Defrost

"They fell in love." A short story of love and war among the clouds.

“What will you do when the war is over, Glen?”

The two men sat back to back in the crow’s nest, eyes fixed on the endless sky for any sign of enemy ships. Cold seeped through their coats, cloud-mist clinging to their hair and dripping down their necks, leaving them damp and shivering as they spoke.

Alvin was Glen’s closest mate. They’d covered each other’s backs more times than either could count. During basics they’d nearly come to blows, but once the battlefield threw them together, and they began surviving the same nightmares of war, any instinct to despise one another had long since burned away.

Glen shifted at the question. Thoughts of home always did this to him, setting off a dull ache in his chest. He saw her silky pink hair, the way her eyes scrunched when she smiled, how she leaned in attentively any time he spoke.

Lillian.

The memory soured, twisting into the image that still haunted him, her tear-streaked face framed by a train window, waving goodbye as fire and ruin swallowed the city around them.

“I’m going to find my girl,” Glen said quietly, eyes dropping to the roiling clouds below as the ship cut through the dense sky. “And I’m gonna hold on to her until I defrost.”

Alvin barked a laugh. “If I had a girl, I’d do the same.”

“You’ll never find one with that face,”

“True,” Alvin replied with a note of sarcasm. “They’d be far too intimidated by my god-like beauty.”

Glen felt an arm lift beside him. He didn’t have to look to know Alvin was probably striking that ridiculous pose of his, jaw tilted just so.

“Whatever you say, Cal.”

“Whatever you say, Cal,” Alvin echoed in mockery. Then he turned back to normal conversation, “So, how’d you two meet?”

“When I was traveling in Furea.”

“Oh my! Your girl’s Furian?” Alvin whistled. “What does she think about you fighting her people?”

Glen swallowed. “I don’t know. We lost contact when the war started.”

“Oh,” Alvin said, the humor draining from his voice.

“Yeah, she’s alive. I know it.”

Alvin snapped to attention, his voice cutting sharp through the wind as he shouted down to the crew below. “Contact! Off the starboard bow!”

Glen twisted around just in time to catch sight of it , a distant shadow, hundreds of feet away, climbing steadily through the clouds. Any trace of exhaustion burned away. He forced his limbs into motion, scrambling down from the crow’s nest, boots striking hard against the ladder before pounding across the deck, every breath braced for what was coming.

Just get through this, he told himself. Then I’ll be home.
Lillian, please be alive.

The clouds thinned suddenly, and for a fleeting moment the sun slipped free. Soft light spilled across the sky, washing it in gentle pastels, blush pink melting into pale blue, peaceful enough to belong to a dream rather than a battlefield. The glow brushed the hull of the ship, it was warm, and it was as if the sky was offering a brief, merciful pause.

It didn’t last.

A bolt of arrow-light shot past his cheek, snapping him back to the present as the enemy vessel emerged in full. It drifted alongside them, its silhouette stark against the painted sky. Along its flank stood a rigid line of mages, hands raised and glowing, already poised to unleash their most devastating magic. He knew that they were dead the moment he saw them, they were out powered.

Curses and shouts rippled across the deck as the crew took in the sight.

“Oh, hell no!” Alvin bellowed. He hefted a cannonball on his own and slammed it into the waiting barrel. “I’m not going down without a fight.”

A smirk tugged at Glen’s mouth as he moved to help. That was Alvin, defiant to the bone, never backing down even when the odds turned cruel and impossible. And it was exactly why Glen trusted him with his life.

Glen grabbed the fuse, sparks biting at his fingers as he leaned in to light the cannon. The world narrowed to heat, smoke, and the pounding of his heart as he went in to aim at the opposing ship. His eyes squinted marking the spot where he would shoot.

He narrowed his eyes, fixing on the point where he meant to fire.

Then a streak of pink cut across his vision, hair ribboning in the light.

“No. No, no, no.”

He knew before his mind could catch up.

Lillian.

She was there.

Aboard the enemy ship.

“Glen! Glen! What are you doing?!” Alvin shouted. “You’re aiming at the clouds!”

Too late. The cannon exploded, the shot vanishing uselessly into the clouds below.

“It’s her!” Glen gasped, pointing across the narrowing gap. “My girl! The one I told you about!”

On the enemy deck, a woman stood shouting orders, her presence commanding the line of battle mages. Glen stared, disbelief twisting in his chest. What was she doing there? She had always been so quiet, so gentle, never in a thousand lifetimes could he have imagined her leading a battlefield like this.

“What?!” Alvin whipped his head around, scanning the enemy deck, but saw nothing.

“I can’t fight her, Al!” Glen’s voice broke, the words tearing out of him. “I can’t.”

“Glen, if we don’t fight, we die!”

“I know,” he said hoarsely.

“Don’t be stupid,” Alvin shot back. “You don’t even know it’s actually her. It’s too far to tell!”

“It’s her,” Glen said, without hesitation. “I know it.”

“Frick…” Alvin dragged a hand through his hair, eyes sweeping the deck around them. Then he saw it, the fear etched into every face, the crew frozen beneath the looming glow of the mages’ gathered fire. Hundreds of men and women, waiting for an order that might save them or doom them.

He swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry, man,” Alvin said quietly. “We can’t let all these people die for one person.” Alvin went to pick up another cannon ball and load it up.

The enemy mages’ magic swelled and the glow intensified.

Glen’s chest tightened as he stared at her silhouette against the light of the sun, the pink of her hair unmistakable even at this distance.

“FIRE!” The breeze seemed to carry her voice across the sky, yes it was definitely her.

The arrows of light tore through the ship like swiss cheese, not even a cannon ball could have stopped them.

Glen, realizing this, climbed on to the cannon arms stretched out. At least I saw her one last time. “LILLIAN CLAIR!” He yelled across the sky, “I LOVE YOU!”

An arrow pierced straight through his chest. Glen staggered once, then fell, his body vanishing into the clouds below, just as the cannonball had moments before.

The fall was peaceful.

As he broke through the dense cloud cover, the world opened into pastel pinks and blues that stretched endlessly beneath him, soft and dreamlike, untouched by smoke or fire. It would have been perfect, he thought distantly…

If it weren’t so cold.

“GLEN!”

Her voice reached him. Then arms wrapped around him, real and solid, pulling him close. The chill began to melt away.

“I love you too!” Lillian yelled over the rush of air whipping past them.

Together, they fell toward the earth, entwined, finally defrosting from the long, bitter cold of war.

Thank you for reading! This was my prompt response to Bradley Ramsey’s Flash Fiction February Day 1: Tell the story of two lovers who find themselves on opposing sides of a large-scale battle.

If you would like to join in the fun check it out!

Flash Fiction February: Week 1 Directory