Fireworks: A Liveblogging

Hmm, fireworks are happening

*goes up to his roof*

Kelsey has signed off.

Kelsey_iPod has signed on.

Whoa

I can see three different fireworks shows from up here

And I can hear a fourth

And a loooot of echoes

Those fireworks sound like gunshots

And those ones sound like explosions

Those ones sound like thunder

And those ones sound like when you delete a stone block in Minecraft

It's so neat, I hear a firework from one direction and I hear its echoes from a bunch of directions all around me

Whoa

I think they used like twelve times as many fireworks in the finale as they did during the rest of the show

This whole time it was like "oh hmm fireworks"

And then at the end it was like "WHOA FIREWORKS"

Kelsey has signed on.

Kelsey_iPod has signed off.

Light (part four)

Aelph's grandson had grown rich and prosperous in the city near his homeland. Through adroit manipulation and steady progress through the bureaucracy of that place, he became the first advisor to the King's chancellor, himself known as the power behind the throne. Thus he was established when Jasmine came to his town.

She did not know where to look for him, as she had never expected that he would rise so high; but her unusual appearance, clothing worn paper-thin beneath her great cloak, quickly spawned rumors all around town - and Aelph's grandson made it his business to hear all the rumors. On a hunch, he arranged to meet her, and was overjoyed to meet his sister once more. Brother and sister alike scarcely recognized each-other, so were they changed by time and experience.

They talked into the twilight, Aelph's grandson feasting his sister on delicacies as they recounted the hardships and triumphs in the time that separated their last meeting from the present. Each hid somewhat of the truth. Aelph's grandson told nothing of the silver idol, the gift from his father, that he had sold to begin his journey; Jasmine said nothing of the living brother that Jasmine had abandoned to finish her journey. Then, slowly, the conversation petered out.

"Do you have them?" Aelph's grandson asked.

Jasmine swept aside dishes, placed each treasure upon the table. The ancient greatcloak, white-furred and magnificent even in its decrepitude. The steel-forged sword, long as a man's arm, nearly unmarred by nick or scratch. And the golden necklace, chain still severed from the blow that knocked it from the merchant prince's neck... but did not kill him.

"Is it over, then?" Aelph's grandson asked. "Can I return home to my father, and tell him that justice is served - my quest complete?"

Jasmine opened her mouth to speak. Then something caught her eye - a star, the first of the night. She looked at it, and its light, inexplicably, prompted in her a memory. She remembered the beggar on the streets of the distant city, tortured and worse for no reason but existing. And she remembered the crest on the uniforms of the horsemen that tortured the beggar - the crest of the merchant prince, Aelph's brother.

Jasmine closed her mouth. She lowered her head, ashamed of what she had nearly done. Then she apologized to her brother - apologized for the lie of omission she had told him. Now she told the truth - that the quest was not yet over, not while Aelph's last brother yet lived. She told of the inhumanities that his minions callously perpetrated, and vowed that she would not again forsake her duty - that, in the morning, she would return to the city where that prince made his residence, and finish the task she had begun. Then, tears in her eyes, she looked at her brother again, and apologized for destroying his faith in her. She rose from the table.

Her brother shouted, urging her back. Tears were in his eyes, too. With a hoarse throat, he told her that he, too, had lied - had kept the silver idol for himself, and used it for his own gain. He had justified it to himself before, he explained - why would Jasmine need such wealth for her task? - but, seeing her ragged and thin, his guilt plagued him. Yet it was only Jasmine's own confession that prompted his.

Both siblings were silent a moment, absorbing the revelations each had given the other. Then Jasmine's brother spoke again. He would help Jasmine, he said - with his position and personal wealth, he would give her new clothes, food, supplies. There was some trade between this city and that of the merchant prince - Jasmine's brother would arrange a trade mission, with Jasmine at its head. Rather than climbing over broken glass to gain entry, Jasmine would simply walk in; rather than hiding in the rafters, Jasmine would walk up to Aelph's middle brother, face-to-face.

The merchant prince squinted as Jasmine walked up, wearing great finery and surrounded by her own guards. The cloak and gold necklace were with Jasmine's brother, in the far city. As Jasmine approached within feet, her hand moving towards her sword, the merchant prince's face cleared as he recognized her. Jasmine drew her sword and charged as her quarry fled, screaming to his guards. The guards clashed with Jasmine's, and Jasmine chased Aelph's brother alone, finally cornering him in a small garden near the rear of the palace.

Aelph's middle brother begged for mercy. Jasmine offered none.

In his last moments, as the starlight shone down brightly on him, Aelph's brother whispered, "...I always envied his wit..."

Months later, Aelph's grandson formally returned the three treasures to his father, bodyguards lurking discreetly in the background. As his father, smiling broadly, began the manhood ceremony, Jasmine visited her family - so long abandoned. They asked questions - where were you, why did you leave? She answered none, but only asked questions of her own. She admired newborn siblings, praised her younger sister's growth (and slipped her a note, with a finger to her lips), and then, as the manhood ceremony reached its conclusion, Jasmine quietly vanished.

And that is her happy ending.

Light (part three)

Aelph's grandson had months ago had abandoned his quest to avenge Aelph's death by the hands of his three brothers, giving it (and two of his father's three gifts) to his sister, who took it up in his stead. While he awaited her return, the grandson had become resident in a city near his homeland. In this place, he worked as a bureaucrat, watching his lessers and superiors alike in fear of betrayal and hope of advancement. That latter hope was sooner met; when they were toppled (tragically) by scandal and disgrace, the grandson gained power through quick exploitation of his superiors' failings. He rose steadily, enough to provoke fear from those above him, but not enough to justify action on their part. And as he acquired power for himself, he gained wealth, as well. No longer did he live in the small apartment he first rented in that city, but in a rich villa, outside the city; his clothes studded with gems and gold.

A great distance away, in a place linked only by long and difficult trade routes to the city of the grandson's residence, Jasmine, Aelph's granddaughter, strode wearily through the gates of a great and gleaming city. Her clothes were dirty, tattered, and ill-fitting, stolen from the bodies of dead refugees on the side of the road; her finances being entirely emptied by the difficulties of travel. Her purse was filled only by the wind. She walked alone; for most of the journey she had traveled with merchants and caravans as a guard, allowing her to avoid starvation, but this last stretch she had made alone.

For all her poverty, Jasmine cut an impressive figure as she walked through the streets of the city. She was yet bound beneath her clothes, to present the appearance of a youth, not a woman. Her cloak, taken from Aelph's oldest brother, swirled around her, somewhat concealing her poverty; the sword at her side, long and steel-forged, was an unspoken threat. A dagger-hilt protruded from her coarsely patched boots, the only item Jasmine had managed to save from the beginning of her journey.

She had come to this city with the last of her knowledge: that Aelph's middle brother, the only one yet breathing, had come to this city some time after his betrayal, and made of himself a merchant prince. On her journey, she had learned more with his name: that he was a power, keeping a private army on his estates, and holding many secrets with which to manipulate the others of equal wealth. She had considered some plans for his death, and the retrieval of the last of Aelph's legacy, the golden necklace, but much rested upon the men guarding him. So she walked through the streets, heading for his palace.

The streets were lined with rich facades, every wall richly painted. Onion domes and corkscrew towers reached upwards proudly. The road was empty of beggars and vagrants. A squad of cavalry cantered through a cross-road as Jasmine walked through, passers-by fearfully giving way to them. Jasmine stepped aside, and otherwise refused to acknowledge their presence; they, fat and cowardly, looked at her and decided to take no action, instead spying a poor beggar, lurching from an alleyway. The beggar, clearly both destitute and desperate, raised her arms to the cavalrymen, begging for pity. Laughing, they reached out with their weapons and impaled the beggar cruelly; Jasmine broke into a jog, so as to quicker escape the sound of their sport. The reason for the absence of the poor was now much clearer to her.

Unsurprisingly, the gates to the merchant prince's palace were guarded. Jasmine requested entry; the guard, guardedly, requested a bribe, and that being (necessarily) refused, requested that Jasmine take a hike. Having done so, Jasmine rounded the nearest corner and scaled the wall in seconds. Broken glass topped the wall; Jasmine avoided the shards and vaulted over, onto the roof of the interior building. Voices from inside cried out in surprise at the thud of Jasmine's boots on their roof; Jasmine ran onwards and climbed upwards, outrunning their complaint. She was atop the palace.

In the rafters of the prince's cavernous dining hall, Jasmine watched the merchant prince, her greatuncle, at his meal. She considered poison; but as she could not bribe the guard outside, she could not bribe his food-tasters. She considered hurling her dagger down upon him; but there was no guarantee that she would hit him, much less kill him, and besides, she was fond of the blade, it being the last thing she had from her home. So, other options sadly refuted, Jasmine made her way over to the rear wall, and dropped to the ground.

Her left palm skimmed the wall as she fell, to slow her; her right drew out the sword of her grandfather. Even as Jasmine landed, the guards to either side of the merchant prince were reacting; she slew the rightmore of the two with a single stroke of flashing steel, and as the other drew blade and swung, Jasmine pulled back her sword and retaliated in kind, smashing the guard's dress sword like so much clay and cutting him down where he stood.

The guests were jumping to their feet, panic in their faces; other guards were drawing swords or crossbows. Jasmine's gaze focused on the man in front of her: the merchant prince. He stood and turned, recognition not yet in his face.

Jasmine's sword freed itself from the guard's corpse, flashed down.

With a painful crash, the sword hit a hidden coat of armour and rebounded. Jasmine winced as the blow strained the scars on her palm and arm; the prince fell backwards, smashed downwards by the force of the blow. His necklace, still worn after all these years, puddled at Jasmine's feet, severed by the blow.

Jasmine froze. She would only have one choice. More guards were approaching, and she could see bolts being fitted into crossbows. Deciding, she stole the necklace from the floor where it lay, and ran, fleeing through a servant's entrance in the back. Guards followed; she slew the first through the door and ran again, leaving confusion and disorder in her wake. Twice bolts flew at her; the first missing, the second lodging itself in her cloak, harmless. Jasmine made her escape, panting and gasping at city's edge, and considered.

Her attack would not work twice. Guards would be alert, looking for her, and more numerous; a direct attack would result in failure or death. And in her hands she held the golden necklace; the third part of the sign her father had asked for, to prove the three brothers' deaths.

She had vowed to return to her brother, when the quest was done, and the three treacherous brothers were slain. With a heavy heart, she set out on the road to their promised meeting place.

The proof of her success lay in her hands, as the merchant prince oppressed his people behind her.

Night fell, cloudy and moonless. For Jasmine, there was no light.

Light (part two of three, unless there are four)

Aelph's grandson was given the quest of avenging his grandfather. This, in fear, he abandoned to Jasmine, his sister. His father, Aelph's son, gave him three gifts to help in his quest; the knife and torches he had given to his sister, but the precious silver idol he had kept for himself, Jasmine all unknowing. They agreed to meet a year later; and in the interim, Aelph's son went out into the world on his own, to avoid his father's wrath.

He wandered for a little time, foraging as he had been taught, and came to a city. He had heard of the corruption rife in that place, and selling the idol, meant for his quest, he bought a place in their government - a low place, but one that might be used to pull himself higher. Aelph's grandson was not a simple man, nor a reckless one; he bided his time, and hoarded what scraps of power he could steal from those above him, waiting patiently.

A hundred miles away, Jasmine walked along a dirt road. The merchant she was escorting walked a few feet from her left, leading his mule, looking at her suspiciously. She ignored him, watching the road instead. The little coinage in her purse was quiet; bought from the sale of her torches (but not the dagger), it had sufficed to keep her fed until a traveler (going in the right direction) hired her as a guard. This was her fourth job of the type, and the scant moneys she had earned from each were lost by the time the next came along. Jasmine was poor, and looked it, wearing tattered clothes beneath a large and ancient cloak, her only weapon a crude iron dagger at her side.

But for all the difficulties she had faced on the road from the snowy mountain peak (lessened by her disguise as a man), she had arrived at the youngest brother's camp. He had taken Aelph's steel-forged sword, and with it established himself as a mercenary. Decades later, as Jasmine had found in her travels, he now led a mercenary company, infamous for the massacres and atrocities rumour attributed to it. Most of them were real.

The merchant greeted the sentries at the gates of the mercenary camp, slipping both a few coins, and proceeded inwards. He set up his shop near the main barracks, selling weapons and knick-knacks. Business was fair; some of the mercenaries eyed the goods with greed in their eyes, but while Jasmine stood nearby, her hand conspicuously on her dagger, and the merchant himself negotiated with a loaded crossbow at his knee, the mercenaries were unwilling to act.

The sun fell, hours later. The merchant packed up his wares and left. Near the gates, Jasmine indicated to the merchant her intent to perform bodily functions and meet him later, then walked away, vanishing into the darkness. Her dirk held in her hand, she walked to the commander's tent - a tent larger than many inns. Stumbling somewhat in the gloom, Jasmine cut her way into the tent and entered, creeping up on the sleeping commander. The only light in the tent was the faint starlight from the hole Jasmine had cut in the tent flap. Hesitant, she looked down at Aelph's brother's sleeping form; uncertain of her will to kill a sleeping man.

Then he erupted from his bed, roaring and swinging the steel-forged sword, which his hand had been creeping toward since he was awakened by Jasmine's clumsy entry. Jasmine jumped back in shock, receiving a nasty gash on her arm. She lunged at the brother, trying to correct her mistake; but he parried, seeing her silhouetted against the starlight from the tent flap. Mercenaries entered, carrying torches and swords, and Jasmine fled, her cape swirling behind her.

She ran swiftly, clutching her injured arm close to her body. The scar on her palm ached from the exertion of battle. Behind her she heard the yells of pursuers; but the torches they carried blinded them, and guided only by starlight, Jasmine escaped into the hills at the edges of the mercenary camp.

Binding her arm with cloth from her already tattered clothes, Jasmine considered her failure. Indecision had stayed her hand, and it was certain now that the mercenaries would place guards to preclude a second attempt. For a little while she despaired, drifting in and out of sleep. Then, in the early hours of the morning, she awoke to attend to nature's call; and, as she did, noticed a certain flower upon the ground. This flower, her mother had taught her, should be avoided; for its pollen was a deadly poison.

Jasmine thought of an idea.

After resting a few hours more, she harvested several of the flowers. She emptied out her coin-purse into her cloak and filled the purse with the flowers. Then she hid the cloak, the only distinctive thing the mercenaries would have seen of her in the dark, and walked down to the camp, heading for the pillar of smoke rising into the sky.

The mercenaries' kitchen was filled with cooks and helpers, busily preparing the mercenaries' morning meal. With her head bowed, in her ragged clothes, Jasmine fit right in. Mistaking her for an assistant (as Jasmine had intended), a cook handed her a dish, pointing to the large tent to which she was to deliver it - the clamor was too great for any words to be heard. In the tent were the leaders of the mercenaries - Aelph's brother and his six lieutenants, distinctive for their ostentatious jewelry, well-maintained weapons, and personally delivered meals. Aelph's brother waved Jasmine over, taking the meal, and then handed her a goblet, demanding wine. There was no recognition in his eyes. As she left, he returned to his conversation with his lieutenants, complaining about the attack last night.

Jasmine took the goblet to the head cook, getting it filled with wine, then, holding it carefully to avoid spills, very carefully shook the flowers' pollen into it. They disappeared into the wine.

Aelph's youngest brother looked at Jasmine as she entered. She became nervous, but continued to walk toward him, holding the wine; then she froze as he grabbed her. Musingly, he told her, "You remind me of my brother. Something about your features." He looked at her closely. "I don't regret it. You're just like him - I always envied his grace."

Jasmine looked into his face.

She handed him the wine.

As she left the tent, behind her, Aelph's brother had begun to cough.

Jasmine remained nearby, lurking in a barracks deserted for breakfast. Soon, she saw Aelph's brother's lieutenants rush out, shouting and waving their arms - then his mercenaries rushed into the tent, exclaiming with dismay. The cooks were dragged out and executed; Jasmine winced. One lieutenant took the steel-forged sword out of the tent; another followed, yelling, and drew his own sword. The situation seemed poised for a bloodbath; then something was said that caused the lieutenants to lower their swords. The steel-forged sword was passed to a serving boy, who took it to another tent. Jasmine intercepted him.

She tried to persuade him that it would be easier for him to give to her to carry, leaving him to a moment of leisure. He was disbelieving. Jasmine drew her dirk; then handed it to him, hilt-first. The exchange was made, and Jasmine, once out of sight, ran for the hills. Her grandfather's sword swung at her side.

[This thing has been a draft since, ah, Christmas Eve, apparently. I've had it outlined from before that - just a pain to get it written. Hope you enjoyed it!]

Light (apparently part one, huh)

Starlight glimmered.

Aelph laughed. "This is no place for a meeting!" he told his brothers. "It is cold, and dark, and wet! Why, I cannot even see your faces with the cloaks you wear to cover them! All I can see is the glint of your... knives..."

His brothers divided Aelph's possessions among them. The eldest took his golden necklace, the youngest took his steel-forged sword, and the middle child, last to make his claim, took his fur-lined cloak. Then they scattered to the far corners of the earth, knowing that each of them would turn on the others just as willingly as they had turned on Aelph.

Aelph had a son. He saw Aelph's corpse, the morning after the brothers fled, and wept. Realizing what had occurred (and what had been taken), he considered pursuit; but he knew not where they went, and had little guile or skill at arms to overcome them with. So he bided. Years passed. Aelph's son learned little of the brothers, and grew preoccupied with other matters, though he never truly forgot the betrayal. He married, twice; had five daughters, and two sons.

One of the sons lived to manhood. His father, Aelph's son, presented him with a quest: to find the three brothers, reclaim that which they had stolen, and avenge Aelph's death. Three presents he gave: A silver statue, three inches high, of the messenger-god; an iron dirk; and a sheaf of torches. With this Aelph's grandson left his father's camp.

But he was too much like his father. He excelled neither in wit nor athleticism; nor, either, in will. He sat down, out of sight from the camp, to cry at this harsh fate assigned to him on what should have been a day of triumph (his birthday! his coming of age!), and was surprised to see his eldest sister approach him.

Her name was Jasmine, and she had an offer for him. She would take his place, adventure to avenge Aelph and claim his treasures; her brother would go out into the world for one year, with no quest but survival, and return to that spot to meet her and receive the treasures. Thus would he avoid that bitter fate he dreaded, and she know the satisfaction of her grandfather's betrayal avenged.

He agreed, of course. To aid Jasmine, he told her all he knew of the three brothers, and gave to her the iron dirk and torches his father had gifted him with for the quest; but some covetous instinct in him made him keep the silver statue. Jasmine had not been there when Aelph's son gave the gifts; so, not knowing her lack, set out.

After the first night on the road, she made to disguise herself as a man, wearing trousers and binding her breasts, that she would not be harassed as a woman by bandits, and that word reaching Aelph's son of her adventures would be taken for those of her brother. She was told that the middle brother had settled closest; a bandit, he stalked the peaks with his murderous band, committing atrocities too terrible to name. Twice the city-men had caught him, but both times he had abandoned his comrades to escape, slipping through their net. This was what Jasmine knew of him, and she had no plan but that which she devised as she walked.

One week's walk took her to the mountains. There, she walked slowly through the summer snow, and jingled her purse (half-filled with flimsy copper) at every opportunity. The chill was such that she lit a torch to warm herself. The bandits came predictably; two of them, more than enough to rob a traveler so slim and unintimidating as she. As the bandits approached from each side, Jasmine threw her torch at one, blinding him, then lunged at the other. She ducked under his clumsy swing, drew blood on his chest, then with a more careful slice cut his neck. The other bandit regained sight to his sword tossed down the mountain and Jasmine's knife at his neck. "Bring me to your leader," she advised, and he, nervously, commenced.

Night had fallen by the time they reached the bandit camp. The bandit walked nervously up to the camp, followed by Jasmine two feet behind, carrying another torch. His comrades rose, surprised at the visit. One shouted, "Bringing us a gift, Erl?" Then they noticed his missing sword.

All of them stood and drew weapons, watching each-other as well as Jasmine. One particularly large one, grey of hair but thick of thew, strode before Jasmine and smashed his axe into the bandit's gut. Watching Jasmine (and holding a dagger in his other hand), the man looted the bandit's body, then let it drop to the ground. Cleaning his axe, he belatedly asked, "And why are you here, little boy?"

An old, fur-lined cloak hung on his back.

"You must be Aelph's middle brother," she commented. Her heart pounded nervously.

A black, grimy grin filled the man's mouth. "So I am, though I have not been called such for a very long time," he told Jasmine. "Do you come here to kill me? The odds are against you." The bandits moved closer.

"Because you can't kill one boy, armed only with a dagger?" she asked him caustically.

The bandits stood back.

"Very well, then," Aelph's brother roared. Starlight gleamed off his axe as he twirled it dramatically in the air; then he charged Jasmine. Anticipating this, Jasmine sidestepped and ducked, trying to cut his tendons. She missed, but he roared in pain nonetheless.

Now he looked at her with a new light in his eyes. Hefting his axe thoughtfully, he walked towards her; then, without warning, he lifted his axe and slammed it down in a vertical blow at Jasmine. For a moment she panicked; then she ducked and dodged to the left, swinging with her dagger again. She scored a hit, and drew back to stab for the heart while he was still drawing back his axe.

A dagger appeared in his left hand.

Jasmine reached out and grabbed with her left hand, trying to hold the dagger back.

Slowly, Aelph's brother overpowered Jasmine, grinning.

Starlight glinted on the blades.

Jasmine leaned forward and embedded her iron dirk into the bandit chief's chest.

"I always envied his smile," Aelph's middle brother told Jasmine earnestly.

Blood tricked from his mouth. He toppled slowly, and Jasmine drew the dagger from his chest.

Taking the cloak, she walked away, wincing. Behind her, the bandits swarmed over the corpse, weapons drawn. As the sounds of battle faded into the distance, Jasmine looked at her left palm, wondering why it hurt so.

It was bleeding.

She had grabbed the dagger by the blade.

"I thought it would hurt more," she said, seemingly calmly; then, overcome by shock, fell into the snow.

[apparently this is part one because it is way way longer than I anticipated. Well, more tomorrow. Maybe all of it, who knows.]

[you'd think I'd have learned to anticipate these things by now.]