These are a couple of stories I wrote for Blutytearz and Emeraldis, respectively. If anyone attempts to steal them I will wreak terrible, terrible vengeance. =3
Blutytearz's Story:
The atmosphere in the Graveyard was chill and clammy, with tendrils of mist that wove through the headstones and brushed up against skin and fur in a way that caused shivers up the spine. The wind whistled mournfully through the skeletal trees, creating a ghostly chorus of faint wails that could easily be the ghosts of dead creatu, sobbing. Ranks and ranks of gravestones stretched off into the mist, a name and two dates on every one, moss-grown and neglected. And it was very, very cold.
Spellfyre the black meragon had exactly no idea why she was there. It was something to do with the funny old Veram she’d met in Reiflempor Square. She didn’t like going there, but Bluty had asked her to pop into the bank, and she could hardly argue. And so she had determined to go as fast as possible, in and out before she could possibly be spotted by some terrible gang member. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t take care of herself…but still, best to be careful. Besides, incinerating people made an awful mess.
The old Veram, though, had been entirely unconcerned about the possibility of being mugged or indoctrinated into a gang. He had a pair of tiny spectacles on his nose and books under his arm and he was ambling along blithely in the muggy heat, mumbling to himself.
The only reason she had talked to him was because he had talked first.
“I say, young lady,” he had said, walking bold as brass up to her. “I don’t suppose you’d like an errand, hmm?”
“Uhm, I’m already on one-” she’d begun, and he’d waved his paw impatiently and begun to shuffle away. Suddenly intrigued, she’d run after him.
“What sort of an errand, sir?”
He’d peered at her over his spectacles and raised an eyebrow.
“Interested, are you? Of course.”
“I’ll have to come back later, though-”
“Well, of course, I’ll be here. I’ll tell you then. Goodbye, young lady.”
And without further ado he walked off, leaving Spellfyre feeling partly hurt, partly outraged, and mostly extremely curious.
So she’d gone back later on, and true to his word he was there, seated on a low wall like an old man enjoying the air. He’d smiled placidly as she cautiously approached; as though he’d known for absolute certain she’d turn up again.
“Hello there young lady. Want your errand?”
Stung by his certainty, she’d scowled.
“I might not do it,” she’d warned. He’d shrugged, unconcerned.
“Well, hmm, that doesn’t matter. But could you go to the Graveyard for me? There’ll be a young boy there. Persuade him to come back here, would you? There’s a good girl.”
She wasn’t quite sure, after being so offended by being called ‘good girl’, why she’d then done as he asked.
Now, shivering in the decidedly spooky atmosphere of the graveyard, she wished she hadn’t.
There should be a little boy around here somewhere, if the old Veram was to be believed…but what sort of little boy would hang around here? Maybe he’d got lost…
But as she inched her way around a half-dead tree she spotted a little figure ahead, seated on a gravestone; a skinny little figure, an Ahea by the looks of it, in a blue t-shirt.
She came up behind him and nervously cleared her throat. He spun around in surprise and scowled; his face was pinched and pale, and he began to cough before he spoke. It was a truly unhealthy-sounding cough.
“Who are you?” he demanded, once he’d recovered. “I’m busy.”
“You don’t look busy,” Spellfyre observed. “My name’s Spellfyre. What’s yours?”
“I /am/ busy. And my name’s Valeriy. Why are you here?”
“Uh…there was an old Veram in the marketplace who told me to come here and look for a little boy. And you’re the only little boy here…”
The Ahea paused, then put his fingers round his eyes like spectacles. “Tiny little specs? Stupid patronising attitude?”
“Yes, that’s him,” Spellfyre confirmed, putting her head on one side.
Valeriy scowled and folded his arms. “That’s Zinoviev then. He’s such an old idiot. Tell him I’m not coming.”
He turned away from her and resumed staring out at nothing. Spellfyre went round to the other side of the gravestone so he was facing her again; he looked a little startled at that.
“I don’t think he’ll be very happy about that.”
“He’s never happy about anything. He wants to give me lessons. I /hate/ his lessons.”
“Oh, come now, you’ve gotta have lessons. How else will you learn anything?”
“He’s boring,” Valeriy said flatly, and began to cough again. Spellfyre stood awkwardly, wondering if she should help as he choked and spluttered, but he recovered quickly and wiped his eyes, resuming talking. “I’d rather have lessons with Ioha.”
“He better at it then?” Spellfyre enquired, putting her paws in her pockets and hunching her shoulders against the clinging mist. Valeriy picked at the moss on the gravestone he was seated on, and kicked his heels against it petulantly.
“Yeah. But he only teaches me psychology and Rag says I have to learn other stuff as well and the only other person who can teach me is stupid Zinoviev.”
Musing on this, Spellfyre regarded his sulkily defiant face in some amusement. It was obvious that this was just a kid who didn’t want to go to school; typical little-boy behaviour, in her experience. And there she had been thinking the old Veram had wanted her to do something mysterious and dangerous.
She was rather wondering about the cough, though. It seemed painful and almost life-threatening and brought all her maternal instincts to the fore.
“Come on,” she said, holding out her paw to him. “You can’t stay sitting here forever. It’s spooky out here.”
He hesitated, looking at her mistrustfully, and then shrugged and took her paw. His pale skin was as cold as ice.
“Awright. He’d only come and get me if I stayed out here much longer. The only reason he sent you first was ‘cause he doesn’t like it here, it gives him the creeps.”
This was said with a certain satisfaction. Spellfyre grinned at him as he hopped down off his slightly macabre perch; he returned the grin and bobbed his head.
“Was nice to meet you, I guess,” he said conscientiously, evidently remembering his manners. “Even if you were sent by stupid Zinoviev!”
“No worries, Valeriy. Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“Sure, maybe,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll be about I guess.”
He grinned again, gave her a thumbs-up, and then scurried away into the mists. Spellfyre watched him go, amused and pleased by her meeting, listening to the sound of his cough fade away into the distance.
It was only then she glanced at the gravestone he had been sitting on, and saw the name.
It gave her chills. All manner of chills.
Because the name chipped into the stone was ‘Valeriy’.
Emeraldis' Story:
It was a hot day on Scria, and the five pets tramping along the high road weighed down with backpacks were definitely feeling it.
“How much longer?” Will the Intes whined. “My paws really hurt and the road’s getting steeper!”
“Don’t /whimper/ so much,” his brother DeathFly snapped; he was getting tired of the constant complaining. “Of course the road’s getting steeper; we’re going up a mountain!”
“Look at it this way,” Lorescent the Uilus interrupted, before things could get heated. “Once we get to the top of the mountain, you won’t care if your paws are sore!”
“Why, because we’ll all get eaten?” Will said sourly. Lorescent shrugged.
“I was actually thinking of the view, but whatever.”
Up at the front of the group, striding out and ignoring the bickering that had broken out behind him, was a black Intes who customarily went by the name of StormShadowz. He was the leader of the group, and the one who had proposed this outing in the first place. He looked a fine figure, with his sword and his upright, noble stance that just screamed ‘brave warrior’.
This was somewhat spoiled, though, when the fifth and final figure tapped him on the shoulder and dryly pointed out that his sword had got tangled up in his belt and was jerking in a ridiculous manner with every step.
“Thank you for pointing it out, Groubermyster,” StormShadowz replied rather stiffly, a little offended that his brother had allowed him to walk for probably quite a long time looking like an idiot. The Jaaku smiled enigmatically and shrugged.
And so they all walked on.
Eventually, they came to a stop. There was something in their way.
It was a mountain.
“Okay, we’re here,” StormShadowz announced, dumping his backpack on the ground and dusting off his paws. Will looked up at the mountain and swallowed.
“Does it live here?” he enquired, in a very small voice. StormShadowz shrugged and grinned.
“As far as I can make out. And it is traditional, after all. Okay, it looks like there’s a trail that goes up it; we’ll follow that until we find its lair. Does everyone remember what I told them before we left?”
“I do,” Lorescent said chirpily, putting up her paw. “We mustn’t make any noise unless told to, we must try not to hurt it, we-”
“-must all avoid getting eaten-”
“-must be very careful not to make it too angry.”
StormShadowz shot an evil look at Will, who looked back sulkily.
“Thank you Lorescent, I’m glad someone was paying attention. Onwards and upwards everybody!”
And with that, he grabbed his backpack and surged on up the track. The others trailed after him with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
“Fool’s errand,” DeathFly mumbled, not quite under his breath. “Ridiculous.”
Lorescent was humming as she bounded up the track, trying to catch up with StormShadowz. Will was walking very very slowly, as though he hoped that if he walked slowly enough all the excitement would be passed by the time he got there.
Groubermyster just walked. No-one could ever figure out what he was thinking. They couldn’t even figure out why he’d bothered to come in the first place.
The trail was much steeper than the road had been, and they were all puffing gently by the time it wound itself out on a wide plateau about half-way up. Assembling at the edge, all eyes were immediately drawn by the huge, gaping cave mouth that dominated the whole area.
“It must be in there,” StormShadowz whispered. “Let’s go.”
He began to make his way stealthily towards the cave. Lorescent padded after him without hesitation, and so did Groubermyster; Will and DeathFly hung back a little.
“Do you think it’s…in?” Will enquired in a strangled whisper. DeathFly shrugged.
“I expect so. I don’t hear any distant screams.”
He trotted forwards resignedly; Will, after dithering for a moment, dashed after.
They gathered again just inside the cave, which went back for a long way.
“I’ll go in first, and see about the situation,” StormShadowz declared. “Then I’ll call the rest of you. Wouldn’t want to see you needlessly hurt,” he added magnanimously, and with what he reckoned was admirable bravery and modesty.
The others looked at each other and nodded, although Lorescent did open her mouth to say something before DeathFly trod on her paw.
And so the black Intes set off, further down into the cave.
The rock floor and walls were scored with deep scratches that looked like some vast beast had clawed at them, and there was a thin patina of soot over everything. It got darker and darker as he ventured further, and the atmosphere seemed chill and threatening. And then, down the far end of the corridor, a faint glow became visible, getting marginally brighter as he hurried towards it.
It turned out to be a gathering of dragon eggs, arranged in a natural shallow basin in the rock, each glowing gently with a different shade of light. Entranced StormShadowz ventured closer and reached out to touch the nearest, which pulsed a warm azure, like a tropical sea.
And then a gust of hot charcoal-scented air washed over him, and a rumbling voice that raised echoes in the space said, “What are you doing?”
StormShadowz nearly swallowed his tongue.
Just in time he remembered he was brave, and slowly turned around. Facing him with an ex
pression of mild interest was a huge reptilian head, bright green eyes trained on him. A dragon. The dragon. The thing they had come to find.
The dragon flared its wings, and a thick tail shifted across the rock floor with a soft grating noise.
“Are these yours?” it asked, poking forwards the other four. Lorescent gave him an embarrassed wave. “I found them lurking by my front door.”
“Uh, yes,” StormShadowz replied, and then remembered that this was a dragon he was talking to. “They’re my family! You mustn’t eat them! I’ll fight you if you do!”
There was a faint whimper from Will. The dragon tilted its head, and then opened its mouth to display a fearsome set of pointed teeth…and laughed. It was unmistakably a laugh.
“Eat them? Lord no. They stick in my teeth. Why would I eat them?”
There was a sudden sense of derailment.
“Be…cause…you’re…a…dragon?” StormShadowz stuttered, before clearing his throat. “Because you’re a dragon and you’ve been flying over Scria terrifying people!”
The dragon scratched at the floor with a talon, and gave a snaky shrug. “Oh, well, yeah, I have been doing a bit of that. It’s kind of expected of you when you’re a dragon. You know…collect treasure…fly about and incinerate stuff…roar a bit. It’s the look of the thing.”
“It’s a bit inconvenient,” Groubermyster observed, startling his companions. “For the people you’re terrifying and incinerating.”
Looking slightly embarrassed, the dragon shrugged again.
“I try not to incinerate /people/, per se…”
“It’s still not very nice,” chimed in Lorescent. “I mean, you could burn down their houses and leave them with nowhere to live.”
The dragon sat back on its hind legs, towering over them, and scratched its chin with a noise like someone trying to grate marble.
“What are you suggesting?” it enquired a little suspiciously. “That I ought to stop doing it?”
“Well…it’d be nice if you would,” StormShadowz said, slightly inadequately.
The dragon thumped back onto all fours and scratched vigorously behind its head; Will and DeathFly had to hurriedly scramble out of the way to avoid being squashed.
“Well. Okay. If you put it like that. Only…” It gave StormShadowz a sheepish look, “…I see you’ve got a sword, yeah? Could you…uh…put it about that you beat me in single combat? And that’s why I’m not flying around any more? I mean, that may be not great for my rep but it’s better than ‘I was asked nicely and said okay’…if you know what I mean?”
StormShadowz dared to reach out and pat the great foreleg.
“I reckon I do,” he said gravely, and the dragon gave him a grateful grin that showed rather too many teeth for comfort.
“Oh, oh, so it looks like you got some treasure, you wanna take an egg each, all of you? I got more than my fair share here.”
“You mean it? They’re so shiny!” Lorescent squealed, bounding over to the glowing clutch. “Can I have this silvery one?”
The dragon waved a paw, nearly decapitating DeathFly.
“Sure, sure, whichever.”
One by one they all selected the egg they wanted; Lorescent claimed her silver one, StormShadowz the glowing azure, DeathFly one that pulsed a deep purple, Will hastily grabbed a grass-green one, and Groubermyster took some time before gravely selecting, to everyone’s surprise, a soft rose-pink one.
The dragon also allowed StormShadowz to cut into the soft underside of its front paw in order to have some dragon blood to show off. The only trouble was that it began to eat away at the metal.
And then they all trooped out into the hot sunshine again.
“I never want to go in there again,” Will stated, hugging himself and shivering. Lorescent grinned.
“I think that dragon was really nice. We should come and see her again!”
“Yeah, maybe we can,” StormShadowz said cheerfully, tucking his egg away in his backpack. “Although maybe we shouldn’t stay for tea…”
I put these up mainly as examples of my writing, because I'm willing to write short stories like these for you lot. =3
For however much tu you happen to think them worth.
Only one at a time though please...it takes me a little while and I don't like to be pressured. D=
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