Asilynne
14th December 2011, 01:46 PM
Disclaimer: The following is the tip of the iceberg that was my NaNo. I wrote a lot more than this, however I plan on eventually editing and expanding the whole thing into a full out book eventually, so even this little bit I am posting right now is subject to change. I just want to post it because so far, I'm liking it and I'm hoping by doing so I can spur myself to keep writing :) So keep that in mind as you read it, don't be brutal! lol
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~~FireWater~~
At the Dawn of Man, the sun was god.
It was the bright, life giving eye of the world that only closed when night came, signalling to early man that it was time to sleep as well. It was the fiery orb of the sky, possessing both the power to gently warm and scorch the Earth and those which dwelt upon it. It used to be worshipped, revered, studied and watched for signs of what was to come.
To those early denizens of the wild, untamed, infant Earth, the sun represented Fire. Fire was life, passion, anger, those human emotions that drove one forward. Fire was protection, light, warmth, comfort; a gentle friend and guide in the cold and in the night. Fire was good food, fellowship; almost a living being itself, and it brought people together as a community.
It didn’t take long for those early sons of Man to find out, however, that fire was also a weapon. It could destroy as easily as comfort, though nearly alive it could only do the bidding of its master, and when out of control it could rage and consume all. Fire could turn on you in a heartbeat, and kill friend as well as foe. To this day it still calls us. It’s hypnotising flicker like the writhing dance of a lover, its soft crackle a seductive whisper in our ears.
For above all, fire is power.
~*~*~*~
The sun hung lazily in the sky, suspended just above the horizon, beginning its descent into the sea as another day drew to a close. Due to the westward progress of the airship, however, the sun had seemed motionless in its descent for some time during their travels, as though it feared being extinguished within the still waters of the Pacific Ocean. The idea that the mighty sun could be afraid of anything seemed a laughable one.
Captain Gloria York agreed, as she watched the sun, perched on the horizon like an eagle surveying its hunting grounds, from the top deck of The HMAS Maiden’s Fortune. She was almost like an eagle herself in both appearance and focus. Her sharp, watchful green eyes never wavered from looking forward, her slim frame straight, regal and smartly dressed in the decorated red uniform of the British Colony Air Patrol. Her slightly curled, reddish brown hair, a hallmark of her family’s Irish heritage, danced slightly in the gusts of cool wind despite being covered by her hat and properly tied back. It was this very slight movement in times such as these of thought and determination that belied her humanity, and made one realise that she was not in fact a very intense looking statue.
The fiery red of the setting sun bathed the world in its red-orange glow and appeared to turn the water below the airship into a sea of fire. At this, the Captain smiled, her eyes glowing with their own internal flame. To see a sign of fire conquering water was a pleasing sign as the journey neared its end. She felt, rather than heard her first mate, Commander Brigh Richardson, approach and take her place beside her, fixing her calm, reserved gaze upon the horizon as well. Silence passed between the two women, the kind of amicable, companionable silence between people who trust each other implicitly, as the sun finally gave up its claim to the sky and began to sink into the sea.
“The sun is leaving us,” the Commander spoke in a voice which belied nothing of her thoughts on the matter. “Hardly a propitious omen, so say the more superstitious amongst the crew.” She glanced sideways at Captain York, amusement twinkling in her eyes even as she continued to speak with grave seriousness. “I fear it will not be long before we have a mutiny on our hands.”
The Captain closed her eyes, a smirk twitching at her lips as she steadied her gaze on her first mate, straightening her uniform and adopting a tone of mock seriousness. “Well then, this simply will not do. We must prepare a statement to quell this insidious uprising. ‘Dearest crew;’ are you taking this down, Richardson?” The Commander grinned broadly, all pretext of seriousness lost from her face as she watched her Captain clasp her left hand behind her back. Putting her right hand to her breast Captain York spoke as though reciting a speech.
“Dearest crew of Her Majesty’s Airship the Maiden’s Fortune,
Fear not loyal officers and citizens of the Crown’s Great Colony of the Americas, for the sun has not abandoned us upon our arrival to the Queen’s New Zealand. As a matter of fact, I, a staunch defender of the sun’s actions, am making it known that the sun will be commended for its services to the British Empire, as it has not only stayed awake long past its bedtime to provide light and warmth to the people of this crew, but it has also proven an invaluable and indispensable guide to our navigators as well as a welcome companion to us all on this most arduous of journeys.”
The Captain allowed a smile to show through her fictionally grave expression as she watched her second in command cover her mouth in a failed attempt at preserving her dignity, her shoulders shaking with restrained mirth. Removing her crisp, white gloved hand from her heart, Captain York turned and saluted the west smartly, the sun at this point having dipped almost completely below the horizon.
“There fore,” The Captain continued, holding her salute as she stared after the departing sun. “By the Grace of God and my authority as Captain of this vessel, I grant thee, Sun, official permission to depart the horizon. May it rest well and awake to grace the skies above our beloved Queen, rousing her gently from sleep with its sacred light, and further traverse across England and our fair Colony before reuniting with us once again.” She paused a moment, finishing her salute with a flourish, before glancing back at her Commander. “Have you got all of that, Richardson?”
Now sporting a full blown grin, the Captain of the Maiden’s Fortune looked to her devoted first officer, who had helplessly dissolved into giggling like a schoolgirl. Her face was nearly as red as the uniform they both wore as she struggled to regain her composure, wiping tears from her eyes daintily with one shaking, white gloved hand. Clearing her throat politely, she brushed a lock of her hair, brown and cut neatly to frame her face, behind her ear. When she spoke she could not keep the smile from creeping its way into her voice.
“Yes Captain. Let it be known to all, on this the twenty second day of April, in the year of our Lord 1881, the Sun has been granted permission by our illustrious Captain to depart the heavens. Thus, through her incredible foresight, she has single handedly avoided mutiny, the destruction of the ship, and yes, even saved the Empire. Truly, this day shall go down in history.”
“I don’t know about that Commander,” The Captain gave a wink to her friend and fellow officer as she patted her companionably on the back, guiding her to walk with her as they headed towards the Captain’s study. “After all, it was only in a day’s work, saving the Empire and all.”
Their laughter, hardy and full of camaraderie, was carried on the salty, night wind, blown aft towards the East and home and was ultimately lost amidst the sounds of steam and machinery. The HMAS Maiden’s Fortune sped its way through the starry backdrop, above the eddies of the Pacific currents. Its destination, New Zealand, lay just before it, a beautiful, lush green jewel of an island, and was one of the British Empire’s many colonies. But this was not a pleasure cruise, far from it, and both Captain and Commander knew that the laughter they shared on this night before the dawning of their fate may very well be their last for quite a while.
They knew that they had not just flown into the setting sun, nor the darkness of night, but into the shadow of war.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~FireWater~~
At the Dawn of Man, the sun was god.
It was the bright, life giving eye of the world that only closed when night came, signalling to early man that it was time to sleep as well. It was the fiery orb of the sky, possessing both the power to gently warm and scorch the Earth and those which dwelt upon it. It used to be worshipped, revered, studied and watched for signs of what was to come.
To those early denizens of the wild, untamed, infant Earth, the sun represented Fire. Fire was life, passion, anger, those human emotions that drove one forward. Fire was protection, light, warmth, comfort; a gentle friend and guide in the cold and in the night. Fire was good food, fellowship; almost a living being itself, and it brought people together as a community.
It didn’t take long for those early sons of Man to find out, however, that fire was also a weapon. It could destroy as easily as comfort, though nearly alive it could only do the bidding of its master, and when out of control it could rage and consume all. Fire could turn on you in a heartbeat, and kill friend as well as foe. To this day it still calls us. It’s hypnotising flicker like the writhing dance of a lover, its soft crackle a seductive whisper in our ears.
For above all, fire is power.
~*~*~*~
The sun hung lazily in the sky, suspended just above the horizon, beginning its descent into the sea as another day drew to a close. Due to the westward progress of the airship, however, the sun had seemed motionless in its descent for some time during their travels, as though it feared being extinguished within the still waters of the Pacific Ocean. The idea that the mighty sun could be afraid of anything seemed a laughable one.
Captain Gloria York agreed, as she watched the sun, perched on the horizon like an eagle surveying its hunting grounds, from the top deck of The HMAS Maiden’s Fortune. She was almost like an eagle herself in both appearance and focus. Her sharp, watchful green eyes never wavered from looking forward, her slim frame straight, regal and smartly dressed in the decorated red uniform of the British Colony Air Patrol. Her slightly curled, reddish brown hair, a hallmark of her family’s Irish heritage, danced slightly in the gusts of cool wind despite being covered by her hat and properly tied back. It was this very slight movement in times such as these of thought and determination that belied her humanity, and made one realise that she was not in fact a very intense looking statue.
The fiery red of the setting sun bathed the world in its red-orange glow and appeared to turn the water below the airship into a sea of fire. At this, the Captain smiled, her eyes glowing with their own internal flame. To see a sign of fire conquering water was a pleasing sign as the journey neared its end. She felt, rather than heard her first mate, Commander Brigh Richardson, approach and take her place beside her, fixing her calm, reserved gaze upon the horizon as well. Silence passed between the two women, the kind of amicable, companionable silence between people who trust each other implicitly, as the sun finally gave up its claim to the sky and began to sink into the sea.
“The sun is leaving us,” the Commander spoke in a voice which belied nothing of her thoughts on the matter. “Hardly a propitious omen, so say the more superstitious amongst the crew.” She glanced sideways at Captain York, amusement twinkling in her eyes even as she continued to speak with grave seriousness. “I fear it will not be long before we have a mutiny on our hands.”
The Captain closed her eyes, a smirk twitching at her lips as she steadied her gaze on her first mate, straightening her uniform and adopting a tone of mock seriousness. “Well then, this simply will not do. We must prepare a statement to quell this insidious uprising. ‘Dearest crew;’ are you taking this down, Richardson?” The Commander grinned broadly, all pretext of seriousness lost from her face as she watched her Captain clasp her left hand behind her back. Putting her right hand to her breast Captain York spoke as though reciting a speech.
“Dearest crew of Her Majesty’s Airship the Maiden’s Fortune,
Fear not loyal officers and citizens of the Crown’s Great Colony of the Americas, for the sun has not abandoned us upon our arrival to the Queen’s New Zealand. As a matter of fact, I, a staunch defender of the sun’s actions, am making it known that the sun will be commended for its services to the British Empire, as it has not only stayed awake long past its bedtime to provide light and warmth to the people of this crew, but it has also proven an invaluable and indispensable guide to our navigators as well as a welcome companion to us all on this most arduous of journeys.”
The Captain allowed a smile to show through her fictionally grave expression as she watched her second in command cover her mouth in a failed attempt at preserving her dignity, her shoulders shaking with restrained mirth. Removing her crisp, white gloved hand from her heart, Captain York turned and saluted the west smartly, the sun at this point having dipped almost completely below the horizon.
“There fore,” The Captain continued, holding her salute as she stared after the departing sun. “By the Grace of God and my authority as Captain of this vessel, I grant thee, Sun, official permission to depart the horizon. May it rest well and awake to grace the skies above our beloved Queen, rousing her gently from sleep with its sacred light, and further traverse across England and our fair Colony before reuniting with us once again.” She paused a moment, finishing her salute with a flourish, before glancing back at her Commander. “Have you got all of that, Richardson?”
Now sporting a full blown grin, the Captain of the Maiden’s Fortune looked to her devoted first officer, who had helplessly dissolved into giggling like a schoolgirl. Her face was nearly as red as the uniform they both wore as she struggled to regain her composure, wiping tears from her eyes daintily with one shaking, white gloved hand. Clearing her throat politely, she brushed a lock of her hair, brown and cut neatly to frame her face, behind her ear. When she spoke she could not keep the smile from creeping its way into her voice.
“Yes Captain. Let it be known to all, on this the twenty second day of April, in the year of our Lord 1881, the Sun has been granted permission by our illustrious Captain to depart the heavens. Thus, through her incredible foresight, she has single handedly avoided mutiny, the destruction of the ship, and yes, even saved the Empire. Truly, this day shall go down in history.”
“I don’t know about that Commander,” The Captain gave a wink to her friend and fellow officer as she patted her companionably on the back, guiding her to walk with her as they headed towards the Captain’s study. “After all, it was only in a day’s work, saving the Empire and all.”
Their laughter, hardy and full of camaraderie, was carried on the salty, night wind, blown aft towards the East and home and was ultimately lost amidst the sounds of steam and machinery. The HMAS Maiden’s Fortune sped its way through the starry backdrop, above the eddies of the Pacific currents. Its destination, New Zealand, lay just before it, a beautiful, lush green jewel of an island, and was one of the British Empire’s many colonies. But this was not a pleasure cruise, far from it, and both Captain and Commander knew that the laughter they shared on this night before the dawning of their fate may very well be their last for quite a while.
They knew that they had not just flown into the setting sun, nor the darkness of night, but into the shadow of war.