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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1790388-Scintillant--Chapter-One
by Kleo
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1790388
Winner of FAC & SSMC! A daring heroine, a world sublime, a new, exotic form of magic...
Scintillant
Chapter 1 (Rough Draft 1)
By Kleo
*Thrid Place Winner of the Fantasy Apprenticeship Contest and the Spectacular Speculations Monthly Contest!*

         “Name?”
         “Jaimen.”
         “Age?”
         “Eighteen.”
         The stout, copper-haired racemaster peered up from his scroll. His eyes flicked briefly over the young rider.
         “Eighteen?” He lifted an eyebrow.
         “Yes.”
         The master’s bloodshot eyes lingered on the rider’s young, soft face, his gaze full of scrutiny. Finally, he turned back to his scroll.
         “Skinny thing, aren’t you?” he said, his quill scratching across the parchment before him.
         “A lightweight rider doesn’t fatigue his serpent, sir.”
         The man’s quill paused, and he looked up again, a question in his gaze. He opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it, and then said, “Where did you say you were from?”
         “A poma farm... in Zyrabai, sir. In the Southlands.”
         The master shook his head. “No Southlander speaks like that. Why, you have the accent of a T’Ankirine Noble.”
         The rider dropped his gaze, inhaling slightly. “My...” He cleared his throat, digging the toe of his boot into the sand beneath his feet. “My mother was once a servant in the queen’s palace. I was... raised among nobility.” He nodded, his charged yellow eyes returning to the racemaster’s face. He held his gaze, perhaps challenging the man to question his explanation.
         The racemaster puffed on his long black pipe, adding more sickly purple smoke to the haze that choked his canvas tent. His features breathed suspicion. But, the rider looked capable, dexterous. He could bring in a profit.
         After a long, tense moment, the master took a small scroll from the pile near his elbow and handed it to the boy. “You will report to the Pit in one hour for the midday races,” he said.
         The rider took the scroll, inclined his head respectfully, and left, allowing the next man in line to step forward.


         You know, Jaimen- if you’re going to live on the streets, eventually you must learn how to lie. Bindi emphasized Anouk’s fake name teasingly. The sleek, ice-black viper gave her wrist a gentle squeeze, his metal scales cool against her flushed skin.
         What? You don’t think I play a good boy? Anouk thought back at him. A smile quirked in the corners of her lips as she tucked the racemaster’s scroll in her pocket, making her way from the outskirts of T’Ankir into one of the city’s many narrow, camel-plugged side streets.
         Never have, thought Bindi. But what do I know? After all, you fooled the new racemaster-
         Considering the eleven poorly hidden bottles of rum I found inside his tent, I wouldn’t call that much of a feat. Anouk flattened herself against a wall as a carpet-laden cart rattled by. Paranoid drunkard, wasn’t he?
         Criminals often are. Did you really find eleven bottles? I only saw nine...
         Bindi! Your powers of observation are beginning to dull.
         That, or they’ve simply never been as acute as your own.
         True.
         Anyway,
snapped Bindi. What I mean to say is… you mustn’t look so flustered when you lie.
         Bindi, please try to understand. I simply refuse to allow myself to become comfortable in this business.
         But considering the situation, and with all your training-
         I was trained to protect my people, Bindi, not to be a... miscreant.

         Bindi poked his head out of the sleeve of her loose farmer’s shirt, regarding her with a melancholy yellow gaze. I’m afraid you already are a miscreant, my dear... whether you choose to be or not.
         At that, Anouk sighed. She fought the sudden urge to tuck her hair more securely under her straw farmer’s hat, knowing such fidgeting would give her away to certain, highly trained eyes. Instead, she tried to look casual, making sure her daggers were secure in their sheaths and her luxdiscs in her pocket by pretending to pat dust from her trousers. She straightened, lifting a hand to her brow and squinting at the sun. While she was happy to be out of the suffocating haze of the racemaster’s tent, she missed its shade. The sun over Syrtis was angry and unrelenting. Clouds were nearly nonexistent. Rain was unheard of.
         Now she turned a corner and the narrow alley ended, opening suddenly to reveal the Marketplace. The Marketplace was a large sandy square, drenched in sunlight and framed by squat sandstone buildings. Their crack-webbed walls were lined with merchants’ stands, draped with colorfully striped canvases and glistening with brass merchandise. The Marketplace was abuzz with flaming haired, yellow eyed Syrtians, going about their business in their dusty brown clothes. Anouk watched one paunchy red-bearded man, his fangs bared as he haggled prices heatedly with the owner of a fish stand. Suddenly, her eyes flicked over to watch a rosy-haired firedancer waggle her flaming fingers before the faces of several delighted children. Camels, goats, and other livestock were being auctioned off on a platform in the center of the square, and cries of “Beads for sale!” and “Pomas! Handpicked and fresh!” sounded all around. Queen Sanswari's glittering palace towered peremptorily over the square, the vaulted, rainbow-glass ceiling of the Chamber of Lights scintillating in its center amid a garden of golden minarets. Anouk eyed the palace wistfully. Finally she turned away, pulling her eyes back towards the square. She entertained herself by observing the market-goers' various unamenti- their "bonded creatures."
         Scorpion and scarab unamenti were common; Anouk saw many of these, made of cheap brass and scuttling after the poor. She also saw steel tortoises, silver jerboas, and a waist-high manganese spider whose twitchy legs made her itch. She saw a thorny iron lizard, a graceful chrome pronghorn, and a keen-eyed copper fox. There was even a stallion- a strikingly beautiful obsidian-bronze hybrid. His glinting black skin was snaked with veins of bronze, some running deep into its hide and others rising to its surface. This gave the animal a deep, dimensional look, as if drops of liquid bronze swirled in his obsidian ink skin. The stallion bore a well-dressed turbaned lord, surrounded by serfs. This came as no surprise. Gemstone-infused unamenti were very popular among the rich and noble.
         Anouk surveyed the scene one last time, checking for shifty eyes and concealed weapons. Finally, she turned her attention back to Bindi.
         Well, my friend, she thought, trying to sound chipper. We’ve still a half hour before the races begin. Do you want a little scrap of something to nibble on before we go? She pulled her last brass san from her trouser pocket and flipped it in the air.
         Actually, I’d rather save that san, if we can. It’ll be all we have if we don’t win today.
         Anouk nodded, pocketing the little coin. She stood for a quiet moment, brewing- as she always did- over what she must now do.
         Finally, she drew a deep breath. Well, then... onto the races.


         Gods, it stinks in here.
         It smells like you.

         Anouk yelped as Bindi nipped her wrist, at which point two sunken-eyed thieves looked up from sharpening their knives. She cleared her throat and turned away, pulling her hood close.
         Why, you little snake.
         Sorry. I did that harder than I meant to.
         Really? Because I hardly felt it.
         Liar.
         Is there a mosquito in here? A biting fly? I think a butterfly just landed on my arm.
         Oh, aren’t we hilarious? Maybe I’ll just do it again.

         Anouk smiled a little, running a finger over her sleeve across Bindi’s concealed back. She hadn’t lied when she said the Pit smelled like him: metallic and reptilian. Its echoing caverns housed the racing snakes: colossal, un-chosen snake unamenti that had originally been gathered from Shaladyn in the Westlands, where snakes grew to unnatural and frightening sizes. Anouk inspected these now, passing the writhing beasts in their barred-off caverns. She poked about in their minds, searching for one who was strong, compliant, and relatively intelligent, though compared to regular unamenti, these creatures were irritatingly dull. When chosen by their human counter parts, regular unamenti gained the mental capacity of an average intelligence human being. The racing snakes, however, had only undergone the first part of the sacred transformation: metallic fusion. This opened their minds to be accessed by humans, but because they had not been chosen in the Ceremony, their thoughts remained those of beasts.
         As she proceeded, Anouk came across a zinc python, a steel horned viper, and an tungsten king snake, all towering, snapping and hissing agitatedly as she passed. These she didn’t even bother to inspect; she had seen them race before, and none had shown any notable amount of skill. So she headed in the direction of a particular magnesium rattler that had always been reliable. Coming upon the cavern of one rusted iron cobra, however, she stopped.
         This is new, she thought, craning her neck to examine the creature. It must have been transferred here from one of the other racing networks. She couldn’t see its head- only its long, twisted body, piled up like a scaly rope as it slept. The giant was thicker than a horse, and at least twenty horses long. Anouk frowned as she examined its condition. Its rusted skin was lined with deep scratches, such that would have required brutal force to create. If the treatment of these animals isn’t an indication of criminal activity, I don’t know what is, Anouk thought. It was rare to see un-chosen unamenti abused this way; Sercobahn’Asacra had always advocated the utmost tender treatment of them. With these thoughts in mind, Anouk sighed, gently prodding the depraved cobra awake with her mind.
         In the same second, the cobra’s head sprang from the coils of its body, its wide jaws snapping just in front of Anouk’s face with a deep, sonorous schink! She cursed and fell backward, baring her fangs instinctively as Bindi’s body locked around her wrist. Several thieves laughed.
         Anouk smiled incredulously, clutching at her pounding heart as her retractable fangs receded. You’re so fast! She thought at the agitated cobra. It glowered over her, hissing angrily as its tongue flicked between its long, bared fangs. Anouk stood slowly as the beast uncoiled itself, filling the cave with the silvery hiss of metal on metal.
         What do you think, Bindi? She thought.
         Considering the fact that his tongue is longer than my body- I think we should go.
However, I also think you probably don’t care what I think.
         Of course I do!
         But you’re going to pick him anyway?

         Anouk’s smile widened as she called over one of the racemaster’s aides.
         “I’ll race this one,” she told him.


         Anouk watched with amusement as a beefy thug struggled to pull himself onto his beast. She shook her head, tugging lightly at her cowl to make sure it was secure. The dark cloth covered most of her face, and for this she was grateful; not only did it keep bugs and dust out of her nose and mouth, it covered her long, carnelian hair and feminine facial features. Then, with considerably more deftness than the rotund thug, she swung herself up into her cobra’s saddle and pulled her goggles over her eyes. Bindi hugged her ankle under one of her tall racing boots. Ready? She thought at him, wrapping the cobra’s reins around her dark- gloved hands. She felt the stiff viper shake his head. Don’t worry, friend, she thought.
         “All racers to the starting tunnels!”
         Today’s nine unscrupulous racers kicked their beasts into motion, heading in the direction of the tunnels that lined the starting cavern’s east wall. These nine narrow tunnels were where the races would begin, opening briefly into a tall spectators’ cavern before becoming a dark, wormy maze to be navigated by the racers. These labyrinthine tunnels (combined with the feral transports and felonious participants) made the races a very dangerous, very illegal pastime indeed.
         Snake and rider entered their designated starting tunnels, stopping just before they reached the hot, high ceilinged spectators’ cavern. Anouk could hear the crowd before she could see them, their amplified cries pressing on her ears as they echoed through her tunnel. The spectators’ cavern was actually an air vent, its ceiling split with a mammoth crack through which vines and sunlight fell, filtering brilliantly through swirling wisps of sand and dust. The walls of the vent were honeycombed with pockets; those to the left and right housed a crowd of dirty, screeching thieves and their unamenti, waiting to watch the first- and bloodiest- moments of the race. In this free-for-all event, many injuries and “accidents” happened in the first several hundred yards or so, when the racers were in still in close proximity to one another. This was nothing Anouk couldn’t handle. It was the dark, respiring worm holes ahead that made her shiver.
         Anouk shifted in her saddle, exhaled, and tried to calm her twisting stomach. You know how to do this, she thought to herself. You’ve done it before. She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. Relax, she thought, and opened them again.
         Relax.
         A fresh roar rose up from the crowd as one of the racemaster’s aides stepped in front of the racers. Now the snakes began to hiss and shift expectantly, the tinny sibilation of their metal scales echoing through the cavern. The aide reached the center of the course and raised his flag, and the commotion heightened. This is it, Anouk thought, bending low over her cobra. She assailed the beast with energizing thoughts as it twisted beneath her, hissing and working its jaws apprehensively. As the crowd frenzied above her, Anouk’s thoughts began to rush. She felt her muscles tense, her grip tighten, her eyes narrow into slits behind her goggles. Suddenly, a hush fell.
         Anouk’s breath caught.
         And the flag dropped.
         Anouk and her cobra burst into motion, and the crowd erupted. The cavern blurred, the air surged, and dust assaulted her goggles as the cobra bolted forward. Its scales whispered along the stone floor like a knife slicing across whetstone. Anouk had been right about the beast; it was unnaturally fast, even compared to the other snakes. The vibration of its rapidly undulating body beneath her legs made her lungs swell with exhilaration. She smiled brilliantly beneath her cowl, and a breathless laugh escaped her.
         When it came to thrills, nothing could compare to this.
         Some movement to her left caught Anouk’s attention. She turned just in time to watch the beefy thug rip another racer off his snake, sending him rolling across the stone floor. His rider-less king snake veered drunkenly to the left, slamming into the zinc python and crushing it against the cavern wall. A shriek of metal against stone jarred the air, and sparks showered the python’s rider as he kicked and cursed at the floundering king snake. Anouk turned back just in time to duck as a gaunt faced racer swung at her from the right, a tiny knife glinting in his fist. Anouk dropped her reins and sat up in her saddle, breaking into a fanged smile as she slipped two calf-length obsidian daggers from her boots. She swiped at him with both- he feinted to the left, pulling his viper to the right and out of reach.
         Coward, Anouk thought. She cursed as her own snake lurched to the side, putting both daggers in one hand to grab the reins. Then, she twisted in her saddle to face the gaunt rider. She flung a dagger in his direction, sending the weapon whizzing past his ear. He smiled wickedly as the dagger clanged against the wall behind him. Anouk cursed again, flipping the other dagger around to pinch it by its blade. For a moment, she stared at it, silently deliberating. Then, she made a decision.
         This is not a good idea, she thought.
         Anouk lit indigo.
         Violet-blue light pulsed from her indigo luxdisc. It washed warmly through her muscles, loosening them, smoothing her nervous, jerky movements. She felt her balance suddenly improve, and now staying seated atop her jolting cobra was much less of a challenge. Flooded with fresh confidence, she sat straight in her saddle, and with a deft side-throw sent her other dagger gyrating through the air. The gaunt racer’s smile widened as this second dagger missed him as well, pinging off his viper and causing no damage. Or so he thought.
         Anouk’s superhuman accuracy had sent the dagger straight through the rider’s saddle strap, and when he jerked his snake back in her direction, the saddle flew off, sending him careening through the air. He still gripped his reins, and the weight of his airborne body yanked his viper to the right, pulling the serpent’s body perpendicular to the paths of two others. The three collided with a resonant crunch, nearly drowned out by the howls of the crowd. Anouk winced. Five down already, she thought, extinguishing her indigo. She hoped her dark goggles had successfully concealed the violet-blue glow of her eyes.
         Now Anouk held a comfortable lead. But this was only the beginning.
         The real challenge lay ahead, in the three narrow tunnels that were rapidly approaching. These tunnels breathed an ancient presence, their dark recesses housing many secrets. Anouk veered her snake in the direction of the middle tunnel, and it wasn’t long before she could feel its clammy exhalations of cool, musty cave air. She shivered, fighting the urge to close her eyes. Instead, she flattened herself against her cobra as the beast folded its hood in preparation. Suddenly, they were mere feet away. This is it, she thought.
         Oh, gods.
         Her breath caught in her throat as they plunged into darkness. All light, heat, and sound disappeared instantly, snuffed out like a candle, leaving only heavy silence, and black. But before Anouk could adjust to any of this, the ground dropped out from beneath them. She cursed as they fell, her legs locking around her cobra as her stomach met her throat. Suddenly- “Oof!” They hit bottom, and though Anouk was jarred, the snake sped on.
         Left, right, up, down, right again, up again, down a little, down a lot! “Bloody hell, snake! Where are you taking me?” Anouk lit violet, and as if she’d struck a match, the tunnel burst into purple light- or at least, so it seemed to Anouk’s enhanced vision. Now she could see every bump and crevice of the craggy, compact tunnel through which her cobra flew, finding herself ducking involuntarily as short stalactites whizzed past her head. Her relief at being able to see almost overcame her worry that another rider would spot her gleaming violet eyes, or the violet luxdisc that glimmered in her lower back. They won’t see anything unless they’re close, she thought. Where are they, anyway?
         Leaving her violet on, Anouk lit orange. Now orange light penetrated her glowing eyes, swirling with the violet, and another spot of illumination appeared on her back beneath her shirt. She could feel the orange light twisting feverishly inside her chest, wriggling like a mass of trapped worms trying to escape. Then with her mind, she freed the light, releasing little tendrils of warm, orange rays that only her eyes could see. She pushed them away from herself, feeling about with them like searching fingers until they found her three opponents. One was in the tunnel to her right, slightly behind but surging forward. Another was a way back, but not moving; she wondered why. The last was tailing her, but at a comfortable distance. Still, she’d have to keep an eye on him. Anouk extinguished her orange. She was in the lead.
         Up, right, left, down- suddenly the tunnel ballooned into tall pocket, glittering with crystals. Then it narrowed until the cobra’s sides screeched against the walls; Anouk had to lift her feet into her saddle as she was showered with sparks. In one disturbing moment, her cobra dove into a water filled passage, and she had to hold her breath until it ended. Sometimes the tunnel split into several passages, and Anouk had only her uncultivated knowledge of the tunnels to guide her. Breathless, and with her store of violet light diminishing, her eyes snapped wide when a flicker of dim light appeared in the distance.
         “Ha!” She exclaimed. Suddenly glutted with excitement, she bowed low in saddle, assaulting her cobra with thoughts of speed and ardor. We’re almost there, Bindi! She thought to her unamenti. Can you see the light?
         I’m kind of in your boot.
         Well I can see it, and it’s beautiful! She thought. Her face split into a smile. Bindi, I think we’re going to-
         With electrifying impact, a dissonant shriek exploded from Anouk’s cobra, grating on her ears like the yowl of a trodden on cat. Anouk squeezed her eyes shut, clamping her hands over her ears as her fangs sprang forth by instinct. When she opened her eyes they shot about, searching for the cause of the outcry. Finally, she twisted around to see the beefy thug, grinning venomously as his magnesium rattler pried it’s fangs from her cobra’s tail.
         Anouk gasped and extinguished her violet, praying the other rider hadn’t seen it. The world was thrown into blackness as her wounded cobra thrashed beneath her. Easy, love, easy! She thought at the beast, attempting to calm it with soothing thoughts. She cursed as it continued to writhe, its body smashing into the wall and showering her with chips of rock. Suddenly, the thin tunnel opened into a low ceilinged pocket, full of thick stone columns and fat stalactites, Though the fast approaching light of day was slowly becoming enough to see by, it took all Anouk’s skill to keep her pitching cobra from bashing into them.
         The two riders darted between the columns like wind through grass, though Anouk was beginning to lose speed as she struggled to control her beast. Soon the other rider was able to pull up beside her. She jerked her cobra to the right of a column as he swung a fist at her, emerging only to duck as a long knife whirred by. Anouk's lips curled into a fanged snarl. I think I’ve had enough of you, she thought, hissing ferally. She slid her last dagger from her belt and, very faintly, relit her indigo. Again, the warm light penetrated her senses, slightly increasing her dexterity. She gripped the dagger firmly, tensed, and lifted it to throw.
         In a fit of pain, Anouk’s cobra thrust its back upward, and before she knew what was happening, her head smashed into a stalactite. Pain exploded in her skull, and light swam before her eyes as the snake lowered itself again. She teetered in her saddle, disoriented, thoughts floundering, and as she struggled desperately to clear her swimming head, the beefy thug pulled close beside her. Taking advantage of her bafflement, he reached out and grabbed her by the head, trying to pull her off her snake by her hair. But instead of grabbing hair, all he got hold of was her cowl.
         With a swish, the cowl whipped off, ripping Anouk’s goggles off with it.
         Anouk gasped, her flaming hair pouring across her shoulders as she gaped at the stunned thug, eyes still aglow.
         “An Illuminator…?” She saw him mouth. Then a dawn of comprehension lit his face. “The Traitor!
         Oh gods, Anouk thought. She whipped around to stare into the rapidly approaching daylight, wilting dejectedly. It’s too late to kill him, she realized, blood seeping into her eyes.
         That left only one option.
         Anouk stood in her saddle, lit red, and just as the thug swiped out to catch her…
         She jumped.



Author's Note: Yes, I understand the vocabulary in this first chapter is confusing. Just stick with me- all will be revealed :)

 Scintillant- Chapter Two  (13+)
Winner of FAC & SSMC! A daring heroine, a world sublime, a new, exotic form of magic...
#1799549 by Kleo

© Copyright 2011 Kleo (lilliesofglass at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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