Frozen Memories

Have what they got

Etho stood awkwardly in the shadow of the high climbing mountains, the ginger haired Cleo staring shaken and aghast at the dark opening.

Etho was aware of why Cleo seemed so frightened. Another tremor could send many tunnels into collapse, trapping, or crushing, the runaway Tennessean.

The small group was suspended in silent stillness, the only sounds being wind whistling through the long grasses, and the sincere ringing of Maya's movements. Nothing seemed to happen.

Impulse was the first to speak up, giving a small startle to the unmoving atmosphere. "He'll be alright. If I know anything about Joe, he can handle himself."

Cleo turned around, glancing towards Impulse. "I'm waiting for him," she spoke. "If he's gone more than twenty minutes, I'm going in."

Etho backed up, feeling an unusual chill on his arms. His hair stood on end. For a late summer afternoon at the rocky edge of a savannah, it was unnaturally cold.

The sun still beat down on his back, though it gave little warmth. He turned suddenly, glaring at the far distant palace. It didn't look any different than it did just a few hours earlier, but he felt something would happen. Something was supposed to happen.

Something had to happen.

He hadn't noticed, but he had walked a few paces to the northern shore, his eyes locked onto the island in the mist, and his feet steadfast in the dead ground.

The air refused to stop, a sheer noise emanated as the breeze navigated the dry crags and buttes.

The rest of the group vanished from Etho's mind as he focused on the distant castle. The air grew colder, the shrill, sharp wind tailed from behind him.

He waited with immense anticipation. He kept staring. He ignored the wind on his back, though it was cold.

Etho smiled behind his mask, though he couldn't say why.

The sky grew dark; the sun seemingly vanished behind a sudden onslaught of clouds.

Something in his mind grew exited, as if it had been waiting for this.

The darkness didn't last long, as a beam of white light blasted from the island in the northern sea.

~

Beef's gaze broke from the shimmering beam of inconstitute light, flickering to the Mumbo-shaped worry beside him. His eyes were locked onto the distant north.

"It- that-" Mumbo stuttered. "This day just gets worse and worse."

He shook himself off, before suddenly dashing through the sand to the sheer cliff. Mumbo scaled the plateau in small leaps, making good progress.

Beef watched him for a moment, concern growing when he stumbled over the cliff. Beef quickly threw himself over the 150-odd feet of stone in one large leap, caught Mumbo, and continued until about two-thirds up the cliff, his jacket caught on a pitch-dark stone.

In quick thought, he tore the stone from the cliff and held it as he landed neatly atop the cliff. The whole fiasco lasted less than a minute.

"Did-" Mumbo hyperventilated beside him, sitting on the ground. "What? How?"

"I'm good at jumping, I guess," Beef sounded as he rubbed the side of the crystal. It gave no reflection, as if all light was absorbed into its smooth surface. He pocketed it.

"Right," He said as he caught his breath.

They looked over at the city of Guston, where the altitude cast the sunset at least a half-hour back, so where the sun had just set at sea-level, the sheer plateau was just beginning to be cast in the golden hue.