Bismarck's (attempts at) Dailies
An idea borrowed from PHB and PuppyToast. A daily writing challenge with a character and an emotion. A way to stay in practice and to explore characters and emotions. These are probably going to be more spotty now as I try to focus my creativity on other things.
Author's Notes
Character: Diedra
Emotion: Weary
Why I wrote this scene: A brief scene encapsulating Diedra's difficulty with the war in the north.
2019-06-28 - Diedra/Weary
Diedra awoke thanks to a dull pain in her hand and a particularly bright ray of sunlight that had snuck in through her window. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled over, but the pain in her hand continued and there was no ignoring it now. She sat up and lifted her left hand. The bandages had come loose in the night by the looks of it, and she pulled them off.
The black mark had changed. It was less of a hideous infection and more like... a tattoo now. Black curves spread outward like strange tendrils, and it had reached her wrist. The scar was still hurting. She pushed her sheets off and went to the bathroom, letting cold water run over her hand until the pain had abated. She leaned over the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Her leafy hair was as unkempt as ever, but she looked tired. Her left eye had a darker twinge to it than her right now. She eyed it for a moment, then sighed and let her head hang for a moment.
The apothecaries couldn't explain what had happened. One suggested some kind of poisoning from the crystal shards, but she had no other symptoms. Attempts to tend to the scar did little to stop the pain, only make it fade slightly. And her magic had changed now; it felt more difficult to do even the simplest things, things she had learned to do when she was a child. She splashed cool water over her face and moved to get dressed. When she bent over to pick up a piece of discarded clothing she'd left on the floor, a pain in her back flared up and she winced. Her older scars were starting to give her hell now, too. She gathered her possessions and dressed herself, analyzing a few scars as they did so. Nothing else was out of place, but they looked more... noticeable today. Glaring, even. Silva did not often scar, but she had plenty. She was eighteen and she hardly felt it anymore. Diedra wondered if John was feeling the same way. As she went to the door, she noticed a note with a message written in an elegant hand.
Speak with Maja when she returns today.
It was signed with a tiny mark that to the untrained eye resembled nothing, but Diedra knew it all too well as a stylized skull. She picked up the note with a frown, pocketed it, and went out the door.