Friday, August 7, 2009

Hunt For The Dark Phoenix (Friday Fiction) Part 2

This week's Friday Fiction is hosted by Stina Rose @ her blog : Scroll Bag. Click here to read and share more great fiction!

Author's Note: I did not have as much time to edit this as I would have liked, but the idea of the story is still there. Enjoy! This is the second installment and Eira is off to a rocky start on her journey. I would love comments on this, so as I smooth out the bumps on the next piece, I'll know how to keep it coming. Have a great weekend!

The flight was uneventful for the most part, the only trouble that Eira had was getting herself explained as to where she was headed. Once the transport had docked at the station, she'd exited with most of the passengers and lined up to be registered as guests, visitors or residents.

She explained that she was going to be a visitor because she did not plan on staying long. The officer stamped "guest" on her pass and moved on to the next person in line. "Sir? Um, excuse me, but you said I'm a guest...I'm just a visitor, I won't be staying here long enough to be an actual guest...sir?" Her voice trailed off at the glare that was sent her way.The pass was grabbed, a piece of yellowed square slapped on front a double line stamped over the offending 'guest'. It now read "Visitor" stamped over guest.She sighed. Figured. "Thanks!" She called, sarcastic as the bustling crowd jostled her away from the platform. "Nevermind."

Her stomach growled and she dedicated the remainder of the day to finding a place she could afford to eat."Who would've thought Vanderoone was so expensive." She muttered, settling for an aisle vendor with something vaguely resembling a stuffied pie. She calcuated her change and decided she could spare enough to purchase for lunch and dinner and possibly breakfast.Tasting it first, proved to be fortunate, for it did taste good, but somewhat salty. Eira bargained with the vendor until he agreed to make a few salt-free. She eneded up paying him for an extra one to make up for the trouble.She was nearly on her way when she stopped and on a whim, asked him where she could find the Dark Phoenix. He stared at her long and hard for a moment, then suddenly pulled up the sides on his cart and hurried off.Eira blinked. "Okay...that was wierd."

Stuffing her mouth, she happily continued, wondering where exactly she should begin her search. It was said that the Dark Phoenix usually resided somehwere on the planet adjacent to Vanderoone, known formally as the planet Vandroxe.

She swallowed, gagging on a bit of root and managing to cough out the hard piece. She grimaced. "I guess you get what you pay for." She grumbled when the 'root' turned out to be a large chunk of rock salt. "Yecch!"Heading for the travel center she found an open counter with a friendly enough face to ask her the question. "This might sound crazy, but I'm looking for the Dark Phoenix, can you tell me-?" She stopped as the friendly face grew red then white and quickly expressionless as it turned away. "Nevermind." She c alled half-heartedly after the retreating figure. "I'll just find it on my own." She shook her head. "The Dark Phoenix is a legend, how come everyone here acts like he's their impending destruction?"

The wording of her thought allowed for a short laugh and she continued on merrily before finding a quiet place between too shops and settling down to rest for awhile. Hopefully she wouldn't be noticed and a little nap wouldn't hurt either...Eira's eyelids drooped, slowly, tiredly and then closed. It was a matter of seconds before she was fast asleep and completely unaware of the eyes watching her from the rooftops of the quaint shops.


Eira awoke to the rough shaking of an unfamiliar hand on her shoulder. "Huh..wha?" She mumbled, struggling to bring her sleeply brain up to speed with her already alert body.Finding the shaker to be a fuzzy looking male figure, she jerked away slightly. "Hey! Keep your hands to yourself." A mild threat, she rubbed her face lightly and stifled a yawn. "All right already, I'm up, what is it?"Her vision cleared enough for her to finally get a good look at the 'shaker'.

Vanderoone Elite Security Officers. A hand went to her mouth and she wiped it hurriedly, hoping there were no crumbs to show her hasty lunch. "Uh, can I help you with something?"

"I need to see your pass and ID." The Officer nearest demanded, his face set in an expression Eira didn't partiuclarly like.

"Sure. No problem, it's in my bag" Eira's voice trailed off as she started at the spot she'd been sleeping. There was no bag and nothing at all, save for her shadow staring back up at her. "I uh, great! How do I explain this, um, I'm really sorry, but I don't have it on me right now, I uh, had it in a bag and was sleeping and I guess someone took it. Sorry."

"No ID?" The next officer, taller and more rough-looking moved to the front of the group. "No pass?"

Eira shook her head cautiously. "No. I had. Now I don't. I think someone stole them." She rubbed her neck and then her forehead. It was a sure sign of something bad to come, the aches only surfaced when her powers were needed. She tried not to groan. She had a feeling it wouldn't go over very well.

"The people of Vanderoone are not thieves." The skinny officer chimed. His voice squeaky and high-pitched.

Eira wondered if she could tune him with a tuning fork."I didn't say that they were, I just said that I had a bag with me and now I don't and the only obvious answer to that is that somebody or something stole it from right out under me."

"You are implying of course that someon from Vanderoone 'stole' your bag then?" The first officer said.

Eira closed her eyes for a moment. "no. No. No. No! I am not saying anything of the sort, I am not implying that I have anything to say at all on the subject of thievery, I am merely saying that my bag is missing and seeing as you are the current officers and authorities on this staion, shouldn't you be logging it down as lost or missing or something? I have valuable things in there!"

"it doesn't matter what she says she sounds like she is saying something that makes absolutely no sense at all." But as the second officer spoke a faint smile was visible on his face. "Do you have anyone to verfiy your story, ma'am?"

Eira blinked. "No, well, sort of and not really. But I can call family who'll vouch for me!" She suggested, hopeful.The officers shrugged as one and Squeaky suggested that she follow them to headquarters. She willingly followed in hopes of getting the entire mess all sorted out. She wasn't feeling too hopeful about the recovery of her personal belongings until she happened to catch sight of the young Sardonean male standing innocently in linef for a junk seller. he happened to be holding a very familar bag."Uh, officers?" She tapped the one nearest to her and pointed striaght. "That boy has my bag."

She turned back in time to see the trio exchange a three-way glance. "What? I know it's mine. I can prove it if I get hold of it!"

"Right." The first officer muttered. "I suppose you'll prove it by way of the bag's contents."

Eira's eyes narrowed to mere slits. "No. Of course not. That would hardly be credible, now would it?" She snapped.Before either of them could com after her, she stalked off towards the kid and tapped his shoulder. He turned lazily and for a milli-second a flicker of fear pass through his red eyes. His face contorted to a half-glare. "What'd ya want, lady?"

Eira fixed her red-brown eyes on his meaningfully, her temper was already frayed and sparking. "I think you know what I want. You have my bag and don't even try arguing for it. I'm half Sar and if I need to get my bag back by arguing for the sake of insanity, I'll be happy to do it. I've had plenty of practice."

The boy looked at her incredulously and turned his back to her, moving forward in the line. Eira felt her temper prick until the officers stepped up and asked him to step aside and show the contents of the bag.He did. The duffel was empty and battered and there was practically nothing of great worth in or from it, except maybe it was worth a few Vrid from the Junkman. He smiled mockingly as he was allowed to return to to his place in line.Eira felt her temper before she saw it. "Oh Eira." She murmured, closing her eyes.

It was a struggle to hold her temper in check, a forever battle giving to one side and then to the other. Mostly giving in to her constant inner pleading. Today she lost.Red energy pooled rapidly at her fingertips and she cocked one hand as her eyes flew open. She heard quiet gasps and the usual rustling as the 'audience' adjusted themselves to be further away from her.She tilted her head easily...and smiled. "My name is Eira." Her voice grated. "And I draw on every mark that I have made on all objects in this station belonging to me."

The air was tense and silent as the noise ceased.Then the rattling started. Quiet and then more insistent as several objects suddenly hurtled through the air, people scrambling to stay out of the way from it as it flew to Eira and hovered just a few inches away in mid-air.Her eyes glowed blood-red and the energy hadn't left her hands. Suddenly, the duffel the boy had been holding. Jerked. Hard and flew through the air towards her. She caught it with her free hand...and smiled.

Served him right.

Copyright (c) Sara Harricharan


Hoomi said...

Heh heh... don't make her angry... you wouldn't like her when she's angry.

I'm betting part III is going to show that her display was NOT appreciated by the local authorities.

Good start on the story, Sara.

J.H. said...

+ I agree, you could use a comment or three. Hi again, Sara! So I started on blogger two hours ago to read and comment on part 2, then got side-tracked trying to figure out what "Friday Fiction" is--still don't think I get it. I thought it was something you created where every Friday you post a short fiction piece. Some weeks you have guest writers post, ya know, like in church when a guest speaker is invited to speak. But it seems other writers here, that aren't your followers, do something similar; now I'm thinking the fiction on Friday idea is more of a tradition, or sub-culture aspect of the literary culture as a whole. Am I close?
+ Ok, let's comment. Eira "Hulks-out", congratulations; but it's not very convincing. "It was a struggle to hold her temper in check" you say in paragraph 24, but you could have shown it a lot more. Where's her "wtf" (that's "what the 'freak'" by the way) expression when the officer says "The people of Vanderoone are not thieves." If there are no thieves then why are there authorities?!
Why isn't she brooding on how she could 'power' away from the authorities whether she uses someone to vouch her ID or not? By the way, that would be an excellent way to silently explain some of her abilities so you don't have to depend on her one line: "...I draw on every mark that I have made on all objects in this station belonging to me." It was vague. Do you mean anything she owns she can simply 'summon' to herself telepathically?
Finally, why isn't she seething with irritation at the boy after she summons her belongings back? "You little..." or "I oughta just..." or she makes as if to strangle him, then retreats; that communicates much more of a struggle to resist acted out anger than "Served him right."
+ Why do you need to have the security officers in this scene anyway? Eira could have just awoken, found her bag was missing, and used her powers to get it back. It would have afforded you some more words to use on describing her surroundings which, you still haven't done yet! Now we're in Vanderoone and I still don't know how the people appear, what they wear, the kind of words they use ("Vrid" makes for a minor exception), or the color of the sky. These are some thoughts, meant in a non-scathing manner. I know I'm verbose. Hope this is helpful.

Sara Harricharan @ Fiction Fusion said...

Hi again, J.H.! Thanks so much for reading part two--I am really enjoying your perspective on this story. Thanks for taking the time to leave helpful feedback. I have quite a few issues with this installment as it was started nearly three years ago and stalled out around installment #7. I decided to work on it again this year, to use it as a filler for Friday Fiction, because I was too busy to write a new short piece every week. (Which is an extremely poor excuse, I know.) Your comment has been extremely helpful, I greatly appreciate the feedback and the time and effort you put it into it--many thanks! It helps tremendously when I wrestle with the manuscript edits. ^_^

*Friday Fiction is a weekly blog meme hosted by different writers every week. (your guess was close!) Currently, Karlene Jacobsen @ Homespun Expressions is the organizer. Every week a different blogger 'hosts' by posting their short story and a link-sharing widget at the end of the post. Other bloggers participating that week stop by and read/comment and share their links to their Friday Fiction stories. Anyone can participate. It's great fun!