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The Current of the Crimson Dunes
Visit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!
Welcome to A Bedtime Story. I'm Matthew Mitchell, and tonight's story is titled The Current of the Crimson Dunes, Part 2 of this week's series: The Static Sands.
The sand-skiff was a marvel of questionable engineering. It looked like a flat-bottomed boat with two large, rotating fans at the back and a sail made of woven copper mesh. As Sadie steered them toward the Crimson Dunes, the skiff hummed with a nervous energy. The amber rod sat in a special cradle Jasper had fashioned out of some old rags, and it seemed to be enjoying the trip. Every time a fan sputtered or a sail line snapped, the rod glowed a little brighter.
"Do you think we have enough bad luck stored up?" Jasper asked, clutching the side of the skiff as they crested a massive dune. The glass beads below them sang as the skiff slid over them, a sound like a thousand tiny bells ringing at once.
"Not even close," Sadie shouted over the roar of the fans. "The Citadel needs a massive surge. We need something big to go wrong. Something spectacular."
"I am not sure I like the sound of that," Jasper muttered. He looked out over the horizon and saw the Crimson Dunes approaching. Unlike the rest of the desert, these dunes were a deep, blood-red color, and they were the hunting grounds of the static-shredders. These were large, bird-like creatures made of jagged metal and discarded wire that fed on the electrical fields of anything that moved.
"Hold on tight," Sadie warned. "The shredders love the sound of fans. They think it is a dinner bell."
Sure enough, a shadow fell over the skiff. A static-shredder, its wingspan wider than the skiff itself, descended from the purple sky. Its body crackled with red electricity, and its beak was a pair of sharpened shears. It let out a metallic screech and dived toward the copper sail.
"Sadie, the sail!" Jasper cried out. The shredder’s beak snapped through the copper mesh, tearing a massive hole in their primary source of propulsion. The skiff groaned and began to lose speed, sliding sideways down a steep dune.
"This is it!" Sadie yelled, her eyes wide with excitement. "Jasper, get the rod ready! The engine is going to fail in three, two, one!"
Right on cue, the left fan exploded in a shower of sparks and loose bolts. The skiff spun out of control, heading straight for a cluster of jagged obsidian rocks. The amber rod was now vibrating so violently that it was humming a low, angry tune. The white spark inside had turned into a swirling miniature sun of pure misfortune.
Jasper grabbed the rod and held it up toward the shredder as the creature prepared for another pass. "I hope this works!" he yelled. He didn't know how to trigger it, but he felt the rod reach out toward the creature. The shredder, sensing the massive energy, tried to bank away, but it was too late.
The rod didn't fire a bolt of lightning. Instead, it released a wave of pure coincidence. The shredder’s left wing suddenly seized up, its own internal wires getting tangled in its tail. At the same moment, the obsidian rocks below them shifted, creating a perfect, sandy ramp that caught the skiff just before it would have crashed. The shredder tumbled out of the sky, landing harmlessly in a soft dune, while the skiff sailed through the air and landed with a heavy thud on the other side of the ridge.
The amber rod was now glowing with an intense, steady light. It had absorbed the bad luck of the engine failure, the torn sail, and the shredder attack, and converted it into a massive reservoir of potential energy.
"We are still alive," Jasper said, checking his limbs to make sure everything was still attached.
"And we have a full charge," Sadie said, pointing at the rod. "But look at the horizon. The great static storm is already starting. We have to reach the Citadel before the main gate locks down for the season."
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By Matthew MitchellVisit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!
Welcome to A Bedtime Story. I'm Matthew Mitchell, and tonight's story is titled The Current of the Crimson Dunes, Part 2 of this week's series: The Static Sands.
The sand-skiff was a marvel of questionable engineering. It looked like a flat-bottomed boat with two large, rotating fans at the back and a sail made of woven copper mesh. As Sadie steered them toward the Crimson Dunes, the skiff hummed with a nervous energy. The amber rod sat in a special cradle Jasper had fashioned out of some old rags, and it seemed to be enjoying the trip. Every time a fan sputtered or a sail line snapped, the rod glowed a little brighter.
"Do you think we have enough bad luck stored up?" Jasper asked, clutching the side of the skiff as they crested a massive dune. The glass beads below them sang as the skiff slid over them, a sound like a thousand tiny bells ringing at once.
"Not even close," Sadie shouted over the roar of the fans. "The Citadel needs a massive surge. We need something big to go wrong. Something spectacular."
"I am not sure I like the sound of that," Jasper muttered. He looked out over the horizon and saw the Crimson Dunes approaching. Unlike the rest of the desert, these dunes were a deep, blood-red color, and they were the hunting grounds of the static-shredders. These were large, bird-like creatures made of jagged metal and discarded wire that fed on the electrical fields of anything that moved.
"Hold on tight," Sadie warned. "The shredders love the sound of fans. They think it is a dinner bell."
Sure enough, a shadow fell over the skiff. A static-shredder, its wingspan wider than the skiff itself, descended from the purple sky. Its body crackled with red electricity, and its beak was a pair of sharpened shears. It let out a metallic screech and dived toward the copper sail.
"Sadie, the sail!" Jasper cried out. The shredder’s beak snapped through the copper mesh, tearing a massive hole in their primary source of propulsion. The skiff groaned and began to lose speed, sliding sideways down a steep dune.
"This is it!" Sadie yelled, her eyes wide with excitement. "Jasper, get the rod ready! The engine is going to fail in three, two, one!"
Right on cue, the left fan exploded in a shower of sparks and loose bolts. The skiff spun out of control, heading straight for a cluster of jagged obsidian rocks. The amber rod was now vibrating so violently that it was humming a low, angry tune. The white spark inside had turned into a swirling miniature sun of pure misfortune.
Jasper grabbed the rod and held it up toward the shredder as the creature prepared for another pass. "I hope this works!" he yelled. He didn't know how to trigger it, but he felt the rod reach out toward the creature. The shredder, sensing the massive energy, tried to bank away, but it was too late.
The rod didn't fire a bolt of lightning. Instead, it released a wave of pure coincidence. The shredder’s left wing suddenly seized up, its own internal wires getting tangled in its tail. At the same moment, the obsidian rocks below them shifted, creating a perfect, sandy ramp that caught the skiff just before it would have crashed. The shredder tumbled out of the sky, landing harmlessly in a soft dune, while the skiff sailed through the air and landed with a heavy thud on the other side of the ridge.
The amber rod was now glowing with an intense, steady light. It had absorbed the bad luck of the engine failure, the torn sail, and the shredder attack, and converted it into a massive reservoir of potential energy.
"We are still alive," Jasper said, checking his limbs to make sure everything was still attached.
"And we have a full charge," Sadie said, pointing at the rod. "But look at the horizon. The great static storm is already starting. We have to reach the Citadel before the main gate locks down for the season."