Imagining Frost

(10) A Chilling Discovery

He claimed he was Emelian , God of Iron, Rock, War, and Silver. A Morimaikarea, was what he truly was: a Dark demi-God. Emelian was the most cynical of the three men; a former warrior of the underworld, and said to the believers, "I will supply the few of you that will be my warriors and peasants in the land of the Unknown. Only the strongest, that received an abundant source of iron from the river, will follow."

A portion of the followers began to walk forward, following the man into the forest. Those believers either became Morier's; bloodsuckers, Nwalmaer's; tormenters, or Thaurer's; abominable monsters. The ones that had followed Ion had , in simpler terms, become the ferocious Shadow Gypsies of the forest; Tel'Sindavathar, The Shadow Alliance.

The day was not at rest. There was still a portion of the believers and the two mysterious men that still lingered at the edge of the winding woods.

The second man came forward on his horse, his baggy, mud-colored clothing resembling the man who had originally lead them to the river. The horse he rode was a copper shade, and if one looked close enough, it's nostrils flared out bits of pure fire. The man's eyes were pure gold like the sun and his hair looked as if it was on fire it was so glittering with reds and oranges. Around his neck he wore a necklace from leaves of The Tree of Life, the source of all energy for mankind.

"I am Plamen, God of Fire, Sky, Secrecy, and Wind," the man said. "Come with me, and live peacefully through the Mother Rivers lasting currents. It's source is from the roots of the Tree of Life, your creation."

Dirtier than dirt, and fiercer than the wild, those believers became nature itself that followed Plamen through the forest that day. It is said they can mimic the sounds, creatures, and planes of the earth, awaiting incoming prey, although they cannot become it completely.

The last man of the two was by far the most beautiful, yet dangerous, with shockingly white eyes and skin like stone. With a direct look into his eyes he could turn fire to the purest of ice, bend matter, and make himself merge into anything. Ashen hair flowed freely down the center his back and he wore a coat of a Polar Bear draped over his muscular frame. His horse was as white as snow, it's eyelashes laced with frost as it's rider, and it eyed the believers with an equivalent amount of pure frigidness as the man situated at its back.

He was God of Ice, Magic, Voice, Illusion, and Poison.

And the third beautiful man spoke dangerously low like a predator. The believers straightened immediately as the last man eyed each and every one of them with sallow eyes. They had had expected a voice so coldly sharp. But it was only expected by one strangely resembling ice. "I am Wen, God of Ice. The rest of you are to come with me, for you are the ones whose heart and mind are bitter and sinful enough to handle the authority of my dark magic."

The rest of the believers followed Wen into the forest. His believers became the Helkaer's; the Icy one's, better known as Ice Walkers. The Ice Walkers were the first of the Gypsies to create chaos, for they thrived on fear and dominance. Their song was more alluring then a Siren's call, their eyes more passionate than a roses bite. With just one touch they can craft the deadliest of circumstances.

The Gypsies are said to be the protectors of the forest; the watchers. They are seen when they shall be seen, heard when they shall be heard. There is one, and only one reason a Gypsy appears to humans--"

She stopped reading.

I felt like a child again, waiting impatiently for her to begin reading again. But suddenly as she looked she was about to begin again, I sat up straighter. "Why do they appear to humans?" I asked her, deep down not truly wanting the answer. I subconsciously gripped the snowflake at my neck, hoping greatly she wouldn't ask me of the man in the woods. But it was the reason I came to her, afterall.

Grandma slammed the book shut, taking off her glasses in a rush. She then looked up at me and her bright grey eyes slightly watering. My stomach sunk as she slowly shook her head, eyes closed.

She down at the book in her hands then handed it to me, leafing through it's warn out pages and motioning to the section where she stopped. I read out loud:

"There is one, and only one reason a Gypsy appears to humans and it is because of their sinful nature. It is their distrustful, powerful urge to lure humans within the arms of the forest and feed on their delicate heart that separates them entirely from humanity. They will forever do this task for the river of life as the three beautiful men did hatefully onto the human non-believers, thus cursing them to the forest--"

I broke off, touching the necklace at my neck. "-forever," I finished, looking up at my Grandmother. I shut the book with rapidness and stood up. "I need to go. I can't--I can't this is ridiculous. I'm sorry. I'm just seeing stuff. It's not...it can't be!"

I turned towards the front door. I needed air. Oxygen was only a few feet away. Grandma reached up and grabbed my arm. Her hand was comfortably warm, calm against my icy skin but her eyes were wild.

"Please, Heather! Before it's too late--"

I yanked away viciously, backing away from her. She was blocking the front door and so I hurried to the sliding back doors of the back yard. "No, Grandma! I'm sorry, it's a great story but I don't--"

I turned towards the sliding back doors of my Grandmother's cabin and I froze. The glass was frozen solid. The handle wouldn't budge as I went to reach for it. My mind cried out for me to run far from the cabin I was in.

I turned around. My Grandmother had her hand out, palm flat against the air, towards the door, and her eyes became so vividly white that I could barely see her pupils. Her hair had changed until it matched their unnatural shade of snow and was moving, although there was no movement of air her house. Her features had drastically changed until she looked at least twenty years younger, with pallid, flawless skin. My heart pounded violently in my chest as the creature that looked so terrifyingly close to my Grandmother took a step closer. I pressed myself against the freezing surface of the door, hyperventilating.

Gypsy.

"I'm so sorry you had to see this, luv," she said, practically crying. "But I can't let you leave this house because the second you step out that door, is the second he steals you away from me."

"W-w-who s-s-teals me?" My absolute shock, combined with my chattering cold lips sent my every word stuttering.

Frost, she mouthed.

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