Chapter 6: In which things fail to come to a close and someone objects to this
The blizzard had come again.
It was wilder and more vicious than it was when it had led them into the village of risen.
Before it was merely covering everything, slowly threatening to bury the Caralids and their caravamel.
It slashed with talons, let loose avian screeches and rather than being content to slowly smother, seemed devoted to the taste of ripping first warmth and then life from the three frulids.
“This blizzard! The land has turned against us!” Ismi cried.
“Did we escape those risen just to die here?” Kejo said with chattering teeth.
The wind lashed out and Turmeric bellowed piteously. He was certainly a strangely high class humpless twipstrider, but even he was worn down.
Kejo slowly closed his eyes. He felt bitter. He didn’t want to be lost in the snows. Really, what was the point in escaping to be eaten by a blizzard instead.
Yerdl, who at this point had been silent, spoke.
“This isn’t how it ends!”
He yelled into the blizzard and like a man possessed he jumped onto the remaining crate of honey drink.
There was not desperation in his eyes as he tore at the crate, there was resolve!
With effort, he tore a hole in the crate and pulled out a bottle of honey drink. In two swift motions he pulled the stopper and drank it down without pausing for a breath.
A satisfied sigh came out of his mouth and his face took on a healthy glow.
He pulled out another two bottles and rolled them to his wife and son.
“Drink. We will pull through this blizzard, we’ll get home!”
Neither Ismi or Kejo argued.
Yerdl tapped his pot a bit, and then pulled out another drink. This one he took over to the floundering Turmeric, who did not at all resist being fed honey drink.
Turmeric revived splendidly, Yerdl patted the reliable creature with a few fingers.
As Yerdl was getting up onto the caravamel again, just when it seemed they had gained the strength to carry on, a frigid female voice whistled through the wind.
The blizzard grew fiercer at this woman’s voice.
“This isn’t how it ends, this isn’t the story I wanted”
There before the eyes of the frulids, the raging snow clumped together and took on a more feathery form. This hovering form then turned black like oil, even dripping as such.
A winged form.
The wings parted slightly and a long scarlet serpentine neck slipped out, this head ended in a flat surface, upon which was a trio of icy white eyes that glared at the humble caravamelliers. The irises were like gently spinning cubes of ice within the eye-balls.
Its mouth was a jagged but neat line on the lower part of the neck.
A tail unfurled somewhat, but the tip stayed within the cover of mess of dark tail feathers.
Its legs, if it had any were covered by it’s large wings.
“Uh… who are you?” Kejo asked.
Laying back on the blizzard as if it was a mere piece of furniture.
“I am She-sending-fanciful-chillwinds!”
The blizzard roared at her name.
“You should have died in this blizzard. That is the story I want. I was happy enough to let you escape the risen, but I will not tolerate you messing up the story anymore!”
It is true that the land of Elcon can be seemingly malicious sometimes, but truthfully, it is the denizens that live within it that can do most ill.
Kejo of course completely missed all implications of She-sending-fanciful-chillwinds’ words.
“Cor, that’s a right mouthful. No kidding you are fanciful, how abouts we just call you Fancy. Maybe Fancy Chill?”
The wind taken out of her dramatic sails, Fancy Chill actually fell off her pet blizzard.