Alright story number two!  This one is quite recent, wrote in back in the Spring for a Creative Writing Class.  It's more fantasy oriented, which I like best!  Also a note about stories.  They were written by me and edited by me, I'm not good with grammar, so if you see something grammar wise just ignore it.  I need to find a good editor to fix my grammar, but haven't got the chance to. Oh and also the names in the story are Celtic, thats why they are spelled weird.

A Storm of Wind and Ice

Matt Bennett

The sky was filled with clouds, but they were not dark clouds. They were a light gray, letting some of sunlight through but not much. The wind blew across the green hills on this early January morning and swept right through Geamhradh's cloak. It was cold, colder than most winters Geamhradh could remember but it didn't bother him any. He enjoyed the cold, it made him feel alive and free.

Geamhradh was a young man of nineteen, average height and weight. He had brown hair and a full bread that covered his face but did not hang past his chin. The green hills he was standing on was a part of his fathers land in Kerry Ireland. His father, Daearen, owned a large stock of sheep and was one of the most well known shepherds in the County. Daearen meant earth in the language of the land.

The flock of sheep were standing around eating the grass, and Geamhradh was sitting on a near by rock watching the sky. He loved the country he lived in, it was so luscious and green, it was pure beauty. While he was sitting there with the wind flowing through his cloak, he heard a voice from behind him.

“Geamhradh.”

He turned to see nothing but more beautiful green hills. As he turned back he heard the voice again.

“Geamhradh.”

He whipped around and responded.

“Father, is that you?”

There was no response. Geamhradh turned toward his sheep again and heard the voice a third time.

“Geamhradh!”

This time he stood up and turned around to see a dark figure floating behind him. The figure was clad in a black cloak and there was no face inside the hood. Darkness flowed from this mysterious figure and covered the land. Geamhradh immediately pulled out his knife he had tucked under his cloak. The figure moved his bony hand and the knife flew from Geamhradh's grip. It then spoke to him in a voice that sounded like death itself.

“No need for such foolishness young one. I am not here to harm you. That is unless you disappoint me in someway. Anyway I am here to offer you a contract.”

“What kind of contract, and why should I trust such a dark being?”

“Pardon me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Bas, I come from darkness and am a part of darkness itself. I am here to offer you a contract as I said before. Darkness is about to take this land and swallow it whole, killing everybody and everything in it's path. Once all the meaningless is destroyed it will reform this land. The new darker land will need a leader, and I am offering this position to you.”

“Why do you think I would want any part of destroying this land? I love this land with my whole heart and soul.”

“Geamhradh, do you know the meaning of your name?”

“No, I do not.”

“Geamhradh means winter in the Celtic language. This is why you love the cold and the winter. You have a coldness in your heart that would be quite useful to our kind. Sadly all the warmth and love of this land has ruined your heart, but I believe that if you were to bring out your true self your cold heart would emerge.”

“Your crazy Bas! I would never join you and your darkness!”

“We shall see about that young one!”

Bas moved his bony hand again and lifted Geamhradh off the ground, and began to suck some of the life from him. As Geamhradh was struggling to get free a voice rang out from the bottom of the hill the two were standing on.

“Geamhradh! Where are you? Daearen said you were out with the sheep.”

Bas let Geamhradh fall. He twirled his black cloak toward the voice.

“Who is this that calls to you?”

“That is Gra, she is a good friend of mine.”

“Good friend? Hahaha! I can see in those eyes that you see her more than that. I have to leave due to this interruption but I am not finished with you yet. You are lucky your little friend stopped me from taking your soul. I shall give you a second chance and time to think of what I have offered. I must go now.”

Bas disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke. As soon as the smoke faded Gra had reached the top of the hill.

“There you are! I ran all over the hills looking for you. Anyway, how have you been?”

“I, uh, have been doing well.”

“Geamhradh, whats the matter?”

“Nothing for you to worry about. Now what did you want from me?”

“I just wanted to see you, maybe take a walk to the Cliffs of Donmire?”

“Actually that sound wonderful.”

Gra grabbed Geamhradh's hand and they walked down the hillside. These two have known each other for three years now and have grown a good relationship. They headed down the path that led to Donmire Cliffs. Geamhradh stopped and held both Gra's hands in his.

“Gra, we've known each other for sometime now. I really care about you a lot and would do anything for you. I'm not sure if you really know it, or if you feel the same way but...I love you.”

Gra's eyes sparkled and she let loose a beautiful smile.

“I have been waiting forever for you to tell me that! I have always felt the same way but was too afraid to mention it. Geamhradh you have made me so happy now!”

Gra grabbed Geamhradh's hand tighter and ran down the trail to the cliffs. They stopped at the edge where a bench Daearen had made sat. They sat down and looked out at the ocean. The sun was setting over the calm water and the sky was a hundred different colors. Gra leaned in and kissed Geamhradh. After the kiss both of them smiled and finished watching the sun set over the ocean. After it was dark Gra looked over at Geamhradh and smiled.

“I have never been so happy in my life, I don't want to leave! This is just great I could...”

She was interrupted by a hiss and black smoke. There floating over the cliff was Bas. Gra screamed and tried to run but Bas raised his hand and in a second she was floating there with him. Bas looked at Geamhradh and spoke.

“This thing is clogging your thoughts on our contract. Only one way to fix that.”

Bas faced Gra so that her eyes looked into that faceless dark pit in the hood of his cloak. She did not scream but only had a look of pure fear on her face. After a few seconds the life had been taken from her. Bas threw her on the ground next to Geamhradh. Geamhradh ran to her screaming her name. The one woman he loved was dead and lifeless. Bas floated next to Gra's body.

“There is only one way to cure your friend. Embrace the wintery heart that is inside of you and join me in the destruction of this land.”

“I will never join you! This land is mine, and you have already taken one thing I love. I will not bring her back into a world of darkness. You will pay for this Bas! I will never let you live after this.”

“Is this your choice foolish boy?”

“Yes, yes it is! I will not let you take my land. I will do everything in my power to stop you.”

“Then that is how it will be, I shall not deal with you right now. The time has come for me to begin the dark overtaking. I will deal with you later. I do not believe you will stick to this though. I can feel that cold heart coming out in your hatred for me. Embrace it, and take it in. Your wintery heart is the only thing that will give you enough strength to do anything. Do what you must do I have to go.”

The darkness swallowed Bas and he was gone. Geamhradh walked over and picked up Gra's body. He carried her down the trail and back to the cottage his father and him built. As he approached the cottage Daearen came running up.

“Geamhradh what happened?”

“Father, Gra is dead. There is a darkness that is about to cover the land, and I have to stop it in some way.”

Daearen looked at Geamhradh and motioned him inside the cottage. They laid Gra on the couch and then they sat at the table. Daearen began to unfold secrets that Geamhradh could never imagine.

“Son, you are not technically our son. We found you one winter nineteen years ago on a snowy mountaintop. We named you Geamhradh because of where we found you. Somehow you had survived the frigid weather and piercing wind. Your mother and I could not understand how an infant could last two minutes in that weather. We took you in and raised you as our own. You were never a normal child. The cold never bothered you and you never wore any warm clothing. When your mother passed she told me to keep an eye on you, she was afraid that whatever was inside you would one day come out. She was not sure if it was good or evil, but either way she still loved you. I think something is happening now, that darkness that is coming is bringing out what has laid dormant for years. I see no evil in it but if you used it the wrong way it could end that way. Always remember that hatred will never win. Once you learn to conquer the cold you have inside you, you will be able to use it for good.”

Geamhradh sat and stared at his father for a second, not sure what to think. He then got up and walked outside. As he walked out the sky was becoming darker and black clouds rolled in from the North. He knew that the darkness had already started. This had to be stopped, this land meant to much to him. He did not know what was inside him but he was willing to use it to destroy Bas and get revenge for Gra.

Daearen motioned Geamhradh towards the back of the cottage. Daearen leaned down and stuck his hand under a huge boulder. He pulled out a white sword, the hilt had snowflakes and vines etched into it. It gleamed in what little light was left, and was as white as fresh snowfall.

“We found this next to you when you were an infant on the mountaintop. Take it, it is yours, use it to save this land and Gra.”

Geamhradh took the sword and felt a coldness go down his spine. He turned toward the North and began to walk toward the center of the darkness. As he was heading up the hill and out of sight, Daearen shouted to him.

“Remember, hated will never win. Do not let the ice inside of you become dark!”

Geamhradh marched up the hill, sword in hand. Snow began to fall, and the higher Geamhradh went the thicker the snowfall became. The wind was blowing at a very high speed making the snow blow into his face making it hard to see. Geamhradh marched on up the hill as if the blizzard had no affect on him. Then a voice rang out from the sky, sounding of death.

“You are strong in the cold Geamhradh, but you are only a Shepard you could not handle any form of battle. Take him dark souls!”

Many figures began to form from the dark blizzard. They were skeletal figures of humans, humans who had died long ago, hearts filled with hatred. Geamhradh lifted his sword to fight, rage filling him. He slashed through the dark souls one after the other as if slicing butter. Bas did not like this so he increased the number of souls. Soon Geamhradh was fighting fifty dark souls at one time. He began to struggle, his endurance could not last this bombardment much longer. Yet he kept destroying each dark soul with his white sword. The souls kept coming and soon Geamhradh was down on one knee fighting with the last of his strength. He looked to the sky and yelled at Bas.

“You coward! You hide behind these dark souls because you know who I am and are afraid of me. Send these souls off and fight me and show that you are not a coward!”

The souls vanished in a dark mist. Geamhradh topped the hill, and when he reached the top he was taken to another place outside of his land. He was in a ruined place, a dark place. The trees were dead, grass did not exist. The most disturbing thing was the snow, it fell in large black flakes.

Ahead of Geamhradh was the cloaked figure of Bas. He floated above the grass-less ground and laughed.

“Hahaha! This is what your land will become once I am finished. You have not agreed to the contract so there fore this can not be yours. I must kill you now.”

Bas raised his hand and Geamhradh was lifted off the ground. Bas was about to take the life from Geamhradh when a giant white flash came from the white sword. Bas was thrown back and Geamhradh landed on his feet. He held his sword high and white snow swirled around him in a chaotic wind. His true power had been unleashed. Geamhradh ran toward Bas, his sword raised to strike. Bas saw the attack coming and dodged it. This frustrated Geamhradh, so he lunged again and again missing each time. After the third try Geamhradh let out a yell that could freeze blood. The snowy swirl had turned into a blizzard or wind and ice. He was barely visible under the mass of wintery might. A leap into the air he aimed his sword for Bas' head. He landed with and icy explosion and stood up grinning in victory. Once the air had cleared he noticed the spot he had hit was empty. He whirled around to see Bas behind him laughing.

“Very good Geamhradh! You are embracing your Ice Lord power with hate. You may end up joining us anyway.”

“Ice Lord?”

“Yes, you are an Ice Lord. Your real parents died fighting me. I left you alive to save for later. Ice Lords are people who come from the mountains. They live in conditions no one else could, and because of that they developed a very strong wintery power. That is the power you now have unleashed.”

“I...I'm an Ice Lord?”

“The last of your kind. Now join me, you can not defeat me no matter how strong you are.”

“I will never join you, I will destroy you!”

“Fine then, I will actually kill you this time.”

Bas came floating toward Geamhradh at a very high speed. Geamhradh, thinking back to what his father had told him, stood motionless. Bas stretched out his hand at the last second and pierced Geamhradh's abdomen.

“I am very sorry to see you leave this world, I could have really used you.”

“I...am...not...done with you yet!”

Geamhradh had frozen Bas' hand when it entered his body, making it impossible for Bas to remove his hand. Bas was now in a very vulnerable position. Geamhradh took his white sword and ran it through Bas' cloak, and a flash of white light exploded from the dark cloak. Bas fell to the ground and faced up toward Geamhradh.

“You...you have destroyed me. You can not destroy me for I am darkness itself!”

“I, Geamhradh, Ice Lord, have destroyed the darkness with my icy might. Go now darkness and never taint this land again!”

Bas faded into a dark mist, and the world around Geamhradh faded as well. He was back on the hilltop and a beautiful white snow was falling. He remembered his father and Gra, and ran back to the cottage. Daearen was standing in the doorway smiling.

“I do not know what you did, but you did it! I could never be prouder in my life. You are the bravest, strongest, and mightiest man in this land. Now, come in there is someone to see you.”

Before Geamhradh could come in, Gra peeked out the door. In a happy excitement Geamhradh ran up and picked up Gra and swung her around laughing.

“Your alive! I thought I had lost you. Gra, I love you. I hope you will always know that, and I will never let anything happen to you again.”

“Geamhradh I love you too!”

Somehow when the darkness had left, it lifted the evil out of Gra's body and brought her back to life. She kissed him and they both turned to look at Daearen. He smiled and asked Geamhradh how he had defeated the darkness.

“Father I learned that sometimes we have to put away our hatred and let things come at us. When we think we are defeated is when what we hate is most vulnerable. I have destroyed the evil chill inside of me and embraced the light. I am an Ice Lord and will never again let darkness take this land or any land.”

Geamhradh, Gra, and Daearen lived happy lives after this event. Any darkness that tried to take the land was swiftly stopped by the Ice Lord of Kerry Ireland. The storm of wind and ice would never haunt the earth as it had before, and all people lived in light.

My First Story for the Blog

Here is my most popular story, it's a few years old...not recent.  It's probably my favorite too. 

Time in a Graveyard

             It was a cool spring day as I walked into Mt. Emerson Graveyard, the birds were chirping and the sun was out, but it was not too hot. The monuments were huge, some were small, but the majority of them were very big and decorative. I found a little bench that sat under a tree. I sat there and just looked around, some people think it’s strange that I go and sit in graveyards just to sit there, but I find them very peaceful and a great place to think. They are not very scary to my mind, just peaceful.

As I was sitting there I noticed a small undecorated grave beside me, the name said Robert Bower, 1841 to 1863. It was one of those stones that were level with the ground; he had no fancy monument, just a flat stone with his name and dates. I felt sorry for the man, the grass had grown over the corners, and his stone was a little dirty. It was like a forgotten grave. I started to talk to him, tell him I would come and fix his grave next time and that I will not leave him forgotten.

Then I turned my head because I heard a sound, when I turned back there was a man standing on the grave. He was tall and thin, wearing a grey uniform. He had brown hair and a small mustache. I sat there and stared at him for a minute, he could not have gotten there so quickly I only turned my head for a second. His cloths looked like they were a civil war uniform, probably Confederate. He walked over to a big monument across the path in front of my bench. As he was walking I took another look at his grave, then I noticed the date, he was in the war. Then that man must be Robert. I looked across the path and saw him with a woman, she had black curly hair, was average height and weight. She was wearing a big fancy dress, probably from the same time period. They started to dance, it looked like ballroom dancing, but I heard no music. That’s when the music hit me; it was all around as if there was a small band playing right next to me. They danced for a long time, and then the music stopped. They looked into each others eyes and her eyes sparkled, then she disappeared and so did Robert. I looked next to me and there was Robert, looking toward the spot where the dancing went on. He seemed to be depressed and had his head hanging low, and then he just sunk into the ground. I sat there staring into space amazed by what I just saw. I got up to leave, but before I left I walked over to the woman’s grave and saw the name and date. Elliot Marian, 1840 to 1863.

I decided to come back the next day to see if anything would happen. I sat in the same spot for almost an hour, and nothing happened. I got up to leave, and there was Robert right in front of me. He had that sad look on his face again; he turned his head down the path and started to walk that way. I followed, interested in where he was going, and then he disappeared into nothing. I ran to the spot where he left and then the graveyard around me changed. I was now outside a big house, it looked like a plantation house. Robert was on the porch sitting on a bench; Elliot came out with another guy. This guy was wearing a blue uniform and was very muscular. He was probably a union solider because of the blue, and Robert was wearing grey. This man saw Robert, and pushed aside Elliot and started to yell at Robert, a few punches were thrown, and then he threw Robert off the porch and spat at the ground. Elliot was in the corner with a concerned look on her face, then the man took her hand and they walked down the steps and into a waiting carriage. The carriage went down the dirt road and dust was kicked up into Robert’s face. He looked upset, and just as I was wondering why he was even there, he pulled flowers out from under the porch. He dropped them on the porch in front of the door and left. Then all of a sudden time changed and there was Elliot getting out of the carriage and walking up the steps. She stopped at the door and picked up the flowers, wondering where they came from and walked in.

Everything vanished and I was back in the graveyard. Robert was not there either. I was beginning to wonder why all this was happening. I’ve been here before, but nothing like this ever happened. It all started when I noticed Robert’s grave, was I meant to see this and maybe fix something? I was not sure, but I was going to come back every day until I figured this out.

The next day I was there in the graveyard again, sitting on that same bench, waiting. Then after an hour there was Robert. He looked at me and started to run, he ran past his grave and up a hill. I followed him and then at the top of the hill everything changed again. This time I was in the middle of a civil war battle. Robert was rushing toward the union line. I noticed it was a Confederate charge. The union was shooting at them, bullets whizzed past my head and there was smoke everywhere. I ran to catch up to Robert seeing men fall beside me, when I did get up to where Robert was at, he got shot in the left shoulder and fell to the ground bleeding. I ran over to help, but my hands went right through him. I just watched as he laid there screaming in pain and blood all over his uniform. Then everything disappeared and I was on the hill in the graveyard. I stood there a while stuck with horror at what I saw, and then I just left.

It took a lot of debating to coming back the next day, but I decided to anyway. This time I stood on the hill, and after ten minutes, things changed and I was at that house again. Robert was on the porch, there was blood on the wood panels, and a piece of cloth was on his shoulder. Robert was alive. Elliot came out, it was a sunny day, and her curly hair shined in the light, even though it was black. She started to give Robert water when that union soldier from last time came out and kicked the glass of water to the ground. He yelled at Elliot then kicked wounded Robert. I could not hear any words, but what I got from the scene was that Elliot tried to help wounded Robert, but the man would not allow her to help an enemy. The man grabbed Robert and pushed him down the steps. Robert fell with a yell and lay on the ground holding his shoulder wound. The man spat on him and walked back in the house, yelling at Elliot. Elliot jumped up and followed. Then the change happened again. I did not want to wait another day, I wanted to see more. I wandered the graveyard hoping to see something else. Then at a big monument it happened. I was at a Confederate camp, and there was Robert sitting on a tree stump writing. I walked behind him and noticed it was a letter to Elliot, or more like a poem. I read what he wrote, when he finished I noticed that he was very good at poetry. Then he walked over and picked a few flowers with a sigh. He waxed the flowers to the letter so they would stay together, then he stared at the package with that sad look. I could tell what he was thinking. He was wondering why he was even trying.

Then things changed, but not to the graveyard. I was in a garden behind the house I’ve been to many times before. Robert was walking though this garden, trying not to be seen, when he runs into Elliot. They both look surprised, and then he starts to babble, she laughs, and he hands her the package. She smiles and reads the poem, as she read her smile left and I noticed tears on her face. When she was finished she smiled again tears rolling and gives him a huge hug. They hugged for a while, her hair waving in the wind and his jacket ruffling from the wind. I was back in the graveyard. I had a feeling this was almost over, so I had to come back the next day.

I came back, and as soon as I stepped into the gates the graveyard was gone, I was in the garden again. Robert was with Elliot and they were in a swing talking, flowers all around them in bright colors, that told me some time has passed, yesterday the flowers were only buds. As I was watching them I noticed something in the house, the man was standing in a window watching them. I looked back and Elliot was crying, Robert was trying to comfort her. What I got was that Robert was going to go into battle the next day, and Elliot was scared.

I was now in a battlefield. Robert was shooting down on union soldiers that were charging up a hill. I looked at the union side and saw the man from the house. He had an angry look on his face and was running faster than the rest of the soldiers. Robert noticed this, and started to load his gun. The man was now putting a bayonet on the front of his gun, charging up the hill yelling. Robert went to shoot but it was to late, the man ran him through with the bayonet. He pulled the bayonet out of Robert’s abdomen, with a smile then started to fight off other soldiers. Robert fell back holding his chest, with a lost look on his face. I then knew how Robert died.

Now I was at the house and saw Elliot receive the news from the man. She started to yell and cry, she hit the man and ran out of the house. She ran all the way to a nearby river and jumped in. The only other thing I saw was her hand floating down the river. Everything left and I was in front of Robert’s grave. I now knew the story of these two poor souls, but why was this showed to me, what was I supposed to do? Then I noticed it, the empty spot next to Elliot’s monument. I knew what to do.

I ran out of the graveyard and across the street to where the manager of the graveyard worked. I asked him if I could move the grave, and paid him a lot of my work pay. Then I went next door and bought a nice monument, which cost a lot also, but the cause was worth it. I came back a week later and walked to that bench. There across the path next to Elliot’s grave was a tall column with a point on top. The monument said on it:

“Robert Bower, 1841 - 1863. A man who died for his beliefs, and for Love. Who was forgotten but is now remembered and next to the only person who loved him. May he now rest in peace.”

I sat on the bench and smiled to myself, I helped a soul get what it needed. Then Robert was standing on the grave, he walked over to me and handed me a book, smiled and disappeared. I opened the book, and noticed it was a book of all the poems he wrote. I flipped though it, and at the end there was a little note.

“Thanks for helping me, it means a lot. Now Elliot and I are happy, I hope this book may help you in any future relationship you may have. Good lucky buddy.”

Robert Bower

The End