Mystic Firestorm 2 by James Day

Author:James Day
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-04-28T04:00:00+00:00

Midday approached as two spectral forms emerged into a wide plain of ice and snow. Before them Quakerun rose into the sky with its snow-crested peaks sparkling in the sunlight. A harsh wind blew along the Flatlands causing snowdrifts to pile up along the jagged bases of stone. The two forms looked west to see the rising structure of Iclandia. The entire mountain was covered with thick sheets of bluish ice that sparked a multitude of rainbow colors. Even though the sun was shining brightly, it could not take away the cold which Prince Alec and Lady Saunder felt. The Prince turned directly north and examined Quakerun. He did not say a word as they both stride forward, leaving their tracks in the light powdery snow. There were no signs of the battalions, which usually roamed the Flatlands, and the northern base of the Sloping Spikes. Prince Alec knew that by crossing the Flatlands he would be undertaking a dangerous mission. Lady Saunder kept up her composure even though the nipping wind blew harshly at her frail frame. Her gray wool cloak was wrapped tightly around her frame and a mask protected her face from the frostbite. Her blue eyes sparkled dully at the massive mountains that seemed an eternity away. Prince Alec turned and outstretched his muscular hand, his brown eyes gave a look of sympathy. Lady Saunder appeared to be exhausted and would not be able to make it without rest. Prince Alec knew that his only chance would be to make it to Gnomeholden by tomorrow afternoon. Prince Alec's unmistakable clef to his stout chin complimented him and his agility was like no other man's. Lady Saunder possessed a determined will to succeed in her mission to Gnomeholden. She had some apprehension about their mission, but she knew that the Nomads were tracking directly behind them. They had been ambushed in the Sloping Spikes and forced to go through the eastern pass. Prince Alec vaguely recalled the memory, but it was evident that the entire mission had already been known to the Rebels.

The wind hammered at them as they walked side by side, examining the vertical ice crests of Quakerun.

“It is cold,” Lady Saunder spoke as she glimpsed at the towering peaks behind her.

“Our only hope is Gnomeholden,” Prince Alec said reassuringly.

“Are you sure that the Darkmages set us up?”

“I am,” he said defensively.

“It seems impossible that they would plot against the throne,” she argued for a moment.

“I must rethink my strategy,” he said distressingly. “We must find a hiding place for the night. I am almost positive that they have dispatched riders to seek us out.”

“They would not be able to take over the throne,” she said flatly. “You have given me no reason to believe you except the fact that we were ambushed.” Lady Saunder took a breath. “Why would they conceive such a plot to destroy Iclandia? What can they gain from it?”

“Power to rule,” he stiffened against the dropping temperature.

Lady Saunder stepped wordlessly in front of him, her eyes reflected the sadness that she felt about the entire situation.

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