Dusty Red ~ Part 7

I must say that all you readers are very lucky that I actually posted today. You see, my cousin Jessica is here, I've been counting down the days for weeks now... But anyway I took the time to do this, just for those who don't have their cousin to distract them from reading blogs. As I'm writing this it is actually Wednesday, so on Friday (which will be today by the time you read this) I really won't have to do much other than click publish... I wrote the actual story on Tuesday and Monday, not that it really matters. Also on Tuesday I got a little distracted from writing; I was just sitting at the computer thinking about 'Rocos' and where that might actually be, and then I started making a map and this is the result!

It just occurred to me that I don't have a compass thing...I'll have to fix that.

It took me most of the afternoon but I'm quite pleased with the result! I decided to put Rocos in a place I knew, so it is now in the same world as Eirerandil, which is where 'The Bridge of Anskar' is set. I haven't decided on the name of the North/top country above Rocos as of yet but I'll work it out sometime. For your information, the circle of grey termite mound looking things in Rocos is actually the Stone Circle.

I've been told that I'd have to change the name of the story soon or else get them back to somewhere dusty again. But I object, it's called dusty red, because of the colour of Flicks' hair, as well as because of where it was set. Besides, when I named it I didn't know they were going to get world transported, that was all your fault! I do understand why I might have to change the picture though... 

But now, to the story, the votes were for us Two B not not to be...if that made any sense...

Ron’s mouth opened and closed for a few seconds then he burst into tears again, “All my experiments were wasted! Now I’ll have to live out my days in a freezing place with rocks and clouds for company!” Flicks knelt beside him and patted his shoulder. Skilf stiffened, holding up a finger for silence, and everyone heard the scuffing, sniffling sound that came from outside the hut. Skilf bit her lip and when she spoke her voice was a hoarse whisper, “Wolves.”

Ron sniffed, “Wolves?”

“Aye, wolves,” Skilf replied, “We’ll have to find a place in here to hold them off.” 

Flicks looked around, “But where?” She felt her heart quicken again and she caught sight of two gleaming eyes near the hole.

Skilf crouched and picked up a fist sized rock from the floor, hefting it in her hand and watching the wolf vigilantly. The eyes came closer and Flicks heard a low growl, she too picked up a rock. Flicks threw the rock, using the force of her whole body to send it spinning in a direct line, right to where she aimed it.

The wolf yelped and disappeared. Skilf nodded to Flicks, “Good shot. But we’ve got to be careful, these are no normal wolves. We need a more defendable position.” Her gaze swept the room and she crossed to the other side of the hut, carefully avoiding the entrance where the wolf had disappeared from. 

Flicks edged towards the gap in the wall, peering out tentatively. Wolves surrounded the small hut, their bright eyes gleaming in the night, their grey coats merely shadows. Flicks drew back as they growled menacingly, returning to where Kendal and Ron stood.

Kendal was fingering his gun, tossing it in the air and catching it again. It flashed in the dim moonlight as it spun through the air. Flicks pursed her lips, one gun wouldn’t help much.

“Hey Flicks!” Skilf called, “If everyone comes over here and lends a hand we can stack up some of these stones and climb onto the roof.” 

Flicks nodded, even if she knew Skilf couldn’t see. “C’mon,” she said to Ron, smiling at him. She glanced at Kendal but he had already replaced his gun in his belt and was picking his way towards Skilf. Flicks shivered, something was wrong, Kendal was never this quiet and helpful. Then she shrugged, it was probably just the shock of being stuck in a place like this. 

Probably.

The corner Skilf stood in was relatively whole, and she’d already stacked plenty of rocks in a neat pile. She nodded to them now, “If we lug them over to the hole in the roof we can stack ‘em up and climb out.” Skilf glanced at Kendal and said, somewhat stiffly, “Would you mind keeping guard?” Kendal didn’t reply but he went over to the gap, his gun in his hand again.

The others hurried in the job of stacking up the stones, Skilf packed them together below the hole in the roof, so they wouldn’t tip when someone stood on them. They’d only been doing it for a short time when Kendal warned, “They’re closing in.”

Skilf looked out over his shoulder and pressed her lip together, “That’ll have to do. They’re coming for us now.” She turned around and scrutinized Ron, “You’ll have to go up after someone else as you’re the shortest and I’m not sure if you can do it without help.” She thought quickly, “Flicks, you guard and Kendal will go up, then Ron.” She paused looking unsure.

“You can go up before me,” Flicks said, taking her place at the gap. The dark shapes of the wolves were even closer now, the growl had changed to a snarl. They were tired of waiting, it was time to attack.

Kendal pulled himself through the roof which groaned and creaked under him. “Spread out your weight so the roof doesn’t collapse,” Skilf called from below.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Kendal snapped back at her, grudgingly reaching down to help old Ron, grunting with effort as Ron scrambled up beside him. Flicks didn’t turn around but she knew something was definitely wrong, the old Kendal would never have helped Ron.

The wolves were but a few meters away, Flicks hurled a rock at one but it dodged aside and barely hesitated in its advance. The eyes of every wolf were on Flicks, she tried to think of something else she could do. She dropped her gaze, lowering her head and pretending to look down, but still watching the wolves through a fringe of her hair.

“I’m going up,” Skilf called, pulling herself through the gap. 

Flicks took a deep breath, “Do I just run?” she asked her voice tight with nervous tension.  

“Aye!” Skilf shouted down, “Now!”

Flicks dashed to the hole in the roof, the distance seeming huge. She heard a howl from behind as the wolves surged after her. Flicks had no time to think, she jumped, feeling arms grab her from above pulling her to safety. 

Flicks sensed a wolf below her and kicked out with her leg, hitting something soft that fell back at her thrust.

Then she was on the roof, winded but safe - for the moment.

Skilf knelt beside her, her breath coming in gasps. “You...Ok?” she asked.

“I think so,” Flicks panted, “That was close though, I hope I never see a wolf again in all my life.”

Skilf nodded, “Aye, it was much closer than I thought it would be. I should’ve been the one down there.”

Flicks shook her head, “No, I may not have been so quick at pulling you up. I’m fine, but what are we going to do now?”

Skilf twisted her mouth, “Wait until morning I guess, and hope the roof doesn’t cave in before then, and the wolves don’t have exceptional climbing skills.”

A howl came from below, along with vicious snarls and growls. Flicks felt the roof beneath her shake as the wolves leapt up, trying to get at the four huddled on the roof.

Old Ron propped up himself up on his elbow, “When do mornin’ be anyways?”

Skilf shrugged, “Hard to say, since I have no idea. But I started walking up here at midnight, if that helps at all.”

Ron frowned, “Not really, but do there be nothing we can be doin’?”

“I can’t think of anything, but if you have an idea I’m open for suggestions,” Skilf said, hurriedly pulling her legs away from the edge of the roof as snapping jaws chomped the air near them. “The wolves probably won’t leave until dawn, unless whoever sent them comes, but we won’t be any better off then,” Skilf said grimly.

“Sent them?” Flicks asked, “But aren’t they wild?”

Skilf shook her head, “These are no normal wolves.”

Kendal shifted, making the thatch creak ominously. “I hope the roof doesn’t collapse,” Skilf said meaningfully.

Kendal scowled at her. “Who sent them?” he asked shortly.

Skilf glanced around then said… 

~

 You may be asking why you see no options here, I say, ahh, but there is! Only I'm doing something slightly different this time, but there are still options, here they are:

1. It's just the same...

2. except you have to...

3. think up the options.

Even more of the 'choose your own adventure' now! This is just for fun remember so don't worry, you don't have to come up with anything amazing. It can be just a short summary of the general thing that might happen in instalment 8, or what you think Skilf might be about to say. Just randomly brainstorm and I’m sure you’ll come up with something, even if it is as weird as Skilf saying, “The Fluffy Bunnies!” And, to add to the bargain, that would be really funny.

So just comment your option, and this time, I get to choose! But I'm open to suggestions of which one is your favourite. 'Cause it's you I'm writing for.

I'm looking forward to your comments, except now I have to wait until Friday before you can read this...aww what a let-down...But I can comfort myself with the fact that my cousin is coming tomorrow and we can sneak around outside together, wave swords around and do some archery or just sit wondering what to do. I must say, this will be confusing to read. To top it off I hope I don't completely forget to publish this...

Oh well, I'll do my best, you have my sword. (My precious! Don't you dare take my sword, have my word instead, it means nothing!)

You know, sometimes I think I'm just a little crazy...but then I come to my senses and realise, no, that would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable! I'm entirely crazy...Sorry about that. I'd better go now.

Fare thee well! (Greybeard Halt)

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Friday's update: I'm finding this rather amusing reading this today...it is kind of confusing. Sorry about that...but at least I remembered to publish this!

ANZAC Day ~ Marching in the Band

So I have deemed the day post worthy! Now where shall I start? At the beginning...

I woke up (I know, it's amazing) and thought about all those poor people out at 4 in the morning doing the dawn service, poor, poor them....

A bit before ten Clare and I drove to where the band was meeting. Only problem was that there was a massive traffic jam. We had to be there at ten so I was sitting in the car going, "Hurry up cars, just hurry up!" it didn't really work. I must mention that I was wearing my formal uniform which consisted of: a long sleeve white button-up shirt, black trousers, my red band vest, the random tieish kind of thing, and some 'nice' black shoes and socks. Not really my style...

Look at all that lovely red and black and white.

Eventually we got there and parked the car a bit down the street then started running up the road. Then a friend of ours (let's just call him Cal) jumped out of his car and started running with us (may I just mention that he was also in band and also running late). I heard later that he and his dad had been driving slowly and looking around to work out where it was they were meant to be and then his dad saw Clare and me so Cal got kicked out of the car to follow us because we looked like we knew where we were going! We only kind of did.

Me! I'm very glad that I didn't look as weird and uncomfortable wearing these as I felt...

But we found everyone else fairly quickly and Cal and I had to grab our music and our hats (lovely sailor kind of hats...again not my style) and get to our places. Then since some people hadn't arrived yet I had to change lines and moved around and it was a bit confusing but I ended up stuck in the middle of a row of Saxophones. When we were about to move off the extra-late people turned up but there wasn't time for everyone to move around again so the late ones just had to march up the back.

The person in the middle is Cal...well his back at least.

So we marched along the street, I'm quite surprised how much I played, and I only got out of time once for a step of so! One drummer dropped his drumstick but luckily he could get a spare from the person beside him. It was a bit random walking/marching along and then going, "Oh, look at that, someone dropped their drumstick..."

Me marching..and frowning...I was concentrating very hard as you can see.

I enjoyed the marching and playing, I'm not so keen on the counter marches (look it up if you don't know what that means) when we have to walk right between two drummers and it's just so loud. I don't know how they stand it! 

After the counter-march.

After we finished the march we sat down...and sat down....for an hour....in between the sitting we did have to play a few songs like 'Oh God our Help in Ages Past' and the Australian and New Zealand national anthems. During the space between the playing everyone got hot and one person decided that at the next band meeting they'd request for band singlets and shorts to be made! My fellow flute player and sitting-next-to-me person for some random reason asked me what year I was in...after some thought I said 8, and the look on her face was so funny. Apparently she didn't realise I was that old. I'd better not forget to mention that during this time my photographer sister was climbing a tree to get better photos...well she was until she realised that if she could see everyone that meant everyone could see her...Ah, Clare, you are funny sometimes...

You can't actually see me in this one, just my hat if you look closely.
I'm in the second row 'cause I'm a second flute.
(For all you unmusical people out there that means I get slightly different music.)

Last night at band practice at the hall she (my friend) still hadn't gotten over it. She kept saying, "You're not that old" and "My sister's in year 8 and all her friends are so old, but you aren't!" and one really cool thing she said was, "You're not like any of those teenagers out there" waving her arm around the room at several of the other people. I was like, thanks so much! I don't want to be like them! It was really cool. I think she's one of the people who'd call themselves Christian, once when I brought up to subject of church she said she went to church sometimes. But it's quite interesting the things we have in common, we both like medieval weapons and reading and other things like that.

So that was my ANZAC day, I hope it wasn't too boring, I've probably forgotten something extremely interesting and will remember as soon as I've published this post...but by that time it will be too late, so Fare Thee Well!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Dusty Red ~ Part 6

We have come to the 6th instalment of Dusty Red. My apologies for the slight shortcomings it contains as it was all whipped up literally in a few hours before lunch today. It took me ages to decide what should actually happen..but I have now so that's all good. I also apologise for the lateness in the day....

Well, it's ANZAC Day tomorrow and since I'm in the town band I'll be doing the main march, I wasn't brave enough to do the dawn service at 4 in the morning, scorn me if you like but I'm not doing it. But the march should be interesting, there may be a post about it on Monday, it depends how interesting it actually turns out to be.

Now that I've finally got around to writing I hope you enjoy and, as always, I'm looking forward to your comments. Number one it is! Yes...The random misty rocks...and guess what! My characters have finally found the Misty Mountains!

They were surrounded by huge blocks of stone, looming out of a cloudy wet substance that obscured anything further than a few meters away.

Flicks walked to one stone and placed her hand on the rough surface. A soft murmuring began, seeming to come from all around her. Flicks jerked back her hand and the chilling sound stopped, echoing into stillness. She looked over her shoulder, Ron looked rather green in the face and Kendal’s expression was one of fury, or was it fear?

Flicks walked slowly around the stone. It was grey like any other rock, but the size was impossible, like a giant’s debodied leg. She reached out towards the stone once more, but she stopped, frowning, her hand just centimeters from the stone. A whistling sound came faintly to her, at first distant but getting steadily closer.

Somehow it reminded Flicks of herself.

Flicks peered through the shadowy mist and caught sight of a bobbing light coming nearer. She glanced at the others again, her heart beating faster, Ron was now slumped against a tree stump and Kendal just stood staring at the stone closest to him as if it would eat him alive at any moment.

The light was even closer and Flicks pressed against the stone for shelter. She jumped back again as the whispers began. The light abruptly stopped moving, Flicks could now see the dark shadow of the person holding it, “Who’s there?’ a voice called, strong and clear. Flicks shivered, the voice also sounded strangely familiar.

The figure came closer again until they were only a meter a way from Flicks, who’s heart was beating so fast now she felt it would just stop.

It was a girl standing in front of her, about the same age and size as Flicks. The girl looked Flicks up and down for a few seconds before she spoke again, “And who might you be?”

Flicks stared back, “I…I’m…Flicks Tiller…I suppose…”

The girl raised her eyebrows, using the exact expression Flicks had when Ron was talking about his magic potion. “You suppose? Have you forgotten your own name?”

Flicks shook her head, ‘No, I haven’t, it’s just I’m a little confused right now,” she hesitated. “Where are we?”

“We are in the middle of the night, in the middle of the mist, in the middle of the stone circle, which happens to be in the middle of Rocos,” the stranger said. “My name is Skilf.”

“I see…” Flicks said, her thoughts whirling so much that her mind was fit to burst.

“How and why did you come here at this time of night?” Skilf asked, her green eyes curious.

“We…well, I’m not entirely sure, you see, we just kind of  appeared here, through that hut thing,” Flicks stumbled over her explanation, knowing how bizarre it would sound. 

Skilf looked at the old stone hut thoughtfully, “I see,” she murmured mostly to herself, repeating exactly what Flicks had said just before.

Ron had regained his feet and approached them, “Who do this be Flicks?” he asked with a sniff, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“Her name is Skilf,” Flicks answered, still half in a daze.

Ron surveyed Skilf then he frowned, “Excuse me, but do I be knowin’ ye? Ye look a bit familiar some’ow.”

Skilf shrugged, “Beats me, ‘cause I don’t know you.”

Ron’s eyes suddenly widened, “That’s ‘o ye be like! Ye look like Flicks!” 

He was right.

Flicks stared at Skilf who stared back, the expressions on their faces identical. But so was every other feature. “How?” Flicks shook her head in wonder, what in the world was going on?

“I didna recognise ye at first ‘cause o’ yer clothes and ye aint go no hat. But ye be as like as twins! Skilf my eyebrows, if I didna know better I’d think ye were Flicks!” Ron looked from one to the other in a mazement.

A growl came from behind them, “What’s this? Two Flicks? Well, isn’t that a prize,’ Kendal had recovered slightly from his shock and now his lip curled in a sneer. “Now since the ‘twins’ are reunited perhaps we should try get out of this godforsaken place.” He nearly shouted the last words.

Kendal stomped over to the hut and crashed through the hole in the wall, a frightened light came into Ron’s eyes again that had been dispelled by the surprise of their discovery, and he followed Kendal. Flicks shrugged at Skilf, and they both trailed after the others.

Inside the dust caught in their throats and in the hazy light they tripped over several times. Kendal reached were they’d come from first and looked around. A hole in the thatch roof showed the stars above them, faint through the thin fog, but all around there was nothing of interest, no doors or holes or anything. Kendal kicked the side of the hut in frustration sending splinters of thatch raining down from the roof. Flicks shook her head to get the bits of hay out of her red hair, her double mirrored the action.

“How about the roof?” Skilf suggested. She’d realised by now that these were no ordinary travellers, and the girl Flicks was looking anxious. Besides, she wanted to get rid of Kendal as fast as possible anyway, she didn’t like the man.

Kendal turned a sarcastic eye on her, “Young lady, you may not be aware but I don’t want to get to the stars.”

Ron shrugged, his face pale, “We can at least be tryin’ it oot.”

Kendal snorted, “Silly idea really, I suppose you’ll be wanting me to do it?”

Flicks pursed her lips, “Well, it shouldn’t be too hard, you should be able to jump and grab it.”

“But if it’s too tricky I’ll do it,” Skilf added.

“I’m everyone’s slave now am I?” Kendal growled, glaring at Skilf, but he jumped anyway, grasping the wooden support beams and pulling himself up. He balanced there and stuck his head out the roof.

His boots thumped on the ground as he jumped back down, “Nothing,” he said, “Just what we can see from here.” Kendal’s voice was dangerously low now. “Maybe the fool that got us here in the first place can get us back out again,” he glared at Ron who glared back, 

“I were tellin’ ye it be volatile but ye didna listen!”

Kendal narrowed his eyes, “Are you saying this is my fault?”

But before Ron could reply Flicks interrupted, “You said there was nothing? So there’s no way out?” Flicks stared at Ron and Kendal her eyes wide, already knowing the answer.

They were stuck, in the middle on the night when it was supposed to be day, in the middle of some strange cloudy, wet stuff, in the middle of a lot of massive rocks, which just happened to be in the middle of some place with some weird name that none of them had ever heard of before.

~

And the options...

1. Skilf blinked and then stuck out her bottom lip, lifting one shoulder, “Well, how about you all come with me to the town. It’s quite nice there and we can think about what to do then.”

2. Ron’s mouth opened and closed for a few seconds then he burst into tears again, “All my experiments were wasted! Now I’ll have to live out my days in a freezing place with rocks and clouds for company!” Flicks knelt beside him and patted his shoulder, Skilf stiffened, holding up a finger for silence, and everyone heard the scuffing, sniffling sound that came from outside the hut. Skilf bit her lip and when she spoke her voice was a hoarse whisper, “Wolves.”

3. A loud trumpeting call echoed around, Flicks winced at the amount of noise. A frown crossed Skilf’s face and then her eyes widened, “The invaders!”

~

I've been having a little trouble deciding what kind of world they've got themselves into so I'm leaving that up to you as well!

A. Science Fiction

B. Some random Fantasy realm

C. Medieval kingdom

~

So you have a great decision on your hands, you even get to decide what the world is like! Feel the power and don't let it go to waste. Comment and vote for your favourite options. Hope ya have a nice day!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

The Battle of Swords Has Begun...

A very serious duel...

I swing my sword in a glittering arc and my opponent parries it skillfully. Our swords clash repeatedly, mine sometimes striking on her golden shield. My opponent is retreating fast and I advance, apparently gaining the upper hand, even if I only have a sword and she has a shield. But then my opponent uses unfair tactics. With surprising speed she spins her double handed blade and sinks the point into my knee. I say "Ouch!" and hop around on one leg for a few seconds and then the duel is recommenced...

True story...minus the glittering swords, sinking in of the point into my knee and the skill Sarah (my friend - and opponent in this particular duel) and I were apparently wielding them with.

Me hopping around on one foot due to a (not) serious leg injury 

All weaponry was made by the master swordsmith I believe I have previously mentioned. If you want to see how he made Sarah's sword he's done a blog post on it recently. 

But all this started with our Bright Lights Group (a discipleship thing for girls) having a singing-at-the-old-peoples-home-day-whatsitcalled-thingamajig.

There were ten girls, me included (Oh and my two older sisters were part of the ten - they're the leaders) who went, and it was all good and fun. When we got back everyone left except for aforementioned Sarah and her two littler sisters. Their mum had gone to do something or other, and so we played a card game while we waited for her to return. When she did we hadn't quite finished the game, and so she decided to drive up to the neighbours (also friends of ours) and left her children to walk up after her.

But...(here comes the interesting part) Sarah had brought her new sword and shield (I'd already seen her other 3 swords) to show me and we had a duel (already described) before they left. Swordsmith Zach had already made me a nice battle sword - perhaps a little too long for me but who cares...

Then we walked with them up the road, Sarah and I seemingly cutting our heads off by the way we were carrying our swords. My younger brother Samuel had got the cardboard shield I made for him out of a cake tray thing, and was carrying it around to match us. 

When we got to the neighbour's place, the mothers were talking so we randomly started fighting again. At one stage I was fighting Samuel; he had his shield and Sarah's sword (which was about as long as he is tall) I had my sword and Sarah's shield. But then Sarah and Zach's youngest sister started attacking me with Zach's two little knife things (a saxe and throwing knife). At first she was just trying to 'stab' me but then she started throwing them at me which made it harder for both of us. I don't know how many times I 'killed' both of them, but they never seemed to die.

Fighting 2 people at once really isn't as easy as it looks

There was one really cool time when I was standing around with just my sword and youngest sister of S+Z threw a knife at me. I was totally not expecting it and just whacked it with my sword instinctively. And I hit it! It's amazing how satisfying it is to do something like that.

See the knife sticking out of my foot?
(Actually it's still flying through the air and lands in between my feet)

Yeah...I'm pulling a really weird face...

Then we started throwing knives at the shield we'd propped up a few meters away. We hit it a few times and then 12 year old neighbour number 2 (in order of their age she is 2nd of three. There isn't two 12 year old ones though) well anyway, she decided that the shield was too low so I, being the only one brave enough and having enough confidence in my own abilities (such as my hand-eye co ordination), offered to go and hold it. (I may have forgot to mention these weapons are made of wood, they aren't real. I'm not that stupid.)

So there I was holding the shield by the edges (sadly there are no photos of this)....until Neighbour number 2 hit my finger with the knife (rather ouch) and I started holding the shield in a slightly different way. 

The knife flies through the air and...Hits the shield Sarah is hiding behind!
(At this particular time I was the thrower)

I only had to duck once, and it's a good thing too, because otherwise the knife would probably have hit me in the head if I hadn't. After a while I started moving the shield around so the knives actually hit it...but then...one of them...hit it a little hard...and you know...every action has an equal and opposite reaction...in other words...it broke....

But luckily it shouldn't be too hard to fix, it only needs a little super-glue. 

So we stopped throwing knives and I stopped being a target, but in the words of the swordsmith, the two swords had seen better days...namely...yesterday (well now a few days ago now, but saying "namely Wednesday the 15th of April" doesn't sound quite as good)

But all in all it was a really fun time...we'll have to do it again some day soon. We could add in some archery and that would be even cooler. Or maybe we'll just have to sing at the nursing home more often...

On Friday my injuries were: one greenish grey finger courtesy of the throwing knife (very interesting - at least the finger is, not the knife), a blue wrist from a sword, a bruise on my ankle from Samuel, and I don't think I even got a bruise from my first war wound in my duel with Sarah. And what's more my sword didn't break (yay!) So all in all I'm pretty pleased with the result!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

P.S. All photos courtesy of my sister Clare (who is a really good photographer among other things) And thank you again to the swordsmith...You do a much better job then I could.

Dusty Red ~ Part 5

We're already up to five? I've posted every week for that long? Wow! I'm amazed, I hope you are too. You don't know how lucky you are. Maybe this story thing was a good idea.
I would tell you a little about my week, but not much has really happened except for a mighty battle. But you'll have to wait until Monday to hear about that as it was too long to be put here. Every one would just get sick of waiting and just skip to the story!
But enough about that now, I don't want to keep you waiting anyway. This time option 2 has been voted in. Enjoy!

From behind her, in the house, Flicks heard a shout and then she was flung forwards as, in a crash, the door disintegrated in a massive explosion, the likes of which Dusty Town had never seen.

Her forehead slammed into something hard, something that crunched at the impact. Flicks fell to the ground as splinters flew through the air.

When silence fell Flicks found herself looking right into someone’s face, a face with a rather smashed looking nose. She pushed herself up off Lars and turned to look at old Ron’s house. The door was beyond saving, most of it lying in splinters around her. Dust still floated in the air as she peered inside, temporarily forgetting Kendal. Would old Ron be alright? 

Flicks took a hesitant step inside, then with no warning whatsoever, another explosion rocked the ground, sending Flicks reeling against the wall. A flying piece of wood hit her forehead and she crouched down, arms raised over her head.

When the last rumble echoed away she stood, her head spinning. Flicks stumbled forward, where was Ron?

She had come to like the old man, and he was basically her only friend. Could it be possible he was still alive? What had made the explosions anyway?

Flicks coughed as the dust clouded around her, and she stumbled forward, well aware that another explosion could blow her to smithereens at any moment. Luckily there were no more, and she found herself by old Ron’s work desk in one piece. And there, hunkered under it she saw Ron.

“Ron? Are you alright?”

The huddle looked up, “Flicks! I’d be thinking you’d gone!” Ron crawled out from under his desk and brushed himself off, “It just be a few failed experiments…” he trailed off, looking around him, seemingly just noticing the wreckage.

“I suppose you didn’t mean to destroy your house?” Flicks said, smiling weakly.

“No…I…I….Didnna….” Ron suddenly burst into tears.

Flicks stared for a moment or two, then she patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

“It be ruined! All my work! All the rust!” Ron’s voice was despairing between his sobs.

“Ron, really, just get hold of yourself. If we work together we can fix your house and your contraptions as well.” Flicks picked up a few bits of metal off a chair and pushed Ron down on it. “Just calm down,’ she admonished him, “Are you hurt?”

“Ruined…all ruined….” was all he said.

Flicks stood back, her head ached and old Ron’s exaggerating was getting difficult to deal with. She put a hand up to her forehead, her fingers met with a rather large bump. At that moment her vision swum and she grasped the table for support.

Old Ron immediately stopped his muttering and stood up anxiously, “Goodness me! You be hurt old girl! Here, you shoulda be the one as is sittin’ down.”

Flicks shook her head, blinking her eyes to clear them, “No,” she replied weakly, “I’ll be fine.”

Ron looked at her unsurely but then nodded, ‘If you be sayin’ so.”

“What made the explosions?” Flicks asked.

“Weel, I’m not entir’ly sure. It could be that,” he said, gesturing to a corner. “Or at least, what that was.”

Flicks looked where he was pointing and raised her eyebrows in spite of herself,  “Was is definitely the word to use. What did it use to be?”

“It were a heater. To heat the room when it be cold.”
Flicks was incredulous, “When does it ever get cold here? Surely you could think of something better.”

Ron glared at her then said, “Weel yes, I was working on it and I be just about to test it when it goes,” he waved around the room, “Boom!”

“You can say that again,” Flicks shook her head, wincing as it throbbed. 

“Well, look at this! A nice mess it is I must say,” Kendal’s voice came from the door.

“weel, what’re ye doin’ ‘ere?” Ron frowned, “I ain’t gonna ‘ave no bisness with the like o’ ye.”

 “Maybe you don’t have a choice,” Kendal growled, “You ‘n me have a score to settle, and the kid as well.”

“What ha’ you got aginst Flicks? She hasna done nothin’ to ye,” Ron protested.

Kendal didn’t reply, he just walked over to the bench, his eyes running over the books that still lay there, half covered in bits and pieces. He rummaged around for a few seconds and lifted something up. It was the jar apparently containing the magic potion.

“Hey!” Ron yelled, “You be puttin’ that there thing down. It be an important experiment!”

“Experiment is it?” Kendal sneered, “Just like the one that did this?” He waved the hand holding the bottle around the room.

Old Ron winced, “Careful wi’ that, it be highly volatile!”

Kendal lowered his hand, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, weel, it means…” he trailed off, scratching his head thoughtfully, “I think it means it be some‘ow dang’rous.”

Flicks looked at him in alarm, “If it’s so volatile then why were you going to empinar it?”

Both Ron and Kendal looked at her in bewilderment, “What’s that meant to mean?” Ron asked in wonder.

Flicks smiled, “It’s Spanish. It means drink. Hacer usted entender?”

The incomprehension on their faces made Flicks want to laugh. Kendal shook his head, “But we’re getting distracted, I want to know what’s so special about this jar of coloured water.”

Ron looked indignant, “It ain’t jest a jar o’ water! It be verra important and ye need to put it down afor you break it and ruin it jest like ev’ry thin’ else.”

“But what makes it important?” Kendal asked, “It better be valuable otherwise I’ll get yer friend Flicks in trouble fer smashing my mate’s nose.”

“Ye’ll do what?!” Ron asked incredulously, “And jest ‘o would be makin’ the trouble. I’d bet it’d be yerself as did it. Flicks couldna break some uns nose! ‘Specially not a big fellas like your friends be.”

 “Just tell me what this is or I’m going to smash it!” Kendal roared in Ron’s face.

Ron stepped backwards hurriedly, “Erm, it’s a potion…yes a potion….I made it by…”

“What does it do?”

“It…weel, it…umm,’ Ron shrugged, “I havena worked that out yet. I be workin’ on it though.”

“Well, I think you’ll just have to be disappointed,” Kendal smirked, and with all his strength threw the jar to the floor.

“No!” Ron yelled then everything exploded in a flash of fire-like light.

-------------------------------------------

Flicks opened her eyes, dim light surrounded her. She was lying on her back on something hard. It smelt strange, not at all like dry dust or heat. It was cold, very cold. She stood and looked around. Nearby Ron and Kendal were doing the same. The light trickled into the otherwise dark room through a large hole in the wall of crumbling stone. Flicks stumbled towards it, she heard the sounds of the others behind her.

The gap was wide enough to walk through and she did so, lurching into the more open space.
Kendal followed her, Ron behind him. Flicks just stared.

Kendal’s breathing sounded like a bellows, “Where are we?”

Flicks shook her head, leaning against the wall, her face showing her bewilderment.

Kendal turned to Ron, “What happened?” he snarled. Ron simply looked around open mouthed.

“What have you done?!” Kendal yelled, his voice rising almost to a shriek, “You idiot old man, where are we?”

Ron just continued to stare about in utter confusion, where ever they were, it wasn’t Dusty Town. They were…

~

1. Surrounded by huge blocks of stone, looming out of a cloudy wet substance that obscured anything any further than a few meters away.

2. In an ancient mansion, the walls hung with cobwebs and not a sign of life other than themselves.

3. In a beautiful garden, flowers of every colour blooming around them, and the leaves of the surrounding trees a beautiful golden red.

~

I hope that was long enough for every one. I'm not actually even having trouble writing 1,000 words, not really as hard as it sounds. This one was 1,263 words, give or take. 
I can't wait to see what end up happening next. Just choose your favourite and comment to vote!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden