she was again making fun of him. "There were some on the plain," he said matter-of-factly, and now Melein smiled.
"There often are. Though it's a miracle they haven't left yet, what with you constantly bothering them."
Niun just shrugged again, and they walked inside in silence.
"The she'pan wants to meet me," Melein said after a while.
Niun nodded. "I might come to see her myself," he started to say, but Melein shook quickly her head.
"I think it's personal," she said, the membrane in her eyes flicking in annoyance as Niun cast her a sidelong, knowing look.
"I haven't done anything! At least I don't think so…"
Niun held his smile in check and nodded. "Will you come to meet me in the Kel hall afterward? You can tell me then what you have not done."
She declined from answering and gave him instead one of his shrugs.
"I might," she said after a while, when they parted.
(Fire-child, star-child, what is Kel?)
When she climbed up the stairs she thought of dus, of those great beasts that were native to Kesrith, unlike mri, unlike regul. She understood well her brother's eagerness to hold one as his own - shared it, in fact - but she also knew that it was useless to try to coax one. They chose their own masters, these half-sapient beasts of the plains, at their own time. And so Melein made fun of her brother's attempts. He was kind enough to ignore it and not return the favor. For some reason all dusei, wild and tame alike, avoided her. She sighed as she thought of this. She knew, of course, that not all of the Kel ever acquired a dus, those of the other castes, never. It seemed appropriate to her that these magnificent beasts would choose only warriors. And maybe, among them, only the greatest ones?
She was determined to have a dus following her some day. If only she could go to the war… maybe then. She knew she was still too young, but the war had been going on almost twice her lifetime and showed no signs of ending - certainly it would wait for her.
(Sword-bearers, song-weavers, that is Kel.)
She had reached the room where the she'pan waited for her, and to her surprise she saw that the kel'anth and the sen'anth, leaders of Kel and Sen, were in her company.
She stopped to give her respects, but the she'pan Intel stopped her.
"Come, come here, child. Sit," she said, and Melein came and sit down by the old woman's chair.
Old… she thought with a sudden pang of sadness. She was old, the Mother of the People.
"You called for me, she'pan," she said and looked down, so her eyes would not betray her thoughts.
"Yes…" The she'pan reached down and placed a finger on her chin, lifting her face up again. Startled, Melein tried to hide her confusion, to keep her membrane from flicking, which it did nevertheless.
"How have you fared these days, my daughter-not-of-the-flesh? I have seen you but a little."
"I am sorry, she'pan. I have been busy with my training."
The she'pan nodded. "I know. You have trained much and diligently, and are becoming skilled in the arts of Kel. This is good… even those skills can be useful for you in the end."
Melein flinched of surprise at she'pan's words, and was annoyed at this lack of restraint.
"What do you mean, she'pan?" she asked, and bent then quickly her head down. "If I may ask."
The she'pan watched her a moment, kindly, but Melein had learned that there was steel behind her kindness.
"The times are hard," she finally said, "and they will get only harder. Our edun is small, and this will not change for years to come. Our Kel number twelve, Sen but one, and Kath are no more." She fell silent for a moment, and Melein stared at her face, not daring to meet her eyes. There was something cold settling in her stomach. In her ears she heard the children chanting…
(Dawn-child, earth-child, what is Sen?)
"I have decided," the she'pan said finally. "You will join the Sen. From this day on, you will not be a kel'e'en anymore. What do you say, sen Melein?"
Melein bit her lip and bent down on the floor. There were a thousand objections in her chest, but she couldn't voice them. "You cant'!" she wanted to shout, but the she'pan could. "Why?" she wanted to ask, brokenly, but she was not one to question the Mother, she didn't need to know her reasons. Besides, in the end, what did it matter? There was nothing she could do about it. A quick thought of Medai flashed in her mind, and she pushed it forcibly away.
"May I ask…" she still started, choking, but the she'pan raised her hand, forbiddingly, and she fell quiet.
The dus knew, came the painful realization.
"As you wish, she'pan," she muttered after a long while, bending her head.
"Good." The she'pan was leaning backward in her chair, eyes closed as Melein straightened slowly. "Go to change you robes, and come back then. You have much to learn."
Melein got up without saying anything, nodded her head a little. A breach of courtesy, maybe, but she needed at least a small rebellion. She left the room and the kel'anth and the sen'anth followed her quietly, old men both, half-brothers, another in the black of Kel, the other in the gold of Sen.
She'pan Intel opened her eyes and watched the girl go, now alone in the room. She well knew what wound she had just struck, and she also knew it would not be the last.
"Rune-makers, home-leaders, that is Sen…" she muttered quietly as the footsteps slowly faded away.
****
I'm still surprised that I wrote it, especially as Melein is not quite my favorite character... Hah. First fanfic written this year... let's see if it will also be the last.
Hmm. I've a feeling you won't exactly get the last sentence unless you've read the book, but never mind.
I have to say I am quite surprised I wrote this, but now that it's done... the truth is that I actually like this fic. ^^ I really haven't been into fanfiction for some time... (which reminds me, there's that one fic I really should try to finally finish.) As usual, inspiration struck around the time I went to bed. And here I was thinking I might for once get to sleep early... (finished writing around 2 am. Typical.)
I considered posting this to ff.net, but then remembered there is no C. J. Cherryh category there (!), so I thought I'll just put this here. (Though I guess I could just post this on misc. books or something...) Well, at least this journal will not feel so neglected anymore. : / I'm not sure what's the point in posting this here, though, for as far as I know none of you has read this book, but... *shrug* So what.
So, here it is, spoiler-free, takes place before the book, and in the case someone's wondering, it's kind of scifi, takes place in a world called Kesrith, and these people are not humans but a race called mri (humanoid, look something like this in those robes of theirs.)
[edit] I just came up with a title. Shon'ai.
To understand the mri, one must understand shon'ai, the Game of the People, the passing-game. The Kel play shon'ai with knives while other mri play with wands or stones. To be mri is to play the Game, its player-to-player, hand-to-hand passing rhythm "as old as time and as familiar as childhood." To play the game is to cast oneself -- one's fate -- forth from the hand, to let go, to make the leap forward freely, and without fear.
~*~
Shon'ai
Melein s'Intel walked briskly down the hills toward the road and the edun. She was in a happy mood this day, though not for any particular reason - it was simply a good day. She cherished this feeling; the past days had been angry and sad, and she was tired of them. The sun had not yet reached the zenith and its heat was tolerable, and the colors of the world were bright in its light. She had watched the edun for a long time from the hills, blatantly ignoring the regul city that was also in her view, and it had been beautiful in her eyes, the tiny little dot on the vast almost-white land that it was.
She had thought about walking further in the hills, now that she for once did not have any obligations, but then Pasev had found her and told her that the she'pan wanted to see her. There had been something sad, something quiet in the old kel'e'en's eyes as she told this to Melein, but then again, Pasev was always quiet and melancholy these days, and Melein decidedly did not let this to bother her. Still with a light heart she had left to see the Mother.
As she approached the edun her eyes stopped on the tower of Kath, and the smile faded away. The tower was empty, abandoned, all who had belonged to the caste of the Kath were gone. She did not dwell on this often; it bothered her, as did the fact that there was nothing she could do about it. She was herself one of the last, and she remembered well how she and her brother and cousins had played shon'ai in that same tower. She could still hear their childish voices as they threw the stones to each other in the rhythm of the ancient chant.
(Wind-child, sun-child, what is Kath?)
That thought brought other memories to her mind, of a ship that had just carried away the last of her cousins, of that cousin himself, of a fight with her brother… Suddenly she felt her good mood slipping away, falling through her fingers like sand of the desert.
She found herself longing for those past, carefree days, days the three of them had been all but inseparable. Now, Medai was gone, carried away in to the distant war, and she and her brother… one couldn't quite say they were estranged, but they weren't on the best terms, either.
She picked up a small stone from the ground, fingered it thoughtfully, tossed it away. A similar stone as the ones they had used, back then. She still played the game, at times, but not with stones anymore. In the Kel hall they used small blades instead.
Her fingers touched the scars on her cheek. It had not been many years since she had received them, and she was still proud. But there was sadness in her pride. She was now the youngest of the Kel of Kesrith - and always would be, most likely. She shot a distressed glance toward the empty, childless Kath tower.
(Child-bearers, laugh-bringers, that is Kath.)
She had just reached the entry when she saw movement in the corner of her eye. A black-robed figure, just like herself, approached from the plain. This one was wearing a veil too, but Melein would have known her brother's gait anywhere, and after hesitating a moment she stopped to wait for him, suddenly eager to make peace with him again, not to be alone with her thoughts and worries. All others in the Kel were old, old men and women, and although she did love them, she missed the company of her brother.
Niun reached her, unveiled, and gave a small, tentative smile in greeting.
"Trying to get a dus for yourself again?" she asked in all innocence.
Niun shrugged, a careless gesture in which Melein still saw relief. Relief that she was again making fun of him. "There were some on the plain," he said matter-of-factly, and now Melein smiled.
"There often are. Though it's a miracle they haven't left yet, what with you constantly bothering them."
Niun just shrugged again, and they walked inside in silence.
"The she'pan wants to meet me," Melein said after a while.
Niun nodded. "I might come to see her myself," he started to say, but Melein shook quickly her head.
"I think it's personal," she said, the membrane in her eyes flicking in annoyance as Niun cast her a sidelong, knowing look.
"I haven't done anything! At least I don't think so…"
Niun held his smile in check and nodded. "Will you come to meet me in the Kel hall afterward? You can tell me then what you have not done."
She declined from answering and gave him instead one of his shrugs.
"I might," she said after a while, when they parted.
(Fire-child, star-child, what is Kel?)
When she climbed up the stairs she thought of dus, of those great beasts that were native to Kesrith, unlike mri, unlike regul. She understood well her brother's eagerness to hold one as his own - shared it, in fact - but she also knew that it was useless to try to coax one. They chose their own masters, these half-sapient beasts of the plains, at their own time. And so Melein made fun of her brother's attempts. He was kind enough to ignore it and not return the favor. For some reason all dusei, wild and tame alike, avoided her. She sighed as she thought of this. She knew, of course, that not all of the Kel ever acquired a dus, those of the other castes, never. It seemed appropriate to her that these magnificent beasts would choose only warriors. And maybe, among them, only the greatest ones?
She was determined to have a dus following her some day. If only she could go to the war… maybe then. She knew she was still too young, but the war had been going on almost twice her lifetime and showed no signs of ending - certainly it would wait for her.
(Sword-bearers, song-weavers, that is Kel.)
She had reached the room where the she'pan waited for her, and to her surprise she saw that the kel'anth and the sen'anth, leaders of Kel and Sen, were in her company.
She stopped to give her respects, but the she'pan Intel stopped her.
"Come, come here, child. Sit," she said, and Melein came and sit down by the old woman's chair.
Old… she thought with a sudden pang of sadness. She was old, the Mother of the People.
"You called for me, she'pan," she said and looked down, so her eyes would not betray her thoughts.
"Yes…" The she'pan reached down and placed a finger on her chin, lifting her face up again. Startled, Melein tried to hide her confusion, to keep her membrane from flicking, which it did nevertheless.
"How have you fared these days, my daughter-not-of-the-flesh? I have seen you but a little."
"I am sorry, she'pan. I have been busy with my training."
The she'pan nodded. "I know. You have trained much and diligently, and are becoming skilled in the arts of Kel. This is good… even those skills can be useful for you in the end."
Melein flinched of surprise at she'pan's words, and was annoyed at this lack of restraint.
"What do you mean, she'pan?" she asked, and bent then quickly her head down. "If I may ask."
The she'pan watched her a moment, kindly, but Melein had learned that there was steel behind her kindness.
"The times are hard," she finally said, "and they will get only harder. Our edun is small, and this will not change for years to come. Our Kel number twelve, Sen but one, and Kath are no more." She fell silent for a moment, and Melein stared at her face, not daring to meet her eyes. There was something cold settling in her stomach. In her ears she heard the children chanting…
(Dawn-child, earth-child, what is Sen?)
"I have decided," the she'pan said finally. "You will join the Sen. From this day on, you will not be a kel'e'en anymore. What do you say, sen Melein?"
Melein bit her lip and bent down on the floor. There were a thousand objections in her chest, but she couldn't voice them. "You cant'!" she wanted to shout, but the she'pan could. "Why?" she wanted to ask, brokenly, but she was not one to question the Mother, she didn't need to know her reasons. Besides, in the end, what did it matter? There was nothing she could do about it. A quick thought of Medai flashed in her mind, and she pushed it forcibly away.
"May I ask…" she still started, choking, but the she'pan raised her hand, forbiddingly, and she fell quiet.
The dus knew, came the painful realization.
"As you wish, she'pan," she muttered after a long while, bending her head.
"Good." The she'pan was leaning backward in her chair, eyes closed as Melein straightened slowly. "Go to change you robes, and come back then. You have much to learn."
Melein got up without saying anything, nodded her head a little. A breach of courtesy, maybe, but she needed at least a small rebellion. She left the room and the kel'anth and the sen'anth followed her quietly, old men both, half-brothers, another in the black of Kel, the other in the gold of Sen.
She'pan Intel opened her eyes and watched the girl go, now alone in the room. She well knew what wound she had just struck, and she also knew it would not be the last.
"Rune-makers, home-leaders, that is Sen…" she muttered quietly as the footsteps slowly faded away.
****
I'm still surprised that I wrote it, especially as Melein is not quite my favorite character... Hah. First fanfic written this year... let's see if it will also be the last.
Hmm. I've a feeling you won't exactly get the last sentence unless you've read the book, but never mind.