Intermediate. Years 7/8/9

fire mage

By oliver chamberlain, year 8, Blanchelande School

‘Here,’ I whispered, ‘down here.’ My mate Fiona rushed passed me, her hand shimmering frosty blue illuminating the cavern. I wasn’t aware that I was staring at the mesmerizing blue ice circling around her hand, until a detonation blasted us back up the steps we came down with a spontaneous heat wall.

’Run!’ I screamed. I started, but something caught my eye, Fiona crawling out of the murky chamber with a lifeless leg, limp from behind her. She screamed in pain and before I knew it I was dragging her away. ‘This is what I was warned about, assassin attacks.’ I thought.

A day after the catastrophe we rented a house at a nearby village. I was in a bottomless pit of thought. 'How can we stop my undead uncle?’ I garbled, ’There is an option of kindness,’ but that thought swiftly evaporated. Tired, I rushed over to the unconscious friend. She suddenly opened one eye, weakly breathing, eyes threatening to loll back into her head.

'It's all right,’ I soothed. I’d had a healer for a considerable sum of money. As I walked over to the bed, exhausted, I was thankful for a warm duvet.

A couple of days later, we were packed and ready, hurrying down the only path. Something landed at my feet; a purple dart. 'My uncles' assassins!’… My shout ricocheted through the wooded area, more darts flying at us from every direction. They stopped right then, with a short sharp whistle. A tall figure came into view in front of us. It had gaps in it where light sparkled through its body, I’d seen it before, and it was just like… ‘My uncle!’

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