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|A Crystal Dream|
This is the first chapter of. If you enjoyed reading it, comment, review and/or provide constructive criticism. Thanks for reading.
Chapter 1: "A Crystal Dream"
A ship hovered through the morning skies. From its spot, the vessel partially eclipsed the scorching sun. It sailed through whitecaps of clouds, bringing forth illusions of flashing lights illuminating the sky. As birds sang beside it, two men walked inside it. They wore dark metallic armor with matching arm braces and shoulder plates. On their backs, they had spools of wires connected somehow. Despite their heavy outfits looking heavy, they gracefully fluttered through the ship. To their side, they passed sets of six by six feet cells. The chambers were occupied with bad-tempered men and women who snared and cursed at them as they passed.
"Settle down," One of the guards shook his fist at the inmates. "We're almost there."
They continued moving forward. The other man turned towards the guard that just talked. "Man Saikhan, these Triads have become more livid after the Avatar-"
Suddenly, a loud thumping noise exploded further ahead of them. They marched onward as wind busted into turbulence. It was as if something was trying to pull them. And, with the forceful guide of the wind, the men were coerced forward.
In front of them, a large dent on the side of the ship was decorated with peeled metal. Beside it, a person with black hair stood. The wind caressed its face and roughly blew the strands of its hair. Its eyes were closed, and didn't seem to see the men. Faster than a gust of wind, the men released metallic wires from the spools on their backs. The wires were pointed towards the figure.
"Stop!" Saikhan rushed forward.
"Sorry, gentlemen." The figure leaned toward the opening. "Thanks for the ride, but I think I'll be taking my leave now."
The wires remained floating in the air. They couldn't take the risk of damaging the ship even more. The person suddenly disappeared from view. The two men ran to the source of the wind tunnel. They looked downwards and their arms quickly shot forward. As the person fell, its eyes moved in and out as the wind fiercely rotated. It was like metal chains rattling through the wind. Because the airship blocked the sun, the figure saw a green flash before being submerged into darkness.
Later That Day
A woman sat perched behind a desk. Her hand delicately guided a pen onto paper.
The victims of this violence are benders and nonbenders. No one can be certain who next will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. Though against all odds, justice will prevail. But those who put the law into their own hands never achieve justice. They simply become mindless menaces of fear, sadness, or hatred. As the Chief of this police force, I will do everything in my power to protect and maintain equality. Neither vigilantes nor criminals will run these streets.
I swear on my Oath.
– Lin Beifong
Her pen stopped dancing across the page. She then grabbed an envelope and the paper off her desk. Placing the document inside, she stood firmly while sealing it. The woman in question began to move towards the door of the office she was in. After a soft click, she had opened the door and left the room.
She passed sets of six by six feet cells. The chambers were occupied with bad-tempered men and women who snared and cursed at her as she passed. Instead of looking away, she stared at each of them. Those faces were young, old, and everything in-between; they looked like a circus of generations. This world we live has no boundary on the cruelty that human beings can commit. They rather hide behind facades than conform to the real face of the world. Behind those masks, each one has a story. She believed no man was born evil; the world had changed them—some for the better and some for the worse.
"Chief Beifong!" a voice said behind her.
She turned around. "What is it Saikhan?" The Chief stared at the man who wore metallic armor and was saluting.
He walked closer to her. He held a small stack of folders. "Here's the name and photos of the new inmates." He held the folders out towards her.
She gently grabbed the stacks. "Thank you Lieutenant." The woman placed them underneath her arm. "Before you leave," She handed him the envelope she was holding. "I need you to deliver this."
The man in question grabbed the envelope. "Yes, Ma'am," He gave another salute, and walked in the opposite direction from her.
Chief Beifong opened the folder while starting to walk again. Each page had a photo, number, and reason for conviction. The first page started with 138804, a woman who seemed to have frizzed pieces of hair sticking everywhere. The chief read her crime, "Killed her friend for loving someone else." She sighed; just what she needed, another lunatic who thinks, if they can't have someone, no one can. Her eyes roamed uninterested with some of the other pages. They were all your usual stalking and murdering cases. On number 138813, she stopped her flipping. Her eyes hardened as she looked at the picture. It was a male, "17 years old. Name: Roan Remiro." It wasn't the obsidian hair with a red tint, but the indigo eyes the person had. Those eyes seemed to be stirring memories within her.
"A young boy was sitting cross-legged with six books on his head. His eyes were closed. They inexpertly opened as a beeping went off in the background. "Did I do it?" Bluish purple eyes stared directly in the direction of a woman for a response.
"Yes," Chief Beifong moved the picture from her face. "You really did it this time." She turned towards a nearby closed door and opened it. The room had dim light, flickering candles, but she still saw the figure resting on the desk in the middle of the room.
Just at the upper ridge, where the sun's blazing disk separated the clouds, each band eclipsed an incredible illusion of a green flash. Hovering over the nearby sea, the flash's illumination causes the sea to sparkle. Together, they illuminate a pathway of light towards land. Through sandy beaches, they slowly crept. They swam like sea serpents into a makeshift hospital room. Through one of the building's windows, a woman's image reflected. She was starring pass her own image. The sight she saw, a green flash enchanting the rising sun, was indeed a rare natural phenomenon. One after the other, the band's refraction of light lessened.
She placed her hand on her stomach. And, the woman began rubbing her bulging belly, and she whispered to her unborn child, "It won't be long before you come out."
A crackling of a door opening brought her attention away from the spectacular scenery. Two figures quietly entered through the door. The smaller one, a miniature figure of the taller one, carefully maneuvered his small, chubby fingers around a little tray that he was holding. On the other hand, the taller figure, a man in his mid to early thirties, held a much larger tray that had a wide arrangement of breakfast dishes.
A brief smile lit up her face, before it turned into a shadowy expression and she pointed a fierce glare in the direction of the man.
The man began to sweat as he stared back at the glaring, scowling pregnant woman. Assuming it was just another mood swing, he quietly placed the tray on the edge of a nearby table. The woman's glare never left his figure.
Taking a deep gulp, he asked in a terrified voice, "Honey... did I do something wrong?"
The intensifying of the glare was all the response he needed. Now sweating bullets, the man shrunk behind his miniature self. Unlike the terrified man, the child was oblivious to the tension in the room.
The child, a boy about four years old, walked towards the pregnant woman. His chubby cheeks and disheveled dark auburn hair matched the woman's own hair. A smile returned to her face as she made space for the child to sit beside her on the bed. Taking up her offer, the boy placed the small tray down and sat beside the pregnant woman.
"Momma, we made breakfast for you" the child said, before quietly beginning to yawn.
The mother moved closer to the boy. Resting her hands on the back of his head, she coaxed her fingers through his hair. Gently combing his wild curls, the expecting mother began humming softly. A few seconds later, the child was breathing lightly beside his mother.
She quietly whispered, "Thank you sweetheart, and now go to sleep Roan. Your father shouldn't have..."
The child was suddenly falling and falling downward. The bed, his father, and mother had disappeared; he was alone with the sound of razorblades piercing through the air.
In an instant, Roan's body staggered upward in a ferocious blur. He had been sleeping rigidly in a plain, cold black chair. That was before his mind took over. In his dreamlike state, he was oblivious to the person who had entered into the room. Dim light, flickering candles, and creepy statues made the room's scenery similar to that of a horror novel.
Roan scrunched up his eyes, carefully attempting to discover the identity of the figure. The person, who had knocked on the wall, was moving towards him. Each step the person took, the candles' light flickered.
As it aligned with the person's face, Roan exhaled a soft sigh of relief.
The light revealed a slightly old feminine face. Her dull and cloudy eyes, a marking of seeing the harshness of the world, still reminded Roan that even though some wars had ended, people were still fighting.
This woman's appearance was simply cold. He swore if there was a sun inside that room, it would've frozen over as soon as she had walked through the door.
The woman began striding towards him. Her movement, silent swift glides trailed by the light flapping of her dark, black jacket. Her aura, a mixture of leadership and sharp, icy temper, commandeered respect. Despite the room's dim flickering lights, her eyes were locked solely on him.
"Why?" she inquired.
"Really, you shouldn't have," Roan leaned back in his chair. "I know my birthday is near..."
His eyes strayed from her face looking through the room again. "But I don't think I can blow out all these can-"
"Cut the crap, Roan!" She slammed her hands on the table. "Why are you back in my city?"
Her fierce, piercing stare met a harmonizing wave of bluish purple, eyes that seemed to become dimmer or brighter as the light shined unsteadily in and out. The emotions in his eyes were like a dancing butterfly, passively and aggressively struggling against the howling icy winds of a turbulent storm. If the candles weren't in that room, it would still be lit-up with an illumination of a million frolicking butterflies threatening the impending darkness.
"You know..." Roan starred at her. "I would have never imagined a Master interrogating her favorite pupil."
She sat down on the chair opposite from him. "After three long years," Her hands tightened into fist. "You have the audacity to come back..." her question, "why?" still floated in the air.
"I was just passing by." he responded glancing at her tightened hands.
"No," She banged her fists on the table again. "You were wrecking one of my ships!"
"What," He waved his hands mockingly in the air, "metalbenders can't fix metal or something now?"
"Whatever Roan," she leaned forward over the table. "Tell me the real reason you returned."
He put his hands back down onto the table. "No, I am telling the truth," He quickly licked his lips. "I was just passing by."
She took noticed of his action. "Stop kidding yourself," She pointed at him. "Your hatred for the equa-"
The frolicking butterflies in Roan's eyes burst into flames, a boiling anger that banished the once harmony. His words and facial expression seemed like they weren't scorched by the dancing in his eyes, but were hidden underneath a sense of resignation.
"You're right; I do hate them," His right thumb fumbled with his other fingers. "But I just came here for answers."
"I see," the woman sighed, "even though you won't admit it, your hatred still clouds your judgment of the democracy we uphold here."
"No," He leaned closer as well. "I am just tired of being one of the victims of the terrors of so-called democracy."
The door beside them banged open. A man, clad in dark metallic armor with matching arm braces and shoulder plates, ran through the door. Despite wearing metallic boots, his movements were silent and swift. Just like the woman, his eyes showed a deep understanding of life, but none with the current situation.
His words rushed faster than his movement to notice all of the occupants in the room.
The Man gave the woman a salute. "Chief Beifong..."
"What is it, Lieutenant?" She moved away from leaning over the table.
"Sorry for interrupting," He glanced at Roan. "The Avatar's appearance is once again causing commotion."
Chief Beifong's eyes never strayed from Roan. "Another nuisance."
The lieutenant watching was paralyzed by uneasiness. The intensity of Chief Beifong's and Roan's glares were parallel polarized forces, one calmly freezing and the other burning restlessly, but refusing to meet in equilibrium. He knew this young man from the incident earlier this morning, but he rarely saw people able to argue back with her.
"That's right," Roan smirked, "Am I supposed to call you Master Beifong still or is Chief Beifong more suiting?"
"Whatever, you're free to go now." She leaned forward again and grabbed him by the collar. "I would have you rotting behind bars, but you're lucky, this city's council is full of snakes." She shoved him back into the chair. "We aren't finished talking yet."
She swiftly fluttered to the open door. She suddenly stopped at the door. "Be careful of snakes, one bite and your dead." Chief Beifong motioned her hands to man standing near the door. "Let's go Lieutenant." She walked out the door, never looking back.
- Title: Crystal City
- Fandom: The Legend of Korra
- If I owned the show, why would I be writing this? I am just a fan of this amazing series and writing for the love of writing. I own Roan's story and personality, but the image or his appearance belongs/ was influenced by ReojiSensay on Deviant art. I hope this story will entertain and possibly inspire other future authors or writers to take up writing. Please enjoy, and comment or review if you desire.
- Lin Beifong's letter is based on one of my favorite speeches and idols, RFK.
- Looking at this again, I'm unsure how well the flashback was done. What did you guys think of the flashback and the flow it had with the rest of the chapter?
- I definitely want to add a sense of politics which hopefully will build up as the story progresses.
- I think I'm going to edit some of the actions in between the dialogue to make them a little more interesting.
- is the link to my main page, once again.
For the collective works of the author, go here.