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luceti2011-12-29 07:59 pm
lucetimods) wrote in luceti2011-12-29 07:59 pm
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Re: Sabriel | | Sabriel - The Old Kingdom Trilogy by Garth Nix | Reserved
First Person:
I am both relieved and disturbed at the lack of Dead in this land. On the one side I am grateful because I do not have my father’s…my sword or my bells with which to deal with them; alternatively it is distressing because by all means it looks like I am still in the Old Kingdom but I can feel no trace of the Charter here. Therefore I am either very far South, which is impossible because this place is a little too primitive for the technology found in Corvere, or in another land entirely.
…Judging from the wings jutting out of my back I’d go with the latter.
To whoever might have done this, I appreciate you taking care of the arrow in my side but I am in a terrible rush and must return home as soon as possible- and if you would be so kind as to remove the extra appendages from my back I would be most grateful.
Third Person:
A week had passed since Sabriel first awoke to find herself in the strange land of Luceti. She had been cautious at first, maybe overly so to ensure the safety of the place; feeling as far as she could to try and sense any of the Dead that might have followed her and even going so far as to venture into the cold river of Death itself with only her Bells to investigate. There had been nothing there. No wayward spirits fighting to return to life, no bellowing roar from Kerrigor surging up through the mists of the First Gate, just the steady current of the chilled river tugging lightly against her legs. She didn’t dare linger too long in the dark river, and the shock of returning to Life, in all its warmth and brightness had been emphasized by the feeling of sheer relief. Kerrigor could not follow her here, nor would her blood be spilt down in the depths of the royal palace’s reservoir. The thought of that place still made her shiver despite the heat of the midday sun.
Sabriel had tried to keep herself distracted in the meantime and spent her days inspecting the village and the surrounding land to find a strategic place to settle down. While nowhere would be quite as good as Abhorsen’s House back in the Old Kingdom, the house itself occupying a small island in the middle of the Ratterlin river and right on the edge of the waterfall, but the Community House by the western river had proved to be a decent alternative.
With the lull of activity and business Sabriel had forced herself into, she was left with nowhere to run from the stress and the emotional build up she had been trying to avoid ever since she arrived. Today she would face it, but she had to make a stop first. The walk to the flower shop had been quiet and uneventful, she had kept her head down and murmured her thanks before continuing on her way with the small bouquet of white and blue flowers; the colours of the Abhorsen. It felt appropriate. It was a long trek to the southern lake, by the time she had reached the shores of it the sun had raised to its apex in the sky. Without a word she knelt at the water’s edge and pulled a folded paper boat from her surcoat, filling the vessel with the flowers and arranging them in a sort of wreath around the mast.
She had left her home world running for her life, Touchstone’s hand tight in hers and almost dragging her across the laws of the royal palace while the scavengers from the city followed hot on their heels, sending the crossbow bolt that had punched through her armoured cloak to rest deep between her ribs. More importantly, Sabriel had been running from the Dead that had gathered in the dark of the reservoir to ambush the three of them, she, Touchstone and her Father, the Abhorsen. Kerrigor, once the royal prince of the Old Kingdom had shunned life to seek power as a Dead Adept, a being of Free Magic and horror; even going so far as to kill his sisters, his mother, to use their blood to break the Great Charter stones in the reservoir. His ambush on the three of them would have been a solid step forward if it had worked. Abhorsen had seen to it that Kerrigor would fail that day.
“Father.”
Grief, deep cutting and body numbing was finally cutting its way through her self control as she lowered the vessel to the water’s surface; her shaking hands causing small ripples to spread into the lake. Her Father had stayed behind, surrounded by certain Death and the cold laughter of their enemy but he had ensured her safety and that of Touchstone, in his sacrifice. With a bitten back sob, Sabriel released her hold on the boat, watching the flower laden paper float across the surface of the water in a quiet funeral. As the tears fell down her cheeks she watched the vessel in near silence, the chirp of the birds a mournful song to mark its departure.
“Go with love,” she murmured, her tear stained eyes watching the boat until it sank out of sight, “be at peace.”
Request
Re: Request
I am quite happy when I am learning, be it learning about a subject through study and practice or learning about someone interesting and new; provided that they can offer stimulating conversation of course. That said there is always joy to be found amongst friends and family. They give you that sense of unconditional acceptance and warmth when you need it most.
2. Do you have any secrets? Would you ever tell them to anyone? What would make you reveal them?
I have found myself surprised by so many secrets from my Father, the Old Kingdom, and even Touchstone that my personal secrets feel somewhat...inadequate in terms of dark grandeur and mystery.
In that sense I suppose my greatest secret would the knowledge I’ve learned through The Book of the Dead. No doubt many Necromancers have fought us for book, and while it can be opened by a strong Necromancer only an untainted Charter Mage can close it; therefore only those of the Abhorsen bloodline. I will admit, the thought of being unable to close that book is...chilling, even for me.
As Abhorsen, I would only pass this knowledge to the Abhorsen-in-Waiting once I have one, but even then it would be on a need to know basis and only in times of emergency.
To be honest the secrets of the book cannot be remembered like the pages of a regular book, no doubt from some spell woven into the fabric to save the sanity of the reader from the horrors within. The contents of its pages are constantly changing and at best, I can only clearly remember a couple passages of it, even though I’ve read through and memorized it from cover to cover. The knowledge will present itself to me only when I need it but until that time comes, it remains as little more than fog in my mind.
So in that case, my darkest secret comes with its own means of protection.
3. Do you consider yourself to be special in any way? Explain.
I had always been aware of the fact that my powers of Necromancy in conjunction with my proficiency with Charter Magic at school had been a singularity but I didn’t know it was because of my bloodline. Becoming the Abhorsen, using both powers to keep peace in the Old Kingdom between the living and the Dead, I can imagine how one could interpret that power with being special. I personally don’t think of myself as special. I understand that I am different and that my bloodline is, well, extraordinary but I am still only human.
4. Who is the most important person in your life, and why?
My Father; he’s the only family I’ve ever had. Even if his work as Abhorsen and the dangers he had to face kept us apart, he made sure I was never unhappy. He’s the one who shaped who I truly am; gave me the will, the strength, and the tools to live and fight for what must be done, no matter what stands in my way. I’d do anything for him because I know he’d do the same for me.
Before he died he told me he was sorry, that being Abhorsen meant he couldn’t be the perfect parent for me. It might be true but I can’t begrudge him for doing his best, or for loving me as much as he could.
5. What is your greatest fear?
To become that which I must hunt and fight is my greatest fear. There are many fates worse than Death in my world and if I fail against Kerrigor when I return? I will be subject to the worst of them; robbed of my free will, my spirit bent to the will of another and forced to linger in Life as a servant for some Dark Adept when I should pass quietly beyond the Ninth Gate when my time comes.
Accepted
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