Might Have Beens

I wrote this to Anonymous' prompt.

Tala was sitting on a bench outside the entrance to the Third Swordlord’s sanctum.  She had delivered her master’s message and the Third Swordlord had sent her out here to wait for his response.  From here she could see everything that was going on in the great, open hall.  She assumed either the Third Swordlord did not care what she saw or wanted her to see what was happening.  She didn’t mind either way.  This vast, sunlit space was very different to her own master’s halls and although it was a pleasant place to visit, she was not so certain she would want to be in service here - there were so many angels she could not see how most of them would ever be able to speak with their master as often as she spoke with hers.

“Tala?!”  She thought she knew that voice and turned to look.  Not one of her cohort-mates stood there but two.

“Jalira and Menifi!”  She stood up and smiled at the golden and teal winged female angels.  The three of them had received their robes together and their voices had a similar range.  For the short space of time before Tala was told for the first time that she did not suit a Choir Master’s requirements they had hoped they might all three be picked for the same choir.

“What are you doing here?”  That was Jalira, surprised but pleased.

“And what are you wearing?”  Menifi was intrigued.  The other two were wearing sandals and robes very like the ones they’d been given when newly created.

“My master sent me here with a message for the Third Swordlord and he bade me wait out here for the reply.”  She looked down at what she was wearing.  “Menifi, do you mean the trousers or the boots?”

“Both really,” the teal winged angel clarified.  “I haven’t seen even the warrior phalanxes wearing boots.”

“My brothers don’t wear them either,” Tala shrugged, “but I got sick and tired of having bushes whip my shins when I came in for a landing.”

“Then land on the paths, not in the garden,” suggested Jalira.

“Oh, it wasn’t a garden,” explained Tala.  “I was out in the world carrying out a task for my master and I did a lot of landing and taking off in paddocks and overgrown places.”

Her cohort-mates looked at her with dawning respect.  “You carry messages and go out into the world?”  Menifi was wide-eyed.

“You don’t?”  Tala looked at them and was puzzled.

“We’re not experienced enough,” Jalira told her.  “We sing His praises in the Choir, of course, but we don’t have other jobs yet.”

“Our masters must organise the work differently,” said Tala calmly.  “So, you sing.”

“Yes.”  Both of them beamed with pride then Menifi startled.  “Practice!  We’ll be late!  Sorry Tala, we have to go!”  With that the two of them dashed off.

Tala waited till they were out of sight and then sat down again.  There might well be much to be learnt in a large Choir, she reflected, but such duties seemed flat compared to her master’s taskings.

The July Prompt Call Is Still Open

Just a reminder, my July Prompt Call is still open and will remain so until Tuesday my time, that may be Monday for some of you.  Please come, prompt and signal boost.  I also enjoy comments.

In other other calorie free treats; aldersprig is in the lead up to her new Addergoole serial, go have a look at her journal and see if it might be your cup of tea; and ysabetwordsmith will be holding her Poetry Fishbowl on 7 August, her time.

Washup

I wrote this to ysabetwordsmith's second prompt.  This follows on from Complications Happen.

Once the dokk alfar half breeds were out of the way, the Tupenes was easy to pick up.  He was in the hotel and the bounty hunters had known it because of some interesting little talismans they were carrying.  Maired had pounced on them and carried them off for investigation.  She was distinctly heard to say, “Now that’s interesting.”

The Tupenes was deposited in the same lockup as his kinsmen and the bounty hunters were in the hands of the regular police who had many questions about the shorter one’s collection of useful items.  Gwaiva had stayed well out of the way once Hladvic and Mannix had bundled up the bounty hunters but she’d also had Vasa, Brise and a sympathetic female police sergeant help her check herself for anything they might have managed to tag her with.

Back in the base, over coffee and freshly baked biscuits, Gwaiva regained her equilibrium.  “I’ve never offered myself up on a plate to a bounty hunter before,” she commented as she hesitated over a choice between honey creams, something flavoured with rosewater and chocolate coconut roughs, “and if this is what it feels like I don’t think I’ll do it again, thank you.”

“I was wondering,” Bolt sat down with his own mug of coffee and picked up a honey cream biscuit, “why those two bounty hunters have such dark skin.  Humans with dark skin, like mine, have ancestors from the tropics but all the elven kindred come from the high northern hemisphere and most of them from northern Europe.  It doesn’t make sense.”

“Ah,” Gwaiva selected a rosewater thing and sat back.  “That was explained to me when I was a child.  You’ve probably been told that you have black skin, right?”

“Yes, quite a number of times.”  He ate half the biscuit and washed it down with coffee.

“You don’t of course.  Very few humans do and most of those who do are carrying a tan.  Your skin tones are based on melanin and the intensity of the colour is the result of a sensible multigenerational response to specific light stimuli.”  She ate a bite from her biscuit and went on, “The skin tones of the elven kindreds are based on their elements.  The two base-stock kindreds from which all other elves diverged are the ljos alfar and the dokk alfar.  The element of the ljos alfar is light, thus they have light skin, yellow to white hair and pale eyes.  The element of the dokk alfar is darkness or the absence of light thus their skin, hair and eyes come in shades of black.”

“So you have blue hair not because it’s the dominant gene but because you’re half ice elf?”  Bolt ate the other half of his biscuit.

“Yes, and my skin is pale and not pale blue because I’m half ljos alfar.  Essentially, I have two elements.”  She grinned and finished off her own biscuit before reaching for another.  “Sometimes I think those bounty placing jarls might be afraid of something.”