Could I join? For the writing bit?

Can I still keep mine in even though I didn't do the color or should I write another one that fits the burgandy as a color?

He sat in his hotel room, straightening his bowtie. The red tux was a suitable outfit for the Champagne Convention tonight.

"Sir, the briefcase arrived!" a muffled voice came from the door.

"Milky, don't call me sir. Just call me Burgundy. I'm only twenty-two!"

"Very well Burgundy W-"

"Don't call me Burgundy Wine either! I share a surname with like, sixty different alchoholic drink! Oh, whatever. I'm coming!"

Burgundy opened the door in his spacious room, and picked up a burgundy-red briefcase. The gold lettering on it read 'Leu Feuillet', marking it as one of their designs.

He ran a comb through his brown hair one more time, picked up the briefcase, and headed downstairs to the main level.

~~~

Elegantly dressed waiters milled around, pushing carts with plates on them, or draping tablecloths over tables.

The lighting of the resturaunt was so dim Burgundy could barely make out the forms of tables and other people. The dimmer the resturaunt, the more formal it is, he thought.

Burgundy sat down at a large round table with twelve chairs around it. A few other people had already arrived, but only three. There was a tall blonde man who was fully intoxicated, guffawing and randomly twitching. Whyte, the person who had Burgundy's surname, but absolutely no family relations.

Merlot was relaxing on a chair, her long dyed-purple hair curling around her shoulders. She seemed to be recovering from jet lag, as she had flown all the way from California. And then there was Pinot Noir, the head of the convention for the year. Nine more years until Burgundy was the head again. 

Pinot was an old man, with graying short-cropped hair, and wrinkles lining his face. He seemed to be the most sober of them all, except for Burgundy himself. He was sipping from a glass of his namesake, most of it spilling into a large wet spot on the tablecloth. Due to his arthiritis, things tended to spill and break around him.

Gradually, the table began to fill up with others - Chardonnay, Rose, Sauvignon, and a lot more. When they started dinner, there was only one person missing, someone who had never been invited anyway.

Dinner was three courses. Appetizers, entrees, and desserts. After Pinot Noir finished his tiramisu, he stood up. "We are here to discuss the new project, Sherry. Burgundy?" he said, acknowledging him.

Burgundy slid the briefcase across the table. "In here is the newest addition to the counsel, Sherry. She will be born eighteen, giving her enough time to learn."

He opened up the briefcase. Inside was a small box, with blinking lights and portruding attachments around its surface. "We can activate her now. I have the blueprints."

Burgundy handed a packet of papers to the nearest person, and they passed it around. When it had come back to Burgundy, Pinot Noir said, "Approved. How will you activate her?" 

"She is connected to me until twenty-two."

Burgundy opened up a panel inside his arm. It had a mass of blinking lights and buttons. He pressed a gray one, and the box came to life, unfolding into a woman.

The eleven council members stood up, and acknowledged the newest member, Sherry. 

In the state of Nashville there is a small town called RanDown. The name was no misnomer, for the town was indeed run-down. In fact, the structures was so dilapidated that if you touched the old house on Westward Lane, it might actually collapse. No one had lived in RanDown for quite some time, so when a young couple on a road trip decided to stop to change drivers, no one noticed except the Big Ol' Sun. The Sun winked as it went behind the mountains, turning the nearest clouds a melted butter golden. 

Enoch Thompson stretched his dark arms to the sky. So tall was he that he almost reached it. "Halfway there, Sweet Tea!"

Rachel Thompson laughed. Her laugh was big and loud, the kind that made you want to join in. "We'll be in Dallas tomorrow, my Latte!" Some couple bond over a sports team. Some couples bond over art. This couple had bonded over Sweet Tea and Lattes.

Enoch surveyed the area. He whistled. "This place is a mess. I bet no one's been here for ages."

Rachel tied her hair up in a ponytail. "Wanna look around?"

Enoch frowned. "I don't know. The buildings are pretty old. Might not be safe to walk in." 

Rachel was already walking toward a ramshackle house. "We don't have to go inside," she said, standing on her tiptoes to peer inside a window. The lingering light made her blonde head shine. Enoch joined her after a moment of hesitation. The glass was dark with grime. He pulled out a bandanna and spit on it, then used it to rub away at the dirt so the two could see. Inside, there were some wooden planks leaning against the wall, most broken and splintered. A two barrels stood in a corner as if it used to be a pleasant place to sit and talk for a while. It certainly was not a pleasant place to sit now. In the dim light, you could just make out a staircase leading upstairs. 

"Wow," said Rachel. "This place is in need of some serious cleaning." She moved on to another window and Enoch joined her. It was a room as filthy as the last. An old iron bed frame was the only furniture in sight. They turned a corner and walked until they came upon the door. Enoch twisted the doorknob. From this vantage point they could see a spot that was slightly cleaner, as if there had been something there that blocked the grime. Rachel stepped inside. 

"Rachel," called Enoch. "This doesn't look safe!" She didn't listen and continued on to the room with the bed frame. With an exasperated sigh, Enoch followed her, being careful of where he stepped. They came to the room with the planks and barrels. 

Rachel turned to the staircase. Her eyes lighted on a small parcel attached to one of the banister's rails. "Enoch, look!" She ran over to inspect it. The brown paper crackled as she untied the twine and unwrapped the package. A musty smelling leather bag was revealed. 

By this time Enoch had come over. "Why would an old bag be wrapped up and attached to a stairway?" He wrinkled his nose, which he usually did when he was confused. 

Rachel laughed again. "Well I would guess that it's what's inside the bag that's special." She reached in and pulled out a beautiful cloth bound notebook. It had probably been in the bag for decades, but it look perfectly preserved, still a beautiful burgundy. Rachel opened the notebook. The diary entry was written in beautiful flowery script. 

Enoch inhaled sharply. "The date! This entry goes back to the civil war!"

May 24, 1861

Dear Burgundy,

John had an argument with Mama and Poppa. He wants to join the army... 

The couple jumped when a shout echoed in the house. They blinked in surprise. The place no longer looked old and dirty, but was clean and homely, decoracted with old fashioned furniture. It was like a museam preserved room. Then a young man came storming in from the front room. "My country needs me," he yelled, stomping up the stairs. He paid no attention to Rachel and Enoch.

A middle-aged woman came hurrying in. "We need you, John. Your father can't handle all the work on his own."

John. Rachel and Enoch looked at the diary and saw that the exact words of this fight were recorded on the paper. "We're witnessing the past," they said, coming to the same conclusion. The question was, how would they get back?

Lol sorry It's a little long guys... I cut out a few parts even! But I loved writing this story, it has so many emotions, I hope everyone likes it!

The Burgandy Ribbon

Everything had seemed normal. The air was cool with the oncoming winds of winter, and fresh with the early scents of frost. The trees, with leaves of gold and green and fire, danced with every gale that swept past their small ordinary town. Everything had seemed normal. 

"Hey Alex, beat this!" Came a voice through the winds of October. 

"No! You did it wrong! You go like this..." Came another with the sound of disappointment.  

"You're both doing it wrong!" The girl who had been addressed as Alex laughed. 

Alex. That was me. The girl with the striking blond hair and electric blue eyes, the girl with the smile that had the power to reach anyone's heart. The perfect girl, the girl everyone strived to be. 

That was me.  

Alex laughed, before jumping and arching her back just so, her arms above her head and held perfectly, her legs reaching through the air with sharpness and precision. The two people she was with, the two who had been her best friends, gaped in amazement. "You were always the best!" The one who had started their little contest offered with a chuckle, the smallest of the three, but with the biggest heart; Raina. 

"Ya, no one could beat your Firefly." The Firefly was a leap all three had strived to get perfectly right through the last year, the leap that only Alex had fully mastered. 

"Aww, I'm sure you two will get it in a little time." Alex offered with a punch to the boy's shoulder, who winced in pain. 

He tried to play it off with a little smile, and Alex smiled back. "Come on! I'll race you two to the dance studio!" Raina called before racing off. 

A gale swept through the trees, scattering firey leaves across their path. Ronan, the boy, and Alex raced off together, laughing as much as they could while also trying to save their breath for running. The leaves were all beautiful in color, some a bright gold and others a deep crimson, but only one leaf that crossed Alex's path really caught her eye. 

It was a deep red, the color you see when you close your eyes on a bright day like today. A beautiful color really, the color which held Alex's fate. 

Burgandy. 

Suddenly, Alex felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her side, like a strike of white-hot lightning. She gasped, also suddenly very light headed. She stopped and crouched down as a million black dots danced everywhere she could see. 

Oh, if only I'd known what that had meant, if only I had been paying attention, if only someone else cared... maybe I would still be my perfect self. Unfortunately, no one is perfect, and girls who seem like their perfect in every way often have flaws only a few could ever imagine.  

And as quickly as it had arrived, the burgundy leaf was gone, and with it, Alex's pain. She stood up, shaking her head. Raina, who had stopped for breath by a tree only a little ways from the studio, was now racing back towards Alex. Ronan, who had stopped to see why Raina was running back, was now close on her heels. "Alex!" She called breathlessly. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine, just a bit lightheaded." She smiled reassuringly. "I must not be drinking enough water."

Ronan nodded, but Raina still looked a bit worried. "Well, take it easy in Dance class today, you're our best dancer, we don't want you passing out and hurting yourself." 

Alex laughed. "You know as well as I do that I'm no better than you." She caught Raina's look of scepticism, Alex was the best dancer on their competitive team and way better than both her friends, which she knew perfectly well, she just didn't want to seem like she was cocky about it. "And you don't have to worry about me, Raina. I'll just drink some water and I'll be fine."

Oh, how I wish drinking water solved all problems. 

~*~ Later that day 

Alex's house was dark and cold, as their fireplace had not been running when her mother had picked her up from Dance Practise. Her mother lit their hallway candles as Alex sidled over to the fire to light it. 

Their house was in a widely spaced neighbourhood, and although it had two floors and two rooms, her mother would not pay for plumbing or electricity. She wouldn't pay for anything really, and Alex was used to it, she had lived with it her whole life. Although her mother did work, she scavenged her money and only saved the absolute minimum for food and clothes for her daughter. 

My life was perfect yes, in every way except the things no one could see. 

Alex helped herself to the chicken her mother had made. "Don't take so much..." Her mother warned.  

Alex scornfully put back half her plate. 

She sat down at their dusty table with her mother, who took way more than she would eat. "So how was school?" Her mother asked without really wanting to know the answer. 

"Dance." Alex corrected. "I had dance today."

Her mother gave her a glare. "Don't sass me, you spoiled brat." She hissed. "I pay an unreasonable amount for that dance class, you better be grateful I even allow you to eat dinner tonight!"

"Sorry." Alex apologised. "Thankyou for dinner."

They sat in silence for the rest of dinner. As Alex was getting up to put both her and her mother's plate in the dishwasher, she caught sight of another burgundy leaf stuck to her shoe. Almost instantaneously she doubled over in pain, the lightning sharp sensation ricocheting through her side. She gasped for breath as the black dots danced across her vision again, and a rining filled her ears. 

"ALEX!" A few moments later she became aware that her mother was yelling at her. 

She had dropped the dishes. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Her mother yelled. 

"I'm sorry." Alex gasped, picking up the dishes. "I had a sharp pain in my side." She walked over to the sink and tried not to listen to her mother ranting to herself. 

"I can't believe her father left me to raise this spoiled monster all on my own...the only reason I pay for her stupid dance lessons is that maybe she'll be famous one day... I'll be rich... she better not fail me... I would kill her myself if I could... stupid spoiled brat won't last a day in this world on her own... gonna be stuck with her for the rest of my life... poor me..."

Alex had grown up with her mother's hurtful words, yet it didn't make the blow any less painful.

~

Over the next few days, which soon turned to weeks, and then months, I had completely forgotten about almost passing out twice in one day. It was just dehydration, I had kept telling myself. Maybe that had something to do with it, but oh, I would not have expected in a million years what came next. 

It was December, and our dance studio was putting on their annual performance of the Nutcracker. I starred as the Sugarplum fairy, like I had the past two years before. Towards the end of rehearsals, we had already begun learning our Spring performance, Swan Lake. I was Odette, the senior who used to play her had graduated, leaving me to fill her place. Raina was my understudy, much to her disappointment. Understudies didn't get to dance unless something terrible happened to the originals and they needed someone to fill their place. 

Which is exactly what happened to me.  

It was the night of the Nutcracker, and Alex was nervous beyond words, even though she had performed her part about a million times, twice in front of people even. But she wasn't nervous about forgetting her part, no. She was very lightheaded, and it seemed that no amount of water would clear it. 

"You're gonna do great!" She called after Raina as she left to start the show as Clara. 

Alex rubbed her head after she had gone. She took another sip from her water bottle while continuing to neglect to put on makeup. "Hey, are you doing alright?" Alex looked up and was relieved to see Ronan. "You aren't looking too good. And Raina said you took like, five Advil pills, and don't girls usually take only two or three for their-"

"Its not that." Alex interuppted before he could finish. "No, my back just hurts. It's nothing, probably just slept on it wrong."

He sat down next to her, his sword clacking on the ground as he did. "Do your ankles still hurt too? Can you perform tonight?! Raina knows your part well...I'm sure she can go on for you-"

"No! Ronan! Seriously I'm fine!" Alex pushed his shoulder affectionately. "Do you hear that? I think that's your warning cue! Better get up there to wow the crowd, Nutcracker!" 

"My warning cue?!" Instantly all concern was gone from Alex as he scrambled towards the curtains and smoothed out his costume. 

Alex smiled and went back to staring at her makeup case. 

~
Alex sighed. This was it. This was her time to shine, and nothing would stop her. Not the pain in her feet, not the pain in her back, not her lightheadedness, she was going to go out there and show the crowd how a real ballerina deals with her problems. 

There, that was her cue. She stepped out into the spotlight and posed, her smile masking the immediate dizziness the spotlights gave her. Her feet already ached, even with all the pain medicine she took. But she tried not to think of it as she began dancing. She only noticed the music and the movement of the other dancers on stage. That was all that mattered. 

That was all that mattered. To me, that was all that mattered. And maybe it helped me see my flaws. But too late. At least I could go out doing something I loved. 

Alex twirled and spun, landing lightly with every graceful leap, even while wearing her pointe shoes. Every dancer gives the illusion they're as light as a feather, and with each strangled breath, that's exactly what Alex's head begun to feel like. 

There. The end of the 8-minute dance was near. She just had...to...finish....gracefully...It took all of Alex's strength to stay focused and to stop herself from slipping away.  

She twirled in the air and landed with a loud clumping sound which echoed through the stage. She forced herself not to wince, although her smile was slowly slipping away. As she danced up to her finishing pose, she saw one of the other dancers give her a concerned look. Alex arched up onto her toes and hit her finishing pose perfectly to the last little sound of the music. Pain immediately coursed through the bones in her feet, and up her calves to her knees...and her back...then her head...

The curtains were closing. They seemed to close so slowly. Or was it just her? The black dots that had been swimming through her vision all night were growing larger and larger, as the spotlight became hotter and hotter, and as she thought the curtains closed, which may or may not have been the black dots swallowing her vision whole, she gave in and collapsed with a splintering crack of her ankle. 

The last thing I remember seeing was that burgundy color behind your eyelids when you close your eyes on a bright day.

~

I woke up in a hospital. My ankles were wrapped and hung in matching white casts, which almost instantly reminded me of pointe shoes. My left arm had a tube in it, which was probably an IV. my right middle finger was hooked up to a heart reader. 

Beep beep beep. 

The room was filled with only the sound of the heart reader. I remember blinking my eyes and looking over my shoulder. I don't know why I had that instinct, but I did, and was shocked to see what I did. 

"A-Alex?" She seemed so happy to see that I was awake. The heart meter increased as I smiled. 

"Mother?" 

"You're awake!" Her smile filled my heart so much that I felt like laughing. "Which is good, because your friends have something to tell you." My face fell. She had that tone of voice; disappointment, hatred, ressentment...something like that. 

She got up and left. The heart metre slowed down. I felt like crying, although I taught myself not to cry about these things, as it would only result in more pain. Especially if it was in public. So I pushed it back down with all of my other emotions. 

It only seemed like a few moments before three people entered my room, followed by a doctor. "Raina! Ronan!" I said happily, my other feelings locked tightly away. I was about to congratulate them on their performance of the Nutcracker...when I realised I couldn't remember it. 

My mom gave them each a demanding look, and they looked down. "The doctor thought it would be better hearing this from your closest friends." Ronan offered in a mumbled voice. 

Raina sighed. "And remember we'll be with you through this all, and when you're better-"

"If," My mother cut in.

"When," Raina continued. "We'll help you rise to the top in dance again, and school, and anything else you forget or fall behind in." 

Alex stared at them for a second. They were wearing casual clothing, with their hair all messed up, as if, as if they had been here for a long time. And pinned to each of their shirts were small burgundy ribbons, made from what looked to be my Sugarplum dress. "All this for two broken ankles?" I scoffed. "Really guys, I think I'll be fine. The only thing this might affect it dance but I can practise off my feet-"

"You have cancer." My mom deadpanned. The three other people in the room looked at her, shocked. "You have cancer, and only if you get better, will you be allowed in my house again." She looked at me straight in the eyes. "Your dance team has offered to fundraise for your medications, and so has other such things but don't expect any help from me."  

I looked at the doctor at the back of the room as my mom turned and left. "She's joking right? Just another stupid excuse to get me out of her hair?" 

My two friends looked at the ground. I noticed their ribbons again. They were shaped like any cancer ribbon. I felt my heart sink into my stomach. This is when the doctor decided to step in. "You have multiple myeloma, a type of blood cancer. Unfortunately, it is very far developed- with the help of funds from your dance team and other organisations, you will start chemotherapy tomorrow. Until you get better, you are confined to bed rest, and are not allowed to leave this room." 

I didn't see at the time how ironic that statement was, I had two broken ankles, where else would I go? But all I could think about at the moment were my mother's words. If. If I get better. 

The next few months were pretty uneventful, I stayed in that bed the whole time, talking to my friends, or when they were forced to go to school or had dance, watching the same stupid TV show. Or, when I wasn't in bed I was doing chemo, which was not fun, plus they had to shave off all my beautiful golden locks. One day when I was extremely board they told me to start writing about my experiences, what I could remember from my life before the performance, to try and see if I could catch any of the symptoms. Which I wrote in this very journal. Raina got it for me. It's burgundy. I also figured out that those ribbons they were wearing, yes the cancer ones, were for multiple myeloma and Raina had suggested our dance team should make them and pass them out to support me. I know, she's the best. 

Today I go into another session of chemotherapy. The doctors say I'm doing better, but the last time I went into chemo I heard them talking about other treatments, because chemo isn't working. They were also very concerned with what they found in this journal. Maybe its farther along than they thought it was. I wonder how long I have left to live. 

Alex put her journal down as the doctors entered the room. They smiled and asked her how her day was going. "Fine." She answered. "Like usual. You know, have cancer everything's fine." 

The doctor paid no attention to her snarky remark, not unlike the other remarks he hears every day from her. Alex tried her best to have an open mind about this, but not everyone can be happy smiley all the time. I mean, he wouldn't if his mother abandoned him in a hospital after learning he has a stupid almost uncurable cancer. "This won't hurt." 

The needles always hurt. But Alex has gotten used to it. It's better than the pain she would be feeling otherwise, that's for sure. 

The doctors laid her down on the operation table and prepared her for operation. Today they were checking on her kidneys or something before chemo. There was some reason behind it but no one had told her and to be honest, Alex could care less right now. She knew the journal was supposed to make her feel better, but it only made her feel worse. She missed her friends, and she missed dance. That was something that would never be the same, even if she got better.

The operating light shined into her eyes as they began working on her. She stared up at the light, feeling no pain mentally or physically. Slowly, she noticed her eyes beginning to close. And she let them. She didn't fight back. She let herself loose.

The last thing she remembered seeing was the burgundy color one sees if they close their eyes on a bright day.  

~*~ 

It was Springtime. The fresh sent of rain flowed through the valleys of blooming flowers and trees, and young animals played in the grass everywhere the eye could see. Today was a perfect day. An especially perfect day to put on a performance of Swan Lake. 

Raina was nervous. This was her first time performing the part of Odette, the main character of the dance. She wasn't even supposed to be here, in this dress, behind the curtains to start the show. Her best friend Alex was supposed to be in this dress, filling her shoes. This was supposed to be Alex's night. 

"Hey!" Raina blinked out of her thoughts and followed the sound to stage right, wear Ronan was running out towards her. 

"Ronan! The show's about to start!" She whisper-yelled, shocked. 

"Wait! Stop talking!" He said, and he opened the palm of his hand to reveal a burgundy ribbon.

She met his gaze, shocked. But he only smiled, and pinned it in plain view, of everyone everywhere, to the front of her dress. She opened her mouth to protest, but he put a finger up to stop her and revealed one on his costume as well. "So Alex can perform with you." He said with a sad smile. 

He then ran off stage. Raina only had time to adjust herself and get into her starting pose before the curtains lifted. That night, Raina danced not only for herself, but for Alex too. And with that knowledge, she danced better than she ever thought she would. And although she didn't know it, her friend Alex was following every one of her moves....through a burgundy ribbon pinned to her chest.

OMG CLAAWS THAT IS SOOO GOOD! You had me hanging on to every word and just nervously awaiting the end!!! Once again, THAT IS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'll post the last part of my story soon.

"Cami. Cami, look at me."

I wasn't a very simple request. I stared determinedly at Mom's favorite burgundy table cloth, watching my tears fall on it. She placed her dark-skinned finger under my chin, forcing me to look into her dark brown eyes. My eyes.

"He was a hero," she whispered, the tears falling from her eyes too. My lip quivered.

"I DON'T CARE!" I screamed, standing up so quickly I tore her table cloth. I didn't care about that, either. I threw a perfect temper tantrum, stomping up the stairs, slamming my door so loud it could've been heard on Mars, sprawled myself out on my bed, and sobbed into my pillow.

~

I didn't go to school the next day. I was planning on never going again, but Mom put an end to that idea. 

So there we sat, eating breakfast, one of the four chairs conspicuously empty. I glanced at the table cloth where I had ripped it; Mom had seen it back together. I stabbed my waffle moodily. 

"Ammie?" Kayla skwaked. She was only three, and couldn't say her C's right, so she simply took it off if my name. 

"Yeah Kayla?"

"Is Daddy in heaven?"

Prickly hot sorrow seeped through my body. 

"Yes, Kayla," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, "Daddy is in heaven."

~

I pounded up the steps to the main entrance of school, the straps of my navy-and-burgundy backpack cutting into my shoulders. The hall was filled with miniscule sixth graders, gigantic eighth graders, and my fellow seventh graders as usual. I slowed down on my way to my locker, looking for one certain person...

Aha! Glory! My savior!

Glory looks exactly like her name: glowing blue eyes, a fabulous tan, bronze hair sweeping down her back. I sighed in relief and made a beeline for her. I slipped my light brown hand in her tan one.

"Closet meeting. Now," I murmured out of the corner of my mouth. She nodded and shooed away Riley, a sixth grader who positively adored her. We walked quickly to the janitor's closet, slipping in nonobtrusibely. I took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Daddiedacoupleofdaysago" tumbled out of my mouth in one big word. Glory, my best friend since we were six, clapped a hand over her mouth and threw her arms around me, giving me the most warm, loving, tight hug I have ever received. When we pulled apart, there were tears sparkling in her beautiful eyes, about to be she'd for my sake.

"Oh, Cami..." She hugged me briefly again. "He gave his life for others. He was so brave... Cami..." 

~

My dad was a firefighter for our town in Bozeman, Montana. (Just a random city I thought of not where I live irl.) Glory was so right... he was so brave. He risked his life- every day- for others in need. 

I was a tiny bit late to English, my first class. I looked up at the board to find Mrs. Sigway's quote of the day: don't look back, you're not going that way. I liked it. I really liked it.

~

I thought about that quote the rest of the day, and what it meant to me. When I got home, I looked at the table cloth. Torn, sewn back together. Just like our family; we were torn, ripped, but we put ourselves back together again. We would never be the same, of course, but we would go on.

~~~~~~~ 

Very good Soren! :)

~~

Ambrosia's wings crumpled and she crashed unmercifully onto the solid rock below. Black dust rolled off of her back and wings as she stood up, and a wooden skeleton showed white in patches where there were no petals, burgundy or black, left to represent scales. Wincing as a little more black dust fell from her neck, Ambrosia swung her draconic head around to examine her wings and back. Immediately she wished she hadn't. White wooden ribs peeked through various spots riddling her sides, and her wings were peppered with gaping, black-rimmed holes. The dragon shook her head vigorously and marched into the mist before her. At first she bristled in anticipation of anything that might jump out of the wet, clammy vapor all around her. After about twenty minutes of absolutely no assault from any side, Ambrosia slowly let her hackles down. However, her guard was sky high, and so were two eyes watching Ambrosia carefully. A shriek pierced the air, setting Ambrosia into a sprint. A giant monster, at least three times as big as Ambrosia, with a bug's head and a bat's wings and body, swooped down from the heights, clearing the mist with one beat of its hideous wings. The mountan's sides dropped off as cliffs, the edges of which were high above the ground on which Ambrosia stood. A shriek of a roar rushed from the monster's throat, its mandibles quivering with every glass-shattering note. Ambrosia slid to a halt as the beast landed heavily in front of her.

"I am Sheol." The beast's voice was deep and rough, backed by an evilly slithering way of speaking. The monstrosity spread its leathery wings out wide. Scars snaked across the beast's wings and face. "I've been killed many times by your type, but I'll be the victor this time 'round." Ambrosia flinched away from the creature as it laughed, a purely evil sound of corrupted mirth. Suddenly, somewhere deep deep down inside Ambrosia, something awakened. She stared Sheol in the eye and growled. Her opponent's laughing stopped abruptly. This fueled Ambrosia's newfound inner warrior and she launched herself in the general direction of the monster with the help of a nearby boulder. After bounding off of the rock, Ambrosia was sailing through the air towards the creature's neck. It threw a wing in front of its insect's head. The dragon's claws sliced through the wing membrane. Sheol snarled in anger and fear. However, instead of attacking Sheol's neck (which was obviously too hard for Ambrosia's claws to slice through with ease), the seemingly rotting dragon pushed past the exoskeleton-protected insect head. There was a clack of sticks as Ambrosia threw her wings open and jumped off of the creature's furry shoulder. Sheol shrieked in fury and whipped around, throwing open its own wings. To Ambrosia's advantage, the chasm was a bit too small for the beast to fly very well in, so the repulsive thing resorted to flapping awkwardly, half flying, half swinging itself along. Rocks tumbled down from the cliffs high above in protest to the beast's floundering. Up ahead, to Ambrosia's immense despair and terror, the rock closed in, and Sheol was too close for Ambrosia to pull up without ending up dying, crushed in between the beast's mandibles. A memory stirred in the back of Ambrosia's mind. Suddenly, time stopped and all went white.

Laughing, a young girl, with long brown hair and grey eyes dashed around a bush.

"Ambrosia...! Where are youuuu!" A man crept up behind the bush. The little girl could not help giggling, no matter how hard she pressed her hands over her smiling lips. The man jumped in front of the girl and she squealed, ducking into a sommersault and narrowly escaping the man's friendly grasp before rolling under his legs and taking off at full speed.

"You can't catch me, Father!"

The laughter faded into the further reaches of Ambrosia's mind. She now knew what to do. She flapped her ragged wings to gain speed. Sheol also sped up. At the last moment, Ambrosia spun around in the air, planting her hind feet firmly on the vertical wall of rock. Sheol lunged at her, mandibles reaching eagerly for the dragon's neck. Just before the beast reached her, Ambrosia curled up and launched herself outward and downward. Sheol screeched in fury as it rammed into the rock wall, and Ambrosia dared not look back as a sickening crunch split the air. Black goo splattered onto the rocks and shards of exoskeleton went flying. The dragon turned around. The impact when the beast ran into the wall had shattered Sheol's protective exoskeleton, exposing the vulnerable inside to the rest of the momentum being forced, quite literally, headfirst against the stone. Ambrosia had to turn away again in order to keep from wretching. When she looked up, she noticed that Sheol's blood was beginning to vaporize, and so was the rest of the monster. Most importantly, the wall was disappearing as well. Beyond it was a shore, and beyond the shore was a perfectly smooth pool.

~~