In the Beginning

** The following is the fifth installment in a series of stories that is a collaborative effort of Vocal Creators. The theme is Winter. Be sure to check out the previous parts of the story from the group!

Previous Parts

I: Beyond the Boundary by Lena

II: To the Realm Beyond by Dannielle Nelson

III: From the Realm Beyond the Boundary by Lilli Knight

IIII: Into the Boundary by Esmoore Shurpit

**

In the Beginning...

I existed before it all. I made the trees grow and culminated rocks into caves. I pulled this mountain up from the earth and made it my home. I created the first man and woman. I watched as villages were built and babies were born. But then, I wondered if I’d made the right decision.

I watched and worried as people tried to swim across the expansive lake between habitation and my wilderness. But, of course, the swim was too far; I made it that way. But, still, they tried. And they drowned.

Until her. She was like you once. She traversed the water like a serpent. She didn’t come for her people but for herself. That’s where her determination came from—selfishness.

She emerged from the water on this side with a gasp. She hacked her way through the overgrown forest and reached the mountain. She climbed without resting. I knew she needed to, but she wouldn’t let herself until she reached the top.

When she reached the summit, I floated above her, invisible, as she called upon the wrong gods, and they answered.

She collapsed and writhed on the ground. She screamed so loudly the villagers thought it was distant thunder. Her body lurched in ways and directions it was not created to, and her bones broke. I watched as red blood poured from her eyes until it ran black. I listened as her heart thumped slowly and then ceased its beating.

I could have done something then. I should have done something then, but I wanted to see what she had planned. I was selfish, then, wanting to see how she and her gods thought they could ruin my world, the world I created. Because surely there was none more powerful than me.

But when her eyes came back to life, when her bones cracked into place and into repaired sockets, I knew. I knew I was wrong.

I tried to fight back then. I wanted to bring her to my side.

“Ikora,” I whispered from above.

“Ikora, stop! Turn back, child.”

She scoffed and picked herself up.

“Ikora…” I began to beg.

She flung her arm at me as if to shoo me off and a great gust of wind blew me several feet away. Nothing could have budged me before.

“No.” She said, smiling.

Ice crystals shot out of her skin and formed a gown around her. They spread into the field on the mountaintop and destroyed the wildflowers— I had created each tiny petal with love.

As the ice moved down, it created cracks in my mountain, and as she lifted her hands, snow began to fall through me and covered the ground and the trees.

She moved her arms again as if conducting an orchestra, and Iblis grew up from the earth, cracking into being like her own broken bones had moments ago.

I had to do something. So, before the snow and ice covered it all, I called up all my power. Then, with it, I pulled Savaric into the world from the last blades of grass just before the cold reached the water, and it began to freeze.

When that wasn’t enough, and she grew bored, she cast the sickness across the expanse just to watch the others suffer. She and the Iblis made a game of betting how long each brave soul would last in the expanse before it devoured them.

………................................................................................................................

Now you are here.

I thought you had a chance, just like the one before you. But you seem to have fallen into her trap too.

Then, when you reached the platform midway up the mountain, I saw what you had in mind. You hadn’t believed her. You knew.

She turned around to point to where you needed to climb next. In those few seconds, you removed the necklace from your neck, crumpled it in your hand, and silently grabbed the knife from your belt.

As she turned to face you, you lunged. You stabbed the knife hard through her frozen skin, into her dead heart, and twisted it. Then, while she was distracted, you thrust the beads onto her face, and she screamed. Her face burned.

**Be sure to check out the next installments of this story from my fellow writers. Gerald Holmes will be writing the next addition.**