Lightning. Beauty. Destruction. Death.

A black granite headstone stood on the rise of hill. The passing of time had weathered the stone and the inscription upon it was no longer readable. It stood, as it always had, alone, apart from a low stone wall which marked a boundary that existed long ago. Ivy was creeping through the cracks between the rocks and a delicate trailing plant lay thick on the rocky ground, the little blue and white star shaped flowers creating a carpet of wonder.
A circlet of these flowers sat on the headstone, the only reminder that a young man had been there not so long ago. He had sat on the crumbling wall and threaded the ring of willow he had brought with him with the minute perennial flowers. He’d moved to the stone, placing the ring of stars on the headstone and tracing the words with his fingers. Even though he couldn’t read the words, he knew exactly what they said. ‘Lightning. Beauty. Destruction. Death.’ Another flake of gold came off the engraving and he had pocketed it, before picking one last flower and walking down the hill.

***
A century or so earlier, before the headstone had been set, and the star shaped flowers had taken hold, the hill was barren and rocky. One side of the rise had a gentle slope to it, and was covered in spring green turf. The other side was bare rock, with natural steps and overhangs. Hidden in the shadow of a protrusion of rock, the same young man stood, gently massaging his stallion, Jasper’s nose, feeling soft warm breath on his shoulder. Thunder rumbled in the distance but Jasper was used to storms. He stayed perfectly calm.
“Wait here,” Calix, the young man, whispered to his horse.
Calix slowly made his way to the top of the hill. The rock was slippery and dangerous, but Calix knew his path well and made it to the top with only minor scrapes and bruises. The first visible flash of lightning appeared as he reached the top. He sat down, legs crossed, on a little flat patch of grass and waited. He knew it could take hours before the storm was close enough but Calix was content to wait and watch.
Just over an hour later, Calix still hadn’t moved. His eyes were fixed on one point in the distance, as he watched the storm get closer and closer. The thunder and lightning now happened at almost exactly the same time. Suddenly he stood up, in one fluid motion, his eyes flashing with excitement. This time he would see something interesting, he was sure. His golden eyes scanned the sky like a hawk’s, waiting for the next flash.
To Calix, when the flash came, the world exploded in a swirling land of colours. Sometimes the colours made pictures, sometimes they didn’t. They swirled around each other forming the image of a lone sail boat rocking on a multicoloured sea. He saw a glacier carving its slow passage way through the mountain side, and he saw a girl. She was standing on a slender bridge, which seemed to be spun out of silver. A small fast river rushed through the deep gorge below. An elegant city rose up out of the trees behind her, but it wasn’t in focus. She was clear though, clearer than he’d ever seen before. He could see the sparkles of light on her auburn hair, although he couldn’t see where the light was coming from, and he could see the concentration in her eyes as she thought about things while watching the water. She was beautiful.

***
Kyra stood on the bridge watching the autumn leaves float down onto the river, and instantly swept away. She was aware of someone further up the gorge watching her, but she couldn’t see anyone between the vegetation. She focused her senses, and all though she didn’t see what she wanted too, she heard a whispering voice carried on the wind from the trees behind her.
“Kyra…”
She turned, but no-one could be seen. She was sure she had heard something, and didn’t like to be wrong, so she turned away from the river. Besides, she was curious. Who was it that had whispered? Did they whisper her name? Surely someone must have whispered, or was it just a sound from the trees?
She walked off the bridge, her fingers running along the slender railing, and she walked into the small group of trees. At first she found nothing odd, until she noticed the small red mushrooms growing on the forest floor. She ran her fingers over the top of one. Kyra really enjoyed mushrooms, and surely one mushroom couldn’t hurt, even if it was poisonous. She pulled the mushroom out of the soil and a little burst of red dust touched her skin. A shock ran through her, like and electric current. She looked down her arm. It was glowing, and it had turned to red. The colour moved through the rest of her body, and then it started to crackle, like energy or electricity moving just under her skin. She screamed, staring at her fingers, and was gone.

***
The light faded, and Calix looked back at the world around him. He concentrated hard on keeping the image of the girl in his head, hoping that the next flash would show him another vision.
As the lightning struck again his world changed back into the world of colour, he saw the bridge, but the girl was gone. A scream lingered in the air, and he heard it clearly, even though he was just watching the colours. A red tinge seeped through the image until it looked like the whole land was stained with blood. Calix, shocked, tripped out of the vision, and back into the swirling reds, greens and blues. They pulled at his ankles, trying to trip him up. Threads of colour twisted round his arms and neck, and slowly each colour changed, until they were all one colour, blood red.
He panicked, and fought his way out, the image of Japer fixed firmly in his mind. The colours formed hands, trying to pull him back, but he escaped, stumbling on the rocky floor and cutting open his knee. He ran back to where Jasper was, slipping, sliding and stumbling. Leaving the saddle on the floor, he swung his leg over Jasper and urged him off; still frightened he had lost control like that. It had never happened before. He rode bare-back into the night. Calix didn’t notice it, but the storm behind him intensified with his feelings.

***
Kyra’s scream continued, breaking through the world of swirling colours. She shut her mouth and stared around in amazement. The pictures she saw were beautiful, unreal. A figure beckoned her and she followed, going deeper into this strange new place, unaware of the danger she would soon find herself in. The colours formed a long alley way, and at the end was a door. The cloaked figure gestured towards it, his meaning clear. He wanted her to go through. She stepped forward briskly, her hand pausing on the door handle, the cold metal bringing forward doubts which were quickly wiped away by a warm orange colour that settled on her shoulders. The colours gave her a nudge, and she opened the door, falling through into a world that was Calix’s, but not her own.

***
Calix and his horse galloped across the ground, racing through the night. Jasper was excited and pushed harder, he loved to run. Calix focused on the path. His hands were stained with blood from his knee, and they were a constant reminder of what he had seen.
The dawn was breaking on the horizon as Calix returned to his house. He stabled Jasper, rubbing him down and making sure he had food and water, and walked towards the converted mill. As he climbed the stairs his mind ran through all that happened. He turned the threads over and over in his head but they never made sense. How had he lost control like that?
Calix pushed open the living room door and fell into an armchair, putting his head in his hands. He ran over his thoughts again. He must be going mad. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the sunlight was just starting to enter the room. He surveyed the room around him in the morning glow. The walls were a pale cream colour and golden drapes were hanging over the windows. A small log fire was smouldering where Calix had left the fire burning when he had left earlier. The chairs were covered in yellow-orange throws, and there was a golden lightning bolt on the glass coffee table.
It was then that Calix first noticed the brown paper wrapped package lying on the table. He heard a faint rustling sound coming from the parcel, as if whatever was inside had a life of its own. He reached out his hand slowly, nervously and touched the brown paper. It was warmer than it should have been. Grappling with his fear he ripped the paper slowly and found a box inside.

***
Kyra fell through the door onto a soft cold surface, her eyes closed. She opened them slowly, mentally running a check over her body to check she hadn’t hurt anything. Her hip was painful, so she used her right hand to see if it was broken, or only bruising. She touched it and gasped, an intense burst if pain shot through her body. She ran her hand down her leg, feeling the same painful sensation. Every where she touched hurt, and it took her a while to realise that it was her hand she had broken, not anything else. Lifting up her left hand this time, she was satisfied that her hip really was just bruised, and decided that it would be a good time to find out were she was. She looked around.
She didn’t recognize the landscape around her.  The ground was covered in a thick layer of snow. There were a few evergreen trees around her and the snow was covered in pine needles beneath their branches. A large icy archway stood in a wall of ice, as an entrance to what seemed to be a world inside the glacier which was visible just behind. A figure stood in the archway, with his back to Kyra.
“Hello” she called out. “You don’t happen to have any sticks and some cloth, do you?” Kyra tried to get up and winced as she put pressure on her wrist. “Please, I need them now, I’ve broken my wrist.”
“Just inside the door,” the figure answered without turning his head, “there is a cupboard on the right. You’ll find everything you need in there.”
“Thank you,” Kyra whispered, her attention now focused on the arch. It was cold and unwelcoming. She accidentally brushed against the man as she walked through, and she was sure she had felt him shiver with fear. She found the cupboard the figure had talked about a little way into the glacier. It stood on its own and was hanging slightly open. She pulled the door open completely and grabbed some sticks and bandages, wrapping her wrist tightly and efficiently. She looked over the other labels on the top shelf for something that might help the pain. She found bottles of crushed poisons, and flowers that could be put in tea to send people to sleep. Not plants that you found in a normal household.
She panicked and turned away from the cupboard, trying to get outside as quickly as possible. A large rock rolled over the arch, throwing the place into complete darkness. A single note from panpipes echoed through the darkness, and ball of blue light rocketed up to the roof.
The figure turned to her, putting the panpipes back in his pocket. “I’m sorry,” he said, “you can’t leave now.”
   
***
The box was a made of a dark brown wood, maybe mahogany. It had beautiful engravings all over it, and was warm to the touch. It lay in Calix’s hands quivering gently. Calix was afraid to open it, afraid of what it might contain. He flicked the latch and pulled the lid open carefully, aware of every creak of the hinges. He tipped the box over and felt the contents tip into his hand. Inside were a set of panpipes, which were constantly shaking, as if they weren’t happy where they were, a dark green, leather bound book, which had Panpipes and Power written in silver on the front and a piece of paper which said:

DO NOT BLOW INTO THE PANPIPES!
These are not for you. The person they belong with will find you eventually.
Until then, always carry the book and pipes with you.
The book will not open to you, so there is no point in trying.
Just keep them safe,
And keep them hidden.

Calix quickly put the pipes back in the box. He didn’t like the feel of them, they were unnatural to the touch. He ran his fingers over the clasp of the book and pulled. It stayed firmly shut, so he placed that back in the box too. He picked up the paper one more time, and then jumped as it burst into flame. Nobody could read the note now. He would do as it asked and carry the box with him at all times. Satisfied by this resolution, Calix closed the box, and slipped into the largest pocket of his coat. It only just fit, and would be uncomfortable, but it would do.

***
“There is a bed in the corner there, and there are some books and a change of clothes. A bath is slightly further in and you can use it when you like.”
Kyra ran to the door way. She pushed and pushed, trying to get out. But it was no use. The door wouldn’t budge. She screamed in a wild panic, “someone, anyone! Help me!”
“No-one can hear you. Don’t worry.” There was a trace of panic in his voice, but it was for a different reason. He seemed certain she wouldn’t be able to get out. Kyra looked at him, eyes wide, before collapsing on the floor. He came over to her and lifted her up, gently placing her on the bed. He pushed the hair away from her eyes, and kissed her softly, before picking up the last few mushrooms from the counter, and letting the red dust fall onto his arms.

***
“I have done as you asked. She is locked in the glacier. But why do you need her. She is young and can do you no harm. Can’t you let her go?”
A much deeper voice answered, but from no visible location. “I have need of her yet. Here is your payment, as agreed.”
A fountain of round gold coins started to well up out of the floor. Kyra’s captor started to grab at the gold, trying to get as much as possible. Just as quickly as it started the flow stopped. “Go now,” the deep voice ordered, “and keep an eye on her, but don’t let her find out.”

***
Kyra came back to consciousness slowly and looked around. Slowly she got up and went to splash some cold water on her face. As the hours turned into days, and the days into weeks, she got more and more used to her cave, though she would have loved to be outside again. She fell into a daily routine, even though she had no idea what the time was. The light was always constant. Sometimes she heard groaning noises from the ice around. She knew what was happening, the ice was moving. What would happen to her when the ice had moved so much she couldn’t get out the arch anymore? Would she spend the rest of her life in the ice?

***
Calix spent weeks roaming the hills on horseback, waiting for a storm to hit or for this person to reveal him- or herself to him. He always had the box with him, it was normally sitting in a saddle bag, but sometimes he put it in his jacket pocket. It didn’t always stay still, and occasionally he was afraid it would move, and end up somewhere it didn’t belong.

***
Months passed. Calix started to roam further and further. He had started riding South, sleeping under the stars. Kyra was still trapped, but resigned now. She always had everything she need or wanted except the bright beautiful world outside. Kyra’s captor was watching her, careful not to reveal himself to her. He had been forbidden to enter the cave by his master, so the spare set of panpipes he had left behind were untouched. Kyra had searched the cave from head to foot, but found no mushrooms, or anything that might get her back to her own world.

During her search, Kyra had found the spare set of panpipes, but she had left them untouched. She didn’t feel like music. A couple of days later she remembered that it was when she had heard the pipes that things had begun to happen, the door, the light. She rummaged again through the room and picked up the small set in her hand. Hesitantly she picked up the pipes and ran her fingers over each one. They felt wrong, but one pipe seemed better than the others. She put the pipes to her lips and blew hard. A squeak came out, nothing more. She blew again, this time softly trying to concentrate on getting a long clear note. When it came she heard it only for a second, because the rumbling of the bolder moving drowned out all noise.
Light flooded the cave. Kyra closed her eyes and covered them with one arm. Slowly, as she adapted to the light she hadn’t seen for months, she took her arm away and opened her eyes. The land out side was covered in a deep, deep blanket of snow, much thicker than it had been when she first ended up here.  She pushed out into the snow, and in seconds her dress was soaking. She looked around, and then realised she didn’t know which way to go. She sat down, feeling the cold for the first time, and started to rub her arms. Thoughts ran over in her head. Maybe the panpipes had other powers too. Maybe they could take her back. She picked the same pipe as last time and put her lips to it, before realising it felt wrong. Another one felt better. She decided to trust her instincts, and she blew gently into the new pipe. Immediately, she felt a tug and found herself in the land of colours.
This time they pushed, they didn’t want to let her in. It was a struggle to get through the many colours, but she persisted and got to a place were she couldn’t see the door anymore. She closed her hands on the pipes and imagined herself outside the world of swirls and streaks. She tripped and landed on grass. She was out! Standing over her was a big black stallion and the pipes were nowhere to be seen.

***
Calix felt his stallion stop, before he noticed the why. The girl of his vision was lying just by Jasper’s front hooves. He grinned, swinging over his leg over the horse, and then stumbling on the ground in his rush to dismount.
“Hi, umm…. I’m Calix,” he said, silently cursing himself for not thinking of something better to say.
“Hi. My name is Kyra. You haven’t seen any panpipes have you?”
Calix started. How did she know about the panpipes?  He rummaged in his saddlebags, opening the box and just handing her the pipes. “Are these the ones you were looking for?”
Kyra held the pipes in her hand. These fit perfectly. No pipe felt wrong, they all felt just right. They settled down in her hand, and stopped quivering. “No. It wasn’t these ones, but it was a similar set.”
“They look like they belong with you. You keep them. This came with them as well, try and open the book.”
Kyra stared at him for a second, and then did as he asked. The pages fell open on her hand. She glanced at the book, and then looked back at Calix. Where did he get these things? She wondered, but didn’t ask. Calix didn’t say anything about the fact she could open the book, and instead decided to say, “it’s getting dark. Do you have anything you could sleep on?”
Kyra shook her head. “I brought nothing with me.”
“You can have my mat, I’ll sleep on the grass.” Calix tethered Jasper to a tree, and unrolled a mat, spreading it on the ground. “You won’t get wet, it won’t rain tonight.”
“Thank you,” Kyra whispered. She opened the book and lay down. When it got to dark to read, she blew a note on her new pipes and called up a ball of light. Calix asked her if she wanted a blanket, but she was so engrossed she didn’t hear. He brought her one anyway.

***
“You let her escape,” the deep voice rumbled. “You displease me.”
“Please sir, it wasn’t my fault. If you’d only let me go in there to get the panpipes.”
“You shouldn’t have left them there in the first place. Your disloyalty is rewarded with pain. I will find the girl again myself.”
Kyra’s captor suddenly felt as if a thousand knives were sticking into him. He screamed, and the deep voice chuckled. The pain would last a couple of hours, enough time to find the girl and sacrifice her, so he could use her blood to break the magic in between the worlds, and find new feeding grounds.

***
The dawn came with the chirping of birdsong. Kyra looked around her, thankful for the lack of snow. She had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, until she finished the book, and closed with a snap. Her read had been interesting. She now knew the pipes all had names. The deepest one was called Tristis (the Killer) and the highest called Quiesco (the Sleeper). The pipes in between were called Vita (the Life-Giver), Gelidus (the Stiller) and Validus (the Mover). Kyra also found out how to correctly blow the pipes, making sure that she didn’t damage the world around her. She shook Calix gently. “Thank you,” she whispered.

***
If either Calix or Kyra had been watching the land of colours, they would have noticed a dark figure creeping out of the mist. He was cloaked in navy blue, and was rumbling his anger as he went. All the colours avoided him, as if they knew of his power to inflict pain, so apart from the navy cloak he was seen in tones of grey. He strode purposefully, breaking out of the world just a little way away from where Kyra and Calix were discussing the book, and how Kyra should use the pipes, but he couldn’t hear a word they said.
A long thin blade, covered in little marks was brought out from underneath his cloak. He clasped it in one hand, and settled down to watch. His chance came earlier than expected.
Thick clouds were approaching from the east, blown with the strong winds. He saw Calix move as the first roll of thunder from the storm could be heard. He watched Calix tell Kyra what he could see in the lighting and focused his eyes on the storm.
“Find shelter, and tether up Jasper with you” he screamed over the roaring winds.
Kyra moved away from Calix, finding a little cave. That was good, she wouldn’t be able to escape there. He knew she had the pipes, but he didn’t believe she knew how to use them. He wouldn’t wait this time. As soon as he had her, he would slit her throat and spill her blood.
He crept up behind her, making sure he was out of Calix’s view. He revealed himself to Kyra, just as he entered the cave behind her.

***
Kyra thought about how much her life had changed. She used to live a comfortable life, and now she was sleeping rough, hanging around with a boy that wore materials she didn’t even know existed and discovering how to control life with the five pipes she had been given.
She laughed as she tethered Jasper to the cave wall and turned around. There in front of her was a large black shadow of a man, enveloped in a navy blue cloak. He laughed, his voice gravelly, and he reached out with his sword hand to catch her arm and release just a drop of blood.
She stepped back, feeling his sword tear the material down the side of her dress. She pulled her pipes out of her pocket, while the cloaked man laughed. “You want to play some music while you die?” She panicked and blew into her pipes at random, bringing down the rock face. She blew again and this time her opponent froze. She grabbed Jasper’s tether and fumbled at the knot. When she failed to get it undone, she gave up and ran to where Calix was standing.
“There’s a man, he attacked me. Jasper is still in there. I didn’t know what to do!” Kyra panicked. “I’ve got to get Jasper out of there. He’s your horse. You’ve been so kind, and I repay you by leaving your horse behind! I’ll go and get him. I’m so sorry.”
She started to sprint off, but Calix grabbed the back of her dress. “Jasper will be fine, you stay here now.”
“But…”
“No buts. Can you give us any protection?”
She blew hard into the fourth pipe this time, moving a fallen tree into their way for protection. “Can you call the storm closer?” asked Calix.
“I can try.”
She blew into the fourth pipe again and the storm speeded up. It spread out across the sky, surrounding the pair with flashes of lightning. “Where is he?” asked Calix.
“I froze him, he can’t move at the moment. He’ll thaw soon though.”
“I can’t kill him, you’ll have to do that.”
“I could use the deepest pipe, but that would kill you too. I can’t do that!”
“Do it.”
As soon as Calix had said that, a figure appeared over the hill, his blue cloak flapping in the storm. He grew closer, still laughing.
“You won’t escape me. You maybe able to use the pipes, but I have powers you couldn’t dream of.”
“Do it. Do it now,” whispered Calix urgently.  
“I can’t,” whispered Kyra, her voice barely audible.
The figure was still growing closer. She brought the pipes up to her lips, but the man just laughed. “I can do this,” he said with a wave of his arm. Kyra felt the pipes fly out of her hand, landing on the ground a little distance away. She started running but a force field held her where she was. The shadow was laughing hard now. He walked closer with the blade, playing with Kyra. He ran the tip of the blade down her arm, releasing a little rivulet of blood. Kyra gasped, fighting back tears of pain.
“It’s OPEN!” he cried.
He lifted his blade up again, this time towards Kyra’s neck.
“NO!” screamed Calix. His anger flowed up into the heavens, filling him with the raw energy of the lightning. He brought bolt after bolt down onto the shadow, but to no effect. “I’m not strong enough,” he said resigned. He fought to keep the man in place, still striking him with bolts of pure energy. “Go and get your pipes,” he screamed over the howling gale at Kyra.
“No.” she said camly, leaving no room for argument. She walked up to Calix and kissed him gently. She let all her life go into that one kiss and felt Calix drawing on the energy she gave him. The lighting bore down harder, causing the cloaked figure tremendous amounts of pain. He screamed, and the scream echoed all along the valley.
For Kyra the kiss was beautiful, she loved every moment of it. For Calix, the kiss gave him power, and he didn’t think of the kiss in its own right. He bore down harder, crushing the man that had threatened the person he now realised he loved. The stream of lightning was constant, no bolts now, just a solid stream of energy coming out of the heavens.
The two broke apart when they felt the life rush out of the body that stood a little way down the hill. They watched the body crumple, and Kyra collapsed onto the floor at the same time.
“It’s over,” she whispered.
Calix rushed over her. He knew what had happened. He had taken to much life force from her. She was going to die in his arms, and he was going to be her murderer.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Kyra murmured, her voice faint. “Bury me with my pipes, and the sword. Inscribe on my headstone four words. Lightning, Beauty, Destruction, Death. Will you do that?” Calix nodded. “Good” Kyra muttered, she looked up at Calix, and reached towards him. Calix bent forward and the lips slowly met. As they broke apart, she closed her eyes and fell back into the world of colours. She became a single strand of gold, guiding the travellers in the right direction, not into a world in which they didn’t belong.

Calix started crying, tears running down his cheek. He repeated Kyra’s epitaph. “Lightning, Beauty, Destruction, Death.”