The Obelisk

-Chapter 46-

Crimson slammed her eyes shut. It was all coming in. Too fast. Too fast. Too f a s t.

She thought leaving the swamp would help. But it wasn’t. This was a mistake.

The grief was flooding in.

She thought she’d forget.

But the memory was still clear as day as it sunk. Back. In.

***

The swamp used to cover half of Fjordur. It stretched and stretched form coast to coast, as far as the eye could see.

But at this time, the Swamp was much less. Now it was much smaller, each tree and sinkhole and muddy pond slowly being replaced with new territories as the land adapted.

Crimsons home was in the biggest Swamp left, right by Runheimr. It was beautiful.

Her home was a a small burrow dug in the dryer part of the swamp, it’s roof and walls made of reeds and sticks and a few branches weaved together, forming a house strong enough to keep the water out but let light in.

The only way in or out of the burrow was a small hole you had to dive into—which led straight to an underwater tunnel that led outside.

It wasn’t much. But Crimson grew up there.

The sun was about an hour before setting, and Crimson was inside, getting her little mud pool ready to sleep in.

Her mother scooped her up in her arms, and Crimson laughed. They nuzzled snouts and and Father entered with a splash from the entrance, shaking water off his scales.

Mother started singing. Crimson loved singing. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”

“You make me happy,” Father continued, “when skies are grey…”

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you…”

Crimson finished. “Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Her and mother booped noses, and Crimson began the next line. “The other night dear, while I lay sleeping…”

“I dreamed I held you, in my arms,” Mother filled in. “And now we’re here dear, and you are with me…”

“So I sing this song to you,” father sang.

They sung together. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Crimson snuggled into her mother happily, and reached out for her Father. He gladly joined in the hug.

“So… Crimson…” Father said after a moment.

“What?” Crimson asked.

“You know how ever night before sunset, me and her go out hunting, and come back before bed with your dinner?”

“Yeah,” Crimson said slowly.

“We were thinking, that maybe… this time you could come with us.” Father said.

Crimson gasped. “Really? Honestly? You’re not talking a bunch of bull—“

“Language,” Mother warned.

“Sorry. You’re not talking a bunch of bull-dung?” Crimson whispered loudly.

“One hundred percent the truth,” Said Father. “We’ll go now.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I’m going HUNTING!” Crimson cried. “Let’s go! Wait—is anyone coming with us?”

“Nope,” said Mother.

Father nodded. “Just me, you, and your moth—”

There was a sudden boom from outside the burrow. Mother and Father snapped their heads up.

Another boom sounded, followed by another, and then there was a yell, and suddenly—something small and shiny burst through the roof.

It looked like a lime, green and oval shaped—only it was metallic and different somehow.

“What is that—” Crimson had barely enough time to finding the sentence as it bounced acrossed the floor and by Crimsons talons, and beeped, beeped, beeped, right to the last second.

Fathers eyes widened. “Get in the water!”

“CRIMSON!!” Mother screamed, her and Father leaping forward.

At the last second, both Mother and father jump and shoved her back, right into the entrance tunnel. She sunk into the water.

B O O M. The sound was muffled from underwater. A few seconds later, Crimson regained her strength and swamp up to the surface.

She climbed out, gasping for breath.

Then she looked up.

Her home was gone. The whole section of her swamp—it was destroyed. Fire clung to anything dry— creature fleed in all directions.

Red liquid stained everything around her. Her parents were nowhere to be seen.

Crimson didn’t speak. Her eyes slowly moved acrossed the landscape, staring.

She stood in place, the water dripping off her scales, blotting the red marks in the mud.

“Mom?” Crimson called. “Dad?”

To be continued