Curse

Canadian Bacon · Mar 14, 2007, 08:03 PM // 20:03

I posted this up once before, I think, but then I forgot about it. I am going to try to ressurect my story, and maybe even finish it! lol. It's just my imagination's idea of what Gwen's journey was like from the searing onward. These are my ideas, nobody is allowed to steal them!!!

Here's what I posted before, with a bit added. It is just the first bit, more will be added when I write it.

Gwen: A Survivor Story

Hundreds of people have told thousands of tales featuring brave heroes who overcome tremendous adversity and triumph over certain death to become immortalized in lore and myth. As a young girl, I loved these stories. The glorified exploits of Tyria’s finest offspring fascinated me, and as my abilities with a quill and ink became more pronounced, these tales became a source of inspiration. I fell in love with the notion that a regular person could be suddenly confronted with irregular circumstances and then fight tooth and nail to make it out alive. When romance was involved, the tale became all the better.

It was only after experiencing my own tribulation that I realized how inglorious the saga of a survivor really is.

My adventure began nearly 18 years ago on a wonderful day in September. I was ten years old. There was a slight breeze that flicked my hair and swam happily around my toes. Although it took a lot of the begging and pleading that only children can use effectively, Lina the Academy Monk sat me down on her lap and began to tell me all about the time Bonetti, a vagabond and master of the sword, single-handedly thwarted a Grawl plot to seize Ashford. I laid my head on Lina’s shoulder, and stared skyward, where birds chased each, dipping in and out of the beautiful golden trees. I had heard this story many times, and even met Bonetti once, but such heroic works were never boring to me. Images of Bonetti’s deep, courageous eyes as he ducked countless blows from the Grawl infantry slid across my mind’s eye like sections of a stained-glass window.

My daydream was shattered abruptly by a frigid wind that attacked from all directions at once. Lina held me close for her own warmth as much as mine. A loud droning rumble emanated from far off to the north, and vibrated the very skin on our bones. The sky turned to a horrible writhing mess of blood red clouds where lightening flickered deep within. I gazed up into Lina’s eyes that had always, without a spoken word, reassured me in past times of sorrow and fear. Now, although Lina tried very hard to maintain her encouraging façade, it was impossible not to see the fear that lurked within. “Lina, what’s going on?” I asked, knowing that she knew nothing more than I did.

“I don’t know, Gwen,” Lina began, “but I don’t like the looks of it.” She nudged me off of her lap and bent down to meet me at eye level. “I have a terrible feeling that my services will be required in the city very soon. You should run home. Run home, and get your family to safety in the Catacombs.”

“But the Catacombs are dangerous!” I cried, trying not to notice the white-knuckled grip Lina had on her sword as she looked to the north.

“I know, but please Gwen, do as I ask. I worry that not even the sturdy house your father built will protect your family from what may come.” I knew better than to argue against Lina’s instincts. I started down the road that led to my hometown of Ashford. High above my head, blue streaks began breaking through cracks in the murky red abyss. I ran faster, but the bitter cold stole my breath and held me back.

My mother, Sarah, used to warn me nearly every day that River Skales were as hideous on the inside as they looked on the outside, and were to be avoided by all children. She always told me that if I so much as glanced at one in such a way as to imply fear, aggression, glee, jealousy, pity, friendship, tenacity, loathing, mercy, ignorance, melancholy, or in fact not acknowledge the presence of the beast at all it would send a frigid blast of ice hurtling towards my face. And indeed, she had always been right. Countless times in my childhood I had run home crying, barely able to pronounce my distresses through the layer of ice that encased my head. Now, though, I saw a different side of these beasts. For all their adeptness with water magic, Skales were, for the most part, completely inept at dealing with a cold environment. The young Tads hopped frantically, in a futile search for warmth. Their mothers called to them in loving grunts, and tried to herd them into the burrows, caves and sheltered spots along the riverbank. The largest Skales held chaotic free-for-all skirmishes for ownership of these shelters. Watching these events unfold reminded me these creatures were not evil, just protective of their own kind. They had emotions just as I did, and all those times when they had hurled ice at me, I probably deserved it. The river began to ice over. Skale families retreated to the shore, and watched helplessly as others who had fallen down in the water were trapped beneath the crystalline blanket. I shed a tear for those lives lost, but it, too, was frozen in seconds.

The air shocked my lungs when I inhaled, and the strength to continue was increasingly making itself scarce. My heart sank, and hope seemed to run off with along with strength. I came to the top of the hill where, looking out from the top, I could see my mother leaning out of the front door of our house, beckoning me forth. My heart felt warmed at the sight of her. With renewed hope, I gathered myself, and prepared for the home stretch of my race to safety.

The blue streaks above me very suddenly tore a wide gap through the red ceiling that smothered the sun. A huge glowing object descended downward. The blue light shifted to an angelic white glow. A smile crept onto my face. Slowly, it dragged the corners of my mouth higher, and I thought that Dwayna was retuning to Tyrian soil to vanquish whatever darkness now threatened our safety. Faster she fell, a glowing ball. Open your wings! I thought to myself, as Dwayna plummeted faster. As the source of the glow came closer, I realized that whatever it was, it was surely not crafted under Dwayna’s hand.

It was a giant crystal, both magnificent and terrifying. I was paralyzed by fear, and numbed by cold. I watched the crystal make landfall with a tremendous, earth-shaking boom on the large waterfall above the mill. The explosion knocked me to the ground, and sent dirt and the wreckage from the mill flying in all directions. I could see the air around the crystal rippling as heat emanated from deep within it. The heat spread, sublimating the ice, and charring the very roots of the trees. I glanced back to where my mother had stood just a moment ago to behold nothing more than a modest heap of snapped wooden beams and the stone foundation.

I sat for a moment in shock. Though the heat enveloped me and dried my eyes, I could not blink. The blast had knocked all thought from my head, but as reality returned I realized what had just happened. My home, the mill, and in fact much of Ashford has just been destroyed. The ringing in my ears ceased, and the screams of the wounded echoed from the fiery remnants of Ashford. Refusing to give up hope, I hauled myself up and ran down to the village. As I ran, I heard another explosion far behind me, and I thought of Lina in Ascalon City. Had she been hit?

I worked my way down to my home, or what was left of it. I ravenously heaved up fragments of the house in a frantic search for my mother, but she was nowhere to be found. I paused a moment to catch my breath, and, looking up, I saw half a dozen more blue cracks emerging in the clouds.