Bag of Snow

By Andrew Arthur Green

The story of Marissa: the tale of a young woman's early years training to become a mage for the Holy Protectorate. Follow her on her quest for magical knowledge, and experience the people, relationships, and fantastic events she encounters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312364820

Book preview

Bag of Snow

Bag of Snow

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Marissa’s Story

Andrew Arthur Green

Edits by Kelsie Beaudoin

Copyright

Copyright © 2014 by Andrew Arthur Green

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Digital Release: 2014

ISBN 978-1-312-36482-0

www.floatingcat.com

Dedication

Dedicated to my lovely wife Jessica, whose patience and support during the NaNoWriMo process was key to me finishing my first and second novels.

Preface

Bag of Snow was originally written in 2005 during the month of November for National Novel Writing Month.

It was written as a continuation of the fantasy world created in my first novel: Rusted Halo.

This follow-up is the story of a female character named Marissa that briefly appeared in Donovan’s adventures. The events of this book detail her life prior to appearing in Gestalt.

Much of my effort on this book was to distinctly make it not as dark or as sorrowful as the first novel. I wanted the overall story to be a lot more upbeat, and honestly more favorable for readers. In the end, it is a lot more fun to read that the first. I feel the bits of humor also help lighten the tone.

I also challenged myself to see if I could write about a character’s relationship and do so successfully. I also wanted to stay away from standard fantasy tropes regarding gender or norms whenever possible. The overall story still has tropes, but there was an effort made to shy away from them.

Like the first novel, I was able to successfully write more than the needed 50,000 words to complete the NaNoWriMo challenge during the thirty days. However, I was not able to finish the story.

In fact, I just barely hit the word count at 50,235 words. Furthermore, Marissa’s story ended on a cliffhanger, and I really had no idea on how I’d tie it all up in the end.

Flash forward eight years later, and after editing the first book, I’ve come back to fully finish Marissa’s tale. The new final word count reached 63,499. Much more detail was added back into the original draft, and the final chapters now complete her journey.

If you read Rusted Halo and didn’t care for its bleakness, or you chose to skip it because of this fact; Bag of Snow may be more to your tastes.

Similarly, the events that transpire in the first novel are not required to read this pseudo-prequel. Marissa’s tale is a standalone story with the background of her world properly detailed.

I hope you enjoy it, and maybe one day I’ll return to describe further adventures in this fantasy world I’ve created.

-Andrew Arthur Green

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Chapter 1

A massive crevasse unlike any other bordered the northern edge of the Fontail Desert. This fissure in the landscape, suitably called the Fontail Chasm, cut across the land in an almost straight line. Above the abyss was an earthen shelf that rose several hundred feet up towards the sky. This giant cliffside stretched for several leagues in each direction. While the formation was obviously too big to have been created via the hands of man, something about it seemed unnatural.

The area, as if not already odd enough, split the land into two distinct zones.

At the bottom lay the dusty and dry Fontail Desert. Miles upon miles of giant sand dunes ran south of the chasm. There were a few settlements scattered across the arid land where water could be found bubbling from the ground, but the land was mostly uninhabitable. The only remarkable feature of the entire desert was the city of Takait.

The upper cliffside was the complete opposite. Lush tropical forests practically fell off the top of the mighty chasm’s edge. Water was plentiful upon the northern face, as was life throughout the humid jungle. In fact, in one defined spot the surplus of water had created a colossal waterfall.

This waterfall was by far the largest in the land, easily a furlong in width. The name given to this wonder was the Great Vein. Its mighty currents fell from the top of the chasm in giant sheets. Regardless of the season, water continued to pour off the cliff unabated. Thick plumes of mist emanated from the Great Vein, so much so that travelers would use it as a sightline for trekking northward.

The falls came crashing down into the base of the chasm, forming a wide river that traced the border between the two differing climates. Long ago, this split river had dug a deep canyon that unfortunately made the river’s waters inaccessible to the local desert dwellers. It was often said that the Fontail Chasm was bottomless.

It was nearly impossible for man to ascend the cliffs by natural or unassisted means. The sheer height that a person had to climb was far too steep. Since they were unable to climb the rocky wall with human hands, the engineers of man had come up with an alternate solution.

The Fontail Elevator rose up and down the entire height of the Great Vein. A century ago, using their mastery of metal, they had created a large pulley system from which to successfully ascend the chasm. Located a moderate distance away from the great waterfall to the west, huge gears had been installed onto massive iron spindles at both the top and bottom of the chasm. Pairs of them, equally spaced apart, had been erected and secured deeply into the earthen rock.

From these gears stretched individual chain links made from wrought steel. Each link was the size of two grown men. Several hundred of these links connected the elevator’s gears. Mist from the nearby waterfall had long ago covered these metal chains with tarnish and rust.

Upon the chains, a single elevator platform had been installed. Made from thick timbers cut from the forest above, its flat surface spanned the entire width between the twin chains. In the four corners of the house-sized platform lay hooks which locked the platform into place at two points like a giant swing. Self-adjusting weights had been installed beneath its corners in an attempt to keep the platform level.

People, livestock, and wagons full of cargo could all be transported via the elevator. At its maximum, the massive swing could carry approximately fifty individuals at one time.

Although the platform would sway occasionally during its operation, due in part to the wind that commonly blew across the chasm, it was definitely sturdy. The ride up and down the Fontail Elevator was fairly pleasant and traditionally an enjoyable experience for its travelers.

For the safety of its passengers, an intricate gearbox system had been developed to start and stop the elevator. This system could be locked into place at a moment’s notice, or alternatively it could be used to gradually speed up or slow down the platform as it ascended. In addition, the entire motion of the elevator could be reversed when the platform either reached the top or the bottom.

And what powered this wondrous man-made structure? Why the rushing falls of the Great Vein itself!

Sitting beside the gearbox system at the base of the elevator was a series of tall, vertical wooden paddle wheels. Installed into the wall of the chasm itself, they were connected to the great Fontail Elevator’s gearing mechanisms. The tremendous force of the fall’s waters easily turned their massive forms, giving life to the elevator. Through a series of pins and locks, the paddles could be disconnected and reconnected to the lift within minutes. While this power system was not as precise as the elevator’s controls, it still was a tremendous marvel of human ingenuity. However, one drawback of the paddles was that due to rushing water of the Great Vein above, the wooden wheels would become worn and therefore need to be replaced regularly.

The Fontail Elevator could lift passengers and their cargo up to twenty times a day, including trips up to the forest and trips down to the desert. Because of this, the toll for its use was costly, but not terribly expensive. It was a matter of slots being available, rather than the expense of its operation. The lift had been built at least a century ago, and the only true cost of running the lift was its staffing and maintenance. Income from its use primarily went to the Church, but a small portion was shared between Takait and a few other cities in the jungle above.

Caravans and traveling parties were the most common passengers on the massive lift. It was also customary to see ranchers with a small herd of cattle on the elevator, as the best grazing lands lay on the upper cliff. In addition, the populace from Takait would often need to travel from their desert city to the larger cities up above.

It was for this reason that Marissa was going to get a chance to ride the great Fontail Elevator yet again.

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Marissa had ridden on the wondrous lift before: once when she was just shy of four years old, and again just six months ago. Although she had only ridden it twice, she had visited it many times; far more than she could count on her tiny little fingers.

As it turned out, Marissa’s father Graham worked as one of the staff members for the elevator. His duties at the site were for security and passenger safety. Should matters get out of hand, say a loose calf panicking as it was loaded onto the lift, he would come to assist. Years spent wrangling cattle and keeping the peace had hardened the man to the point where it seemed he could climb the cliff face itself. Graham’s station was located at the base of the elevator near the conductor’s controls.

Graham could see his little girl coming up the desert path to see him. The man and his wife had been blessed with petite Marissa twenty-two seasons ago. He was so surprised at how fast his daughter was growing. Her dark black hair trailed down her back just like the waters of the Great Vein. Upon her thin frame was a light blue dress, almost a gown, and it fluttered in the breeze. Her beaming brown eyes connected with his and then he saw her jubilant smile. She skipped up to see her father and Graham began to grin. Tiny little footprints imprinted themselves into the sand from the little girl’s sandals.

Following behind Marissa was her mother. Sicily, just like her daughter, had long black hair. Instead of letting it flow loose, the young mother’s hair was firmly braided. The dark locks were fastened together with some frayed ribbon at the back of her head and at its tail. Upon Sicily’s tanned skin one could see how the dry and sandy climate of the desert had smoothed her features. She wore a simple tunic and looked to be traveling light for today’s trip. Just like little Marissa, she continued up the path to meet her husband Graham.

Graham spoke, It is surely nice to see the both of you this afternoon. A bit early I see?

His wife replied, Yes, yes. And why do you think we are ‘a bit early’ dear?

To see you daddy! chirped Marissa. She hugged her father tight.

Ah, I was hoping as much. It is certainly great to see the both of you, Graham paused. Are you glad to riding the great Fontail Elevator today, lil Marissa?

Of course daddy. Are you going to be coming up with us today? she asked in an inquisitive voice.

Not today I’m afraid. We had several caravans riding today and I have to keep my eyes open to make sure all is well.

Marissa pouted.

Now please don’t pout Marissa, your father has his responsibility and we have ours. We have to make it to Thatcher before the sun sets. We need to make sure we get the supplies the horse master requested.

Marissa still wasn’t pleased, but nodded anyway. She hadn’t seen her father in two weeks. He often had to spend long stints manning his post at the elevator. Only occasionally was he able to spend any real amount of time at their home near Takait.

I brought you a present daddy. From a little purse she kept tied to her waist, she plucked a tuft of feathers that had been tied with some twine. She handed it to her father.

Now what is this? Whatever could this be? Graham continued to speak dramatically, Is it magic?

Well no, but my friends have told me it’s lucky. There are seven tweiler feathers and two… two? Marissa’s statement turned into a question.

Those are two vhan feathers, Marissa, her mother answered.

"Seven tweiler feathers and two vhan feathers. Also there is a single blade of green grass in the middle. Do you like it?"

"Do I like it? Of course I do. It’s because you made it. And it is very pretty."

Yeah, I like the little green feathers the best. Really pretty.

Graham took the feathered gift from his palm and tucked them into his coat pocket. Marissa let out a small giggle of glee.

Here my dear, Sicily handed her husband a cloth sack. Miscellaneous treats and foodstuffs. I know how much you miss the food at home.

And that I do, but nowhere as much as I miss the two of you.

The three of them held each other in their customary embrace. Of the trio, little Marissa hugged the tightest.

Chapter 2

The ride up the Fontail Elevator from bottom to top took an average of thirty-five minutes from start to finish. On this particular trip, Marissa and her mother would be sharing the platform with two other groups.

One of the travelling parties consisted of a covered wagon that carried four young men. The cart was being pulled via a single mule. From the look of their clothing, they were on their way to find work in the upper cliff cities, or at least that is what Sicily assumed. It was difficult to tell as they chose not speak with the rest of the travelers.

The other caravan only had a single sturdy male on horseback. At his side lay ten oxen, each of them with an iron chain wrapped around their necks. Through these harnesses, they had been tied one-by-one to the animal in front of it. The cattle formed one long leashed chain, and they were all skillfully handled by their keeper.

While not a full load for the great Fontail Elevator, it was still a sizable assembly. As each group climbed aboard, the iron guardrails that surrounded the platform were erected. These rails were not a perfect solution to restrain the passengers in regards to their safety, but they were still effective at performing their task.

In addition to this, a sole guard rode on each trip up and down the wall. He sat on a simple wooden stool near the western edge of the platform. This particular duty for the elevator’s staff was traditionally the most boring, and napping on the job was a regular occurrence. This trip would include the same, and the eyelids of the man assigned to this task became heavy. He would assuredly be very much asleep, very soon.

A great whistle of steam echoed up the wall of the chasm to signal the platform’s ascent. The wide wooden platform creaked, stuttered slightly, and then began its half-hour long climb.

Marissa waved to her father as the platform rose. Graham waved back and wished them on their way. The little girl watched as he slowly became smaller and smaller in her view. As he appeared farther away, the grip she had on her mother’s legs grew stronger: Marissa wasn’t terribly fond of heights.

As the minutes passed, the elevator continued its steady climb up the wall. Higher and higher it rose, until the platform had passed the halfway point on its journey up the cliff.

It was at about this moment, that a few of the oxen on the rising platform began to rustle.

Just out of sight, in the direction opposite of the Great Vein, a cloudy shape appeared. It flew upon the air effortlessly, almost gliding. It was apparent that the mass was coming closer to the rising elevator, and the attention of its passengers turned towards it.

The now fully awake guard called out, Pontia! He struggled to get upright and clumsily tripped into one of the oxen.

A tremendous cry was heard emanating from the approaching creature. Now fully visible, it was a terrible sight upon the air.

The giant birdlike creature was composed of pure blacks and grays, each feather a dark shadow upon the sky. Trailing behind its massive wings were long plumes of smoke that traced its every movement. Each flap of its massive wings twisted and stained the air with a putrid ash. Its pointed beak looked like that of a giant raven. The beast had glossy red eyes, and the passengers felt as though the red orbs were staring into their souls. Along with its monstrous form, an immense heat could be felt as it closed in on the platform.

The ten cattle were now fully spooked and they began to bellow out in horror. Almost instantly they began to flee from the elevator in futility, and in turn started to pull at their chain leashes.

The ox at the tail of the chain reared back away from its restraints, and its sudden movement pulled the entire line backwards a step. The still rising platform shifted slightly. The stone counterweights found below its wooden planks adjusted themselves in an attempt to counteract the sudden swing.

The guard whom had clumsily fallen into the group of cattle was shoved to the edge of the platform due to their panicked movements. When he tried to regain his balance, the rear oxen had instead slammed into his side. With a quick flip, the poor man toppled off the edge of the iron railing. No voice was heard as he fell downwards to the chasm below.

Marissa and her mother Sicily cowered down onto the floor near the western railings, both of them kneeling down and clutching the other. Fear filled into both of their hearts.

Another screech could be heard, and then the flying Pontian was upon them. Easily half the size of the entire platform, its massive form was awe inspiring. The accompanying heat of its presence forced the passengers to look away.

The feathered creature passed over the top of the elevator. It glanced down towards its prey. Focusing on its next move, it opened its wings to the cliffside winds and rose higher on the air currents surrounding the Great Vein.