Ione's mud-splatter hand rapped the old, rickety door of the hut. The hut was rather large, made from thick straw and slabs of dried mud. The sheets of mixed material leaned upon each other, meeting in a point on the top of the hut. On the right side of the door was a brass handle, a surprising contrast with the old dwelling.
It was rare, and surprising for the two Mythara and their Ewynne to see such an old style of abode. Nowadays in the city, even in the poorest parts, people were all living in either glass houses, the most popular type, or plain houses that looked like those of the early 2000's. To have a hut, even out in the the middle of nowhere, was extremely peculiar.
After a couple of seconds, Ione knocked again, louder this time. Bits and pieces of mud fell away from the door, causing Dyrmian to sneeze.
Now, when a gryphon sneezes, it is best to stay at least a mile away. Unfortunately.... Tanwyn and Brogan did not know that. Ione was aware that Dyrmian was highly allergic to dust, but he had generally avoided dusty parts and had never before sneezed.
ACHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Ione was thrown against the ground and Brogan smashed into the hut. Tanwyn's loose feathers on her wings, about two hundred of them, were torn out and flew behind her, causing the hut to look like someone had vandalized it and wrapped it in toilet paper.
Dyrmian sniffed, again inhaling another plume of dust.
"Run!" cried Brogan, leaping up and grabbing Ione's hand. Tanwyn leaped into the air, shrieking indignantly.
They ran and hid behind an outcrop of 5 foot high rock about a hundred feet away as Dyrmian let out yet another sneeze. The rock trembled violently. The three watched in fascination as trees literally bent under the force of the gryphon's sneeze. Dust, rocks and dried grasses flew up in a whirlwind. Dyrmian and the hut disappeared in the great mess.
Clear the dust! Think about the dust clearing in your mind or he'll cause a tornado! Ione tactoophrened urgently.
Clear the dust. Clear the dust. Clear the dust. Brogan visualized the dust clearing, hoping desperately that whatever Ione was trying to do would work. He concentrated for about a minute, squeezing his eyes shut, before Ione gently touched his shoulder. His eyes snapped open.
Dyrmian stood before them, an apologetic look on his bird-like face.
Brogan yelled and leaped backwards, stumbling over a rock and falling onto his bottom.
Don't worry, I won't sneeze again...I hope, Dyrmian said.
Ione walked over to Brogan and extended a hand. Brogan, a faint pink creeping up into his heeks, accepted it and got up.
Her hair, her eyes, her face... thought Brogan dazedly.
Tanwyn snickered beside him and he realized with horror that it had travelled to her. Apparently, to his relief, it didn't travel to Ione or Dyrmian.
"What the....?!" someone yelled.
YOU ARE READING
Mythara
FantasyWhen Brogan's parents disappear, he is only six years old. When he meets his previously unknown sister, Amber, life changes drastically for him. Then enters Ione into his life. He's now sixteen and its been years since he's seen another human. When...
