Under fluorescent lights, Snowdrift and Snowblast wandered the labyrinthine corridors of the Moraine Domain full of bubbling, mutual excitement, silver medals glinting in unison.
“You know, I feel bad it wasn’t Snowfall with me, but maybe it’s a good thing we get to be apart. You’re a fun teammate,” mused Snowdrift excitedly. “And now I finally have a medal!”
“It’s a great feeling, isn’t it?” declared Snowblast, giving Snowdrift a friendly nudge. “Seriously, after MS100, you totally deserve it.”
“I mean, you were amazing — I didn’t do much,” Snowdrift laughed dismissively, even as an irrepressible smile overtook them. Twirling and laughing and rejoicing in the joy of victory, it wasn’t troubling to admit the disparity in their scores. It all counted for the same.
“I couldn’t have done it without you! It was you who gave me the strength to succeed, Snowdrift!” Snowblast declared abruptly, not a hint of irony in their voice as it echoed around them.
Snowdrift stopped dead still, leaving Snowblast to briefly roll ahead. “Come on, that’s not true. You’re getting that from some cartoon, I bet.”
Snowblast paused, diffusing the tension with a casual wave. “They did add our scores up.”
Snowdrift didn’t budge. “Will Snowy see it that way?”
At the other end of the corridor, Snowy darted back behind the wall from behind which they had observed the entire conversation. “They were talking about me,” they whispered. “Ugh, I can’t do this anymore.”
“Sure you can,” Snowstorm said. “Just go in like we planned, and say it… I’m proud of you.”
Jump and Bounce didn’t even need to get off the podium to start celebrating.
“So, this podium: it’s the podium of the last M1 season, but reversed, and we’re on top!”
“So, we’re the Hazers?” asked Bounce, giggling at the thought.
Jump nodded. “Yep!”
“Okay, what would the Hazers say right now? Let’s think…” After a moment of contemplation, they forced their face into a steely grimace. “No, you can’t know anything about Mt. Huaze! Even if you ask nicely! You’re too boring to understand its secrets!”
“Oh, very accurate,” giggled Jump, eagerly following Bounce’s lead. “Ah! Help! I can’t push this invisible block!” they cried, miming a vain attempt to shove an imagined object out of the way. Bounce joined them, but even between their combined “strength” it was futile.
“It’s no good… Let’s start sneaking around and observing other marbles instead, hm?” laughed Jump, rolling backwards in an affectation of helplessness.
“I call dibs on the Chocolatiers,” declared Bounce. “Oh, wait, if we’re the Hazers we should spy on the Speeders.”
“Nah, if the Speeders have a fight it’ll be on the news,” countered Jump.
Unbeknownst to the duo, as they chattered about their snooping, they themselves were being observed. Yellow Eye and Green Eye hadn’t even needed to hide themselves to go unnoticed.
“They’re winning by a ten-point margin, but they’re not taking it seriously at all…” Green Eye surmised, pouting. “So embarrassing for us.”
Yellow Eye watched the two get further into the bit with a sneer. “So embarrassing? So what. We’re the ones who’ll hold it.”
“Alright, so, here’s the plan — sneak past them, leave them to their thing, and vanish like we were never there, got it? We didn’t get into their drink-throwing during M1, and we don’t have to do it now.”
Still shrouded in the shadows of the stadium’s backstage, Quacky and Ducky exchanged barely-visible skeptical glances. “Sure they won’t try to involve us? I mean, y’said that their arguments were downright nuclear, yeah?”
Mallard shrugged and waved vaguely, unknowingly narrowly avoiding whacking Billy square in the side. “It’s the best plan I have that doesn’t involve sending Goose in as a distraction, alright?”
“I wish I’d just thrown the shooting section,” Quacky grumbled half-jokingly, just to be admonished with a firm nudge from Ducky, who coughed before beginning to speak.
“Mallard’s right. This doesn’t involve us, and this place smells of paint, so the quicker we leave the better.”
Everyone nodded. Billy, who had been tasked with initiating their escape, drew close to the exit onto the now-emptied out stadium field, and with great hesitation cracked the heavy insulated doors open. Though distant, shouting voices were already audible, confirming what Mallard and Billy had suspected from the start — the Crazy Cat’s Eyes were in an all-out argument with…
…the Savage Speeders? But they’d lost…
All four Green Ducks filtered tentatively out from the backstage and onto the pitch, drowned out by the flinging of insults and unnoticed by either party. As they snuck past, they were able to draw surprisingly close, becoming party to the heated disagreement.
“It doesn’t even matter what you say, because when Quickly gets ahold of you, Velocity, you’re probably getting booted out anyway,” laughed Yellow Eye, a meaner, crooked version of the crowd-pleasing giggle they trotted out during interviews.
“You don’t know anything. Me and coach are cool, yeah? Anyway, I bet it’s your fault somehow, ‘cause I was cracked during training,” retorted Velocity, apparently at ease with the misfire that had stunned their fan crowd into silence.
“We’re allergic to the fur you get everywhere,” Swifty added.
Speedy drew closer to Red Eye, who refused to yield at the imposition. “You won an event everyone knows you excel in. Congratulations. But I don’t think about you when I think about consistency.”
Red Eye bared their fangs. “I’ll make you.”
“Try, then, if you want to embarrass yourself so badly. Prove yourself to me.”
Geez, Quacky thought. How do the twins even stay sane putting up with this all the time? And wasn’t it supposed to be the Snowballs?
It was a good day for a clear night.
During the depths of winter, even the most southerly point of Glidavik experienced but a few hours of daylight each day. Tonight the northern lights were predicted to be out in full force, and Snowy wasn’t going to miss their chance at seeing them without the light pollution of Snoronto interrupting the view.
The Glaciers had offered to take them out to the ice fields on Glacie’s old boat — which meant the Glaciers coming, but that was a small price to pay for getting away from all the other teams, and especially Red Eye. They were mostly talking amongst themselves anyway, rehashing a previous conversation about something-or-other to do with the house.
Despite the season, the waters were gentle, reflecting the sky’s assortment of colors over the deep darkness below. It was nothing new for either team to see the northern lights, but out here, surrounded by the perfect solitude of frigid waters with no phone signal or city lights to intercede, it was indelibly different.
Though they gazed out across the distance towards an imposing plateau of compact ice, Snowy remained vaguely aware of Snowfall’s presence nearby. Whereas Snowstorm would undoubtedly have the confidence to come right up to them, were they not conversing with Snowblast over on the boat’s starboard, Snowfall kept a good, formal distance. Observing their teammate out of the corner of their eye, they felt a sense of gratefulness wash over them. The Snowballs had excelled enough in the skiing portion that they hadn’t needed a bullseye the way the Ducks had, but the Savage Speeders had made themselves a great example of what could happen if the shooter was lulled into a false sense of security. Snowfall hadn’t let that happen.
“Can you see the northern lights in Osnow?” Snowy asked, awkwardly and unexpectedly loud. Snowfall turned slowly, not quite believing that their captain would elect to fill the silence between them.
Eventually they summoned up the confidence to speak. “Yes… But they’re better in my hometown, which is further north. I’m not actually from Osnow originally.”
Snowy found themself nodding along unconsciously, warmed by embarrassment at not knowing previously.
“Well… Go on, then. Tell me about it.”
“Alright, alright — settle down, everyone. Thank you all for your perfect attendance today; it’s great to see. Without further ado, please welcome your speaker for the evening, Fudge!”
As Whizzy departed the stage, the Chocolatiers’ reserve took their place, a harried and dog-eared bundle of notes by their side and a gold medal still looped around them. After a quick mic-check they drew the crowd to attention with a sharp ahem.
“Thanks, Whizzy. I’m honored to be able to speak to you all, and I don’t take it for granted. I’m only the fifth reserve to have medalled in this League, and while mine is the first solo gold, let’s not let that take away from what Ruzzy, Bounce, Snowblast and Sheep have achieved.”
Measured applause began and ended in orderly fashion, in the midst of which Polar turned to their neighbour and murmured, “Are these meetings always this formal?”
“No,” replied Goose, the last to finish clapping. “It’s usually party games.”
“Everyone understands their reserve-hood differently, personally and philosophically,” continued Fudge, “but the reality of being a reserve is that our opportunities are often less and our authority almost always is. We struggle to assert what we want and we often may not get it. Perhaps that’s the trade we make for assuming lesser responsibility in our team — usually — but it can grate, and it may feel that medalling is too distant of a prospect.”
The audience nodded amongst themselves, even those who wore their own medals proudly.
“I was myself mostly relegated to doing duo events; not necessarily because I wanted to, but because my teammates trusted themselves better. But I took charge of my own destiny in qualifiers, and I took charge of it again here, and all of you have the potential to do the same. I hope that next time, when decisions are being made in your team, you won’t forget your own desires, or the potential you have to shape your own career.”
Another round of applause followed, longer and more passionate. Fudge mirrored the audience’s smiles, a marked contrast to their usual self-seriousness.
“Plus, even if you don’t medal, you still might get to go one-to-one with Red Eye.”
Their audience approved even more of that, laughing louder than they had clapped — all except for Murky, who was quiet until Whizzy returned to the stage and the crowd itself had quieted down. “Wait, why were you picking on Red Eye? They don’t deserve that.”
The quiet crowd became briefly silent, and then broke out all at once in a rash of unbridled, shared laughter. Murky turned desperately to the back of the crowd.
“Cyan Eye?” they called out, barely audible, only to find the CCE reserve laughing hardest of anyone, shedding a single tear.
“Sorry, Murky,” apologized Fudge, having left the stage. “It’s just… it’s too funny!”
But why? thought Murky, their mind drifting back to Kinikolu and the tears they lost to the wind.
Credits
- Writer: Millim
- Copyeditor/Editor: Evolution
- References: Marble League 2024 E4 Snow Drag | Jelle’s Marble Runs, Marble League 2024 E5 Biathlon | Jelle’s Marble Runs, MARBLE LEAGUE 2024 E6 Short-track | Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Photo Credits: Jelle’s Marble Runs
- Release: 31/12/2024
Project Marblearth 