This is the opening of a much longer work that I am currently writing. Any thoughts/comments/criticisms that you have will be greatly appreciated.
Heartbeat - Copyrighted 2007 by Sarah Haines
A heartbeat. That’s all it took for excited apprehension to invade her body and dominate her. It was all she needed to let her emotions take over, to be consumed by the thrill. A beat. A touch. That was all it took for Tariel to kill a man.
Tariel was a pretty girl who didn’t quite fit in with the crowd. Her dark hair hung long and loose, swirling around her face with the wind, and her garb suggested a wildness to her that her face denied. The girl vanished into the crowd with only a quick glance and a smile in the direction of the fresh corpse in the street.
They would never suspect murder—they never did. What reason did they have? A man dropped dead in the middle of the road. How could they blame anybody? How could anybody even think of blaming the young woman who was visiting their town?
No, it would probably be a mysterious illness, just like it usually was. After all, that man didn’t even realize he was murdered—how could the likes of them guess the truth?
It wouldn’t be long until this “illness” became a full-fledged epidemic; already she saw fear wherever she went. Tariel pushed her hair away from her face. Her master’s plan was going perfectly, and it was all because of her.
That last one was particularly nice. Instant death. He didn’t feel a thing. She could hardly keep herself from going back, just for a moment, to admire her work. There would be plenty of people there anyway; nobody would find it suspicious if she watched.
No. Tariel forced herself to keep going. She had to get back to the fortress as soon as possible, she didn’t want to make the others worry about her, or worse, get suspicious. If she hurried, she might be able to get home in time to get some sleep tonight—the night was still young.
“There she is!” Some yelled from behind her.
Tariel spun around and saw several men running after her. With a muttered curse, she ran. There was no way she would let herself get caught. Never. It was the one thing she couldn’t let happen—her master would kill her if their plot was discovered. Those fools would have to die, and they it would have to be tonight. She turned and stood her ground, letting her power flow her hand. It had been too long since she had been in a real fight, and she was looking forward to the chance to test her skill.
She smiled at the look of fear in her opponents eyes when her hand ignited. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Not what you were expecting?” She lifted the blazing hand. “Too bad for you. My name is Tariel, and yes I am a mage from Everal, but you’re not going to be living long enough to do anything about it.” Without a sound, without a change in her calm expression, Tariel released a burst of fire from her palm and watched it consume her pursuers. Satisfied, she turned to go home, too weary to notice that every eye was upon her. She didn’t care.
Realization hit her. This entire town now knew who and what she was, and she could not let it remain that way. Too much depended on secrecy. How could she have been so stupid? It was going to cost her that bit of rest she had been hoping for. Oh well, it was worth it to get rid of this scum.
She leapt to the top of a building and glared down at the worthless town. They were going to regret messing with her. Tariel lifted her hands above her head and poured her strength into the forming fireball. This was their punishment, this would be their death.
This was the night she would reveal her true power—and nobody would ever have to know. She unleashed the flame on the town and watched the homes crumble, watched the people die. She smiled as she watched the people try to escape, try to protect their children from her inferno. Another blaze fell upon the town. The screams of the dying rose above the crackling of the fire and filled the night. A third fireball struck. There was no escape.
A sharp pang of guilt struck Tariel—there were plenty of innocent people in this town that she was murdering. So many people were being consumed by her fire as punishment for doing nothing more than eating dinner with their families, for putting their children to bed….
She quickly repressed those thoughts. Yes, it was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do. That’s what her job was about: sometimes people died because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. All she could do was try to make it as quick as possible.
A fourth firestorm poured from her hands. Tariel jumped from her post and let the flame burn the building she had been sitting on as she landed safely on the ground. She was not afraid; she knew that her own fire would never hurt her. With a fifth blaze she made sure that everything was utterly destroyed, and then she called all the fire back to her, leaving nothing but ashes where the town had once stood. Only Tariel remained, victorious.
She looked around at her work; the thrill of the night had refreshed her more than any sleep could have. Even still, it was time to go home. People might get suspicious if she didn’t show up for breakfast, and neither she nor her master wanted that.
Heartbeat - Copyrighted 2007 by Sarah Haines
A heartbeat. That’s all it took for excited apprehension to invade her body and dominate her. It was all she needed to let her emotions take over, to be consumed by the thrill. A beat. A touch. That was all it took for Tariel to kill a man.
Tariel was a pretty girl who didn’t quite fit in with the crowd. Her dark hair hung long and loose, swirling around her face with the wind, and her garb suggested a wildness to her that her face denied. The girl vanished into the crowd with only a quick glance and a smile in the direction of the fresh corpse in the street.
They would never suspect murder—they never did. What reason did they have? A man dropped dead in the middle of the road. How could they blame anybody? How could anybody even think of blaming the young woman who was visiting their town?
No, it would probably be a mysterious illness, just like it usually was. After all, that man didn’t even realize he was murdered—how could the likes of them guess the truth?
It wouldn’t be long until this “illness” became a full-fledged epidemic; already she saw fear wherever she went. Tariel pushed her hair away from her face. Her master’s plan was going perfectly, and it was all because of her.
That last one was particularly nice. Instant death. He didn’t feel a thing. She could hardly keep herself from going back, just for a moment, to admire her work. There would be plenty of people there anyway; nobody would find it suspicious if she watched.
No. Tariel forced herself to keep going. She had to get back to the fortress as soon as possible, she didn’t want to make the others worry about her, or worse, get suspicious. If she hurried, she might be able to get home in time to get some sleep tonight—the night was still young.
“There she is!” Some yelled from behind her.
Tariel spun around and saw several men running after her. With a muttered curse, she ran. There was no way she would let herself get caught. Never. It was the one thing she couldn’t let happen—her master would kill her if their plot was discovered. Those fools would have to die, and they it would have to be tonight. She turned and stood her ground, letting her power flow her hand. It had been too long since she had been in a real fight, and she was looking forward to the chance to test her skill.
She smiled at the look of fear in her opponents eyes when her hand ignited. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Not what you were expecting?” She lifted the blazing hand. “Too bad for you. My name is Tariel, and yes I am a mage from Everal, but you’re not going to be living long enough to do anything about it.” Without a sound, without a change in her calm expression, Tariel released a burst of fire from her palm and watched it consume her pursuers. Satisfied, she turned to go home, too weary to notice that every eye was upon her. She didn’t care.
Realization hit her. This entire town now knew who and what she was, and she could not let it remain that way. Too much depended on secrecy. How could she have been so stupid? It was going to cost her that bit of rest she had been hoping for. Oh well, it was worth it to get rid of this scum.
She leapt to the top of a building and glared down at the worthless town. They were going to regret messing with her. Tariel lifted her hands above her head and poured her strength into the forming fireball. This was their punishment, this would be their death.
This was the night she would reveal her true power—and nobody would ever have to know. She unleashed the flame on the town and watched the homes crumble, watched the people die. She smiled as she watched the people try to escape, try to protect their children from her inferno. Another blaze fell upon the town. The screams of the dying rose above the crackling of the fire and filled the night. A third fireball struck. There was no escape.
A sharp pang of guilt struck Tariel—there were plenty of innocent people in this town that she was murdering. So many people were being consumed by her fire as punishment for doing nothing more than eating dinner with their families, for putting their children to bed….
She quickly repressed those thoughts. Yes, it was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do. That’s what her job was about: sometimes people died because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. All she could do was try to make it as quick as possible.
A fourth firestorm poured from her hands. Tariel jumped from her post and let the flame burn the building she had been sitting on as she landed safely on the ground. She was not afraid; she knew that her own fire would never hurt her. With a fifth blaze she made sure that everything was utterly destroyed, and then she called all the fire back to her, leaving nothing but ashes where the town had once stood. Only Tariel remained, victorious.
She looked around at her work; the thrill of the night had refreshed her more than any sleep could have. Even still, it was time to go home. People might get suspicious if she didn’t show up for breakfast, and neither she nor her master wanted that.
