Iron Quill - Ashes to Ashes [A Symphony of Ash and Dust]

[StormLordXIII]

A Symphony of Ash and Dust

Mnemosyne could hear the symphony ring in her ears before her supple fingers delicately caressed the taught strings of her violin. Alight in hues of pale gold, fading pink, and blood red, she felt the rhythm course through her as she held back her bow. She brought it down across her violin with the elegant violence and sublimity of a crashing wave.

A hollow note rang out over the rooftops of the slums. It wavered, floating above the aether, the sound coiled like a serpent.

Cawing pigeons and crows scattered with a cackle.

A bell tolled in the distance.

Mouths drops as eyes caught sight of the little girl on the rooftop, thin and gaunt, like a pale shadow, silent as a dying dream. Mnemosyne gripped the neck of her wooden instrument tightly in her slender hand and she began to play. The sun was setting in full now, its yellow orb disappearing behind the mountains of the badlands in the distance. A crisp, cool breeze carried itself through the streets, brushing the slated, Victorian tiles of every roof with a delicate caress. The notes poured from Mnemosyne like a libation from a carafe. A sweet sound, the delicacy of a tinkling stream within the force of a monsoonal shower, reverberated and echoed. Time seemed to stand still as the symphony commenced. All of Malifaux’s western slums was her theatre, those carrion birds – both human and avian – her audience.

:masks :masks :masks

“I fear for her, you know,” Cecil said dully as he put a spoonful of hot onion soup to his lips. The kitchen was isolated from the rest of the orphanage, and the tears, screams, and rare giggles of the children seemed far off. His head was throbbing and he grew ever weary of the children he had promised himself he would care for.

“She’s on the damned roof again. I told her I would flog her again if she did it – she’s bound to break her neck one day. You’re far too lenient with the girl, Cecil. She’s not our own blood, but you coddle her so.” Vera shoved her empty bowl aside with a clatter and she leaned forward, looking her husband straight in the eyes. With a malicious smile she whispered, lips pursed, “She could very well slip on one of those loose shingles…”

Cecil shuddered and pulled his chair back a few inches. “You know dear, they’re all our children, and Nym… I mean Mnemosyne, is… special.”

“She can play a violin you fool, that’s all. Compared to the rest of the snot-rag trash we take in at our own charity, she has a modicum of talent which makes her slightly more tolerable.”

“Do you have any love for these children?”

“Naturally. I take care of them. But the girl… there’s something off about her.Behind those grey eyes, sometimes I see a shadow stir.”

Vera stood up and began to clear the table, although Cecil had not finished with his soup. Above the sound of the running faucet, he could her Vera muttering to herself. The words freak was barely audible. Cecil knew she was fingering an empty soulstone in her pocket. His stomach clenched and he ran out of the dim kitchen, about to wretch.

:masks :masks :masks

Mnemosyne could see Anna’s outline clinging hesitantly to the door of her room, flickering with the dying light of the oil lamp in the hallway. She whispered, “You can come in, you know. Zara and Mysha are asleep, you won’t wake them, Anna.” She heard the creak of the door, the pitter-patter of slippered toes, the exhalation of the dust awoken by the teddy bear drooping to the floor from Anna’s little hand. “Are you having a bad dream again?”

Anna’s wide eyes, bright, blue and glossy, like sapphires, shone through the darkness. “Nym, I know they’ll hurt me again if I stay with you.”

Mnemosyne’s room was small, with only three cots and a blue rug that covered barely a third of the grimy wooden floor.

And the violin.

In the darkness the space was even more oppressive. She gave Anna a smile and whispered, “They’re asleep, like I said. No one will find you here.” She patted the edge of her cot and Anna crawled in beside her. “I was thinking of you when I played on the roof today.” She thought the corners of Anna’s mouth twitched.

“They hurt you again for playing up there.” It was not a question.

Nym brushed the bruise on her cheek. She knew it would go away in the morning. “Not they. Her.”

Anna gulped. “She’ll hit you again if she finds me here.”

“Then she won’t find you here.” She gave little Anna a tight hug, like a mother might a daughter. It was the closest thing to this experience Anna would ever have. “Now go to sleep.”

“Wait,” Anna whispered, “I just wanna know. Why d’ya always play on the roof?”

“So He can hear me.” She kissed Anna on the forehead, and the younger girl went straight to sleep, her bear tucked under her arm.

:masks :masks :masks

Light streaming through the molded shades on the grimy window caused Nym’s eyes to flutter. She awoke and patted Anna instinctively to rouse her, only to meet the fur of her teddy bear instead. She turned over. The girl was missing. In a hazy panic, Nym crept out of her room to the sound of eggs frying in a pan below.

Nym entered the kitchen wearily. Some of the other orphans were eagerly hacking at their eggs. Vera was at the stove, humming tunelessly. Innocently, she asked, “Have you seen Anna? Is she still sleeping?”

Vera, without so much as a second glance at Nym, threw salt and pepper into the blaze on the stove and said, “The sickly girl? Can’t say I have, dear. Oh, bless her soul.” Nym was certain the hag was smiling. The pocket of her apron, for the faintest second, was glowing green.

:masks :masks :masks

There was no sign of Anna all day. Mourning and enraged, Nym ascended under the cover of darkness to her usual vigil atop the roof of the orphanage and she began to play her usual repertoire. She was methodical, precise, and she could feel the energy run up her bow and through her delicate fingers. It was almost in invocation. After the first hour, her fingers became bloody from the force of her movements, but she did not care. All that mattered was that Anna was gone. Feverish, she ran her fingers across the violin in frenzy again, the sound bellowing around her in a cacophonic storm, blood flowing in pools to the thirsty strings. And suddenly, she knew he was behind her.

She looked around and saw a hulking, brutish mass of hazy darkness and black fur, girded by two leathery, harpy wings.

I like the way you play Mnemosyne

“How long have you been standing there?”

Years I have watched you play that tune for eons time is nothing when you can control it

“I do not have similar… abilities,” Nym said wistfully. She thought of Anna.

Yes you do in that song girl and in your heart you are not afraid of me clever girl and perhaps you can be of service to Xronos

“Who?”

Me you think of your friend girl you know what happened clever girl and you are next but your own music can save you come and join me and nothing holds you back now

Flames burst before Mnemosyne’s feet. She jumped into his arms without hesitation, ash and dust enveloping them both in a whirl.

:masks :masks :masks

The bloody rays of the sun again began to sink behind the shrouded outline of a young, gaunt girl, invisible to those in the streets below like her companion. Xronos caressed her shoulder softly, stroking her dark locks affectionately. His razored tail bobbed lazily up and down with the evening breeze, and between the nashing of his spear-like teeth, he whispered to her, his moist breath steaming in the cool, late-evening air.

That’s him, there he might make a good companion for you keep him occupied I have much to discuss with his… guardian

Xronos gave a wet, gurgling chortle and licked black ichor from his dripping lips.

The silhouette of a little boy appeared in the dark alley below. His countenance was lit by the falling rays of the dying sun, and Nym could make out his puerile face and his golden locks protruding from the white nightcap perched on his head. Xronos smiled, and she began to play her violin, that same, haunting tune that head echoed through the western slums.The boy froze. Again, time seemed to stop with the music, and Xronos leapt from the roof and swooped down to embrace a horned, shadowing hulk of inky darkness which accompanied the child made still by Nym’s symphony, a darkness whose talons held onto a pale, baby-blue blanket that his charge had dropped.

And so Tyrant embraced Tyrant, time froze before the face of its ruler, leaving him and his dark companion unmolested and invisible. Nym’s grey eyes met the pale, watery blue ones of the little boy. With growing horror, she saw the emptiness behind those innocent orbs, the hollow soul, void of its own sentience. She saw the countenance of a pawn.

She saw herself.

As the notes of her last symphony grew into a crescendo, thoughts of Anna and Cecil, long gone, and of the other poor children, burnt to nothing, flashed before her. She had a name for this melancholy symphony at last. All Is Dust. They were gone forever.

Tears streamed from her eyes and she squeezed. The neck of the violin snapped, the pieces flew to the streets below. In a rush of color and sound, Nym gave herself to the pavement with them.

Ingredients Used: All is dust, the violin

Edited May 25, 2013 by StormLordXIII

[Mako]

I really liked the orphanage owners, they were great characters. I have to say though, the ending of the story seemed a little out of tune with the rest. It was nice, but it felt slightly off, as if there should have been something before it that explained Xronos a bit more.

[StormLordXIII]

Hi Mako,

Thanks for taking the time to offer everyone feedback on their pieces - it's much appreciated. I'm glad you liked Cecil and Vera - I enjoyed writing that snippet of harsh dinner conversation which could take place only in Malifaux so I'm glad to hear that you had fun reading it.

Also, thanks for the constructive feedback about Xronos' character development - development something that I really struggle with in the 1500 word limit I'll keep working with it for the next round...

Lols. Maybe I tried too hard to incorporate the ending with the Dreamer that all of the explanation stuff fell flat. Haha, maybe it's time to avoid canon characters...

[Mako]

No problem, I've told myself if I'm going to vote, I should at least say something. It's hard to give feedback, so I force myself to.

I typically stay clear of actually using canon characters, they're so hard to get right, especially in such a tiny limit! The whole balance of development and stuff actually happening is the hardest bit I think, so I find the extra freedom of non-canon characters useful.