When Ice and Fire Meet (Fiction)

Fiction

Below is a brief experiment of mine in surrealist, fantasy fiction. I suppose it has more literary leanings than genre fiction. If abstract and strange stories are your thing, then enjoy!

I breathe out, and streams of ice pour into space. A few stars, red and ancient, fall. I pull back my hair. A few planets part as my hair sweeps through.  Two moons crash together, turning to dust. By my own power, I stand, for there’s nothing to stand on. I glow white against the dark. I ran my hands through the void. There’s nothing. 

I sink to sit in nothing. I smooth out a skirt made of airy nothing. The fabric drifts and flows before settling around my legs like a dead thing. I again braid the measureless miles of my hair. To think, I wished for this! When everything crashed in, this isolation saved me. Or so I thought. If only the silence would break. If something would just move.

My world cracks. A hand, black as my surroundings, reaches in. Embers fly through the rip in my reality. I should move away, but I reach for this light! A Soul pokes his head through. His fire eyes take me in. I know him. He – the reason I made this void to hide in. I stretch out my hand. Ice flows from my fingers. A cold curtain surrounds me. This is what I want. 

Flames lick at my ice walls. I strengthen what I’ve built – yet he breaks through, and reaches in, taking my hand. His touch burns. He closes his eyes tight; I know my ice hurts him as his fire burns me. Then he looks at me. I see the past again: when his sword ran me through and when my dagger pierced his heart. And the old world bled with us. 

We float. He reaches for my other hand but stops short. He searches my face. Forgive me, his eyes say. Maybe, if it’s not too late, we can start again. There’s nothing to lose, for what are we now but the ghosts of gods? We did it to ourselves in our final battle.

I take his other hand, and he pulls me from my void. I enter somewhere new. It’s cold, and there’s no sound. But there are living stars – more than I count. A young galaxy stretches before us. This – a new universe, made from the ashes of the old? He pulls me close, and I wrap my arms around him.

 ©2022