At A Glance

Below is a short piece of creative writing based on a concept I'm working on. It's rough round the edges and not grammatically correct throughout, that much I know. I hope those of you who read it enjoy the idea at least!

"One face represents birth, the beginning of mankind
One face represents death, the inevitable end to all things under the Suns
One face represents love, the capacity for which knows no bounds
One face represents hate, the depths to which are without limit
One face represents light, the bringer of life to all creatures and plants
One face represents dark, the shadows within which the Raalshza dwell
One face represents earth, from which we come and to which we shall return
One face represents fire, the fickle element that can take away as much as it can give"

Elias sighed, pushing the book back down flat against the covers of his bed. Glancing at the timepiece upon the wall, he realised that he had managed a measely twenty minutes of revision. Rolling onto his back with another silence-shattering sigh, he clasped his hands beneath his head, rubbing at his scalp absently, still not used to the close-cropped hair he'd been forced to have after joining the guild. Looking up at the ceiling some two feet above his face, he sighed again and yawned.

"Oh do be quiet, Elias! How am I supposed to study if all I hear is your bloody sighing every few seconds?" The voice, originating from the bunk below Elias sounded thin and reedy. Elias grinned and rolled his eyes, letting loose an extra loud sigh before leaning over the side of his bed and looking down at his roomate below who merely stared back with a look of irritation, through wire-rimmed spectacles the like of which Elias had only seen worn by the masters of the guild.

"Look, Bertie, this stuff is so dull I'm about to go out of my mind. It's nothing but Prism this and Prism that and, really, who believes all that in this day and age anyway?" Bertram Filsche frowned, the lines barely showing on his forehead where the skin seemed to be too tight to be healthy. Not for the first time, he inwardly cursed his luck at being lumbered with having Elias Rothgild as a roommate. Swallowing his simmering temper he curtly responded, "It isn't a question of whether one believes it or not, Elias. To understand the nature of Prisonic Flow, you have to understand the very purpose of the Prism itself! Have you not listened to a word that Bertha said? And stop calling me Bertie. Only my Grandmother calls me that."

Elias snorted and yawned again, looking down at his diminutive roomate with a look bordering on scorn. "That old bag? By the Second Face, Bertie, she's more interested in her next meal than showing us how to control the Flow!"

Tutting loudly and gritting his teeth with annoyance, Bertram turned back to his book of manuscripts. "The trouble with you Elias, is that you're a hypocrite of the highest order. You say you don't believe in the Prism, but you're at this guild to learn the power of the Flow! You even take Its name in vain! Add to that the fact that you seem far more interested in chasing the girls at the acrobat college than studying the nature of the Flow and I can't see how you're any different to how you claim Bertha to be. Honestly, Elias, just get on with your studies or leave me be because I am, at least interested in passing the test tomorrow."

Climbing down from his bunk, Elias scratched idly at his crotch as close as he could manage to Bertram without actually having to contort himself into an odd shape. Bertram, disgusted, recoiled up the far end of his bed before burying his face back in his book. "You're revolting, Elias! Bloody leave me alone!" Grinning again, Elias chuckled quietly to himself before taking a step out of the room and into the corridor. As he does so, Bertram sighs gently and starts to read the same page for the tenth time, desperately hoping that the information will go in and stay in this time. Somehow, he finds himself counting the words on the page rather than actually reading them. Finally giving up, he buries his face in his pillow and starts to whimper, softly.

Out in the corridor, Elias starts to undo the top few thongs of his tunic, tugging the neck open into a deep V shape so that he could show off the few curly brown hairs on his chest that he had spent the last three years carefully cultivating ever since he turned sixteen. Satisfied that they were on display, he sucked in his gut which was slightly distended like a stodgy pudding from two years of heavy drinking and good food, and strode purposefully across the wooden floor towards the staircase. "Now, it's Ausby night and I've got fourteen hours to burn before the test! Where to start, where to start?"

Letting out a whoop of laughter, Elias started down the stairs, fully intent on heading straight to the acrobats college to pursue his favourite quarry. He knew full well he'd ace the test tomorrow and he couldn't wait to see the face on that simpering goit Bertram's face when he got a Distinction in Prism Theory. Sometimes it paid to simply lie back and think of Helios. Well after all, it was for a good cause. Thinking of Bertha dropping her robe and revealing herself to him the night before sent an involuntary shiver up his spine as he skipped the last few steps to the front door of the lodgehouse, landing with a thump. Trying to shake the repugnant memory from his mind, he told himself he'd soon forget about it as soon as he managed to corner one of the feisty acrobat girls and drag her along to the Gash and Dribble Inn. After all, he was Elias Rothgild, third cousin, twice-removed to the son of the Emperor-Divine himself! What woman could refuse that? Opening the heavy oaken door, he stepped out into the night beaming from ear to ear at the prospect of what the evening ahead may soon hold.