Click here to read Part One.
Normally, the girl wouldn’t have screamed. It took a lot more than a single arrow to faze her. But when the tree exploded into a mass of razor-sharp spikes of ice, it was too much. The horse reared and spun to the left, nearly bucking its riders off of its back. The girl wrapped her arms tightly around the boy as the horse galloped off towards the west. Several more arrows followed, but, fortunately, none were nearly as close as the first. Still, the girl gasped every time a tree was demolished into shards of ice. As soon as the arrows stopped, the boy — with some difficulty — slowed the horse and turned it around to get a good look at what was behind them. They both sat, speechless, and gazed on as a storm of ice approached. Trees, bushes, grass, and anything else in the path of the huge army froze and crumbled to the ground, leaving a frozen wasteland in its wake. After the initial shock, the boy started trying to calculate numbers. Any army that helped them would want as much information as they could get. If they believe us at all. The boy’s heart sank as he had the thought. Why would anyone believe them? What proof could they give? “What are you waiting for?” the girl asked after a few moments. “They're coming. We need to get out of here. And we can't go to Stormport, they're coming from the northwest. Cliffhaven is—” “We need one of their weapons, and we’re not leaving until we get one,” the boy interrupted. “No sane person is going to believe that an army of ice monsters is chasing us unless we have solid proof.” “So what do we do? Walk up and ask them for one of their swords?” The girl let out a mirthless laugh. “I'm sure that will go well.” “Great idea,” the boy answered. “Hold on.” He dug his feet into the horses sides, and after a moment of hesitation, it started towards the advancing line of ice. “What are you doing?” the girl yelled over the sound of the horses galloping hooves. “Asking them for a few arrows,” the boy answered. When the girl started to protest, he turned to face her. “Trust me. Please.” She pursed her lips and stared ahead for several moments, but finally nodded. “Thank you,” the boy said, and turned back towards the ice. As soon as they were within what he judged to be an arrow shot away, he spun the horse around and yelled over his shoulder, “Excuse me! Could we borrow a few of those ice arrows please?” He was rewarded with a half dozen arrows, one of which narrowly missed the horse’s leg. “Cover me!” he shouted as he jumped down to the ground. The girl yanked her bow out of its place among the supplies and quickly nocked an arrow. The boy began to gather the arrows from the frosty ground, careful not to touch the blue-ish metal tips, which he presumed was where the ice power came from. He was proved correct when he touched the tip of one to an as of yet unfrozen piece of ground, and the grass crumbled into ice chips. He looked down at his boots, which were starting to frost over as well. Quickly grabbing the last two arrows, he swung himself up onto the horse’s back. As he did, the girl released her arrow and quickly nocked another. “We've got at least ten coming at us,” she told him as she fired another arrow. “They’re on foot, but I'd suggest we get out of here.” The boy kicked the horses sides — though it hardly needed any encouragement to flee the ice, which had begun creeping up its hooves. They shot off towards the southwest, quickly leaving the range of the enemy’s arrows. Once it was obvious that they had escaped, the girl let out a laugh. A real laugh. “I can't believe that actually worked!” “It was your idea,” the boy answered. She slapped his shoulder. “I know when I was being an idiot, you don't have to rub it in.” The boy laughed. “You weren't. You just needed a little hope. We all do sometimes.” The girl smiled. “Thank you.” “Any time,” he answered. “I have to say though, I'd probably be dead if it weren't for your shooting skills. You must've had an excellent teacher.” She slapped him again. “So, I'm not allowed to compliment you at all, or…?” The girl rolled her eyes and replaced her bow. She started to turn back around, but changed her mind and grabbed one of her arrows. “Can I see one of those ice arrows?” she asked. “Sure,” the boy answered. “Just be careful not to touch the tip, that's where the ice comes from.” He let go of the reins for a moment, selected an arrow, and handed it back to the girl. “Thank you,” she said, grabbing the shaft. She carefully examined the arrow for several seconds. Standard arrow, nothing odd about it. Except the tip… she thought as she examined the metal arrowhead. It did, as the boy had noted earlier, have a blue tint, but it was a bit more complex than that. In a few places, it looked like plain steel, but most of it had a nearly transparent blue coating covering it. Looks almost like ice. She placed her hand near it, and felt intense cold radiating off of it. She drew it back quickly, shivering. He was right, she thought, glancing up at the boy. Whatever this is, it's definitely supernatural. Carefully, holding the arrow away from herself, the boy, and the horse, she touched the tip of the ice arrow to the tip of hers. She watched in fascination as the metal arrowhead slowly frosted over and then began disintegrating. When it reached the wooden shaft, however, it moved so quickly that it appeared to explode into pieces of ice, as the trees had back in the forest. With a short cry, she let the few pieces of ice she had caught fall to the ground and drew her hand back towards herself. It was unnaturally cold, and her skin had turned a pale shade of blue. After a few frightening moments, though, it returned to normal. She tapped the boy’s shoulder and held the arrow out to him. He took it and put it back in his left hand, which held the other five arrows. “Where are we going now?” she asked. “Cliffhaven,” the boy answered. “As you said, it's closest and has the largest army. I've heard that it also has the largest library on the island. If we can find out anywhere about the power the commander of the ice army wields, it'll be there.” The girl nodded. “To Cliffhaven, then.” Written by Elia Tyson Edited by The Flabbits Copyright © 2018 by The Flabbit Room
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The embers of a dying fire glowed faintly in the gray light of early dawn. Standing, the boy threw a few more handfuls of brush and a couple of sticks onto the brightest spot, then sat back down. A hesitant flame caught and grew, lighting the sticks.
That should last another few minutes, he decided. At some point he'd have to go find some real firewood, but he didn't want to leave the girl here by herself. He threw a glance at her, lying on her side with her face towards the warmth of the fire. A few strands of her hair fluttered gently on the light breeze. The boy sighed and turned his gaze back to the small blaze. I should wake her, he thought. But he didn't move. She looked too peaceful, too innocent to be forced to return to the harsh reality of the real world. So he let her sleep as the red sun rose and climbed towards the treetops. Since he couldn't actually talk to the girl at the moment, he thought back over some of their previous conversations. He smiled, remembering the day she had insisted that if only she could find one, she was sure she could hatch a lightningdrake egg. His smile faded, though, as he remembered some very different conversations. It seemed that whenever the topics of home or family came up, the girl quickly changed the subject. He shrugged, deciding not to let it bother him. Everyone had their secrets, and sometimes they weren't ready to tell them to anyone, even their closest friend. Grass rustled as the girl began to stir. The boy turned to her as she opened her eyes and sat up. She looked towards the east and squinted. “Why didn't you wake me earlier?” The boy hesitated a moment. “You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to be the one to drag you back into…” he lifted his gloved hand and gestured to the trees around them, “this.” She frowned, but didn't say anything else as she stood. As she spun in a slow circle, taking in their surroundings, her frown deepened. Seeing this, the boy’s expression darkened as well. Before the attack, she’d had only smiles for him. Now…. “Hey,” he said, jumping up. “Why don't we do some hunting. We need food.” And I want to see that smile of yours again, he silently added. He wasn't completely disappointed. Her face lightened slightly and she hurried over to where her bow lay on the ground next to the supply pack. The boy let a smile creep onto his lips as picked up his own bow. His mind wandered back to the first time they had hunted together. The girl had been so excited that she had nearly dumped his bow into a stream when he’d handed it to her. They slowly walked the two hundred or so yards to the nearby stream, then sat down to wait. As they did, the boy couldn’t stop his gaze from straying to her face every minute or so. Finally, he asked the question that he had been asking himself over and over for the last two days, trying to tell himself that it was the only reason he kept looking at her. “How did you escape?” The girl looked down at the ground and let go of her bowstring to pull at a tuft of grass. “I wasn’t at… home. I was on the outskirts of town when the screams started. I only watched long enough to see the first few buildings turn to ice. After that, I ran.” She stopped, and a tear fell onto the grass. The boy frowned, remembering that he'd been trying to cheer her up. It was too late now, though, so when she continued he didn't stop her. “I shouldn't have. If I’d gone back to help my family, maybe…” “You couldn’t have done anything,” the boy said. “When I grabbed you in that field, they were only a few paces behind you.” “I know,” she said quietly. “I know. But I could've at least tried. Like you did. You were going back when you found me.” “I had a horse. And a sword,” the boy answered. “It doesn't matter now.” The girl wiped a tear off her cheek. “They're dead. They're all dead.” “And we’re not,” the boy added. After a few moments of silence, he said, “Maybe it's reversible. It was obviously done by some supernatural power. If we could get that power for ourselves, we could undo it.” “And where do you suppose we would find this power?” the girl asked, glaring at the stream, more tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. “I don't know.” The boy gently laid his hand on her cheek and pulled her gaze towards his. “But we can try.” The girl looked up at him, and the beginning of a smile crept onto her lips. At about noon, they climbed onto the horse and left the camp behind, not bothering to douse the glowing embers that were left from the fire. This whole forest will be ice before long anyway, the boy thought grimly. “Where are we heading?” the girl asked as he turned the horse southeast. “Stormport,” he answered, offering no further explanation. “Why?” the girl asked. “Cliffhaven is much closer and has a larger army.” “From a port city we can quickly get help from other port cities, as well as from the mainland if need be,” he answered. “The mainland is eight week’s voyage away. The island will be an iceberg by the time help arrives from there. If it ever did at all. We're not exactly on good terms with—” “I know, I know,” the boy cut in. His real reason for wanting to get to Stormport was more twofold. Of course he wanted to alert an army to the impending doom. But also, and perhaps even more importantly, in his mind, was to get the girl off the island as soon as possible. He couldn't tell her this, of course. She would never stand for it. But he was determined, nonetheless. After a few minutes of tense silence, the girl pointed out an usually large fleetwing, and they fell into an extended conversation about wild birds. As the mood lightened, they both began to relax. This actually feels pretty normal, the boy thought. I can't even count the number of times we've ridden around in the forest together, looking at and discussing different plants and animals. “You know,” the boy said, “this isn't so bad.” “No?” The girl raised an eyebrow. “All I've been thinking about is what I've lost, but I forgot to think about what I still have,” he answered. “And what is that?” she asked, unsure whether she should be angry or try to join him in his positive thinking. “You,” he said. “You're my best friend, and one of the most important things in the world to me. I have a feeling that as long as you're here, everything will be fine.” The girl smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. The same goes for me, I guess.” Just as the boy was starting to respond, the first arrow flew past them and embedded itself in a tree ten paces away. Written by Elia Tyson Edited by The Flabbits Copyright © 2018 by The Flabbit Room Before the beginning there was not nothing. The Indescribable was there, Whose vast pleasure it was to create time and space. These He created as a labyrinth of light, complex in beauty, full and blinding. But not only such things did He create, but someone to explore them.
The man. Being woven from strands of silver and gold, his hair was alight and eyes seeing. Life flowed through him in majestic grace. But the light surrounding was too great for him to comprehend. And turning in every direction he saw only labyrinth. So The Indescribable pulled a strand from every weave and formed a path; An endless path for the man to follow, endless so he could explore the glory forever. The start of the path was a great globe, holding light in such a way as is understandable by the man. And spoken to the man was this, “It is called Ildathore, It is Our Meaning. I give you reign to tame it, explore it, and find whatever you may find. Study the weaving of light.” Looking down at the pulsing light beneath his feet, the man said, “But where do I start?” He wondered at the beauty around him, searching for a place to begin. “Look.” Turning, the man saw the light being woven, it’s strands intertwining, forming something. At the very center, a sapphire orb jumped to and fro. Around the sapphire was created a wall of armor scales, boasting emerald light. Legs and forelegs extended, and the creature stood up showing its strength. Opening a great mouth, the beast roared, and wings spread from its back. The beast knelt before man, and his Creator spoke. “This is where you may start, go forth in the beautiful, and weave.” Man closed his eyes. He nodded and opened them. Speaking to the beast, he said, “Bethoch you shall be called. And first of all, I give you a place to rest.” So he went to his knees on the sphere of light and beauty, and set his hand down. The light began separating, each weave of color was rewoven, letting it hold a beauty of its own. The man took a single thread, and formed it into a plant. Then kneeling down, he whispered to it and, as the power of the creation flowed through his words, it grew, covering the orb in many different shapes and colors. Still on his knees, he pulled up a small patch of plant, called grass, and sees the light under it. Reaching forth again the man touched a different thread and turned it to hard rock, silent, yet lively. Ever pushing and shifting. But between the rock and the grass he wove a layer of dirt. And turning back to Bethoch he said, “I give you this place called dirt, to be your bed. Now go to stretch your wings.” Bowing, the beast turned and leaped into the air, letting wings of beauty carrying him on what came about as wind. And as man watched the beast go, he saw the sky darken, but not before small lights were placed up. A light breeze blew, and he realized he was watching the creator at work again, forming the universe beyond his reach. But when this happened, a joy lit up in him. In the beauty of night, man grasped more light and began weaving it. He turned about, finding delight in weaving beasts of all kind, naming them, and setting them loose, as the rocks grew together, setting forth land, and the dirt created beds, covered in springy grass. The man then turned about, looking to tell someone of his joy, but every beast was not as he. None could man create to be as he. So turning back to the creator, man called out, asking for another creature to be with him, one to sense as he did, one to live in accordance with, exploring. And from behind came a voice… “Delightfull… All of it is.” And upon turning about, man was speechless. His request was answered, but in a way he never imagined. Everything her gaze fell on, was covered in a grace and loveliness. Creatures softened, and love filled them. A graceful substance called water filled parts of Ildathore. Love for their weaver, and his mate. Locking eyes with man, she spoke again. “Here I am to share in the beauty, weaving alongside you. Forever we shall be in unison; one heart, and one will.” And thus was the creation of Ildathore. Written by Buddy J. Edited by The Flabbits Copyright © 2018 by The Flabbit Room |
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