The Butcher Gang: The Legend of the Ethereal Stones

CHAPTER 8: Icy Relations

         "Got the Emerald!" Edgar sang over the roar of the wind. "How many left to go?"

          "Three more!" Faith shouted, clinging to his fur. "You're doing very well!"

         In the temple, Brick was equally impressed. "You shine like a beacon, young one. What energy are you possessing?"

         "Oh, I don't know," Edgar replied coolly. "I guess I was just made for this."

          The Arctic Elder, Nedra, bowed to him gracefully. "I suppose you're ready for your next task. You'll be looking for the Aventurine, which is situated in the Quadrupolar South. You will have to climb to reach its vault."

           "Got it," Edgar replied. But instead of receiving a mental image of the area, he found himself there immediately. Unfortunately, he was in the middle of a frozen wasteland. Worse yet, he was caught in the middle of a blizzard as well.

               "I... thought... this... would... be... easier..." he chattered, rubbing his arms to restore sensation.

                Faith snuggled into his fur. "Nedra founded her tribe here originally, but they must have moved their settlement."

             Edgar trudged through the freezing cold. He didn't get far before he collapsed.

             When he awoke, he found himself wrapped in a blanket. Dozens of people with pallid skin and white eyes were staring at him.

          Edgar shrieked and sat bolt upright. The people scattered, and only a few remained - a tall man and a young girl. Both regarded Edgar with interest.

           "Welcome to the Quadrupolar South," said the little girl, with a little curtsy. "We are the Arctic Tribe, and you are the legendary hero. One of our folk found you in the snow and brought you here. You must be here for our Aventurine."

           Edgar nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

          The man nodded. "I believe Winerva can show you the way." He gestured to a new girl, who looked not much older than Edgar. She had pale skin and was wrapped in furs like the others, though she also wore a blue scarf. Her eyes were soulful, and more intense than the others. She said nothing, but she glanced their way to acknowledge the statement.

           As she stood, Edgar hastily scrambled after her with the blanket tied around his shoulders like a shawl. If the Arctic Tribe weren't very social, he blamed it on the isolation.

          Winerva led the way to a weather-beaten path leading up a slope. She gestured for him to climb, and still not a word left her thin lips.

          Edgar made his way to the top of the icy rise, then turned to wait for Winerva. She climbed with haste, ascending faster than any human normally could. She regarded him briefly before continuing. A large metal door was set firmly into the frozen mountain, looking highly conspicuous in the blizzard. Winerva whispered something, and the door swung open, revealing a cave. Magic, Edgar supposed.

         "Heh, heh. A taste of magic,"Edgar jokingly said, trying to lighten the mood.

         Winerva led him through a long corridor carved from solid ice. She still did not speak until they reached another massive door, marking the end of the tunnel. She faced him and said quietly, "This is our vault. We keep all our treasures in here. I've heard rumors that a monster hides behind this door, but nobody has the courage to find out. We call it Waxwick, because the rumors say it looks like a molten candle."

          Edgar cringed. "I really hope there isn't..."

         "Don't worry, this isn't the first monster we've faced, nor is it going to be our last," Faith said.

         The door opened unexpectedly, and a blast of heat radiated out of the vault. Winerva was flung back, smacking against the wall. She didn't get up again.

        The creature emerged, looking like a humanoid made of flowing lava. A black string-like object protruded from its head, reminding Edgar of a candle wick.

     The gooey creature roared, splattering lava everywhere. It charged at Edgar, spitting magma.

      Edgar dodged around Waxwick into the vault. It was filled with treasures to rival the hoard the Watcher guarded, but nothing that looked like an Ethereal Stone.

       Waxwick swiveled, chasing him around the chamber. During his third round, Edgar spotted a raised pedestal that hadn't been there before. Resting on it was a molten cage, and inside it was a glimmering white jewel.

         Edgar clenched his teeth as he approached, then jammed his hand through the hot bars of the cage. Ignoring the searing pain, he grabbed the Aventurine and yanked it free.

          Immediately, Waxwick collapsed and faded. Winerva raised her head. Edgar raised the Aventurine in the air, reveling in the victory.

          He smirked at where Waxwick had once been. "You were a total hothead, but you weren't too hot for me to candle."

          Faith snickered. Winerva said nothing.

         A hole opened in the roof of the vault, leading out into the icy skies. He took off like a missile, hearing the faint but distinct cheers below him.

                                   ~END OF CHAPTER~