The Birth of a Rebellion

by Adam Sipperly

  “There was a Strear and a Horqui. The strangest thing I ever did see. They were just running…”

  The King pulled his headset off and handed it back to the Iceman, not bothering to listen to the rest. “I need you to alert everyone to meet me at the town square, immediately.” He stood up hastily, knocking over the plate of food that had been in his lap. He didn’t bother to stop and clean it up, nor did he bother to ask anybody else.

  This can’t be true. He thought as he briskly raced through the halls. A Strear and a Horqui, here? “Preposterous!” But it must be true. The time is finally upon us. Everyone needs to know the truth.

  ◆◆◆

  The trio was moving along at a much faster pace now. Patrick was running across the ice, his skilled polar bear claws digging in and propelling him forward. Frize was keeping pace, his hooves leaving a trail of snow whipping in his wake. Gin-us was swimming along in the water beneath them, a constant jet of fire flowing in front of him. They were a weird-looking bunch, but nonetheless a force to be reckoned with.

  The Village appeared on the horizon faster than expected. The group slowed down, waiting for a furious attack the same as when they were run out of town. Patrick shuddered at the painful reminder of snowballs packed with ice shards ripping into his flesh.

  The village, however, was eerily quiet. They made it to the middle of the town, waiting for a fight, but saw no one. They were on high alert, listening closely for any indications of an attack. But the only sounds were those of the howling wind and the pool of water swirling around Gin-us as he circled around them.

  “Frize… where did ever…”

  It happened suddenly, the streets around them flooded with Icemen rushing from all angles. Doors opened, crowds poured from alleyways and they were soon surrounded. Patrick panicked and tried to find an escape path, but everywhere he turned there were dozens of Icemen. There was no way of escaping this without trampling them, and none of them truly wanted to harm the Icemen.

  “They have finally come!” A voice shouted from the throng of Icemen, and others followed suit.

  “They are here to save us!”

  “All hail the saviors!”

  “We are saved at last!”

  “Praise be to the Gods!”

  Patrick looked to both Frize and Gin-us, all three of their faces contorted with the same look of confusion, recognizable even in their altered states. As the shouting and cheers continued from the crowd, one Iceman stepped out from the crowd and hushed everyone else.

  “I am the King of this village,” he said, spreading his arms wide to address the crowd, “and it is my honor to welcome you, the Gods of Pluto. Our salvation has finally come!”

  Frize snorted with laughter behind Patrick. “Whoa, now hang on just a second. We are no Gods of Pluto. We’re the same guys that you almost killed earlier!” As soon as the words left Patrick's mouth, he regretted them. Why didn’t I just let them think we were their saviors? He thought to himself.

  Lucky for Patrick, the King ignored his words. “No, no, no. That can’t be right. The funny looking pale-skinned one, the big ugly orange one, and the outcast of our village? Why would you even claim to be such lowly forms of life?”

  “Look,” Patrick knew the easiest way out was to play along, but he just couldn’t. “I am Patrick, the pale-skinned one. That fish down there in the water, that would be Gin-us, the big ugly orange one. And Frize, the bravest Iceman I know, is that Horqui over there.”

  “It simply cannot be you,” the King said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. “You have come to fulfill the prophecy, left to us by our ancestors. You are the ones to free us and finally bring us home!”

  “Okay, seriously,” Patrick was getting annoyed. Just another group to add to the growing list that needs saving, that depends on me. “What could possibly make you say that?”

  “Follow me please, to the Chamber of our History!” The King stalked off through the crowd, a path forming as he walked.

  Patrick looked to Frize for answers, but he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. They cautiously began to follow the King through the streets, passing the house where only a short while ago they had been brutally driven from. The King led them to the far end of town, leaving behind the crowds of Icemen that were praising their every move. Just outside the city, they came to a giant door that appeared to be made of blue glowing ice.

  “What is this door made of?” Patrick was in awe, there was a gentle pulsing glow to the blue ice, which reminded him of the orb sitting in his backpack.

  “This is special ice, found on Pluto,” the King said, “our homeland.”

  “Wait a minute, how did you get down here if you’re from Pluto?” A slow realization crept over Patrick, “And I thought you were from Mars?”

  “All of those questions can be answered through these doors. But right now, I need to show you the paintings of our saviors, the paintings of you.”

  Placing his hand on the glowing door, an excited grin spread across the King’s face. The glow died out for just a moment, and then returned as it began to open. Inside was a dimly lit corridor, the walls on either side covered with intricate paintings. There were battles raging in some, kings being crowned in others, even babies being born in some.

  Patrick was so captivated by these images that he hadn’t realized the King stopped short, and almost ran right over him. I have got to start watching where I’m walking.

  “We are here. Look at the painting, it is you three!”

  He looked over the King’s shoulder to where he was pointing. Sure enough, on the wall behind him, there was a painting of the three of them. Frize as a Horqui stood to the left of Patrick, posed as a Strear. Gin-us was in his fish form, jumping out of the water in front of them, fire spitting from his mouth. There was no doubt that Patrick was the focal point of the picture. The background was a sea of blue and red, which as he looked closer, he realized was hundreds of Firemen and Icemen.

  “Woah,” was all he could manage to say. Gin-us and Frize remained silent, nobody was sure how this painting could exist.

  The King shifted where he stood. “The legend says that you will only help us if we all work together. Now that you have arrived, the time for a treaty is near. The battle of fire and ice has raged on long enough.”

  “Wait,” Patrick was more than a little annoyed with the King, “If you believe this war had gone on too long, why haven’t you raised a treaty before?”

  “The men of fire threaten our very existence. It is quite easy to melt ice with fire… not so easy to put out a fire with ice. We did what we must to best protect ourselves.” The King shifted again, clearly ashamed of his actions. “If we have your support, Saviors, then I will send the messengers immediately with a treaty in hand.”

  “It would seem the choice has already been made for us,” Frize interjected, the anger in his voice clear. “This war should have ended decades ago!”

  “You have to understa…”

  “Stop.” Frize turned and left Patrick standing there with the King, Gin-us silently swimming around them.

  “If this is our destiny, if this is how the war ends, then I accept it. Go and send your messengers out to your new friends.”

  The King ran off as Patrick turned once again to look at the picture. He was suddenly exhausted, the weight of everything starting to weigh him down again. He had never asked for any of this, but it would seem a path had already been laid out for him. And now, Patrick was stuck on it for better or worse.

  Frize was silently brooding just outside the Chamber as Patrick and Gin-us left. Nobody could blame him for the anger he felt. All of these years spent an outcast for trying to make peace with the Firemen, while all along this prophecy was kept from him. And now, the King so easily tossing the idea of a treaty out.

  “Frize,” Patrick said slowly, taking a step towards him, “you alright?”

  “I think my king and all his followers deserve to be melted into pud
dles by Flee and his kind. After all this time being criticized for trying to make peace, and our King not only gives mention to none of my efforts over the years but has hidden this prophecy from all of us?!” Frize kicked out his hoof, slamming it into the wall behind him.

  “Frize, please calm down.” Patrick placed a paw on his shoulder. “I can’t begin to pretend that I understand what you’re going through. But I do know how people can get stuck in their ways. Everyone is afraid of change. Your king needed this prophecy to even seem like a possibility before he could think of a treaty and convince all of your people to follow. Just be happy that finally, it’s happening. And you are still a big reason for that. Whether as yourself or as a Horqui. When you joined Gin-us and me, you set the wheels in motion for this treaty.” Patrick was smart enough to take no credit at this point.

  Frize let out a sigh and left Patrick, clearly still upset.

  “I hope he comes around.” Patrick looked down to Gin-us in the water, and a few bubbles floated up, his words lost before they reached the surface.

  Frize was the first to transform back to his normal self and began setting up camp just outside the chamber. It was clear that he didn’t want to go back to his home tonight. A small group of Icemen came to visit, bearing plates full of delicious-looking foods. Patrick took this opportunity to transform back to himself, allowing the Icemen to see and spread the word that he was one of their saviors. He was shocked as he transformed back to human form and found himself without clothing. The cold hit his skin instantly and he dove into the tent where he dug through his bag for a new outfit. Note to self, he thought, transformations don’t include your clothing.

  Patrick exited the tent, now clothed and thanked the Icemen for the food. As he ate, he didn’t really taste anything. His mind was focused on getting back to Flupotia, leaving the alien base and returning to his parents.

  With his mind wandering, Patrick left camp for a short walk. He wanted to examine some of the paintings in greater details, to try and piece together the story of the Icemen. There were pictures depicting gruesome battles, massive clashing’s of fire and ice. Others showed reverent kings on thrones, dressed in elegant purples and dark reds. Despite all the paintings he looked at, Patrick could find nothing that revealed how the Icemen had come to live on Mars, yet were originally from Pluto. It was a question to be answered another day.

  It wasn’t long before Patrick found himself back at the painting of them in their transformations. Having his normal eyes back he was able to focus more clearly on the picture, the colors of the wind no longer distracting him. It was here that he noticed something he hadn’t before. Next to the three of them stood a fourth creature. For some reason, whether it be deterioration over time, or it was removed on purpose, the creature was blurred out.

  There was no doubt in Patrick's mind that this fourth creature must have been Flupotia. At some point, destiny must have realized she wouldn’t make it to this leg of the journey, and she was erased as a savior. Patrick made his way back to camp where he crawled into bed, thoughts of her safety haunting him as he fell into a restless sleep.

  ◆◆◆

  The next morning Patrick woke up feeling dazed. Like he had spent the night with his head twisted at an odd angle. He shifted in his sleeping bag, rolling his neck to try and work out the kinks. As he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find the world upside down. Surely he was still dreaming, Patrick went to rub his eyes awake, only to realize his hands were also bound.

  Now wide awake and panicking, Patrick saw that the world was not upside down, but he was. He was tied up and hanging from the roof of the Chamber of History. He looked around at the upside-down paintings, for some reason appearing even more grotesque and creepy from this unnatural angle.

  Patrick shuddered and looked to his left where he saw Gin-us and Frize, stuck in the same situation, still sound asleep. There was no trace of who had tied the three of them up. Patrick assumed it was the Icemen, but he could not come up with logical reasoning for this.

  As he struggled against his ropes, he heard a shuffling noise in the shadows and knew his captors were just out of sight. Slowly, a group of three creatures came crawling into the light of the fire.

  They looked almost human. They were small, no larger than a child, but their arms were massive, rippling with muscles. They had the faces of grown men with largely disfigured features. Patrick likened them to the Picasso paintings he had seen on a recent field trip to the Art History Museum. The creatures were almost completely bald, with a few long wispy hairs sprouting from the tops of their heads. They were clothed in rags, giving them an even creepier appearance. Patrick was baffled how they came to be here. Having seen the King open the doors, he imagined not many had that power.

  “Did you do this to us?” Patrick demanded of the creatures, who were now within earshot.

  “Ah, the creature,” the closest and by far ugliest one said to the others, “it speaks.”

  “Who are you and what game do you think you’re playing.”

  “There is no game,” the biggest one said simply, “we are hungry and plan to eat you.”

  “Listen,” Patrick said, struggling against the ropes again. “Just let us go, we aren’t here to hurt you. But if you don’t just walk away from this, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  “You are funny,” the ugliest creature said, letting out a snort. “I will enjoy eating you.”

  As the creatures crawled away into the darkness down the hall, Patrick was hit with Deja-vu. The creature's words were eerily similar to those of Hawfleburg.

  “Gin-us, Frize! Wake up!” Patrick yelled, not worried about the creatures hearing him.

  “Leave me alone,” Gin-us said, still half asleep. “I’m having a good dream for once.”

  It took a few seconds for Gin-us to register he was upside down and tied up. As this realization crept over him, he began to resist against the ropes, rocking himself back and forth like a pendulum. As he knocked into Frize, he too awoke and began to struggle against his bindings.

  “That good dream you’re having,” Patrick said as he watched Gin-us swinging, “is about to become a nightmare. We’re on someone’s dinner menu.”

  “What are you talking about? Who tied us up?”

  “Look, I’ve got a plan.” Patrick was calm now that he had everyone awake. “There’s an easy out here. We just have to morph again. Something big to snap the bindings, and strong to deal with those guys. Let’s see what else these new powers can really do.”

  In silent agreement, each thought of their own idea of the perfect creature to escape their current quandary. Patrick shut his eyes tight and concentrated. He was thinking of the creatures that had attacked them and wanting to be something big enough to take them on. His bones began to shift beneath his skin as it stretched around his growing frame. His teeth shrunk into his skull as his face grew large. The ropes snapped around Patrick, unable to hold him in this engorged state. With a loud thud, Patrick fell to the ground, teetering yet again on the brink of consciousness.

  As he slowly opened his eyes, he did his best to look down at his body and see what he had become. It was ironic, but he appeared to be a somewhat larger version of the same creatures that had attacked them. Gin-us had turned into a gorilla with fists of fire and Frize was a huge and vicious-looking dog, saliva hanging from his open mouth.

  The three stood there taking in each other’s new forms. Frize laughed at Patrick as Gin-us shifted on his huge paws, clearly more comfortable with having legs over fins.

  “I’m similar enough to them, maybe I can just talk them into leaving? No need for things to get bloody if we don’t need them to. Hopefully, they answer to my size and similarity. If not, be ready to fight.”

  Patrick stood up as Gin-us and Frize nodded their approval. With this new size, his stride was much larger than he was used to. With the first step, Patrick lost his balance and fell hard. His tailbone hit the ground, reverberating up his spine an
d into his brain. With frustration, Patrick got up and tried again. Altering his mind to accept this new pace and strength, Patrick ran to the wall. Just before he slammed into it, he jumped up, ran a few feet up the wall and did a backflip, landing softly on the ground.

  Gin-us and Frize simply stared. “All right,” Patrick said grinning and not caring how ugly it must have looked. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

  The three made their way down the hallway after the creatures. They weren’t hard to find, huddled around a small fire only about fifty yards away.

  “What are you doing in my cave?” Patrick said loudly as he entered the light of the fire, his chest puffed out.

  The ugliest creature turned to Patrick and scrunched up his face, making himself even uglier. “Your cave?! And who do you think you are?”

  “I am your new leader,” Patrick tried sounding as official and menacing as he could.

  The biggest creature scoffed. “Our superior is long dead. We are the only ones left of our kind in this frozen land.”

  “Clearly there is more to this frozen land than you realize. I have been following you for some time, and I want your captives for myself. Leave now, and I will spare you.”

  The three didn’t even flinch. “You can’t possibly overpower us. You may be larger, but there are three of us and only one of you. Strength lies in numbers, don’t forget that.”

  “Gin-us, Frize, can you come out here?”

  Gin-us and Frize came out of the shadows and the three creatures shrank into themselves. The three of them immediately surrendered and in a matter of minutes were tied and no longer a threat. After a brief discussion, they decided to leave the creatures to be dealt with by the Icemen; they could do what they wanted with them. Patrick, Gin-us, and Frize all decided they didn’t need any more blood on their hands.

  The three left the Chamber of History, morphing back to their original forms as they arrived back at camp. Patrick rummaged through his backpack and pulled out his final set of clothing. No more morphing for me, Patrick thought to himself, at least not until I have some more clothes.