The Surface
The air was crisp and beautiful, a reflection of the trees and lakes throughout the surface. Perfection.
It was a shame it was uninhabitable.
It had an enormous amount of resources and an incredible landscape. I mean, sure, it's a bit cold, but with all the resources here, that wouldn't matter. If only. If only they could live on the surface.
However, that was impossible. Something was wrong with the surface, something odd, something strange. It had happened well before the lifetime of anyone alive, so no-one had any idea what it couldn't have been that caused it, but there must have been something.
No human could live on the surface for a prolonged amount of time with out becoming incredibly sick with an incurable disease. Their skin started becoming hard like rock, cracking and flaking away. As did their organs and blood. Once the process started, it could not be stopped or reversed. The recipient of the disease eventually became dust. Dust and rocks. Or, at least, that's what happened with the people from Fire. The Fire Lord had no idea what happened to those from Ice, but he assumed it must be something similar as they had never settled on the surface either.
He remembered his father and mother conducting experiments, chaining prisoners to the surface for a prolonged time, before sending people down to try and cure them. Nothing had worked.
So, as the Fire Lord walked to the spot in which Eliza had said to meet, he relinquished his thoughts of The Surface and focused on the coming trial – for it was sure to be one.
Slowly, Eliza came into view. She stood there, hands seemingly relaxed at her sides, waiting for him.
The Fire Lord smiled. Eliza wasn't relaxed – he knew here too well to assume she was – she was just putting up a visage of unconcerned relaxation.
His footsteps became unhurried and sure as he came into her view. His hands unclenched and his face dropped into unworried assertion as he once again became Svorn.
"Eliza," he started once he was close enough to be heard. His arms lifted out his sides as he began. "I came alone, as promised."
She smiled when she saw his posture. Her eyebrow raised; she continued his mood. "Did you sneak out of the temple, again?" She paused. "No-one knows you're here, do they?"
He shrugged, a laugh breaking out of his mouth. "Of course. Do you think they would have just let me go? Nope. There would have been guards and crowding and the Council members taking weeks to discuss whether or not it would be in their best interests if I went... yadda yadda yadda." He twisted his hands together, looking very much like the young boy Eliza had grown up with. "Actually, I would sort of prefer if you didn't let them know I was here... It would avoid all the drama etcetera..."
She laughed. "Of course, I won't. I had to deal with the Council too much when I was in Fire and I do not want to have to go through anything like that again. Any secrets you have, I will gladly keep from the Council."
"Thanks."
Svorn stared at her for a second. She was wearing a gorgeous, deep red dress that complemented her figure and yet revealed no unneeded skin. It flowed to the ground in a straight line, wavering and shimmering slightly, yet straight, elegant, simple. The red accompanied her hair, of course; a fiery red reflection of her beautiful personality.
"Well," he started. "I forgot to say this before, but nice dress... You know me so well."
She grinned at his awkward complement. "I made sure to choose a style you liked as well as your favourite colour to wear. I didn't have that many of these types as Thorn prefers royal purple and a 'flaring out' style of dress but..." She drifted off, her face turning solemn.
YOU ARE READING
Frozen Flame
Fantasy[Finished and being edited] Once captured by a distraught king, a fierce warrior is forced to choose between saving his family or his country. But choices are never that simple. ...
