Young Writers Society

Dark clouds covered the sun, casting the world into a gray mood. Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder boomed out a warning. It began to rain, starting as a light sprinkle and soon turning into a downpour. Below a small town suffered underneath the onslaught. Any foolish enough to ignore the warning boom rushed about to get to safety before they were washed away in the merciless rain. Cars drove slowly, windshield wipers working over-time to clear away the water.

At the edge of town, a good two miles away from any major buildings and homes, there was a large junk yard. Trash lay carefully sorted into seperate piles. A lone rat poked his snout out of a large pile of household trash, a piece of old food in his mouth. He scurried across the clear ground, braving the storm to get to a safer shelter. His fur was plastered to his thin, little body and he stumbled along, nearly blind in the torrent of water that came rushing down on his head. He took momentary relief under an up turned table, and, protected from the worst, he panted and leaned against the bottom of a body-length mirror.

Suddenly, the glass started to grow warm and the little rat squeaked with fright as it took on a yellow glow. He dropped his food and raced away, not willing to stay and see what happened. The mirror glowed brighter and a hand reached through the glass. It pushed away the table in front and disappeared back into the light only to reappear a moment later. It grasped the edge and out stepped a young man dragging an even younger woman with him. The woman sobbed and collapsed to the ground, holding her bundle close to her body. She looked up at the man through tear filled eyes and screamed at him.

"We left her! We left her behind! Go back, go back now, before the portal closes and drag her through!"

As if on cue, the mirror's light pulsed and then faded. The woman screamed again, and buried her face in the bundle, crying hard. The young man looked down with pity in his eyes and moved to comfort her, but she pulled away and turned her back on him. He paused, looking hurt, but laid a hand on her back. She stiffened, but didn't pull away this time.

She expected to hear words of comfort and was immediately ready to shoot them down, but instead, he only said, "We need to get out of this rain. We're going to drown."

Surprised, she turned and looked into his eyes, seeing for the first time the hurt that lay within in his soul. Like her, he had done the exact opposite of anything he had ever been trained to do. And he was probably hurting worse than she. The woman's eyes softened in understanding and she nodded. Holding her bundle close to her body, she stood and started to walk, but hesitated, looking back at the mirror. As if reading her mind, the young man picked up the mirror, grunting at the exertion and then lead her to a small shed. Kicking open the door, he laid the mirror inside and motioned her to follow. She did so gratefully and sunk to the floor. The young man looked down at her bundle.

"Is the child all right?"

Pulling back the blanket, the woman peered down at the small infant in her hands. She was sleeping peacefully, a tiny smile on her face as she dreamed. The woman looked up and nodded.

"Yes. She may be a little cold and hungry in a while, but we'll deal with that when the time comes."

The young man nodded and stared out a little window into the storm. The woman looked up her companion. Drops of rain rolled down his leather tunic and dripped on the floor. His white shirt and black breeches were soaked with water and his face was ragged and tired. She knew that she had probably fared no different. Her own clothes were soaked and clung to her like a second skin, but she ignored it, unable to do anything about it.

They stared out the window together, sitting in awkward silence. Finally, the woman put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He looked up, surprised. "For what?"

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was scared and angry, but I was wrong," she said. "I know you did everything you could possibly have done."

The young man looked back out into the storm. Clearly he wasn't convinced. The woman tried again.

"You can't blame yourself. You know how stubborn she can be. And you also know that she had to stay. Besides, we must follow the orders she gave us, and you can't do that if you're pouting."

"I'm not pouting," he said, but he cracked into a smile.

Outside, the thunder boomed again, and the child awoke with a shrill cry. The woman turned to her charge and rocked her back and forth, slowly calming her and sending her back to sleep. The young man stood and looked down.

He watched the young woman for a moment. A soft expression flitted across his face before disappearing. The woman never saw it. He went to the door and opened it.

"Wait," the woman called, looking up, and he paused. "Do you have an idea which realm we're in?"

He looked out at the storm and then back at her. "No, not really. But I think she said something about earth when the portal opened."

"Earth?"

"Yes, earth."