A Creeping Warmth

680 26 3
                                    

I walked around for a while, hoping that’d I’d catch Ginger and Able looking for me. Instead, what I got was a sharp pain in the head and tiny dots dancing around my eyes. A familiar shadow crossed over my vision, not long enough for me to tell who it was, but long enough for me to know that the silhouette is familiar. My last thoughts went back to the lacy, sunny room with Oberon, then to that day where I had run off the pier when I was a small child, only this time it happened differently.

Instead of me getting a wild urge to run, I was pushed by a small, small man wearing a red pointed hat. A gnome with a white beard and pointy, ragged teeth pushed me off the pier and I was screaming, crying for my mother. But she just watched with pity, like she felt bad for me. I hit the cold, freezing water, bumping my head on some jagged rocks, trying to get some air in my lungs, struggling uselessly.

Then that bright light shone, but even before that, the water had started to become warm and welcoming, like the shallow part of the ocean in a tropical area. Golden hair looked as if it were liquid, and glowing grey eyes traced me. The person rode a horse as dark as a night without the Moon, and kicked through the water as if it was prancing effortlessly through the sky.

A sun-kissed arm reached out for me, and grabbed desperately at my tiny hands. The last thing I remember was feeling as if I were on a cloud on a peaceful afternoon, breathing in the warm air of a warm summer evening. And my child eyes could barely stay open; I was out.

Why? Why would you let her get even remotely near the summer King,” a voice familiar to me hissed with an insulting malice to it. “He let her go. She must know something. He wouldn’t let her just leave. He must be planning something.” The voice sounded far, but not nearly far enough for me not to hear.

“Calm down, mother. It’s not like she’ll believe him. She hates his guts; I know this for a fact. She probably kicked him down another notch and ran.” The voices were coming from another room, I’m sure of it now.

“Don’t tell me to calm down Brandon. I will have your father let you know true wrath if you do not hurry up with the ceremony.”

Brandon?

“Mother, I know where you’re coming from but Persephone is already on edge. Demeter will not allow a sacrifice to be made. We’ve pushed our luck far enough.”

“She’s the thirteenth. Just one more and no one will even know about it. Zeus hasn’t caught wind of this yet, and we’ve been cautious enough that Aeolus hasn’t been notified. You know that I wouldn’t let this fall through. Now make preparations; she is to be given to Hades by tonight.”

Mother-

“I don’t want to hear about it. Lamina hangs in the balance. You don’t want Elise’s lost life to be in vain, do you?”

“No.” Brandon sighed. “What should I do with the General?”

“Kill it. She’s a threat to our plans. Layla has managed to keep her knowledge of this dull long enough; we don’t need someone as strong as Ginger ruining our last hope.” Panic rose within me, and I tried to move, get up, run, anything. But no, I wasn’t able to move. I heard a sniggering laughter. “She’s awake. Sedate the little weasel.”

The sounds of a door creaking open reached my ears, and I tried even harder to move. Nothing. I felt cold, boney, spindly fingers clasp onto my arm piercing the warmth that was placed there by Oberon with a lonely cold. Tears streamed down my face as a sharp pain shot through my arm and spread throughout my whole body, stealing away all of the comfort the heat gave me and replaced it with a prickling icy feeling. I faded out of consciousness.

OtherworldWhere stories live. Discover now