Mindstream |
|
|
|
Chapter 1 |
|
| This fan-fiction was inspired by a set of black mug I got at a garage sale. They’re old and chipped, and a bit roughly made – they remind me of something that might exist in Elspeth’s world. With that association, I thought of tea, and tea leaves, and fortune tellers, and that led me to write this piece about Maryon. Word count: 995 (I hate word limits!!!) [ligne][/ligne] Maryon cupped the chipped earthenware mug in her hands. A gift from her father, it was one of the few possessions she treasured. She gazed at the vortex of tea leaves swirling in the amber liquid, and allowed her gaze to unfocus… The mindstream called. It manifested differently to everyone who sought it. For her, it was more a lake than a stream; a deep, infinite pool of golden water, with unlikely, slow-moving eddies defacing its otherwise mirror-like surface. It spoke inaudibly to her. A single voice; a chorus of voices, singing achingly, silently, in a language she yearned to understand. It tugged enticingly, offering her respite within its depths. She floated closer, seeking that place where its call and the pull of her body equalised. A bubble slowly formed beneath her. She saw… Miryum’s maddened face, whispering softly to herself while clutching a tattered cloth bag gently to her breast… Maryon moved away. She’d encountered Miryum’s fate before, and had no wish to learn more of it. A second bubble erupted. Within it, Elspeth and Rushton, hair dripping, sat next to each other before a fire. Rushton turned towards Elspeth, and the longing in his eyes pierced Maryon’s heart. He reached a hand towards Elspeth’s hair, and she turned towards him and smiled… She pushed that future moment away as well. Elspeth’s destiny was a central part of Maryon’s life; Elspeth’s loneliness echoed her own. She did not begrudge Elspeth her one night of happiness, but to allow herself to share it would make the ache of her own isolation that much keener. Distracted, she failed to notice the third bubble conjured up by the mindstream. Larger than the others, it shimmered darkly and she could not avoid it. She was engulfed, and… Saw herself. An unfamiliar man with patient brown eyes and a faint scar marring one cheek looked towards her, holding a wreath woven with dark waxy leaves. Maryon gazed back with unmistakeable affection in her eyes… In her chambers, Maryon’s brow furrowed. This was not a future she’d seen before. She was the guildmistress of the futuretellers, and must ever hold herself apart. Unknowingly, she clutched her mug tighter, trying to loose her mind from the mindstream’s grasp. But it wouldn’t let her go… “I love you, Maryon,†the man said simply, sinking to one knee before her. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life.†He held the wreath towards her, eyes grave. “Anton,†Maryon whispered, and stepped towards him… And the vision shattered. The song of the mindstream turned to a shriek in her ears. The serene pool below had erupted into a raging whirlpool of darkly golden turmoil. She struggled against its insistent call. A stream of bubbles formed and shot towards her… “Aye, my love,†Maryon said and allowed his smile and embrace to enfold her. And then they were bonded, surrounded by those she’d once led. They left together in a rickety cart to live in the house once owned by her parents, she gravid with child. She laughed and sang, and never gave another thought to the mindstream that had once so entranced her. She never made the preparations for Elspeth’s quest, and so those companions she would need to help her on her way did not follow her up the dark mountains. One morning, Maryon woke and looked out the window. A flash of pure white light tore the sky and an eerie mushroom cloud billowed silently on the horizon. She opened her mouth to call to Anton, but a blistering wind tore through the window. Her bones, and the world, turned to dust… Maryon’s death grip on the earthenware mug increased, and it splintered in her grasp. She trembled, but could not wake before the next bubble overtook her… “Nay,†Maryon said, turning away. “I mun stay here. I have a duty.†He stepped towards her and turned her to face him. “I will stay with you,†he whispered, and she stepped into his arms. They were bonded, and she continued to work as guildmistress, but the visions came less frequently, and she often found herself distracted. She didn’t visit the mindstream in time to gather Elspeth’s companions, nor to prepare the supplies needed for her quest. So Elspeth left alone, and though Maryon afterwards tried to scry her, she had no luck. Then one day, she looked out the window, and saw a pure white light… Shaking, she struggled to escape the mindstream. Vision after vision in which she rejected her life of loneliness led inexorably to the destruction of everything she loved. A final bubble floated up and, limply, she accepted its offering… “Nay,†Maryon said, stepping back. “Why, my love?†Anton asked in confusion. “Did you have a vision…?†“I dinna love you,†she replied simply, presenting the impassive mask of guildmistress to him. “I nivver have.†He searched her face, and saw nothing. The light faded from his eyes, and her heart withered inside her. “Guildmistress,†he said, bowing, and leaving her. She hung her head, dry-eyed and hollow. She continued her duty, doing always what was expected. And the night that Elspeth left, a young ward came to her chambers and told her that Anton’s body had been found, floating in one of their favourite heated springs… She screamed, then felt a touch on her shoulder. Shaking, she gazed about her room, grown cool as the fire ebbed. She felt pain in her hand. She looked down; a shard of her favourite mug was embedded in her palm. “Guildmistress,†a worried voice said. “What ails you?†She looked into a pair of brown eyes, set in a face marred only by a faint scar. “My name is Anton,†the man said. “I was sent up by your guilden; I assumed you’d had a foretelling and were expecting me. I’ve come to join your guild.†He smiled. For the first time in years, Maryon wept. |
|
| Views | 362 |
