Author's note: I'm really out of it, so if this makes no sense...I'm sorry. =(

Untitled
By Mari

The South Pole has always been, and will always be, a foreboding place. It’s freezing, for one thing, and its pitch dark for a whole half of the year. Although the people there are some of the friendliest you’ll ever meet, the land seems to want you gone. Every tourist I’ve met has told me that they’ve loved it here, really. They’re just never coming back.

I had my own theories about my home. Some said that it was aligned with the stars in mysterious ways, but I disagreed. Underneath all the snow and rock laid some deeply rooted history that will be there forever. Unless someone rooted it out and casted it off, of course, but that would have been a shame. History was in all of our hearts, there at the Pole.

I often wondered what happened in early years though, like way back in 2010. Whenever I mentioned that year, adults would shudder and shush me. I’d heard rumors that the earth shook so hard, that Vinson Massif was shifted to rest exactly on top of the Pole. But that was silly, seeing as it was a huge mountain…and besides, where would it have been before? Our whole continent would have had to shift for that to happen. I’d also heard that Massif was really a volcano and that it had erupted violently, covering the land around it for miles. But that was preposterous also, seeing as my people were still there, and still are. I thought I’d find out on my reise to the beastly mountain. I would be fifteen on that day, and would also be ready to discover my island as it really was. I wasn’t a true native, of course, but my people were the next closest thing. The land had accepted my people, and it was said that at 15 it was time for it to accept me as well. Otherwise, they said, I would have been ‘cast out among the rocks of pity, shattered by the whips of time’, as the old rhyme went. It really meant that I would be shipped to the awful ‘Main Land’, Chinarica. Yes, I remember thinking that my trip would give me all the answers…and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I’ll never forget the day that I set out, supplies strapped to my back and villagers waving good luck to me. It was the odd time between the winter and summer months when the light was weak and everything seemed a bit less real than usual. My journey began at the base of the ugly mountain’s Northern side. I already missed my warm fireplace at home, and my roommates that I would huddle around it with. Shaking my head against the inviting thoughts of home, I concentrated on my path. I was to hike up around the smallest part of the range and find Creek. Then, I would climb straight to the central part of Massif and stay in one of its many caves until I had figured out whatever it was I was trying to do. Then, I had my mission cut out for me; some people came back saying they were destined for great things, and others had minor roles to play. I had no idea what I’d find, but I was excited.

I rushed my way through the first part of the trail, anxious to meet Creek. He was an ageless guide whose destiny was to help the travelers passing by him. After what seemed like an eternity of stumbling around the lifeless crater where his home was, I finally spotted the smoke from his fire. I ran to the door and practically knocked it down, desperate for warmth. It took me a few seconds to take the whole room in. I was standing in the doorway of a huge living area, designed in a classy way that made me think of Mainland technology. I glanced around and finally saw Creek. He was much younger than I expected-he looked only a year older than me. He had glistening grey eyes that resembled the ice in the winter, and hair a dark brown that I had never seen before. These features popped even more against his purely white skin. It was like soft snow; my first instinct was to shy away so as not to get cold. He was different, yes…but what really caught my attention was behind him. Stretching out past his broad shoulders was a pair of wings that seemed to catch the light of the room and suck it in for themselves. They were the same brown as his hair, except for the tips which were icy white. He smiled benevolently at me.

“Hello, Clairi.” I couldn’t speak for astonishment, so I sat down on a conveniently placed chair behind me. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” Creek laughed like water trickling down the glacier, starting soft but roaring by the end.

“I…you…wings?” I managed to stutter out, probably sounding like a total idiot. I felt heavy and awkwardly overdone in comparison to his subtle beauty and grace. He pulled my chair over to the fireplace easily, even with me in it, and then sat down himself.

“Yes. I don’t always show the travelers these things, but you’re going to need more help than usual.” He grinned, baring straight and pearly teeth. I was still at a loss for words, and my mouth was becoming dry from the heat of the room. I said nothing, afraid that my voice would crack or something. Instead, I turned away and put my hands near the fire, trying to get warm enough to go out again. It was too crazy for me then…I planned on getting directions and then storming out as soon as possible. But when I turned to the blazing heat, I saw his delicate features instead. “Come on, Clairi. I can help you with your trip. And besides, I can also tell you everything you’ve been curious about for all these years. None of the others have been so inquisitive.” His gray eyes melted me as the fire crackled behind him, both making me woozy and feeling safe.

“Well, well alright. But make it quick, I have to leave by six tomorrow.” I glanced at my watch and saw that it was already eight PM, and I was off schedule by an hour. But somehow that didn’t matter, because here was Creek, telling me the ancient past of my people, and of my land. He started as far back as he knew, in 2009.

I may have breathed once that whole night. Creek’s story had me up on my haunches at the edge of the chair, and then slouched back as a calm part came. The whole story fit so well! There were parts, yes, that may have been errors on his part…I sort of doubted that the World used to be broken into thousands of parts called ‘countries’, but it was a long time ago. I couldn’t blame him for minor errors. He made up for it by being a magnificent story teller, beating his wings and declaiming to an invisible crowd. At one point, he became so wrapped up in a telling of the giant ‘plane’ that he actually took off and soared around the room, pretending to terrorize the Pole.

Too soon though, he was done. It was four in the morning and I hadn’t slept at all, too enraptured to stop listening. My head drooping, I smiled dizzily as he threw pretty herbs into the fire, making the room smell like the plains in summer, covered with simple but purposeful flowers. I looked up at him to see his wings held high above his head, chuckling hard. It boiled over into a full belly laugh. I was confused-was he laughing at me? - but I grinned at him one last time before my head spun into unconsciousness.

I woke up to a frozen hell. Groaning, I looked around for Creek’s home, but I saw nothing. I couldn’t even see my own feet through the blizzard that was already pushing me down, down, into the snow and ice packs. I sighed and let it push; there was no chance for me in a storm like this. I heard a lone howl of the wind…it sounded eerily like Creek, but that was impossible. I was up to my collarbone in snow before I saw a darker spot on the mountain. I knew I had to be somewhere near the First Base, near the middle of the mountain. It was shaped like a bowl, with peaks all around it…perfect for hiding from snowstorms.

Suddenly, reality hit me. First Base didn’t get snowstorms! It must have been a trap of some sort. Either the snow was fake, or someone was directing it to where I was. It would have been the perfect trap, too. I couldn’t have escaped because the usually sheltering peaks would pin me into the ‘bowl’ of the Base. I started to panic. Creek’s voice bounded across the Base and shook me by the shoulders like an angry parent. I looked up to see exactly how bad the storm was…but saw no storm at all. Instead, I saw dirty brown wings pumping snow all across the barren land. They were bigger than I remembered, blocking out all the sun and even absorbing reflections off the ice. In the darker light, his face gained a knife-like edge, and his eyes were more coal then dripping gray. He looked down at my surprised face with methodical, planned eyes. They were cold and stiff, unlike the smoldering ones that had oozed me into oblivion the night before.

“Sorry, little girl…I had a bit too much to drink last night, before you got to my home. I told you the whole story, didn’t I? And we can’t have you knowing that, can we?” He beat his wings even harder, sending me into the snow almost over my chin. I gasped pleas and begged to him, but he covered me with the cold relentlessly. My nose was almost covered, and I tried to dig a pocket of air furiously. My muscles felt like noodles, and they scraped helplessly at the packed, hard snow. Creek grinned at my struggling form, too far away to help me even if he had wanted too, now. “Now now, Clairi. You won’t be exercising too much after those fumes you breathed in last night.” I groaned as I thought of the malicious herbs he had thrown in the fireplace. They must have been some sort of drug. He laughed one last time, so cruelly that I wanted to dive under the snow to avoid it, and then flew off. The last snow fell, and I was trapped.

Somehow, I was alive. I was in a smaller room this time, and my chair was more soft and comfortable. I scanned the room for Creek, and spotted him leaning against a bookcase across the room. He looked younger, my age, but he had the same features. The only difference was that his skin was now a deep tan, and his wings buttery and golden.

No matter the change in appearance, I was pissed off at this Creek person! I rushed at him and punched him square in the nose. He winced a tiny bit, but I watched as his nose pushed itself firmly back into place. I watched, interested, but not really shocked. I figured I was dead, there was no other explanation. Creek grimaced at me.

“You know,” he said. “Just because I can heal doesn’t mean I like it.” He rubbed his nose sullenly. Catching a glance at my haughty face, he rolled his eyes. “I bet you think I’m the same person who tried to kill you, huh?” I just nodded, not caring enough to explain. What was the point, if I was dead or dying anyways? The young man groaned and motioned to a seat neat the fireplace. Being a bit less naive, I chose a different one near the door.

“You…you tried to suffocate me under the snow, you drugged me, you tricked me, and I think that you owe me a huge explanation.” My voice burst all at once, trying to name all his bad deeds and maybe even get some answers.

“Oh come on.” He said, “It’s not like you were in any danger, now, were you?” His wings twitched proudly, as if he had the biggest secret in the world.

“What the hell do you mean, I wasn’t in any danger? I could have died on the Base! And how did I get here?” I was practically yelling, and off my chair now. My legs were taking me in paces around his humble room.

He looked bemused at my worrying. “Well, I took you here of course. You really thought you were dying, got scared, and blacked out.”

"I don't think we should argue about this.” I glared at him hard, and felt him cringe back a little. Triumphant, I continued, “I think that you should either explain, or let me go. Right now.” I paced faster, nearly knocking over his woodpile. He gave me a worried look, and tried to speak several times before anything came out.

“Clairi…you’re ageless. It’s your destiny!” He smiled benevolently at me, nearly perfect teeth gleaming. I stood up and punched him again, right in the gut. He grimaced again, but didn’t bend over. “Well,” he said. “Looks like we have a lot of catching up to do. But don’t worry…we have all the time in the world."