Ice is the power. Fire is the attitude.

By Kelsey McFarland

Staring at the blue sky, Myantay felt as if she was floating above the clouds. She flew among the birds that called to each other. Higher, and higher until-

"Myantay! Where is your head?" " Mayantay! Shpe’bocke namus addiay!" A voice interrupted Mayantay’s daydreaming.

"Above the clouds." "Fresay much lamusim." Myantay muttered.

"Well take it down and get back to work." "Kimu flay sa ‘kariey depos beily terk." The voice came from Myantay’s sister, Kimuchy. "We only have until sundown to harvest these plants." "Sip oleny veasa meko sumlaydun ma resemat pluma ‘plysema."

It was the year 2000 on the planet of Timosh, galaxy of Shanelia Gran. The beings that inhabited this planet were almost like humans…almost. They had skin of the same pigment as human skin. They spoke with a different language as Americans, or any other being on Earth for that matter. That was simply because of different galaxies, of course.

Something else separated these beings from humans. They could levitate. They could walk as well, but since flying was faster, most preferred it.

Myantay and Kimuchy’s family harvested a crop called Chiacho. It is like corn that humans on earth harvest, only it grows in shades of blues and purple, and it tastes much sweeter. Timsohins love chiacho.

Don’t think of Timsohins as inferior beings, for they are exactly like humans (except for the levitation, of course.) The clothes they wear are somewhat like what people wear, only females only wear dresses, and men wear shirts and pants, but their brown robes cover them up. Men always wear robes, while females only wear them when the weather is cold, or when it rains.

"Kimuchy, I think we are finished." "Kimuchy, O timas sip may loposed." Myantay said as she stood up, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

"Good. Now lets take these baskets back to our home." "Makie. Amo semoh tema tesa beiacke laky beily meyma itaks." Kimuchy picked up two baskets with one arm and one with the other, while Myantay picked up one in each. The harvest was small that year, because harsh rains had ruined most of the chiacho crop. There was only enough chiacho left for five baskets full.

" Winter will be hard this year." "Mesach yomo sew zema ashe oplay." Kimuchy said, walking alongside her younger sister. Myantay only nodded, for her mind was elsewhere again. This time it wasn’t up in the clouds, it was merely at the nearby river. She could imagine herself splashing in the cool water, with her sister. Kimuchy wasn’t so hard to live with, only when they were picking chiacho. Myantay would miss her once she got married.

Once home, Myantay and Kimuchy laid the baskets on the floor by the table in their resumat, or kitchen.

"Mama and Papa are still out." "Kamas depos Gamas may umsa bekan." Myantay said as she placed the two baskets down, and went to her room. She lay down on her tamok. (Something like a bed, only the sides rise up, so when laying down, you cannot roll off.)

"Myantay. Myantay. Come to me." A voice called, just as Myantay was drifting off to sleep. The voice was soothing, a female voice. It seemed smooth, and soft. Myantay sat up in her bed. Kimuchy was the only one home, and it surely couldn’t be her voice, could it?

"Kimuchy! Was that you?" "Kimuchy! Sar timb laye?" Myantay called. Kimuchy only answered with a annoyed sigh. The voice didn’t come from her. Myantay was starting to think she imagined it. She laid back down on her tamok again, and tried to go to sleep.

"Myantay. I know you can hear me. Come to me. You are the chosen one. Come to me." Myantay did not call out to Kimuchy this time. She just closed her eyes and tried to ignore the voice.

"The chosen one. The chosen one. Come to me, Myantay." The voice wasn’t speaking Myantay’s language, but she could still understand it. She gave up ignoring it and simply listened to the strange voice. She wanted to follow it. She had to follow it.

"Listen closely to my voice. Listen to these words I speak. You must find me. Leave your tamok, your comfort. Leave it all, you will find something better. Adventure, danger, and a chance to be who you were born to be." Myantay surely needed adventure, she wanted danger. Was she meant for more than a simple life on Timosh? She must find out for sure. Myantay slipped out of her tamok, and out of her house. There was no voice. How was she supposed to know where to go? She sat on the ground and waited.

"Follow my voice. You shall see." It seemed to come from in front of Myantay. She stood up and ran to the direction. The voice didn’t come again for a long time. Myantay decided to fly, it was faster. How long should she go? Had she gone too far?

"Follow my voice." Came the voice again. It was still straight ahead of Myantay. She kept going. Every time she doubted, the voice came from in front of her. She couldn’t have to go straight for much longer! This seemed insane. Myanatay turned and looked behind her. Her house was gone. She hadn’t told anybody that she was leaving. There was nothing to do but keep going now. She flew on and on for what felt like hours, until the voice came again and told her to stop.

"It will not be long now. Rest, and wait. Sleep, when the sun disappears, and all is dark you will see a robed figure, clothed in white. Do not be afraid. The figure will tell you what to do." Then the voice was silent. Myantay was sure she couldn’t sleep. Everything was all too odd…too exciting. She was proved wrong she yawned. Myanatay hugged herself, laid down on the sandy ground, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

In her dream, she was running away from her house. Her mother, father and sister were by the door, yelling at her, telling her to get away from them. She ran faster, faster, tears forming in her eyes. She ran until the house was a speck on the horizon. Suddenly, Myantay stopped. A person, clothed in white, as the voice had talked about, hugged her. The person smoothed Myantay’s golden hair. Suddenly, the person vanished, and Myantay was all alone. A circle of fire formed on the ground, around her. It rose up higher than Myantay’s head, trapping her in. A black figure walked into the circle. Although the fire should have provided enough light to see the figure’s face, it was still shadowed in darkness. It came closer to Myantay, closer and closer. Suddenly it held up a knife and rose it above Myantay’s head. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Just as the knife was about to plunge into the Timoshin’s head, she awoke. Sweat trickled down her face.It was only a dream. It was only a dream. Myantay said to herself. Still, she hugged herself and nervously glanced around her.

The sun was gone. The dark surrounded Myantay, and she hugged her knees even tighter. Suddenly, she heard footsteps.

"Who’s there?" "Dran trewos?" She called out.

"It is I." The person clothed in a white robe stepped out in front of her. The same one as in her dream. "Stand upon your feet. I will show you what is next to come." Myantay followed the orders. As soon as she did so, the person waved a hand and a image appeared. It showed pictures of people in distress, on streets. Then it showed other people, saving the distressed ones. These were dressed in colorful outfits. Some could shoot out elements from their hands, while some had swords. Other variations of these powers seemed limitless. Myantay watched in wonder.

"You were destined to be one of these. A hero, a wonderful image to people in Paragon City. Although you are not the very best, you can become better with time, and experience."

"How am I to become a hero? I have no powers! I have no way to get to Paragon City." Both were speaking in a sort of language different from Myantay’s normal one. She had no idea how she spoke it, but it seemed she couldn’t speak in her home language.

"You don’t have powersyet." Said the person. "And you do not need to know how to get to Paragon City. You are going just the same." With the wave of the hand, the image of the heros disappeared. Another wave, and a glowing white sphere came into sight.

"Don’t be afraid, follow me." "Sha may’lin, layie. Yad or’kan mayontoe." The person said. She was speaking in Myantay’s home language. She stepped into the sphere, and disappeared. Myantay followed, fear wouldn’t get the best of her, she was determined it wouldn’t.

In the sphere, Myantay felt something wrap around her, tightly. It was like a big blanket was trapping her inside. She couldn’t move, and it was hard to breathe. Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours. Suddenly, the tight feeling slipped away, and Myantay was along in a white, blank, empty space. No walls, no floors no ceilings surrounded her. Where was she? Suddenly, Myantay felt stronger, and unlike herself. She pinched herself, maybe she was dreaming again. Her skin felt a bit tougher, but it was still smooth like normal skin. This was odd. Extremely odd.

Then, Myantay felt the realm around her shaking, and she was thrown onto hard, concrete ground. Looking around, she saw strange civilians, staring at her, and then a face pushed them away.

"Hi!" Said the face. "My name’s SweetHeart.! Are you okay?"
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