Flood Waters Rising by Elizabeth Hirst

Author:Elizabeth Hirst [Hirst, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Furry, Fiction
Publisher: Elizabeth Hirst
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Flood Waters Rising

Time passed, and the occupation swept over the land like the shadow of Wardan’s dreaded hover city. Alalias was one of the first to ally himself with Saylim’s new regime, selling the services of his assassins to Saylim indefinitely. Chanir and I moved to the Death’s End, but our relationship remained the same.

Tyrius (Tai-Riahs) Spineheart, “Kattari-Rah Mah”

Sithon felt blurry. He shook out his virtual fur to dispel the feeling, but the fact that he couldn’t feel any fur shifting on his body only added to his sense of disembodiment. The fur on his arm ruffled back and forth in an implied breeze, but it looked too soft to be his. It blended too regularly with the play of light and shadow. It felt almost like being underwater, only without the pressure in his ears.

Vaedra trailed along a railing of carved white stone, coming toward him. She looked... more substantial, her bony corners rounded just enough to add an air of health to her appearance. The trench in her chest had disappeared entirely. She wore a cream-coloured drapery that attached at the shoulders with stylized golden clasps shaped like foamy waves. All Flood insignia had been destroyed at Toraus’s banishment as a symbol of his fall from honour, but Vaedra had drawn the Flood crest for Sithon many a time, and made sure that he knew how to draw it in turn.

Behind Vaedra curved a terrace lined with many soaring white arches. The keystones sported upturned wave motifs, the columns jumping fish with their tails curled around and their mouths open in wide o’s. Sithon remembered dangling from this very terrace as a young pup when the last of the railing gave way. It had been a jolly play area until Uncle Mardon had been forced to fish him back over the ledge. By that time, the stone had mouldered to a dingy, salt-and-pepper grey and all of the ornamentation had been knocked off of the walls by the banishment authorities. Sithon had always climbed up there for the view.

In the Second Skin, the green and black of the forest contrasted in new and striking ways. Clean, bright leaves with curvatures too perfect for nature stood against flat black shadows that cut along their edges with the precision of finely sharpened knives. The sky, of course, was blinding bright blue. The forest, a crowd of twisted growth curled around on itself, listed toward the compound. Vaedra had even recreated the gnarled old tree, barely more than an abnormally braided trunk with a few straggling leaves, that grew around the block of stone announcing the perimeter of Flood Waters. In this version of reality, no carved graffiti obscured the name.

Sithon leaned over the rail. Vaedra had added ornamental gardens to the lawn below.

“Since I haven’t needed to control the ship’s navigational functions for quite some time, I’ve been able to work on this little side project. What do you think, Sithon? Is it beautiful?” she said, leaning back to let the non-sunshine warm her face.

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