The Starlight And The Storm Of Fire

Chapter the Second

"Why do I only have two in my collection?!"

Lucus' smile reeked of courtly charm, but underneath those lips were grinding teeth as he thought, You spoilt little brat.

"Is not my bloodline the mightiest? My father proved it!"

"I understand, My Prince," Lucus ground out carefully, "but you must understand the secrecy of the legend of your great-ancestor."

"The Prince threw himself into a throne, legs crossed, folds haughty over his chest, cheeks tinged like an overcooked red beet. "Well then, tell me!"

"These tings take time—"

"I HAVE ALL DAY, LUCUS. SIT YOUR ASS DOWN NOW!!"

The young girl dismissed the terrified man and knelt down to mop up the stain and collect the broken crystal. Her spoilt Prince was just waiting for his new toy to fall right into his hands, when it had not even been conquered.

******************

Under the sweet sickle moon, the stars were beautiful and loved to be admired, but they were not friendly. They disliked the huntsmen who littered the forest beneath them, and that night they wanted to see some fun.

Giants had come crashing through the Scorched Forrest, cutting down bracken and fir trees like a scythe, stomping on flowers with their great boots, head held high like an arrogant horse. If they found a bird's nest, they would crack the eggs open in their cooking pans and roast the mother, tossing her bones onto the blossoming grass. The sprouting trees trying to stretch their arms up to the sunlight to grow were trampled as the men threw down reeking bodies curled up in horse blankets and eased their aching feet from their stinking boots.

Oh, but the hunters were far from alone in the woods. The deer had scattered and the rabbits had dug themselves deep into their burrows under the cold earth. The berries were shrivelled and the squirrels had tucked themselves in their nests, snug as a bug, their nuts safely in the hollows of the trees. Twelve ducks had been shot with bolts and piles of tiny porcelain bones lay in a heap next to the bubbling river where the men were curled up in their rugs. But the wings grew in the pitch and rustled their blankets, but the men wore sweet smiles on their faces for they were warmed from the flasks of rum that night.

"What sweet dreams, they must be having!" giggled the stars. "Shall we wake them up for winter? Shall we make them bow to the winds of winter?"

And as the wind grew stronger, a thick gray mist formed in the sky, blotting out the moon and Spring wrapped in her deer furs and flowers. A strong torrent blew and from the west came two powerful elements, beckoned by the stars to come at once and make their mischief. The stars could do whatever they pleased, and they saw that Spring was asleep.

"Welcome, Frost. I bid thee welcome, Jack Frost! Come, come!"

"Come Snow! Come!"

And Jack Frost and Snow were pleased to be given the power of these mere mortals. "Spring has left," cried Frost, "So we will rain hail here." Snow covered the grass with her great white cloak, and Frost painted the trees brittle with silver.

"Aim to please!" cried the stars, hiding their evil smiles behind their glittering rays as they looked down, "Call the wild! Call the wild!"

The woods erupted with moans of despair as the rain filled leather boots. The looming trees above them allowed the snow to seep into their boles, freezing the backsides of the intruding humans. Snow dripped onto their noses, disrupting their cherubic sleep.

Then Snow and Jack Frost invited the great North Wind to stay with them, and he came wrapped in gray furs, and he unleashed his roaring wing and blew the trees until the men were frozen to the bone.