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[Pyra Ilver]

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[Pyra Ilver]

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[Pyra Ilver]

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[bertholdt]

Jesse McCree
"Looking in the mirror, I barely recognised the person staring back."

"Looking in the mirror, I barely recognised the person staring back."
I woke up one morning, stretched out my arms and sat up in my bed.
I looked outside and saw the war still going on. And both of my parents were still gone.
Going outside was tough, You had to run and take cover every time you heard the bombs falling. If you didn't take cover soon enough it would be too late.
I was a coward. I only went outside incase of an emergency. It made me sad. I would see the families screaming for help and as much as I wanted to help I couldn't because I was so afraid.
I remember my parents telling me that the war wasn't going to happen, people were just spreading rumors. And now i've realized why they said that to me.
The war has only been here for two weeks and thousands of people from my home are gone.
They didn't want me to know the war was coming, and sometimes, even if it sounds insane, I wonder if they knew they were going to die. But then I think, they wouldn't do this to me, They would warn me. I wonder if they thought I was going to die. Maybe thats why they wouldn't tell me. Even they saw me for the coward I was. I wish I was brave, I wish I could do more. If I was braver I would have been able to save them.
Thinking this way makes me rage. But the reason it makes me so mad is because its true.
I could have helped them, I could have helped the people who have helped me hundreds of times. But I didn't. Even though I know I should have. At the time I knew I had to go help them, But I didn't. I watched in fear as the people my parents would call the unknown came to them and took them away. My mother would call them that because she said
" Not only do we not know why they harm us, if they were to think of it, they wouldn't know either "
I always thought that was a smart thing to say. I would always think about that. Even if the unknown saw us as bad people, we tried our best to see them as good and hope one day they would come to their senses.
Now that I felt more positive this way, I decided I would go outside to the hill me and my family would always go to, We would sing songs about each star until we fell asleep. And I remember waking up to the fresh apples in the tree's and everyone taking one, but no more, to leave some for everyone else. They only came once a year on that tree, and that was the best tree.
As I walked outside, I was nealy half way there, when I heard the noise... The noise of the bombs falling from the sky. I ran, ran faster than I ever have before, but I was too late, the bomb hit the ground and I was sent flying.

All I could see was a bright light, and I thought I could hear my mother speaking. She said
" Never will they know how we feel, the unknown, But show them that they do not take us down, show them just because we look different, or believe differently, we can take them on just as strong as they took us on "
My mother is the strongest and smartest person I know. I have to listen to her! I got up to keep running, but I heard another family yelling. I turned around and saw a woman with her child in her arms, a woman just like me, who must feel scared like I do, I have to help her
So I ran for her and grabbed her by the hand. We ran together. All the way until we got back to my house, and we didn't stop once to take a breath, because we are strong!
After that moment, I got the woman and her child comfortable and I went and stood in the mirror.
Looking in the mirror, I barely recognised the person staring back.
And that was a good thing.


~Jesse McCree

[Pyra Ilver]

Sorry, but you have to start the story with the sentence.

[meeeeeeeedic]

I'm gonna enter soon!

[Pyra Ilver]

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[saddlebredpride]

Prompt - 1 (the picture)

Name - saddlebredpride

Entry -

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, as if she wasn't completely in over her head. They stood on the shoreline of their island, black pelts draped over their skin, a funeral procession that's pretending to be something else. They stood there and watched from hooded eyes, hands clutching at the tunics of their loved ones, faces pulled into a grim line.
And Aida stared back at them from the deck of her ship, face just as grim. "I will be brave," she told them, though the strong, winter winds swallowed her words long before they reached the shoreline. "And I will come back to you before the sun is swallowed."

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, with pelts too big for her slender frame and eyes still wide with wonder. They are wide with something else entirely, now. Aida stands on the bow of her small ship, leather-gloved hands clutching at the railing. Before her, the sea stretches out into a vast, endless thing. The sun is starting to set and the whole world appears to be on fire, complete with smoke formed by thick, dark crowds.
There's a storm brewing. Aida looks behind her, but the small polar island she calls home has long since vanished from view. It's a week behind her at the least, maybe more. Honestly, Aida is still learning how to read the stars like a map. She's not positive that she's still going the right direction.
She is, however, certain that a storm will blow her far off course.

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl who had never left home before, suddenly carrying the weight of an entire village on her shoulders. Her flesh still stings from the black tattoo instilled onto her before leaving, intricate swirls that dance over her skin, forming a prayer, and a hope, and a chance to thrive once more.
Right now, though, Aida doesn't want to thrive. She just wants to survive and she's not sure how that's ever going to be possible. The storm is building and it's building fast, clouds black as soot blotting out the sun in a mockery of the eclipse that will soon happen; air heavy with rain sitting at the bottom of Aida's lungs, trying to choke her, strangle her, and she hates it, she hates this, but her people need a savior and no one else would rise to the request.
Her only companion is a snow tiger, young and barely able to hunt on his own. Mita spends most of his time cowering underneath of the deck, virtually useless for anything save catching the rats that swarm the miniscule pantry.
Aida is worried - about him, and about herself, and about everyone back home that's counting on her arrival at the Mage's Tower.

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, barely old enough to hold a sword, barely trained enough to man a boat. And now the storm is here in full force, rain coming down in heavy sheets of grey, soaking Aida and Mita. Massive waves rise up and slam into the sides of the boat. It threatens to topple over with each impact and she is so afraid that bravery no longer exists. For in the mind of a child, bravery is being unafraid in the face of danger, and that is far from what Aida is.
The ship is caught in the torrents. It's tossed about like a carved out sailboat. On Aida's island, there are channels to navigate through, there are icebergs to steer around. But the water is almost always calm, and she doesn't know how to handle the massive onslaught of waves that now rise up around her.
Salt water coats the deck. Aida is very quickly drenched to the core. The water is cold. It's night. Even Aida's very bones seem to freeze up, clenching and protesting with every step, with every desperate attempt to man the stark white sails, to steer through the waves and to safety.
Aida is not brave. But she is trying. Oh, Lords of the Seas, she is trying.

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl who learnt to swim in the hot springs tucked away at the center of her island, as if she hasn't only just started getting into the cold shallows between glaciers. Aida is no master of the water. She is young. And, right now, she is desperate. The ship has over turned and long since vanished, crushed and broken under the massive waves.
Aida's lungs are burning. There's blood on her face but the water is so cold that the gash has already quit bleeding. She's shaking so hard that her joints rattle in her skin.
There is a choice.
The ship has broken into pieces. There's a good sized piece of wreckage near Aida. But, in the other direction, Mita is struggling to stay on the surface. The snow tiger has never been in the water before, let alone the raging depths of the sea. This is unthinkable, unimaginable, and he is going under fast.
The planks of old, dark wood are being pushed away from Aida fast, too.
She makes her choice.
She picks Mita.

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, bound and determined to learn how to cook but unable to so much as start a fire, as though she knew how to sail, how to survive on her own. They looked her in the eyes and sent her to death, even as they hoped that she would succeed, or at least come back home to die with them, burn with them, be reduced to nothing but ash on the snow with them.
Aida is stretched out on her back, muscles stiff from the cold. Water splashes up onto her face, runs down her nose and the back of her neck. Mita is still just a cub, but he weighs a solid forty pounds. Sharp claws dig into her shoulders, for the snow tiger is terrified that he will go back under the waves once more. Aida wants to say it will be okay but she also doesn’t want to lie.
In the end, she decides not to waste her breath. Aida says nothing, and the world is silent save the ocean song. In the distance, a bird screams.

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, barely able to remember the texts from her lessons. They spoke of a grand tower in the middle of the sea, built from marble and sandstone, with windows of sea glass and a massive torch at the top that never went out. That much, Aida remembers.
She remembers, too, the tale of the eclipse. As soon as the sun vanishes from the sky during the middle of its cycle, a spell will break. The dragon sealed deep within the glaciers. As Aida drifts among the surf, now relatively calm, she does a lot of thinking, and she does a lot of remembering. The salt has dried on her face. Her skin is burnt from the sun, mouth dry as though she’s been chewing on cotton.
“I’m lost,” she announces, to the nothing that surrounds her. Aida’s voice is hoarse. “Where’s my guiding light?”
Mita licks Aida’s cheek. It will be alright, he seems to be saying. I’m still here.

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, more prone to hiding from her chores than actually doing them. Aida has been forced to give up on floating. The sea is growing angry once more. A heavy fog has descended on the world. It’s as though a film has grown over her eyes.
Without her ship, the waves are almost impossible to handle. Everything hurts. Aida holds tight to Mita, daring, desperate, drowning – and before her a single wave rises up, different from the others. White foam rises up at the bottom of the wave, and it curls over the top. Massive fangs turn the wave into a mouth, and Aida screams.
Mita growls, panicking. His claws rake over Aida’s skin as the snow tiger struggles to get away from the wave-monster. Aida turns about, trying to put as much distance as she can between herself and the strange water born beast.
But as anyone might be able to figure out, there’s no way to outrun water, and no way to outrun waves. In a matter of seconds, the wave crashes down over top of Aida.
The monster swallows her whole.

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, with unscarred skin and light shining in her eyes. Sea spray floats through the air like crystals. Time appears to be frozen. Aida is no longer in the ocean. Instead, she stands, impossibly so, on an island. Waves lap gently at the edge of the rock coast. An impossibly tall tower rises up before her.
“I…did I make it?” Aida steps towards the tower. Mita stays close beside the young girl, his white fur brushing against her calf. They are both completely dry. The sun burn is go. So is the slight burn of Aida’s wind chapped lips.
There’s a door at the front of the tower. Golden designs cover the front of it, forming a map of the world as it was a long time ago, before the dragons ravished the land and broke it into pieces. As Aida draws closer, the door opens.
Inside, a light flickers into existence. A voice as sweet as honey answers, “yes, my child. You have.”

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, confused and missing her parents. Aida walks up the spiral staircase of the tower. It seems endless. On, and on, and on, and on – on, and on, and on, and on – up, and up, and up, and up – the steps never stop.
Aida and Mita climb for what seems like hours, and seems like days, and seems like no time at all. When the stairs finally level out, the duo find themselves in a room where the walls are covered in strange sigils and a massive golden crystal rises out of the floor. Standing in front of the crystal is a woman, old as the earth, hair silver and eyes blind. Her voice is like honey when she asks, “child, why have you come to my tower?”
Aida sinks down to her knees. Relief floods her body. She could sob. “I’ve come seeking aid for my people, Great Mage. They seek protection from the serpent’s wrath.”
“And they sent a child out on this journey?” The mage leans heavily on her staff. It is covered with seven wooden dragons, each one a different color.
“I am a brave child,” says Aida, though she still feels anything but.
The old woman nods. “Ah, but all children consider themselves brave. Tell me, cat. Is she a brave child?”
Mita, who has never spoken a word before now, and will likely never speak in the human tongue again, nods. “She is brave, mother, but in ways that she will not accept. This child has faced down an ocean storm, and she has faced hunger, she has faced thirst. This child left behind home and hearth. This child saved my life, too, and I shall always be grateful, and always be loyal, and should you send us from your tower now with no spell to keep the dragon sealed, I shall go with her and return to that island. Just as she saved my life on the water, I shall do my best to save her life on the shore.”
“A brave child indeed,” says the old woman. “And a kind one, it seems. Come, child. Walk with me.”

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, with a love for snowball fights and collecting frost lilies. The Mage’s Tower has neither snow nor flowers, but it has sigils, and it has crystals, and it has an old woman that can even charm the tongue of an animal. Aida stands before a window of sea glass, and the Great Mage stands at her side.
Outside, Aida’s island is within view, though that should not be the case. The old woman says, “the eclipse draws near, and my powers grow weak with age. I can seal away the dragon once more, come the eve of the eclipse. But if I do that, I cannot set you free.”
Aida asks, “free from what?”
“The beast that ate my tower, a very long time ago. You saw his maw before coming here.”
“The waves with fangs?”
“They are but part of larger creature, one powerful enough to keep my tower sealed within. You will have to make a choice,” says the old woman. “Make a wise one.”

Be brave.
That's what they said.
Be brave, as though she wasn't just a young girl, lost in a world that she doesn’t really understand. It is mid-day. Aida watches through the sea glass window as the moon passes over the sun and the world turns black. Her island is in a panic. Her people rush about like ants whose hill has just been disturbed. The glacier that forms the main portion of the island cracks; snows falls into the crevice. A great roar floods the air.
Aida puts her hand on Mita’s head. The snow tiger watches, too.
Standing beside her crystal, the Great Mage begins to chant. Her words come into the world in the form of silver mist. It rushes down the stairs and out of the tower, swarms over the island that Aida once called home.
Slowly, the crack closes again. The island is safe. Though Aida is young, she is also happy.

[Pyra Ilver]

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[Stormwarden]

res! contemplating joining w/ prompt #2, but we'll see :~) good luck to the others!