More Than An Innocent Mist

• Shiye Su, Grade 7, Ironside State School
• Short Story
• 2010

Finalist in the 'Word Express 2010' competition

Sunlight lit the first fallen autumn leaf as if floated down to earth. Every little intricate vein was shining with a luminescent gold before it wandered out of the sun’s rays, and onto the dew covered grass of March.
Suddenly, without a hint of a warning, an unnaturally strong gust of wind swept up the surrounding soil, creating a murky brown sandstorm. An eerie electric tingle seemed to dance playfully in the air, betraying the presence of an Old One. A deafening silence descended, extinguishing the voice of songbirds which eventually receded into nothingness.
At the peak of the hill, a millennium year old girl trapped inside a sixteen-year-old body raised her arms, as if gloriously calling out to heaven. At that moment, the earth seemed to clear a crevice resembling two cliffs suddenly dropping down to the dark, unknown abyss below. The age ruled by dragons that was stolen by humans was about to be reclaimed.
And humanity would be erased, thought the girl with a malicious smile.
As the girl anticipated, a flash of light shot through the sky, disappearing into the clouds with a thunderous crack. The sky started to spit, each gentle drip as fine as a needle point. A ribbon of black mist swam lazily across the sky, leaving a trail of smoky fog. But it was no innocent mist, but something else: perhaps, just maybe, the tail of a dragon.
She was now dripping wet, but on her face was a dangerously malicious smile, symbolic of her victory.
The first dragon had risen, and the rest were to come to throw the world into chaos.

*

Although the rain that was conjured was only light, many thousands of miles away there were still a few scattered drops. A boy in his late teens leant over a bed which supported a frail old man, awaiting death to claim his old friend. The boy squeezed the dying man’s sickishly translucent hand. The man’s eyes flickered open and shut, his soul drifting between boundaries.
Finally, those eyes flickered shut, and remained closed. The boy was suddenly caught in a world of pain, his sorrow beyond tears. Snatches of memories played in his mind as he grieved the death of someone nobody knew once lived. Heaving the windowpane up, he quietly listened to the peaceful splash of rain outside on the concrete pavement. It sounded beautiful, like someone plucking a harp. He felt hollow, trapped in a void of nothingness.
Behind him, the old man’s eyes suddenly flew open. The man tried to pull himself up, rustling the blanket. The boy spun around at the sound, clutching the man’s hand tightly, desperate not to lose him again. It was a dying man who, summoning all his energy, lifted a finger to point out at the window, letting out an uninterpretable croak.
“What? What?” he pressed frantically.
With his final effort the old man uttered two words before falling back to his deathbed.
“They’re back,” he whispered.