Young Writers Society

Chapter 16: Uletic Glissando

“Welcome back, Mr. I don’t have time for anything.” Fiera said as I walked back into the auditorium. “So are you going to spend a decent amount of time with us this time, or are you going to bail in the next five minutes?”

“Not unless my friend calls me.” I said, frowning as I jumped up onto the stage.

“And I don’t care what you say, I’m going to find my Chosen One this chapter. You aren’t going anywhere until I get Pacifica back.” Fiera stated firmly, striding over to the Viewing Screen.

“Might as well.” I said as the sheet flickered to life. Fiera froze, her hand halfway to the screen, then she slowly turned around to face me.

“What did you say?”

“I said you might as well. I don’t have any good ideas for this chapter.” I told her. Her mouth opened slightly in shock, then she closed it and grinned.

“Well then, I’m not going to complain. Or waste any time.” And with that she turned and jumped into the sheet.

“Nick!” Fiera shouted, landing in the middle of Diminsh Village. She stood up amidst a bustling crowd of workers, some will wheelbarrows, others with shovels, but all working to repair the damage in the village. One man with a particularly overladen wheelbarrow was heading directly for Fiera, but the moment he saw her he jerked the wheelbarrow into another path and gave her a wide berth. Within a matter of seconds, everyone walking by Fiera was giving her a ten foot wide circle of clearance. [“They learn to respect me.” Fiera said, glancing up at me. “They’re obviously not stupid.” I said. “Obviously.” Fiera replied sarcastically, and refocused on the world.] She started heading out of the village, and saw Nick sitting astride Portia, both horse and rider being surrounded by a thick trail of bubbles. The streamers fell lightly across Nick’s shoulders, bubbles dissolving as they landed.

“You brought them back?” Fiera looked up at me, surprised. “But how…?”

“I’m wondering the same thing.” Nick spluttered through a mouthful of sudsy streamers.

“Playtime!” Naia shrieked as she shot skyward, sparkly bubbles streaming behind her. [“I want an answer.” Fiera crossed her arms and glared up at me. Grinning, I said, “Just watch.”]

“Naia!” Fiera called out, running over to Portia and Nick.

“Fiera!” Naia squealed happily, spinning around Fiera several times. “Look what I got!” The Nexie twirled downward to hover in front of Fiera, her bubbly wings casting off froth like ocean waves as she settled to stable height. Around her neck hunk an emerald-colored ribbon that matched her hair, and dangling from the thread was a small red jewel. Naia cupped the stone in her teal hands and held it up to Fiera. “See? Heartstone.”

“And this lets you leave the ocean?” Fiera asked. Naia nodded happily.

“Mana source, like the ocean.” Naia chirped, hugging the gem tightly. “Now I can follow Nick!” [“Your welcome.” I said to Fiera. “That was nice of you.” she said, keeping her back to me.]

“So do you want to help me find Pacifica?” Fiera asked, turning her attention back to the Nexie.

“Who’s Pacifica?” Nick asked, and Naia settled down, listening intently.

“My Chosen One.” Fiera stated, walking past Portia as she headed north towards the mountains. “She’s in here somewhere.”

“So we have to find her first?” Nick asked, spurring Portia into a slight trot.

Fiera glanced back at him. “Yes.”

“Oh.” Nick said, and Naia shot around him, encircling his head with a tiara of bubbles.

She floated in front of his face and said, “Why are you sad, Nick?”

“Well, I was going to go on a different adventure, but I can go with Miss Fiera.” he said, grinning. [“Miss Fiera?” Fiera said, isolating herself and Nick temporarily. “Yes, Miss Fiera.” Nick repeated. “Naia calls you that. You don’t like it?” “I don’t like you calling me that. But Naia can.” she said. “But what if I’m talking to…” Nick began, and Fiera interrupted him. “You can call me that when you’re talking to Naia. But don’t ever call me that.” “Yes ma’am.”]

“Okay.” Naia said, smiling broadly. She flitted about Portia’s head, and the mare flicked her ears at the bubbles, seemingly rolling her eyes at the sprite.

[“What about the Sword?” Fiera asked, pausing the story and glancing up at me. “Naia freaked out when Nick mentioned it last time.” “So long as neither of you mention it, Nick,” I stared at him pointedly, and he held his hands up defensively, “she should be fine. And Nick, under no circumstances should you draw the Sword.” “Why not?” he asked. “Because you’re not supposed to. And you will be grounded for several weeks if you do.” I told him. “Fiera, make sure he doesn’t.” “With pleasure.” she replied.]

“So where to?” Nick asked, spurring Portia after Fiera.

“North.” she replied. “That’s the only clear direction I’m getting.”

“No! South!” a shrill voice crowed from above. “South! South!” The phrase was picked up by a chorus of voices high above them. The three looked up, and saw a flock of black birds circling above them.

“Myna birds.” Naia watched them, her head titled to the side.

“Birds that can talk. Cool.” Nick said, admiring the glossy birds.

“Come on, let’s go.” Fiera said, picking up the pace. The birds swooped down in front of them, and formed a flapping walls of wings. “Move, birdbrains.”

“Go south! Go south!” several of the birds shrieked, and another patch of beaks crowed “Not north! Avoid the north!”

“If you don’t move,” Fiera said, striding right up to the flock and raising her hand threateningly, “I will make you. And you don’t want me to do that.”

“Stay! Stay!” the birds shrieked.

“You asked for it.” Fiera grabbed the nearest bird, and his feathers turned pure white, the wingtips and tips of the tail feathers brushed in turquoise. A teal crest sprang up on the top of the bird’s head, and its yellow beak paled to a white ivory. Fiera let go, and the bird flapped off, chirping beautifully, but unable to speak.

“Hush, little mocking jay, don’t you cry,” Fiera sang sweetly at it, then grinned at the remainder of the birds. The collective pack fluttered a few feet farther away, but maintained their aerial blockade. “I don’t have to touch you to change you.” Fiera told them, and snapped her fingers. Instantly another bird changed, this time to a bright red cardinal. [“My state bird. Nice touch.” I said. She grinned up at me. “Thank you. Now will you please make them move?” Well, since you said please.” I grinned.]

The pack quickly scattered, as if someone had popped the invisible balloon clustering the birds together. The path clear of the mynas, Fiera and Nick could see another swarm up ahead, swirling around five gray-clad soldiers. The soldiers were waving their antiquated rifles like sticks at the birds, trying to shoo them away from a wooden chest.

“That wouldn’t happen to be…?” Nick said, glancing down at Fiera.

“It is.” she replied, walking forward purposefully. “But let’s find out why Count Leem’s men want it.”

“What is it, Nick?” Naia asked, fluttering around him in her trail of bubbles as Nick prodded Portia forward after Fiera.

“That’s the chest I found in the Tower.” Nick told her, grinning up at her.

“Who’s Count Leem?” the Nexie asked.

“A friend of ours.” Fiera said, glancing back at her.

“Oh, okay. Can we meet him?”

“If he’s there.” Nick said. Naia hovered in front of Nick, a small trail of bubbles landing across Portia’s striped forehead, and Portia flicked her ears irritatedly. The mare snorted, and shook her head. Naia floated off center, a few feet to Nick’s left, then flitted back to Nick’s shoulder.

“Does the horsey not like my bubbles?” Naia asked Nick, her childish eyes bright with curiosity. Portia snorted again, more forcefully this time, and shook her head.

Nick laughed and said, “Apparently not. Do you, Portia?” He patted her neck lovingly.

“Can you hear that yet?” Fiera asked.

“Hear what? The bird calls?” Nick said.

“No, what they’re saying.” Fiera clarified, staring intently ahead.

“Well, whatever it is the Southerners aren’t happy.” Nick said, grinning.

They walked on a little farther, and the words floated over to them, the birds higher-pitched calls mingling with the harsh, angry retorts of the soldiers.

“North! Go North!” the birds called excitedly, swirling around the chest and keeping the soldiers at bay.

“Never! Death to the Yankees!” one soldier shouted, and the rest replied with a chorus of agreeing cheers as they attacked the birds.

“North! North!” the birds taunted, keeping the soldiers prize just out of reach.

“Kill the Yanks!” another soldier yelled, swinging his rifle. The birds parted before him, causing his momentum to throw him onto the ground, flat on his stomach. Instantly the birds flocked to him, claws grabbing the gray cloth as they flew into the air.

“Spawn of the blue devils!” the rest of the soldiers shouted, trying to regain their captured comrade.

“North! North!” the birds cried, flying away from the angry soldiers. The fowl quickly sped ahead, a few staying near ground level. Those small black birds buffeted the troops, acting as a rearguard for their fleeing brethren.

“Looks like they’re having fun.” Fiera said as she neared the chest.

“Um…shouldn’t we help them?” Nick asked as he rode up to the vacated spot.

“Eh.” Fiera shrugged, focused on the wooden chest. “If we need to. But we can always do that later.”

“Okay.” Nick watched the birds disappear.

“Are they okay, Nick?” Naia asked, flitting in front of Nick, her face full of concern.

“Sure, they’ll be fine.” Nick said, grinning broadly. “Miss Fiera will take care of it.”

“Okay.” Naia said, brightening immediately.

“Well let’s see what he’s been hiding.” Fiera glared up at me, then kneeled down in front of the chest and popped the lock. Pushing the lid up, she leaned in and pulled out a long, silver cylinder.

“A flute?” she asked, turning it over in her hands.

“Yes, and quite a special flute, I might add.” a tired voice said. Everyone looked up, and saw Count Leem standing beside the chest.

“How’d you get here so fast?” Nick asked, and Fiera glared up at me again. [“I don’t like you deafening my hearing.” she said irritatedly. “I did not deafen your hearing at all. I just let him come up soundlessly. There’s a difference.” I said, and she stuck out her tongue at me. “I don’t care. Don’t do it again.”]

“Long story.” Count Leem said, running his hands down his face. His hair was slightly unkempt, and his face had a long, haggard look to it. Deep black marks were under his eyes, and his voice sounded as tired as he looked.

“That long, huh?” Fiera asked, glancing over the sentences describing his appearance.

“Yes.” He sighed.

“So what’s with the flute?” Nick asked him.

“That is a family heirloom.” Count Leem said, glancing over at the flute in Fiera’s hands.

“What’s it called? And what’s it do?” Fiera asked, inspecting the instrument closely.

“It’s called the Fish’s Flute. As for what it can do, I can show you better than tell you.” Count Leem held out his hand.

Fiera looked down at the flute, then back at the Count. “Okay.” she said, reluctantly handing it over.

“Thank you.” The Count slipped the flute gently into his gray coat, then began to walk northward after his men.

“Hey! You said you’d show me what it does!” Fiera called after him.

“I will, when the time comes.” the Count shouted back. “It won’t work here.”

“Fine! Have a good trip, General Lee.” Fiera cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted the words, then stood and listened for a moment. After a few seconds, a very faint “General Lee!” floated across the sky to her. She grinned as the Count’s low moan rolled back to her.

“Serves him right.” she said, turning back to Nick and Naia. [“And Portia too.” she said to me. “Well, if I said that, then the sentence would be a little awkward.” I said. “Whatever. It’d still be true.”]

“So now what?” Nick asked, and Naia flitted around Fiera happily, dousing her in a trail of bubbles.

“Now we’re going to find Pacifica.” Fiera said, shooting me an angry look. “Right?”

“No, next time.” I said, and Fiera jumped up at me.

“No! I am not going through this again. I want my Chosen One!” she said, landing on the stage.

“I know you do.”

“So that’s why you’re not going to let me have her, is that it?” Fiera challenged, storming towards me angrily.

“Fiera, I promise that I will let you have Pacifica back in the next chapter.” I said, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Repeat that.” she said.

“Fiera, you can just read the previous sentence.” I said.

“I know!” she shouted, clenching her fists. She closed her eyes and pinched her nose as she took a calming breath. “But you are going to say that again.”

“I promise to let you have Pacifica next chapter.” I said.

“You’d better.” She glared at me threateningly. “Now go away and hurry up and get to the next chapter.”

“All right, Fiera. Goodbye.” I started to save the document, and she pushed the save box away.

“You’d better not go back on your promise.” she said, staring around the box.

“I won’t Fiera.” I went to click the save button, and she held the cursor away.

“I mean it. Don’t you dare keep Pacifica away from me.”

“All right, I get the point. You can have Pacifica in the next chapter.” I said.

“Yes!” Fiera jumped down excitedly and let go of the mouse. I grinned and clicked save, closing the document.