End Of The Period

BRRRIIIIIIINNG!

The sound of a horn rang through Bryson Coldwater’s ear. He drank from his water bottle in frustration. You have got to be kidding me. There’s less than a minute left! Bryson fumed as the crowd cheered.

He was currently sitting on the player bench next to the ice rink inside a hockey stadium. He was adorned with a full set of hockey gear with a wire cage helmet over his face. He looked over to the rest of the bench where his team sat. His fellow noble children all wore hockey gear with a logo of an ice dragon on it.

It was winter and Bryson was currently part of an under-eleven noble ice hockey team. He had been forced to be part of what was dubbed the ‘Youth’s Noble Hockey League’, or YNHL, he had managed to avoid being part of this until recently. His mother more specifically pushed him to this, surprisingly she was a hockey fanatic.

Hockey is an extremely popular sport in Wrabuth, played by commoners and nobles alike. It was one of the few popular sports that nobles enjoyed that didn’t use magic, well much magic at least. Ice rinks were easier to maintain with magic.

But none of the players were allowed magic and the equipment was all mundane. It was a way to prove the toughness and athleticism of noble boys raised in the north. Of course, the best players who played on the professional level were all commoner adults. Here hockey was used simply as more bragging rights for noble families.

Unsurprisingly the family with the most exhibition game wins out of any other was the Coldwaters. For the past seven years since Gareth Coldwater first participated whichever team had a Coldwater never lost in their age group. Not for the lack of trying from other teams either. But Duchess Coldwater was clever and built herself an unbeatable team every time.

That was until this year though. Gilles in the under-thirteen game lost a couple of days before. He was the goalie and let in the final penalty shot in. He was given a several-hour-long scolding by his mother afterward.

Bryson shuddered at the thought of having to go through that. He looked up at the scoreboard, it was tied four to four with only fifty-three seconds left in the third period. He did not want to lose, nor did he want to go into overtime.

The other team was still celebrating their recent goal as Bryson’s team the ‘Ice Dragons’ called for a time-out. Duchess Coldwater used this break to move over to bench.

“Boys, what was that?” She asked disapprovingly. “How could you just let them score like that?”

No one was able to look at her and stared at the ground in fear. She’s worse than father. He thought droned his mother’s voice out as he tried to scratch his nose only to find that the fat gloved fingers couldn’t get through his cage helmet.

“Mmm.” Bryson grunted as his mother called him out.

“Bryson!”

“Yes mother?” He replied quickly looking attentive.

“You’re taking the centre.” She ordered.

“Can I not stay as a left wing?”

“Bryson you need to start pulling your weight.”

“I have two assists.” Bryson said lamely.

“But no goal.”

“Those count as two points.” Bryson complained before a look from his mother caused him to relent, “Yes mother.” As he hopped over the barricade and onto the center ice.

As he skated toward the center he looked up and saw Lila and Lottie at a front seat cheering him on. The latter waving a banner with his team’s logo on it. Rolling his eyes, Bryson stopped at the center. Really don’t want to go to overtime. He thought as an opposing team member skated to meet him.

There he was greeted by Frans Snowfield the son of Marquess Snowfield on the other side. Bryson through their brief interactions always found Frans to be loud and way too full of himself.

“Ready be the second Coldwater to lose this year?” Frans taunted.

“You chirp like the world’s ugliest songbird.” Bryson shot back. He earned a sneer from Frans in return. The referee readied the puck as they faced off.

A second later the puck dropped, and Bryson won possession. Passing it over to his teammate Bryson skated forward. He looked up and watch as the seconds ticked by. After the puck got passed around a few times it came back to him.

Now on the opponents end Bryson began to skate toward the goal. Glancing backwards he saw Frans charging towards him. Quickly passing the puck along he dodged the rushing Frans.

“You can’t skate.” Bryson said as he did so.

A few seconds later one of Bryson’s teammates attempted to take a shot, it harmlessly bounced off the goalie. A teammate picked it up after some passing another attempt was made. This time the puck was deflected and landed before Frans feet. Quickly taking the puck he raced off laughing as Bryson tried to chase after him.

“You’re way too slow!” He shouted as he moved the puck towards the other side of the rink, ignoring his teammates who were open to receive the puck.

Suddenly Frans stumbled and the puck was left behind him. Bryson quickly scooped up the puck and raced over to the other side. Frans in hot pursuit.

Where is everyone? Bryson thought as he scanned the area around him, all he saw were the two opposing defenders before him. Ugh, fine. Bryson thought as he new that he had less than thirty seconds left.

He rushed forward, swerving past the first one, spinning around the second defenseman, he readied to face off against the goalie. He could hear Frans approaching him and he doubled his pace.

Once in range he faked a shot, the goalie lunged forward in reaction, exposing the net. Bryson saw in the corner of his eye Fran’s stick creeping forward Bryson quickly fired his shot.

BRRRIIIIIIINNG!

As a panting Frans stared at the puck sitting in the goal, Bryson skated past him.

“See, no skill.” Bryson smirked as he celebrated with his team.

***

“That game was great!” Lottie said happily snacking on a chocolate bar. She along with Lila and Bryson walked through the hall. Bryson had changed out of his hockey gear and they headed out of the stadium. Lila carried the trophy Bryson won.

“I have no idea why you’re even here.” Bryson said.

“Lottie invited me!”

“You realize Gilles could’ve still been here right?” Bryson asked.

“With how Duchess Coldwater dealt with him? I doubt it.” Lila said, “Never realized you were that good at hockey.” She added.

“I guess I managed to inherit the talent.” Bryson said with a shrug.

“You play better than Lottie.”

“Is that even a challenge?”

“Hey! I’ve played since I could run.” Lottie complained.

“Congratulations BryBry.” Viola praised approaching them, “Made up for the Gilles game. Never knew you could skate that well.”

“I just got lucky. I thought you left already?”

“I’m waiting for Sable. She’s in the restroom, we’re suppose to leave together.” She said and a moment later Sable turned the corner.

“There you are Sable, come on the car’s waiting.” Viola said.

“… right.” Sable said quietly after a moment. She slowly began to plod toward them.

“You alright?” Bryson asked looking concerned.

“I’m fine.” She said through gritted teeth. Her breathing was ragged.

“Sable?” Viola now asking in concern.

“I said… I’m fine.” She said with a pale complexion. As Bryson placed a hand on her shoulder she brushed it off and took a step forward before completely collapsing on the floor.

“Sable?!” Bryson shouted as she hit the floor.