Atlantis was a place of beauty. Outside our small town, the woods were lush and green, and wildlife roamed them in great numbers. If one trekked a distance away from the bustle of life and sat down against a tree or a log, one could see all manners of animals go about their day.

Hiking was a favourite pastime of mine. Everyday, after school, I would rush into the woods and embrace the call of nature.

I had mapped out the surrounding land in a twenty mile radius of the town. If I had been asked to guide a party, I probably could have, knowing where a small gurgling brook ran towards the Eastern beach, the cozy hollow which was a good resting spot for a meal.

At the moment, I was kneeling in the dirt, comparing a footprint I had spotted with some of the sketches in my notebook. My father was a hunter, and I wanted to take over his trade one day. He hadn't yet trusted me with my first hunting rifle, but he had taught me the rudiments of tracking and being stealthy. The notebook was my way of cataloging the information he had passed down to me, and my way of checking that I was on the right track in my practice.

Leafing through the pages, I found what I was looking for.

They are easily identifiable from the two hoofed toes that form a heart-shaped track (see sketch). The inner wall is usually straight, or slightly concave. When they are in a hurry, the two dew claws may register in soft ground, and the prints will be deeper as well. The front dew claws are slightly closer to the hoof, and angled outward more than those of the hind track. The front prints will be larger than the hind track, and the prints will be symmetrical.

Yep. I was right. This was a deer treading its way through the trees.

Take note of any scuff marks on the trees. If there are marks that seem to be made by antlers, be wary. A buck, if it spots you and deems you a threat, can be extremely dangerous.

Noting the lack of such marks, I snapped my book shut and confidently strode forward, believing that I had chanced upon a doe. Moving at a relatively good pace, a pang of disappointment hit me when I realised the doe had suddenly bolted and splashed its way into a stream that flowed from a nearby waterfall. Frowning, I decided that it was time for a break, and took out a sandwich to snack on.

My eyes roamed the new area I had yet to explore. The waterfall was not a huge thunderous one, rather will water tumbling melodiously down the rocks in a small cascade. I studied it with a small smile, until my sharp eyes snagged on a crack in the rock face.

Where could this lead to? I wondered, as I stood and dusted myself off. Removing my shoes, I stepped into the stream to get closer to the natural wall. The water was cold and refreshing over my toes, and I enjoyed the feel of it.

Feeling around the crack, I realised that it was a bluff, and it rounded a sharp corner before sloping gently downwards. Ever adventurous at that young age of 13, I decided to explore, thinking that there could be treasure hidden inside. Instead, what I found was a stunning cave.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling, the dripping water glistening in the light thousands of glowworms shed. They were like tiny green stars in the velvet darkness of the cave. Below them, stalagmites of differing sizes sprung up from the ground. In hindsight, I should have realised that there was something unnatural about this place, as all the stalactites and stalagmites grew in a rough circle, caging in the lone smaller circle of stalagmites in the center.

I walked up to those solitary stalagmites; there were a total of 26, and they were unlike any I have seen before, growing thin and reedy unlike the sharp lance head of the others. Even more peculiarly, they had a hole in the center of them; they looked exactly like giant flutes.

It was at that point that my curiosity overcame my better judgement, and I decided to blow into one for fun.

DEEEEE.

The sonorous sound echoed around the stone chamber, and perhaps it was just my imagination, but it trembled slightly in the wake of the sonorous sound. Shocked, I stumbled backwards.

Blinking several times, wonder took the place of shock. Deciding to experiment a little, I crossed over to another stalagmite, and blew down the hole in the center.

EEEFFFFF.

Moving to the next, and the next, I now blew them in quick succession.

GEEEEE. AAITCH. EEEEYYEEEE. JAAAY. KAAAY.

I stopped. 26 stalagmites. 26 letters in the alphabet. Of course! Each stalagmite corresponded to one of the letters. Intrigued, I decided to spell my name.

AAARRR. OOOH. AAAAS. YEEEEE. TEEEEE. TEEEEE. EEEEYEEEE. AAAAYEEEE.

As the last letter rang out, the world seemed to blink upon itself. Suddenly, the little green pinpricks of light were now white, and the ceiling seemed to be vastly overhead, an endless amount of space now looming over me instead of the stalactites that were there before.

I whirled around, taking in my surroundings. I was on a vast open field, standing in the middle of what the stalagmites I was blowing into, except that the rest of the scenery had now changed. I was no longer standing on dank rock, but grass in an open field. What was once the larger outer ring of stalactites and stalagmites were now huge pillars of rock erected around the stone flutes. The air had a bite of cold in it, and I shivered.

In my confusion, I started towards a figure standing within the outer ring, but outside the inner ring of rock. Dressed in black, with alarmingly pale skin, she stood out against the starry night sky. Her hair was bone white, as was her eyes, and veins of onyx spiderwebbed her china skin.

"Rosettia, she who will be my thorn." An evil smile graced her face, exposing perfect white teeth. The voice itself was soft, sibilant and malevolent. "I have been waiting for you. We have much work to do."

Before I could decide to flee, her hand came up, and a bolt of shadow shot from her fingertips and slammed into my chest. Pain shrieked through my nerve endings and pounded in my head, until I thought it would burst. My eyes were on fire, the chill air now like shards of ice in my lungs. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The pain was so intense, so overwhelming. All consuming.

Then, oblivion. Blessed release from the torture.

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Word Count: 1147

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Thank you for checking my book out! If you liked this chapter, please click the star above and turn it yellow to vote for A Clash of Thorns and Feathers! Do continue to support me throughout the course of the 13 weeks of the Open Novella Contest, and do also go check out the other amazing entries contestants are submitting. :D

BTW, I used prompt 26 in this chapter, and prompt 4 made a slight appearance...
  - Prompt 26: You are hiking in the woods and decide to explore a cave. The stalactites and stalagmites are amazing! One cluster of stalagmites has holes in the center and looks like a set of giant pipes growing out of the floor. Just for laughs, you blow into one. The chamber echoes with the sound, and then... 

  - Prompt 4: You're a weapon, and weapons don't weep. (My faaavourite)

TYSM, Kiawah.

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