by Chris Hechtl
Fantasy:
I prefer writing Sci-Fi but I do dabble in other fields from time to time. I free write all the time. Here are some more of my fantasy stories.
Elementals
There was a legend in the realm of twins for they were the few beings to be born with the guarantee of possessing magic. Others only knew if they had magic when they reached puberty, but twins had it from birth. Twins were special and rare; however, each had a power opposite the other. Frequently such power was beyond the birth parent's ability to control so the children were fostered out to make certain their abilities could be controlled.
There came a time when twins were born, they were said to be born of winter and summer. The sturdy lad Snowden was winterbourne, able to make ice and snow from the moment he came out of the womb. It was said he nearly froze his mother and the attending nurse to death. No matter how much they tried to warm him, he was always cold and yet, never bothered by it.
His touch was always freezing; his breath crusted and fogged things. Since none but his sister liked to be touched by the boy, he was a quiet child; pale, cold but very dark and brooding. He had blue hair like his eyes that turned white in winter. As he grew older, he tended to be moody; if his mood turned to anger, it would storm over in a freakish blizzard.
His twin sister, Kayla, was of fire, sunny and full of passion and light. As a little one she loved to sing and dance even before she could walk. She had hair that was gold and red; it changed with her feelings. Whatever she touched grew incredibly fast. Her songs could entice birds and animals to her. If she cried her sorrow would make the heavens above cloud over and erupt with their own tears.
The twins were held in high esteem in the kingdom. They were managed by a loving couple, but not all was as it seemed. The couple used the kids during their childhood to make themselves wealthy. They would torment the girl to bring rain to farmers’ crops or spoil her to make things grow. The boy was kept entertained to keep him as happy as they could. They found he had a gift for art, able to sculpt things with his breath and touch into incredible works of art. A passing art collector saw his work and demanded a personal sculpture for a wedding he was attending. The boy was amused by the demand, and his desire to want to be as helpful as his sister made him come up with a breathtaking centerpiece. After that he was in as much a demand as his sister. They assigned him to an apprenticeship with a local artisan. Each master artist could only tolerate the seemingly solemn cold boy for so long before he was fired.
When he was seven, he found another line of work. In the heat of summer, he would go from home to home, cooling each for a pence as well. His sister had to do the opposite, go from home to home in winter to warm them.
His sister grew plants into sculptures or used her fire ability to create glass. When they worked together combining their abilities, their work garnered high prices, but the sculpture didn't last long. They at first resented such work. It could be mentally and physically exhausting, but their foster mother patiently explained to them over and over that the work filled the family's coffers allowing them to eat well, have a good home that had a good roof, and each of them had splendid clothes to wear.
As the twins grew older, they were driven more and more to do greater and greater spectacles and sculptures. Each of them dreaded the festivals. During the festival of glass in summer, the boy had to make a winter wonderland and then keep it cold for a week. His sister had to make a festival of plants and fire in winter, melting the festival grounds and growing plants in some areas for food and beauty while also creating towering pillars of fire that spat sculptures and seemingly living things of fire—all for the peasant and lord's entertainment. After their first modest showing, word spread quickly to neighboring lands. Travelers came booking rooms during the festivals, bringing fresh income into the community. That spurned the artisans to top themselves. A new tradition was born.
When they reached eleven, their daily visits in the town reached the attention of the king and gentry. Their foster parents agreed to have them do duties to cool or heat the palace as well. The kids enjoyed the look within the upper class but found it fleeting. Both were driven out of a room once it got too hot or too cold making it hard to make attachments with anyone.
The girl was constantly reminded to keep her passions in check to keep the heat down. She was not allowed to make attachments to the boys in the town or those in the palace. All found her quite beautiful, but the foster parents drove any would-be suitors off quickly.
As they became teens, they resented the constant work, exhaustion, and authority. They were dressed in finery and well fed, but both were lonely. They found solace in each other's company in the infrequent times they were allowed to rest. When they were together, their active powers canceled each other out, and they were normal. They learned to treasure that quiet time.
The local healing priestess ordered that they be given one day of rest per week after the girl collapsed from exhaustion during her twelfth festival. The free time allowed the two to rest and learn. The girl found she had a love of growing her own plants. Her brother found he loved books and story scrolls. The stories of adventures in faraway lands intrigued him. He vowed to see such wonders himself when he became of age.
When the twins hit puberty, it was a hard and trying time for all concerned. The hormonal changes meant their powers were in flux, growing but out of control. The foster parents had to suppress their charge's excesses but found themselves exhausted in the endeavor. They also resented the interruption to their income. The community also resented the changes. The neighbors hated the mood swings. Many moved away to avoid the tantrums.
As puberty crested the twins matured. It would still be years before they reached their full adult strength, but the priestess stated they had finished with the worst of the hormonal changes and were to be considered adults.
They were given a ceremony to confirm their adult majority at the age of fifteen. Snowden, the young man, wanted to go; he wanted to leave to explore the greater world. He had fought more and more with their foster parents over the past two years, increasingly bridling under their insistent authority. The evening of the ceremony the trio had a large row. When he came back to the bedroom, he shared with his sister that he was solemn, dazed, and confused. He slept a lot after that last bitter fight. His sister, Kayla, watched over him, worried over his changed behavior. The passive behavior was an abrupt change from his usual icy calm or storming tantrums.
Their parents told her it was normal. The mood swings went both ways, and it would pass in time. She secretly liked that he was quiet and passive but troubled as to why. She knew a great storm must be brewing within him.
As they got older, he walked in a haze for days at a time, unable to focus, but he was biddable. The girl was troubled by this more and more. A month after their adult ceremony, she saw their foster parents ply her brother with wine. She bit her lip, unsure of what it meant. Her brother had insisted that they would get paid their full rate once they had gotten old enough, yet they still had been paid nothing. She hesitated on bringing it up to her parents. Both were nice folks but getting on in years. She knew they needed the money so she didn't push the issue.
A week later Kayla came around the corner to the kitchen and saw their foster mother mixing a powder into his evening wine. When she tried to drink it, her foster father knocked the cup from her hand. “Why did you do that?” she asked, hurt.
“That is for your brother.”
“But …”
Her father exchanged a look with his wife. “Go be a good child and get ready for bed,” Mrs. Qeul said, taking the girl by the shoulders and pushing her to the stairs.
“But …”
“It is fine. We will handle it,” her mother said firmly, pushing the girl. “Now shoo,” she urged.
“But …” She caught the stern look from her mother. “Okay,” she said quietly. She snuck a look over her shoulder as she slowly climbed the creaking stairs to their r
oom.
It would have been nice to have kept separate rooms, but Snowden's room had been co-opted for the nursery once more. A new pair of children were said to arrive soon. It was one of her brother's points of resentment; he saw himself as an adult and didn't want to be bunked with his sister and wasn't shy about expressing that opinion.
~~~~~(|)---(|)~~~~~
Twins were rare as they knew, but to have them be of opposite powers was extraordinary. To have them so powerful was even more so. Snowden wanted to go into the palace library to read the books but had been denied. The elderly librarian had feared his powers would ruin the scrolls and books within. He should have feared Kayla more, Snowden thought repeatedly. He had learned to sneak in when the man was out in the great hall eating and read for an hour before the man returned. He always put everything back where it had been. Such fleeting time to gain knowledge allowed him to learn a few things about himself and the greater world around him.
Their kingdom had only a few elementals; other regions on their world had more. Many of the kingdom's elementals served at the pleasure of the lords and gentry. The best were kept in service of the king; they trained to protect the kingdom from the magical creatures that were on their world.
Fire and ice were the two uncommon traits; the normal one was earth. Earth workers were tied to the land; they could burrow, mine, or create buildings out of soft earth. They could purify the land used to grow food. Earth elementals lived in homes underground.
Fire was the second elemental and one of the most dangerous. Those that were of fire were pyromaniacs. They loved fire and had no fear of it or the consequences of using it. Many worked in the forges and smelters. Some strove to become warriors and soldiers from time to time, but the constant discipline in the barracks drove them out quickly.
Water users were great at manipulating water. They were highly sought after to irrigate land as well as purify wells and drinking sources. They could also dowse for water sources, then work with earth elementals to dig a channel or well to gain access to the water.
Air affinities were rarer still, since, to walk the air meant you were flighty and never in one place for long. Such people were thin and never settled in one place for long. They made for great messengers and engineers. They were constantly looking for new ways to fly, making flying things of cloth, bamboo, and other light things. Even the rare and expensive rice paper was said to be used. The twins treasured seeing an air elemental fly by on white wings during the warm seasons. It had been just like the drawings in the books Snowden treasured. When he had turned thirteen, Snowden had attempted to gain entry to their tower in the palace, but the guard had denied him entry.
When her conscience got the better of her, Kayla weaned Snowden off the wine. It wasn't easy, but a bit of additional water in the wine or her intentional souring of the drink allowed her brother to stop getting drugged, or at least not as much. When she was certain he was of clear head, she confessed to him what was going on.
“A powder?”
“Yes. It … it makes you stupid. Slow.”
“I remember things. Bits and pieces. It's like the past few months have been but a dream,” Snowden said, sitting down heavily. “And this has been going on for how long?”
“Nearly two seasons. Since our coming-of-age ceremony.”
“You let it go on this long?” he demanded.
She winced. “Don't be like that, Brother.”
“You are protecting me.”
“Er, late but at least now.”
“And I'll guard my own back, thank you,” he said gruffly. She looked at him worriedly. He raised a hand. “Be at peace, I shan't give away your secret nor mine. But I will act.”
She bit her lip but didn't say anything further.
Snowden was incensed by the betrayal. He didn't confront his foster parents; he was pretty sure that wouldn't work or could lead to darker things. Instead he stopped drinking the wine, complaining of a stomachache or headache. Sal, his foster father, switched him to beer after the third night. “Tis about time you graduate to a man's drink,” Sal said, slapping the teen on the shoulder heartily.
But Snowden drank sparingly of the beer, ever suspicious of what was in it. He learned to suck on ice to get his moisture whenever he was thirsty and his parents were not around. When they tried to ply him with more beer during meals, he would be forgetful and clumsy and spill the beer. Or he would wait until they weren't looking and dump it into a convenient area, normally one of his sister's potted plants. Twice he swapped drinks with his foster father and was maliciously amused to see him in a stupor the next day.
When his foster mother started to note he wasn't as drugged as he should be, he learned to feign the stupor out of self-protection. Kayla asked about their income and deflected their attention to a different sore subject.
~~~~~(|)---(|)~~~~~
Autumn's turning colors faded as the seasons changed once more with the marching of time. The winterbourne festival was about to begin. The Kingdom's architect and artisans had commissioned Snowden to make a castle out of ice and snow next to the palace while Kayla built a castle out of plants and fire on the other side. It was to be a pair of masterpieces showcasing the kingdom's power and abilities.
He grudgingly set to work; for this year he and his sister were to get the money themselves. He fully intended to keep any side commissions he and his sister did as well as tips.
They still hadn't seen much of their money though they were currently getting a tithe of their earnings thanks to Kayla's quiet insistence several months ago. Of course their father now charged them room and board, which meant they could only save very little. His sister handled the finances since he was considered “bad with money.” That amused him; they thought the drugs made him stupid, too stupid to save. The more fools they would be when he proved them wrong.
The more they worked towards their common goal of freedom, the more Kayla agreed with her brother and wished to leave. They had planned to use the money to leave and explore; they had talked about it often enough. The idea of going out into the wild, to feel the fresh grass under her feet, the sun in her face and hair … but now she was growing … timid, Snowden judged. He realized he was impatient to get going, resentful of the small tithing they were allowed. He resented her spending too, her baubles and seeds she bought. The realization that their leaving could happen was making her cautious he thought to himself.
Kayla was now reluctant, quiet, and reserved he judged. She was ever aware of the dangers outside the stone and earth walls. Her fear of going out into the world after hearing stories from others made him suspicious. She tempered her idea of leaving to just finding a home of their own across town, or even settling down and getting married to someone in the community. Starting a family. She started to see the savings they had hidden away as her possible dowry.
Snowden suspected that they were being set up; people they worked for kept talking about how the world was a cruel and uncaring place outside and how the realm would fall on hard times without them. “That is dragon scat, and they know it! We weren't here before, and the kingdom was just fine! It will do fine when we leave!” Kayla bit her lip and looked away.
When Kayla overheard the master architect tell travelers that the work was his and the twins just supplied the magic, she was incensed enough to let her plants wither and the flames die down. She was called in to heal them but professed to be “excessively wearied.” Instead, Snowden was asked to shelter his sister's work from the winter until the festival was completed. “I'll do my best but my workload is exhausting as it is,” he told the master.
~~~~~(|)---(|)~~~~~
During the last days of the festival, Snowden was tasked to make copies of the castles with a master artist. He had to make an ice sculpture of the castle, then it would be cast in sand. Normally his sister or a fire elemental would then harden the sand enough to keep its form. Then they would melt the ice and replace it with a desired metal.
; The master casting was quite nicely done he judged. From this bronze he knew they would cast another mold, again in metal, to form a negative. Then the glass blower would make glass bulbs and blow them into the mold to form the final product. There were a lot of steps involved, but they would be nice trinkets for the travelers to purchase and bring home to show off. And of course, the dinars they paid for the baubles would go into the economy.
But the work in the forge was getting to him. He'd thought they'd made enough before the festival but apparently not enough to keep up with this year's demand. That was why he was in the forge once more despite having worked on maintenance of the real ice castle earlier in the morning. All he wanted to do was rest, but the master was insistent.
When he ran into trouble making the final casting, he was berated by the master glass artist for being so inept. Stung, he lashed back. “If you think it is so easy, why don't you do it?” he snarled, hands shaking. The artist glowered at him. Long fingers stroked his beard. He ignored a couple of glass apprentices nearby. “I am tired and need to rest. You insisted I do this. I don't know why,” Snowden growled. “Oh wait, it's because you can't do it yourself. It is too hard for an old man,” he said snidely. He saw the man's eyes flash. Master Gasmal came up to him and took the casting from his hands.
“Do your work and be silent, you incompetent child,” the artist said as he abruptly turned and backhanded him hard. The shock and hard blow knocked Snowden off the stool he had been sitting on. The artist turned as he laid on the floor. “Useless. Utterly useless. Clean yourself up and get ready to leave. I should make you clean up the forge, but your father is outside. You're done for the day.” he said with a sniff of contempt as he walked away. The burly apprentices looked at the fallen lad as he rubbed his jaw but didn't say anything. One stepped over him. Another gave him a cold look and then turned his back on him.