The Crimson Claymore: Chapter 2

68.4K 525 48
                                    

*A/N: If you have read my novel, The Crimson Claymore and enjoy the story, I need your help. I am beginning my career as a published author. I NEED reviews on Amazon & Goodreads. If you like this story, PLEASE REVIEW IT ON AMAZON & GOODREADS!! I need reviews on Amazon & Goodreads. I need readers to be able to trust me, and for that I need reviews. PLEASE THE MAGE AND THE FRECKLED FROG, DIAMONDS UNDER A HICKORY TREE, AND THE CRIMSON CLAYMORE on Amazon & Goodreads!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. I'm trying to start my career as an author, but readers who don't know me won't take a chance on me if I don' t have reviews to back me up. I love you guys, and will continue to release my unedited stuff here before publishing for money. I will always be looking for beta readers and reviewers. If you cannot afford to buy my stuff, I will give you free copies of my new releases in exchange for an honest review on AMAZON & GOODREADS. Let me know. If you can support me by buying, please do. I really want to write full time and I need your help.


Chapter 2


Shivers traveled down Searon's partially frozen body as he stared through the orange ice that gave the world a lightened appearance. The color made the trees look a dark brown, almost black, eerie. He shivered as the cold ice encased his body. The surrounding orange clouds and deep-brown sky infused him with a lifeless feel. His face was finally free of the ice, and what he heard was far from lifeless. The sounds of animals hit him like a loose pebble tumbling from a cliff, and at first he felt overwhelmed. Life seemed to flow more there than he had ever imagined before. Each plant made a different sound and moved in a different way, as if they whispered to each other as they stared at Searon. Birds of all kinds sang in chorus with each other instead of the sonic competition that he'd grown so accustomed to. He could hear the contrast of blue jays, robins, doves, eagles, and so many others that he couldn't name.

Searon looked to the trees surrounding him and realized that he wasn't in the same place. His shoulder no longer pained him, and he wondered if something in the ice had healed it. No longer were there bare autumn trees with scattered colorful leaves; now he was looking at a forest of pine trees. The smell was so overwhelming and minty from the pine needles that he could taste in his mouth. He allowed the pleasant smell and taste to settle through his nostrils and mouth, soothing his mind. He recognized the white-and-red cedar trees, thick and bushy with leaves that were soft to the touch. There were also white fir trees, tall and thinned through the trunk. The needles were small, filling each branch. Red fir scattered the area, as well, and had different traits than the white fir; they were thicker and held longer needles. Most impressive, though, were the sequoias that draped the land surrounding Searon. The sequoias scraped the sky, nearly touching the clouds. Searon felt like a gnat in comparison. The trees looked older than time.

Searon struggled as he broke an arm free of the ice and fought to rip chunks off of his body. When he was free, he took a few steps forward and stumbled on the rough ground covered in pinecones. He noticed that he was alone and that the arrogant wizard was nowhere to be found. His horse was also nowhere to be seen, and besides the animals and chilled breeze, sound remained absent. He rubbed his neck, looking at the various bushes on the ground with small green leaves and red berries. His hand brushed against one plant that he'd always heard tales of but had never been so deep into the forest to see. It was a fern, one of the most beautiful plants that Searon had ever seen. The branches came out with a scattered variety of leaves that tapered off the long branches and grew shorter until reaching the end, each branch looking like a long triangle. A smile reached his face as he studied the forest surrounding him until his stomach rumbled from hunger. Behind him, hooves patted against pine needles, crushing them. He felt the hilt of his claymore and swiftly turned around.

The Crimson ClaymoreWhere stories live. Discover now