The Arctic Legend Saga
Book 1: The First Frost
Book 2: The Mystic Land
Book 3: The Rise of the Black Bears
Book 4: The White Crusade
Book 5: The Last Bear
Book 6: The End of Days
Book 1: The First Frost
Book 2: The Mystic Land
Book 3: The Rise of the Black Bears
Book 4: The White Crusade
Book 5: The Last Bear
Book 6: The End of Days
*ATTENTION* This story is based on polar bears from the Arctic. They are not real bears (I wish they were) and neither is the story, so don't be going on trips to the Arctic looking for them and then be coming back saying, "Fireball said that these characters were real!" Since this story is based on polar bears, any polar bear haters will want to leave. I do not appreciate negative, nasty comments, so if you do not obey my orders then I will be forced to use to little button in the corner that says REPORT. I do take constructive criticism though...
Prologue: The Ice Bears Part 1 [7:35p.m.; Blizzard: Unknown Location]
"A cub without a parent is like a cub without a pelt. A cub must have parenthood to live. If not, a cub must have self-control. You must learn to control this. You must learn to control yourself..."
-Zoran the Noble
The young, polar cub stumbled through the raging blizzard surrounding him. He had been stuck in this blizzard for at least an hour, but he couldn't remember where he was or how he got there. One minute he was with his mother learning how to catch fish, the next he had frost all over his white, silky pelt. Had he taken a wrong turn? Where was his mother now?
"Ma?" the cub found himself repeating every five minutes. He would try to find his way out of the blizzard, but each time he tried to, the cub had been walking in circles the entire time. The blizzard seemed never ending.
The cub stopped for a minute to catch his breath. The icy blizzard was causing his lungs to breathe slower and slower. The bear felt as if he might pass out, but if he did then he could die.
The cub sniffled as green snot began to soak down his black snout and to the ground where it then became frozen solid. His mother would have whooped him if she had found out that he was letting his nose run. She would always say 'Wipe those boogers off your face, son! Don't use your pelt, find a stick or ice crystal to wipe it on! A male bear should never let his snout run; it is very impolite and will cause you to not find a beautiful, female bear.'
The bear shivered and blinked. If the blizzard didn't kill him, then the wolves surely would. If he were a strong, older bear like he had always desired, he could easily kill the White Wolves, but alas, he wasn't.
A howling echoed through out the icy blizzard. A sign of wolves, maybe? Or maybe they were coming from passing polar bears howling at the night air. Whatever the case, the cub had to try to find help, or he would be turned into a bear popsicle stick.
The cub listened for the sound. North. It had to be close. The cub rushed through the raging storm, stumbled a few times, and stopped. The howling had stopped.
Shadows of bears walked throughout the wall of ice. The cub rubbed his blue eyes. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? "Hey, wait!" he cried as he rushed at the frosty wall and broke the barrier.
The cub gasped. Instead of seeing clear, white snow, the blizzard continued to surround him. He looked around in shock. No sign of any polar bears or wolves. Maybe he was lost in a never ending storm? Maybe this was a curse for disobeying his mother a few times in the past. His mom had always told him never to disobey your parents, or bad things would happen to you. The cub was beginning to believe this.
A large wall of snow rushed at the cub, covering his pelt and causing the dripping snot to freeze to his face almost instantaneously. The cub sneezed downward, getting the snot all over his fuzzy paws. The cub's temperature was rising; he was getting a fever. If he didn't get out of here soon, then he would die from unhealthiness.