March 16, 2010

Shadows In The Cave

Posted in Homecoming, Yaret tagged , , , , at 1:32 pm by E.V. Svetova

An excerpt from Homecoming, Book II: Longing. Yaret is snowed in in a cave next to the frozen body of his best friend, when he has an unexpected visitation.

“Who are you?”

“I am Llewelys dé Moire of the House of Silver. Greetings, Yaret.”

“You know me?”

“Truly,” replied the voice, speaking as if with difficulty. Then, the Alva made himself visible.

He looked like a statue carved out of fog and moonlight. His smooth pale face, in which Yaret couldn’t help but recognize his own features, appeared very youthful, yet dignity about his narrow figure was imposing, even intimidating. He had a high forehead, and eyebrows the color of new silver. His enormous, slightly slanted eyes were framed with long pale eyelashes. His high cheekbones tapered to a narrow jaw; the mouth was small and delicate, with an elusive expression like those of the Greek kouroi statues – an amused half-smile. His long shiny-white hair was elaborately decorated. He was a bit shorter than Yaret and much thinner, and could have looked like a beautiful youth decked out for some pagan ritual, if not for his ears peeking through the great mass of his hair. Longer than Yaret’s, his delicate leaf-shaped ears were unmistakenly inhuman.

The Alva wore chainmail of an unfamiliar weave and design; there was no sword on his chain belt. His garment was unlike anything Yaret had ever seen before: made out of shimmering silks that shifted colors ever so slightly, flowing yet precisely tailored. The tight fit did not constrict the graceful movements of the fine-boned body. Yaret, whose own delicate beauty had him confused with a woman all his life, looked like a savage strongman next to this being.

The Alva glided over and sank down by his side, the fabric of his garment spilling around like a pool of water. His pupilless eyes, clouded and clear at the same time, like polished opal cabochons, came so close that Yaret could count each silvery eyelash; suddenly, his eyelashes quivered; he leaned in, and placed a light kiss on Yaret’s lips.

“From me to you,” said the Alva, “Now, behold truly!”

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4 Comments »

  1. vita said,

    absolutely stunning! enjoying your work tremendously!

    • Katyok said,

      Thank you! Form one elf-freak to another…

  2. Nigel said,

    Wow! Very striking description! Very poetic in its’ style and timbre. You’ve successfully created a truly otherworldly atmosphere by Llewelys’ mere presence. I can see how Yaret might forget for a moment that he is freezing to death in a cave with his best friend dead at his feet.

    • Katyok said,

      He he… A kiss from an Alva would make you forget pretty much anything.


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