Spy Guy: Short Chappy, and a cliffie that you're going to hate me for. meh .:D

I relly hate this new document thingy. It doesn't support my italics if I cut and paste. (because the majority of my stories are in one file.) So I'm sorry if something seems like it should be accented. My apologies. :D

Glossary at the bottom. enjoy. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom.

"Daeir!" D'nni cried, desperately trying to hold on to a crumbling shelf of ice. The cold water lapped against his body, threatening to drag him under.

His hands kept slipping across the ice, his fingers not yet able to grip onto the sleek surface.

"Takihno!" The small boy shrieked, a wave of salt water splashing into his mouth, causing him to choke. Through bleary eyes, he could see a small group of figures running across the snow, quickly reaching him. One was familiar, with a pale blue face contorted by fear.

"D'nni. Gahartla."

Recognizing the figure as Daeir, D'nni weakly reached out for him, his small hand attempting to grasp his father's. Daeir dropped to his knees, reaching out as well, his hand only inches away from his son's.

"Tair." The man whispered. "D'nni, Gahartla." (1)

"Naba." D'nni whimpered, shaking his head. "Daeir, beh vairen." (2)

"Gahartla, D'nni." The older Gla-ki cried, leaning forward. "D'nni."

Suddenly, the ice cracked. The loud sound echoing through the boy's ears. A wave rammed into his side, cold and powerful, taking him in its hold, pulling him down to the depths of the sea. D'nni choked as water poured into his lungs, turning his insides to ice. It was then, that a pair of strong arms circled around him, holding his freezing body close to its chest. He was aware of his half-conscious form being raised through the water and emerging back into the cold air.

The boy felt his body dragged across the smooth ice, as blurred figures gathered around him. Hands pushed against his chest, and he could feel himself heave up the salty water from his lungs. D'nni coughed, finding himself drawn into someone's embrace. Looking up, he could see that it was Daeir, his hair wet, and the silver ring he wore for a crown askew on his head. He was crying, holding his son tight to his body, murmuring a prayer in Gla-ki.

"Jei N'ni." He whimpered. "Beh Dage."

"Nahk, Daeir?" The small boy asked, opening his blurred eyes.

"Dene, Aik?" (3) Daeir asked, his voice cracking.

"Laa." D'nni whispered, tears forming in his stinging eyes. " Ian shriku laa." (4)

"Oh…Jei N'ni." The elder Gla-ki choked, holding his son tighter to his chest.

D'nni lounged on the rug in Jazz's playroom, staring at a massive puzzle spread out before him. Blinking his gray eyes, he set another piece in place, completing the frame. He smiled to himself, reaching over to a can of peaches beside him, stabbing one sharply with a fork. As the boy chewed, he turned his attention to the window. The sky outside was overcast, and the clouds seemed to be arguing amongst themselves, debating whether or not to snow again, or to shower the frozen ground with a spring rain.

Jasmine's small white TV was on in the corner of the room, tuned in to a local weather station. D'nni watched it out of the corner of his eye as he ate his meal and worked on his puzzle.

The puzzle was 5,000 pieces, and it created an artwork of beautiful fruit, including the peaches that he loved. The pieces were so small, and they varied in size, but not shape, making it hard to distinguish one from another. D'nni had watched Maddie struggling with it for weeks, barely managing to place fifty pieces.

He was almost done, rewarding himself for his good work with prizes of canned peaches, just as Maddie and Jack would do. Pausing once more in his work, D'nni took the tin in his pale hands, bringing the rim to his lips, drinking in the sweet syrup. He had never tasted something so sweet. He remembered the warm milk that he was once given when he was sick, and even the small round, sugary treats that the Warm Bloods used to throw at him when they drank their putrid water. The syrup in the can was his favorite, and D'nni always saved the best for last.

Suddenly, his attention was averted from his prize, when a loud sound, akin to a scream, sounded from the TV's small speakers. Instantly, the syrup was forgotten, and he found that his eyes were glued to the screen as he desperately tried to make out the words floating in the scrolling red bar at the bottom.

"That's where they tell you all of the really bad stuff." Jack had said one night, as a massive blizzard closed in around them. "Eventually they'll say it themselves, but first, they have to finish what they've already started."

"They'll say what's down there." D'nni thought to himself, reaching forward to turn up the sound, hoping that the siren wouldn't sound again. The Warm Blood, a beautiful blonde female, finished her trivial report about money, and turned it over to the weatherman, a young, clumsy Warm Blood who seemed too afraid if his shadow to be scary. D'nni found that Lance Thunder was nothing at all like the tough announcer who always yelled. Lance was terrified of making a mistake, and that was what made him funny.

But, on this day, the weatherman was all business, though sweating profusely and playing nervously with his clip-on tie. He introduced himself unnecessarily, and then continued, pointing to a map covered in dark cartoon clouds, ones with strange yellow zigzags beneath them. D'nni cocked his head, setting the empty tin of peaches on the rug.

"Severe thunder storm watch for the Amity Park area. It doesn't look like it could escalate to tornadoes, but it is still advisable to exercise extreme caution."

"Thundstorm? " D'nni asked the screen, feeling the foreign word on his tongue, wondering what it meant.

"Dammit." Vlad cursed, running a hand over his face. Rain pelted down on his windshield, falling in large sheets. His windshield wipers squeaked loudly in protest, the sudden spring rain almost too much for them.

"Déjà vu." The man growled darkly to himself, turning up his bright lights. This was to be his second encounter with the boy, and, just as before, the weather was threatening to push him from the road. Above, a loud peal of thunder boomed, followed by a brilliant flash of lighting that tore through the sky. The man couldn't help but chuckle for a moment.

"The prince has to be terrified." Vlad grinned. "Poor Dage."

He kept a firm grip on the steering wheel, checking from time to time to make sure his great grandfather's journal was still resting on the passenger seat beside him. He quickly ran through various Gla-ki terms in his head, trying to recall the proper way to address the dage. Perhaps a show of respect would win over the boy. Then, maybe he would go back with him…willingly, that is.

The car's headlights cut through the rain, showing the Fenton's long, curving driveway up ahead. Vlad smiled deviously, skillfully turning his car's steering wheel, heading into the dense forest. As the muddy gravel crunched beneath the sleek black tires, Vlad felt a sense of accomplishment, and he found himself turning, once again, to the ring around his finger, adorned with foreign symbols, as wild as the untamed north.

D'nni was almost paralyzed with fear.

It had come so sudden… a loud sound that shook the whole house. He had almost frozen in place, sitting vulnerably in the middle of Jazz's playroom. Finally, reason had returned, and the boy had escaped into his bedroom, fortifying his stronghold with every pillow and blanket in his possession. He flinched at every crack of thunder, and hid from every flash of lighting. It was terror as he had rarely known before. He had discovered a thunderstorm, and realized that they petrified him.

As the rain outside pelted on the window, he was oblivious to the dark black car coming to a stop before the house…

And he was oblivious to the man who stepped out, a smug grin plastered on his face…

glossary.

it's coming up.

but just so you

don't read the end,

and because

numbers

in a line

won't work,

I'm writing this,

pointless stuff.

okay...

Glossary:

1. D'nni, hold on.

2. Daeir, I'm scared.

3. Where's Aik?

4: She fell in the water. (shriku is the sound of ice breaking or cracking. It's commonly accosiated with people falling in the ocean, so...Shriku laa!)