Of Flame and Frost: Prologue
Of Flame and Frost Original Story By Pyry Cole Well... this is my first original work. I figured that it was time to fulfill my wish to start it. This does not mean I won't finish my fan fictions though... you can expect to see those later. For once, the characters ARE copyrighted to myself. As always, I encourage comments and criticism, as well as votes. I do indeed strive to improve. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prologue A young soldier, perhaps nearing the age of twenty years, readied an unusual looking rifle. The firearm was similar to a musket. However, instead of a bayonet, there was blade running from trigger to tip and a few inches beyond. His russet eyes met with nothing. There was no scenery, a thick and chilling mist had descended upon the area. The sounds of a slaughter could be heard deep within the fog. The explosive pops of gunshots echoed while the clang of steel swords resonated through the misty air. Pained screams added to the cacophony, the very sound of these shrill cries chilling the youth more than the feel of the cold mist. He felt as if his long raven hair would turn a stark white from fear. The youth's normally fair skin had become even paler. He tried with all his might to regain his composure. His trembling hand reached into the white lined pocket of his long red coat, pulling out a cigarette. He clumsily placed it between his lips, trying to control his shaking as he lit it. Suddenly, the sound of the fray beyond ceased. For a few moments he started to feel safer, relaxing his arm a bit. He rubbed his left hand across his stubbly face, feeling the cold blackened leather against his skin. There seemed to be something wrong. Certainly by now the other soldiers in his group would have been cheering for victory, or at least giving orders. Soon the air around him began to grow colder and the mist thickened. He could hear heavy footfalls on the cobbled street. A sound like that of stone crashing into stone heralded each step. An unusual shadow appeared in the not-so-far distance. The outline looked like a medieval suit of plated armor, but it was also sharp and angular, like ancient depictions of demons. The creature carried what looked like a very massive blade over its shoulder, perhaps seven feet long and nearly a foot deep. As it came closer, the details became clearer. Whatever it was seemed to be wearing a suit of ice. Some parts of the armor were still in perfect condition and nearly translucent. Most of it however had become opaque, cracks spreading from divots which still held bullets in the frost. Even the blade was crafted of almost perfectly clear ice, though now fresh blood ran along its length, dripping from the tip. The soldier panicked, firing a shot at the creature. He started to load his rifle as it continued to approach. However, his loss of composure led to him clumsily dropping his ammunition box. He winced as it slid out of sight along the street that had now become slick and glazed over with ice. There was little time left to think. The icy demon readied its sword, preparing to swing it down and simply cleave the young soldier in half. He let his instincts take over, dodging the blade by mere inches. The soldier lost a large lock of his blackened hair to the massive weapon. He prepared to fight back, raising his weapon, facing the bladed underside towards his menacing foe. The icy cleaver was raised again by the creature, preparing for yet another strike. The huge sword was rammed down once more towards the soldier. This time he did not run. He raised his rifle, meeting its blade to the frozen sword and thrust back with all his strength. The impact was incredibly powerful. The youth wondered exactly how he was able to stave off such a blow. He knew that he would not be able to do the same again. The blade on his rifle was stuck. It had cut deeply into the rock hard ice because of the force, wedging itself within the sword. The creature removed a hand from the hilt of the massive frost blade and positioned it at its side. Suddenly, the ice started to grow around the frozen armor. The soldier could only stare in awe as he continued to push back against the blade with all his might. The frost in the other hand condensed, and grew into another large blade, about half the size of the first. It swung the blade quickly. The soldier had barely been able to move. He thought the demon missed him, but looked down to see a pool of blood begin eschew forth. He fell into it, sliding down the frozen street and out of sight. The demon grunted and groaned as if in pain. It wasted little time in breaking down the door to the small cottage the people were guarding. It worked its way into the basement of the now abandoned house. It looked around the area. The walls were carved from stone, some crevices in the mortar growing a thick moss. It was unusually large. A long hall stretched forward nearly two hundred meters. Barred cells were on either side and far off at the end could be seen the glimmer of an intense flame. From that end of the room emanated loud and very distressed screams. The sound was like that of a cruel and insidious torture. The icy creature, upon seeing the light and hearing the screams, seemed to respond with his own pain. It slowly started to walk towards the end of the hall. As it continued forward step by step, the ice started to melt. Half way there the ice had started to come off in chunks as it melted ever faster. Eventually the being within the armor was revealed, still mostly covered in ice, his face could be seen. He a squirrel of rather short stature and covered in coal black fur. His eyes were a glimmering cerulean. They looked as if all the innocence had been carved out of them. By now the flame he was approaching, forty meters away had dimmed considerably. He continued to approach, the ice melting faster, and the flame getting dimmer. Eventually he was only a short distance away. By now, almost all of the ice had melted, leaving him with only a pattern frozen into his fur. The remaining ice that could be seen gathered in a small ridge on his shoulders and ran down the sides of his arms to the backs of his hands, where they ended in circles. There were also seven concentric circles frozen into his chest. Stemming from the outermost circle, a trail of ice led down his abdomen, moving down toward the waist. Nothing more of the marks from that point on could be seen as they were covered by a pair of dull brown leather leggings. From the waist the mark had split in twain and ran up the sides of his body, curving towards his back just below the height of his pectorals, and then running down again. It formed a set of three circles, runes in an unknown language, also made of frost, written between them. Finally, it had continued from the bottom of that circle down to the curled tip of his tail. Within the room ahead of him was an arctic fox. The fox had eyes that were both a spiraled combination of ruby and saffron. From the top of his head ran long silken hair. The hair continued well passed his shoulders, but ended above the waist. This, like his eyes, was colored of ruby, accented with stripes of saffron. He was on a small metal bench doubled over in pain. The bench still held a dim glow from the heat to which it was exposed. The fox was stark naked, and it could easily be seen that he bore markings that were identical to the squirrel. There was one difference from those of the other however. The marks borne by the fox were etched of embers that never stop glowing. It could be clearly seen that the markings also ran down the sides of his legs and split into horizontal lines which covered the fronts and inside of his legs. The half frozen coal black squirrel hobbled toward the burning snow white fox, closing the gap between them. He was still in obvious pain, and his body shivered violently with each step he attempted. He knelt down beside the fox boy and put his hand on its shoulder. The vulpine slowly turned his head, his mind now able to focus on something other than burning pain. The cold touch helped to soothe him as he looked into the cerulean blue eyes of the other. He coughed up a small amount of ash, reaching out to the squirrel. He gasped and started to speak, his breaths short and shallow as he started to recover. "I'm so glad..." He coughed violently letting out a bit more ash, "that you... came for me Pyry." The squirrel rubbed a hand at the base of a fox's ears and spoke. He stuttered, freezing, "Of-f-f c-course I did S-s-s-sirius I could n-n-never l-l-leave you al-lo-lone" He pulled Sirius into his arms, his icy body soothing the fox's burning pains. They had lain down on the stone floor, embraced in each-other's arms. The fire in one served to warm the frozen soul of the other, and in turn his suffering was relieved by a cool and loving embrace. Both of them were completely sapped of energy. They both lost consciousness, falling fast asleep in the bare cell.