[attr="class","aurelie_body"]
"Greetings again, High King," Aurelie said, approaching the pistil-shaped throne of the Calyrex beside the Dyna Tree that now flowered in Sootopolis.
"It's good to see you alive again, and well. If it's a story you want..."She swallowed hard and rummaged through her memories for something about truth, ideals, or fire and ice. Slowly, she recalled a legend that her father had told her, involving a smith and a sword. Finding her voice, Aurelie shared it with the Calyrex—perhaps with a few embellishments of her own.
There was once an emperor of Kanto who wished to be able to wield the most powerful weapon in the world, a weapon with the power of the thunderbolt itself. For this weapon, he summoned the finest smith in his empire: a hulking, beastly Cyclops with red hair and one orb-like eye.
"Craft this sword for me," he said to the Cyclops,
"and I will reward you beyond your wildest dreams."But how could even the Cyclops create a weapon so powerful? Such a sword would be surely the stuff of dreams and legends, not reality. But thinking of legends reminded him of the three Legendary birds of Kanto, who embodied the elements of lightning, fire, and ice.
After six months of searching and seeking, the Cyclops finally glimpsed Zapdos soaring overhead as he climbed a high mountaintop. A single feather fell free from its crackling golden wings, and he snatched it swiftly, cherishing the wondrous plume still sparking with electricity. No ordinary metal or other material would serve for a weapon of such power.
No ordinary fire could soften it enough to be shaped with his hammer, either, though. The Cyclops built the biggest, mightiest bonfire he could manage, but even that could barely warm the feather enough to be malleable. He went searching and seeking again.
After a year of wandering, the Cyclops at last beheld Moltres flying over a verdant forest. The fiery heat of its wings set the very trees aflame. No matter how powerfully the wind blew afterward, those fires never went out, and their heat was blazingly intense. This was surely the fire he needed.
Now, though, the Cyclops knew no mundane water or fluid would serve to quench it. Before he heated the feather, he set off again to search for Articuno, sensing somehow that its ice was the only thing cold enough to serve. This pursuit took him three years.
Deep within an ice cave, he found a former nest of Articuno's, along with blocks of ice that its breath had chilled. It took hours, but he managed to wrest one free. The ice never once melted, even under the noontide sun or in the heart of a fire. It sparkled pure and clear, like a diamond: perfect for his needs.
From there, the Cyclops returned to the still-burning forest. He threw the plume into the flames and was able to hammer the still-sparking Zapdos feather into the shape of a sword: a jagged, forked blade that even looked like a lightning bolt. He chanted and whispered incantations in time with his hammer blows, his words falling into a rhythm in harmony with the pattern of his careful, thoughtful strikes.
As his chanting and singing built to a crescendo and the feather glowed white-hot, the Cyclops seized the feather and thrust it upon the block of Articuno ice. Steam rose in clouds, and silence rang in place of the hammering, singing, and chanting.
At last, when it was cooled, the sword was done. No other sword in existence had ever been stronger or finer. The Cyclops lifted it from the smoldering flames and brought it to the emperor, hopeful for a great reward.
"It is indeed perfect. Exactly what I asked of you," the emperor commented, gazing upon the thunderbolt sword with covetous admiration.
"And now I shall reward you—with an ascension. To glory everlasting! Your memory shall live on forever, though you shall not, for you cannot be permitted to live and create such a weapon for anyone else."The emperor reached for the sword's hilt, intending to use it to destroy the cyclops. But such was the raw power of the sword that the merest touch ignited him in seconds, burning his body into a crisp. The blade fell to the ground from the ashes that were his hands, and no one dared approach it.
Bending, the Cyclops retrieved the thunderbolt sword. From behind the throne, the emperor's son stepped forward, looked once at him, and then bowed.
"Only the maker of such a weapon is worthy to wield it," he said.
"I will offer you the reward my father was too foolish to grant. What do you wish, Cyclops?""I wish to keep the blade," replied the Cyclops,
"and to be left alone to craft more wondrous creations, without interference or restriction." The emperor bowed again and decreed that it would be so. The Cyclops departed with the thunderbolt sword, the sole creature in the world who could wield a weapon imbued with the Legendary powers of lightning, fire, and ice.
[attr="class","aurelie_tag"]
Prompt: Tell a story of fire and ice.
Week: 2/2-2/10[newclass=.aurelie img]height:100px;width:100px;padding:15px;border:1px solid #fff;border-radius:100px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.aurelie_lyrics]text-align:center;font-family:verdana;font-size:9px;text-transform:uppercase;color:#eee;letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.aurelie_body]width:420px;padding:40px;background:#222;font-size:14px;line-height:16px;text-align:justify;font-family:calibri;color:#aaa;letter-spacing:.5px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:8px;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);font-size:8px;letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]