A Whirl of Wind, Fire, and Ice | Teen Ink

A Whirl of Wind, Fire, and Ice

November 2, 2018
By Anonymous

                                                          A Whirl of Wind, Fire, and Night

 

              It was freezing. That was all Ashton could say as he looked down at his companions. They shouldn’t have done this, but he knew why they had. They had fought and scratched to get into this mess, and they would fight harder to get out. He scanned the horizon, the sun breaking over the mountains, the stars winking out one by one. They had fought to find each other, and nothing could separate them now, even if they decided to destroy the world out of spite for all it had done.

                                                                        (12 years earlier)

              It was a girl, Ashton could see that much from the sparring ring. He dismissed her moving to turn around, but something caught his interest. Brenon noticed the movement, Ashton could see it out the corner of his eye. He never had liked the bully, and he would never forget what he had done to him, never forget all the punches and kicks. If he could make it through training to the Days of Lost, he would show him what he could do, but for now, he had to wait, no one touched the warlord’s son.

Ashton walked up to the girl, and she turned her eyes to him, tilting her head. There was indeed a fire in her eyes, a look that said even though she could burn them all, she wouldn’t.  He knew that look, he owned that look.

              “What’s your name?” He asked, not expecting a real answer.

              “Amber.” She said, “Amber Rose Forestern, you?”

              He almost smirked but, she had answered him. It was enough of a confirmation that he answered.

              “Ashton Rowan Blackwolf, but you can call me Ash.” and smiled.

               

                                                                        (2 years later)

              There was a clash of swords in the arena. It was the break of day as Dekald, warlord of the Fae armies looked down, and frowned. It was those two again. The day the girl arrived they all dismissed her. She was strong perhaps, but she wouldn’t last the fortnight, or so they thought. Brenon had been close at the beginning, but now? Now they outshone him in every way. They wouldn’t touch him, because he was his son, but there was always a slight fear that they would.

              Dekald rubbed his head, today a new orphan came into the camp. He was thin with onyx hair, brown skin, and violet eyes. He had that look in his eyes, the look the other two had. This kid had grown up surviving and had no intention of giving up.

              “What’s your name?” Dekald barked.

              “Tamir, Tamir Azure Kosova.” but Dekald barely heard it, turning around to the two figures in the sparring ring.

              “Ashton, Amber, here, now!” he shouted. There was a fear in his heart that he tried to hide, but maybe they would dispose of this new kid, there was a slight chance, a hope,

              Dekald backed away, wanting to see how this played out, and almost kicked himself for it.

                                                                       

              Amber and Ash knew the second the boy entered the camp that he was one of them. He was gaunt sure, but there was a power lurking under his skin. She was furious at Dekald for pulling that trick.

              She had already been angry when she woke up this morning, last night Brenon set their tent on fire, and it was getting old. She and Ash had woken up early, and had planned on working themselves to exhaustion, but then the new arrival came. His name was Tamir Azure Kosova. They never really knew how, but they could tell when a new power entered the camp, and this boy, well you could say he looked the part.

              Everyone all said they looked the part. You could say it’s true, but if anyone did it was this boy. His eyes flashed at her and he opened his mouth. Closed it.

              “All right spill.” she finally said. She couldn’t take the silence any more.

              “Why me?” Was all he said. He had an accent, he had been raised outside of Voltava’s borders.

              Ash beat her to the answer. “Because you had a look that said you had endured hardship.” he said, “Very few people have that look, even in this place.”

              “What?” he said.

              This time she answered. “The look that says you have something under your skin. The look that says one day, you may very well disappear from this place. We know that look, we see it in ourselves.”

 

 

 

 

(3 years later)

Tamir smelled smoke, again. It was the third time this week Brenon had tried to burn their tent. He could wipe him out with a single thought he knew, they all could, but they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t risk their one shot.

He was grateful for Amber and Ashton. They were a trio, the closest thing to a family any of them had had since they were orphaned.

No one knew how their powers grew so quickly, Amber and Ash included. They just had to make it through these next few years and after that, they would either pass and become the masters of their fate or die. It was that reality that kept them from fighting back, even though Dekald gave them the hardest fights, knowing that they wouldn’t fully strike back, not because they couldn’t, but because of the consequences.

He was about to open his book when he heard Brenon provoke Amber. She had a temper, and she fought back. She could get away with it because she was a girl, the only one who survived. It merited leniency, but Brenon? He could get away with more. So, when he punched Ash across the face, it was no surprise that a fight broke out. Timir saw Amber get in a few good shots before she faded out. Even her limits didn’t stop her from leaving an impressive hand print shaped burn across her face.

                                                         

              Dekald was furious. His son had provoked the girl. If Brenon did any more to them, he would disgrace to the family. It was because of that that it wasn’t hard to order his son to the main hall for a little talk. He didn’t care if the boy killed them all during the Days of Lost, he’d applaud him if he did. For now, he’d have to wait. He heard the doors open and saw his son walk in.

              “Father?” The boy asked.

              “Brenon,” He replied. “What was it that I heard happening outside?”

              “Nothing Father, I was just having a little fun. After all, they won’t ever get anywhere.” He answered with a sneer.

              As much as Dekald wanted to agree he knew that those three were strong. He also knew that in this camp, his son would not get the training needed to win, which is why he said this.

              “Due to your actions, I have been forced to remove you from this camp and transferred to one in the East. Please, understand I do this with great sorrow. You leave tonight.” and he turned his back on his son.

                                                                     (7 years later)

              Amber hated waking up early. Every night, every morning, drill after drill, but she knew why. The Days of the Lost were just five short days ahead. Everything she had been practicing for the past several years was leading up to this event.

              She sat up with a groan, her head hurt from the constant sound of weapons clashing. She could feel the skills she had honed for the past twelve years stirring, like a second mind, a second skin. Even if they were separated, there was an advantage. Ever since Brenon left they had had an advantage. People knew they were strong, they had let them see it every day as if to say we are here. It was what made her get up every morning and work harder, the reason she got up now.

                                                                       

              Ashton Rowan Blackwolf had been up since four in the morning practicing and was exhausted. As he walked through the camp he couldn’t help but remember the first time he saw this place. Fae everywhere, training, learning, thriving. He hadn’t realized that because he had nothing he wouldn’t be given the same luxury. No, he would be scorned, left to die, and even if he did manage to survive he’d be at the bottom always...unless he won, unless they won, and it kept him going, day after day.  

                                                                       

              Unlike his family, Timir wasn’t working on fighting or magic. Instead, he was pouring over maps of the region. They had a strategy, now they just had to execute it. Find each other, survive, get to the middle of the lake. The last part was easy, it was the beginning that was hard.

              “Think Timir, think!” He was supposed to be good at this but couldn’t plan for every event. The mountains had their own minds, and they were at the mercy of their traps. There was nothing he could do to plan it, nothing he could do to help his siblings.

                                                                       

              Brenon hadn’t forgotten. He could see them clear as day in his mind, and he could see their faces as they fell. They had to fall, it was the only way he could live, and he would live.

                                                                           The Days of the Lost

              Amber woke up on time for once, they all did. Every moment of their lives had led up to this point. She should just burn those mountains. If only that would work, but first they had to find each other. Together they were invincible.

 

Timir had given up on planning, it was useless. Tonight, they would be separated, for the first time in ten years. They were each other’s strength and support, and each other’s downfalls. Fae were brutal, but he knew, the second one of them fell that the other two wouldn’t leave. They would rather carry each other than lose each other. Hadn’t they at least earned a shot at life? Couldn’t they just be free?

                                                         

Dekald woke up to a glorious sunrise. He had enough time before the competition to make the final plans to step down, and give the victor, hopefully his son, the title. It would be this year’s prize. Brenon Skullcrusher, General of the Fae armies sounded quite nice.

                                                         

Brenon knew this place, knew it’s walls, knew it's students, knew it’s leader. He stopped at it’s gates, Tengal and Calorian stopping beside him.

“What are you thinking?” inquired Calorian.

“We will win. No one will stop us.” And with a step, Brenon entered his old home, ready to win, ready to pay those three lost for everything they had done.

                                                               

The horn blew and they all disappeared into the mountains. Timir had an idea of where he was. About a mile away he could see the twin peaks that he had marked as a meeting spot. He broke into a run, binding the shadows to him, cloaking his movements. In half a minute, he was at the base of the peaks. His bow weighed heavily across his back as he climbed a nearby pine tree to wait for his companions. He settled himself against the tree and took a deep breath.

Just like that Timir Azure Kosova became the first person in the competition to feel safe.

                                                         

Ashton looked around him, crouching low before he crawled forward. He needed to head North. He could see those peaks in the distance, the ones Timir had said would be their meeting place, maybe sixty miles away.

He began his run towards those looming peaks. He had to get there before nightfall, otherwise, he would have to stumble through the rocky terrain, and that could very easily result in injury, death even. His breathing even, he kept a steady pace and leapt from the rocks around him.

He had just rounded a sharp corner, his breathing beginning to lag when he ran right into a camp. The male got up and snarled, flanked by two females holding daggers. Ashton crouched into a fighting stance and they charged.

                                                         

Amber was not in the mood. Not as she landed right in the middle of a wolf pack. They all snarled at her, and it was honestly a shame she thought as a brief flick of her hand had them blowing in the wind, ashes raining down.

To the South, she identified the twin peaks. They were probably a half hour away, but much could change from now till then. Just then, she heard a snap, and a cruel voice she still remembered, remembered from her nightmares.

“They can’t be far, one of them has to be close” she heard Brenon say.

“Brenon,” Pleaded and unfamiliar voice. “Shouldn’t we concentrate on finding the lake first, then deal with revenge?”

“No.” he growled. “They will all bleed before we win. I want them to know exactly what will happen when I become General!”

She turned around and ran as if her own flames were pushing her forward, as if her magic could sense now was not the time, and that she needed to get away from here before Brenon and his cronies found her scent.

                                                         

They were close, he could almost smell them, if the path of char was any indication she had been here. Brenon was so close to finding them, so close.

                                                         

Timir had been sitting in the tall pine for the past two hours, waiting. There were no movements around him as if even the wildlife knew that this was a matter of life or death. Five fae were dead, that was the last count he had heard, half an hour ago. Every time their shifts were portrayed against the clear sky he let out a sigh of relief. He only cared about two, the fox and falcon, heading hopefully towards this valley.

                                                         

Two more miles. Ashton was close, his breathing becoming more labored. Blood coated his hands as he grasped the ice to pull himself up. He had killed those three fae. There were five dead so far, three from him and two others. He had already seen the other two, a brown-haired girl, and a redhead boy. The boy was bleeding, an arrow protruding from his chest. A clean shot.

He rounded a corner arriving at their planned meeting point. Was he the first one here? He had a hard time believing it, wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen the traces. He peered through the trees and grinned.  Up in the highest boughs of a pine tree crouching down was Timir.

                                                         

              Night was falling quickly. Amber knew she had to reach those peaks before nightfall.

She rounded a corner, shielding her eyes, squinting to peer through the trees, her supernatural vision straining to see any sign of them.  

She found them five minutes later, sitting in a tree, grinning down at her.

 

They were all here. Timir had never been so relieved in his life. They ran alongside each other in silence, looking for a place to make camp. The time to talk would come later, but for now, they had to get out of the cold. He gritted his teeth against it, thinking about a warm, roaring fire.

They rounded a corner and he heaved a sigh. A little off to the right was a cave mouth, dark enough to hint a deep cave. “At least one thing would go well.” he thought as they entered the cave and prepared for a cold night.

 

“Freezing wasn’t even a good enough word for how cold it was.” Amber thought as she shivered. They ate cold leftovers from dinner last night. Once again, frozen was a better word. She gnawed at the piece of frozen meat for a good half hour while they traveled.

She was about to start a conversation when they heard a rustle in the trees. She whirled around, sword drawn, watching, waiting. Around her, Ashton and Timir had scaled nearby trees. Daggers glinted in Ash’s hands, and the string of Timir’s bow was drawn. The source of the noise neared the clearing, and she was about to opt for the twin blades on her back when three males swaggered into the clearing.

She barely had time to raise her sword before the first one charged her. She searched his face for any sign of mercy, but there was only cold rage. She didn’t even know him, had never seen him. Fae were cruel creatures, she decided as he swung his sword towards her.

It didn’t take long, one swipe of her blade had him losing his balance, and a dagger aimed at his neck had her spilling his throat on the snowy ground. She turned around and surveyed his companions.

“You have a choice.” She said with a quiet voice. “You can either turn around and I won’t follow, or you can try to fight.” She didn’t dare look at the two males in the trees.

They chose the latter option. The shorter one ducked, knife flashing as it left his hand, straight for her heart. It would have hit a lesser Fae, but she dodged, her own knife repeating the action, and hitting its target. The last of their party hesitated, and she prayed that he would turn around. There was a huge difference between dummies and real Fae, and she honestly didn’t want to hurt him, but he charged. She dodged his first blow, ducked under and delivered a slash to his exposed stomach. He fell without a sound.

 

He hadn’t found another trace of them. Brenon hadn’t exactly enjoyed his night, it was cold, and he almost wished for flame, but that was a stupid wish. Yesterday when he found that charred clearing he thought he was so close, but after searching for two hours in vain, his team had given up, convinced him to give up his revenge and concentrate on the competition. First, find the lake, then get to the middle, then deal with them. He was open to changing the order of those events though, should the occasion arise. He was very open to the idea.

 

“They were making great time.” Ashton thought as they ran through the trees. They were about fifteen miles from the lake. They were so close, but everyone was tense. If that horn sounded before they reached the island their hope of a better life was ruined.

They rounded a sharp rock, and there they were. He was so engrossed in the fact that they made it that he didn’t even notice the presence behind him, didn’t notice until a sharp pain bloomed through his left shoulder as an arrow went straight through him. Didn’t notice until Amber’s scream shattered the air.

 

Timir had never heard Amber scream like that. The second that arrow went through Ashton’s shoulder she let out an unearthly sound, and whoever had shot that arrow was barbecue. Wildfire raced through the trees deadly hot, and he didn’t even have time to blink before the area around them was char.

Ashton was bellowing at her to come, bellowing at her to cross the lake, Timir dragging him behind him, covering them with shadows. They were halfway across the lake when he realized Amber wasn’t crossing. No, she stayed at the mouth of the path Ashton was freezing for them, waiting until they fully crossed to begin her treck, and he had never known such terror as he did now when Brenon stepped out of the clearing.

 

 

              He had found them. Brenon had never felt more triumph as he did when Calorian shot that arrow through Ashton’s shoulder.

              “You should never have come to camp, you would have lived if you hadn’t.” He snarled at her, drawing two wicked twisted blades from their scabbards.

              “You should have learned to use your brain, you might not have been kicked out.” She retorted, pulling out her own blades, longer, thinner than his. It didn’t matter, he would still kill her.

              “You’ll get what’s coming for you.” was all the warning he gave her before he went on the offensive.

              If he thought he was fast, he hadn’t seen her move. In one quick movement, she had drawn blood, and it was only his speed that saved him as he hurled backward. He leaped forward, turning his blades inward as he slashed for the unarmored part of her stomach, but it didn’t even touch her. She lunged forward, nicking his shoulder, and for the first time in his life, he realized he was outmatched. She looked up at him and there was nothing human in her eyes as she snarled. He was getting angrier by the minute as he realized she was smiling. She’d take her time, her companions were halfway across the lake, and would get to the island before she finished. For the first time in his life, guilt flashed through him. She knocked his sword arm away with a punch, and he barely missed the wicked curved blade that came for his throat, it still dented his armor.

              After five minutes, he tried one last desperate move. Releasing his sword, he lunged at her with the dagger left in his hand, a hidden dagger aiming for her heart. She dodged, the knife slashing her right arm, and in one brutal movement knocked him down. He waited for the killing blow, looking one last time at the sky, wishing he could see his father one last time, say thank you, but it never fell.

              “You never showed us mercy,” she said, panting slightly. “now I’m going to let you live because I saw the look on your father’s face when the competition started. He wants you to live, so I will let you live so he never has to know what it’s like to lose someone he loves.”

              He went to protest but was hit in the temple with the hilt of her blade. Darkness came like a blanket, covering his senses as he sunk into blissful silence.

                                                                       

              Amber panted for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts as she surveyed the unconscious male before her. She had spared him.

              “Amber! Hurry!” Timir yelled at her. Indeed, the bridge of ice was beginning to collapse as Ash’s power began to fail.

              She turned around and ran, her flames melting the remaining ice bridge behind her.  Timir and Ash were on the island, they had made it. She touched the cool ground and would have cried for sheer joy, but then the horn sounded, declaring them winners.

             

                                                                       

              As Ashton lay in a warm bed for the first time in his life, he was thankful. Thankful he had his family, thankful that they were all alive, and thankful the Amber had in fact not killed Brenon. As he looked next to him at the sleeping form of Timir, the sleeping form of Amber, he realized that for the first time ever, they had nothing to worry about, they were safe, and more importantly, they were free.

                                                                       

              She had spared him. Brenon tossed in bed, guilt wrenching his gut. He wouldn’t have stopped his blade, but she had let him get away with his life. He owed her a debt he would never be able to pay, and he couldn’t help but feel ashamed. Ashamed that he had never taken the time to know them for who they were, and with that thought, he drifted off into a restless sleep.

                                                                        Five Years Later

              Ashton walked through his army camp, observing the young Fae in the rings, remembering another time, the same place. Across the clearing, Amber was observing her trainees, occasionally pointing out a few flaws, changing the way they fought. Timir was inside his tent, working on the small stacks of paperwork that were slowly piling into mountains. Ashton looked around him and smiled. They had made it, they continued to make it, and they were happy.


The author's comments:


I wrote this piece during an Honors English Class. I have always been fascinated with fae literature and when I finished writing this piece it was something I was incredibly proud of.


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