Welcome to Valerian Night, where the story comes to you in snippets and snatches, snapshots and slivers of 300 words every week. Your input is valued and needed, for what you say may drive the story into a totally different direction. Follow the meandering coils of story that take Alyxa Fairchild onto a direct collision course with Nightmares, Dreams, Old Deities and New Heroes as her world collides with that of Réveille, the land of Waking Dreams and Dead Gods. Trail after Morpheus as he discovers the foibles and confusions of the human world and finds himself strangely enamoured thereof all the while trying to keep his Dreamer safe and ensure the continued peace of the Real World. Let the young Jazzy open your eyes and show you that the world you see is not necessarily the world you know...

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

3.12. Colours and Faces


The Coven members gathered in the largest room of the house, some sitting some standing, and all eyes were fixed on Jessica. She could feel the intensity of their thoughts behind the irises, so many different desires and criticisms. Who will she pick? When will she pick them? What does she See? Isn’t she too young? Jessica could imagine what went on in their minds, mainly because she was thinking them herself. They were valid questions too, all of them unanswered.

“Have you got everything you need, my dear?” Aeron asked her, coming up beside her.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied quietly, taking a sip of the glass of cordial sitting in front of her.

“If you need – ”

“Aeron,” she interrupted, sharp enough to surprise herself, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Alright,” he said quietly, and moved off.

She let him go without making any attempt to apologise. Someone else drifted towards her, she thought it was Delia from the perfume but before she could say anything the whirl of colours that were her Sight settled.
A stream of faces flew past her, like index cards being sorted. They spread and became a room full of people, the coven Working a rite. There were braziers everywhere, and torches. It was Beltane. The Circle glowed in the firelight. The Coven Master stepped into the centre of the Circle and pulled back the cowl of the ceremonial robe.

Jessica knocked over the glass, spilling cordial everywhere, as she stood up. Michael was behind her then, steadying her.

“Jazzy? What do you See?”

The tension in the room was a physical presence, it wanted to know who she was going to choose.

“...he’s not here. The man in my vision, he’s not here,” she said, “but...I think, I know where to find him.”

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