Another character??

I was driving home from work one day when a new character popped into my mind. I don’t know why or how, but i could already see her insanely clearly: she is 16, cast from society, living underground surrounded by natural hot springs. She hates it there, alone in the dampness. She hates being above ground even more; Athryn was born with the ability to see glimpses of the future. Only being in water helps keep the physically painful and emotionally destroying visions away.

i have a bit of rambling about her which i’ve put below. I don’t think i want to pull a full novel from her, but i’m not sure yet. i’m going to start with a short story and see how it feels!

and as always, i don’t edit for my site. this piece probably won’t even end up in my first draft! just feeling out the characters and the world.

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I’m pretty sure the biggest stalactite shifted three inches to the left. In the hours I’ve been staring at it, its dripped several hundred times into the shallow cave pool. The first circle, rippling outward, takes twelve seconds to reach me. Earlier today it took eleven. A newer stalactite, one looking barely longer than my forearm, drips onto my forehead. Cool water slides against my temple and I sigh. That one I’ve nicknamed Nicholas because of how truly irritating it is. I could also be hallucinating the stalactite moving, but that makes me feel weird inside. Better to believe it actually did than to realize it was all a lie, right?

The quiet echo of a door closing disrupts the peace of my sanctuary. The person’s steps loping toward this pool, knowing I’d deal with the dripping since the water is warmer. He doesn’t bother hiding his snort when he sees me, my head resting on a ratty folded towel to keep it off the painful rock edge. 

“When’s the last time you brushed your hair?” he asks. 

“What do you want,” I reply. My throat hurts. I glance at the clay pitcher beside my pool, wrinkling my nose at it when I see it’s on its side. The cup beside it is upright, but a gentle shake reveals its empty too.

“Pyck wants updates,” he says.

“Pyck is a dick.”

Nicholas snorts at the familiar rhyme. It’s an old joke, one I said when dick was the worst word I knew. It was one of the few times Nicholas laughed. It was more of a surprised noise than a real guffaw, but for being the same age as me, he acts a lot older, a lot more serious. That’s not to mean I act like I’m sixteen either. Life didn’t let us be children. 

The stalactite drips. 

“Have you eaten today?”

The downside of the cave pools? Besides the constantly wrinkled fingertips and musty smell, there’s no natural light. Pyck made sure there were vents to the surface, but they’re not enough to brighten the space. He had to protect his investment, he said. Back then I didn’t know what I needed protection from- I was eight and terrified. In the space of a day I went from brothel trainee to…this. Perpetually floating in water to keep the visions from destroying me. 

The warm light that reflects off the water comes from fire lanterns scattered throughout the cave. Pyck paid for the first ones, but I’ve had to save what little coin I make to have the magic inside renewed every year. I live underground yet find the dark spaces to be full of the whispers I’m hiding from.

I sigh and sit up, bristling against the cool air. Nicholas has a dry towel for me to use, holding it out as I step from the water. I wear a simple breastband and loincloth for his sake, though neither of us care about my nudity anymore. I refuse to wear something I could wear outside in the few times I actually leave this place. 

“Is it Saintsday?” 

“It still is, though barely. I brought hot food for you.”

There’s a tray on the small table beside my bed. A bread roll sits beside a bowl of something steaming. Nicholas leans against the uneven wall as I sit at my lonely chair.

The soup fulfills the requirements of all my food: hot and heavily seasoned. Besides the constant near- silence and flickering lights, it’s really boring in the caves. Only the small flames keep everything from looking incredibly bland. The shadows and white reflections dance together across every surface. When I first started living down here I’d make up stories about how the two were so close every moment, but could never be together. Shadow extinguished the light, and light could only chase shadow but never catch it. 

    “Is this from Brion’s?” I ask. When look up at Nicholas he’s already staring at me. 

    “Of course it is. Really though, when’s the last time you tried to put a comb through that mess?”

    I scowl at him. “You say that like I have someone to look pretty for. Is Pyck coming for a rare visit?” Pyck favored girls in the temptation house above the pools, not a soaking wet teenager more likely to drown him in three inches of water. Some nights I can hear the laughter over my head. 

    Nicholas rolls his eyes. “Where’s your comb? I don’t want to deal with another hair-related meltdown.” It takes him longer to say it than find my comb; I don’t have much. Delicate things grow mold, so I can’t have books or drawings. Flowers need light to grow, and besides, I wouldn’t be able to see them from the pool. 

    He’s gentler than he was the first time he tried to untangle my hair. Starting at the ends he slowly works his way up my back. I’m wiping out the inside of my bowl with the crunchy bread when his fingers gently touch the bare skin of my shoulder. 

    It’s enough to make me jump. 

    “Sorry,” he mutters. His concentration is on the lock of hair he picked up. The wide tooth comb soon touches the nape of my neck, and then I feel the teeth gently scraping along my head. 

    He breaks the silence with a whisper, trying to keep from spooking me again. “When will you let me cut your hair?”

    I shift in my seat to look at him. “I have few things in this world, Nicholas LASTNAME. If I cut my hair I'll have even less.”

    He smirks at that. “Athryn, are you finally admitting you like something?”

    I’d roll my eyes if a sudden dizziness didn’t have me gripping the back of my chair. "No, no, no-"

Nicholas immediately tosses the comb to my desk and carefully pulls me up. Between my desk and the pool I drop my towel and Nicholas guides me up the slippery steps and makes sure I don't fall. Dizziness hits again, forcing Nicholas to grab my other arm so I don't tip over. He slowly lowers me into the shallower part of the water, the hem of his pants soaking. I float at his feet, head touching his legs as the world rights itself again. 

"Thanks," I mutter.

"I could have gone to Pyke with that," he points out. 

I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. "Isn't he still making money from the last vision I gave him?"

Nicholas's silence means yes. Clearly it's not enough anymore if Pyke sent his messenger for another. 

I pull away from Nicholas and give the water a silent, rare thank you. He tries to grab me but I wave him off. He's done enough already. If Pyke knew I was about to have a vision and Nicholas helped stop it, the man would be angrier than tusked bulls in heat. 

Nicholas is silent as he leaves. I take a deep breath through the delayed nausea that always follows as he collects my empty bowl. The fire lanterns by the doorway flicker as he passes by.

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I have several thousand more words written but this is the best ending point. let me know if you find Athryn interesting!

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