Zoeken

Proxx: Het Waterrijk

Hoofdstuk 1: De gestolen bubbel“Uwe majesteit, alles is in orde. De bubbel is nog veilig, het plein is volledig vol en iedereen wacht op het zien van uw dochter.”Maria knikte als antwoord naar haar lijfwacht. “Dank je, Pascal. Neem even een kleine pauze. Tony neemt het wel even over van je.” Pascal, een donkergrijze platvis, knikte en wandelde de troonkamer uit en werd al snel vervangen door een bruine platvis, Tony. Hij was een iets wat oudere vis, maar hield van zijn job. “Uwe majesteit, het is tijd.” Maria knikte en stond op. Ze volgde Tony naar het balkon dat uitkeek op het waterrijk en de menigte die zich verzameld had. De juichende vissen en waternimfen werden stil. “Mijn vrienden, familie. Welkom. Ik zou jullie willen bedanken voor jullie komst. Zoals jullie weten zal er spoedig een troonopvolgster zijn die het van me zal overnemen. Het is een moment van zowel vreugde als verdriet, want het markeert het einde van een tijdperk waarin ik deze kroon droeg met trots en vastberadenheid.Toen ik mijn plaats op de troon innam, was ik misschien niet klaar voor de verantwoordelijkheid die het met zich meebracht. Maar ik leerde dat leiderschap niet gaat over macht, maar over het dienen van de volgelingen die je hebt beloofd te beschermen. Het gaat niet over de rijkdom van de kroon, maar over de kracht die je vindt in de eenheid van je volk.Vandaag is een moment van overgang, maar ook van hoop. Het is met een hart vol trots en liefde dat ik jullie mijn opvolgster voorstel, de toekomst van ons koninkrijk. Mijn dochter, het nieuwe licht van ons volk, die geboren is uit de oceaan zelf.Zij is nog jong, maar haar ziel is sterk. Haar ogen weerspiegelen de diepste wateren van ons rijk, en haar stem zal de bries van de zee volgen. Haar pad is dat van de oceaan: een pad van mysteries, van kracht en van vreugde. Ze is een dochter van het water, verbonden met alle wezens die onder het oppervlak leven – de vissen, de nimfen, de zeemonsters die ons rijk in al zijn glorie bevolken.Met haar aan de helm zal de zee niet langer slechts een kracht zijn om te vrezen, maar een bron van inspiratie. Mijn dochter, die zich met wijsheid en moed zal tonen, zal in alles de balans bewaren hier in de oceaan. Ze zal ons leiden met een hart vol compassie, een geest vol vastberadenheid, en een ziel geworteld in de diepste oceanen.In deze tijd van verandering wil ik jullie geruststellen: de toekomst is in goede handen. De zee, die alles omhelst, zal haar leiden. Jullie zullen haar pad volgen, zoals jullie het mijne volgden. Haar leiderschap zal niet van mij zijn, maar van ons allen. Want het volk van de oceaan en het land is één, en in dat eenheid vinden we onze ware kracht.Laat ons niet in angst staan voor wat komt, maar in vertrouwen en vastberadenheid. De toekomst is als de oceaan: soms kalm en vredig, soms woelig en onvoorspelbaar. Maar met de juiste koers zullen we altijd blijven drijven, altijd vooruit.Laten we deze dag niet enkel zien als een afscheid, maar als een nieuw begin. De kracht ligt in jullie handen. De verantwoordelijkheid ligt bij jullie. En ik ben er trots op dat ik heb mogen dienen. Moge onze toekomst helder zijn en ons pad recht.”Terwijl koningin Maria haar emotionele speech gaf aan het zeevolk, ging Pascal de bubbel met de nieuwe prinses halen. Als een waternimf geboren wordt, wordt deze omhuld door een bubbel die de baby beschermd en warmte biedt. Pascal wandelde de kamer binnen en deed het licht aan. Zijn ogen vielen op het open raam. “Had ik die niet gesloten?” vroeg Pascal zich af. Hij liet een kreet horen, waardoor andere wachters naar hem toe renden. “Pascal, wat is het probleem? We hoorden je schreeuwen…” De wachter werden stil, paniek duidelijk in hun ogen. De bubbel met de nieuwe prinses was weg. Gestolen.“Verwittig de koningin. Er is geen reden tot paniek. De dader kan niet ver zijn. Wie dit op zijn geweten heeft zal hard gestraft worden,” zei Pascal streng tegen de andere wachters. Ze knikten en één van hen zwom naar de koningin. “Uh, uwe majesteit? We hebben een klein probleem,” fluisterde hij in haar oor. Maria stopte haar speech en keek de wachter aan.“Hoe bedoelt u?” “Geen paniek, mevrouw Maria. Mijn collega’s doen er alles aan om haar te vinden. Het lijkt erop dat er bij u ingebroken is.” De koningin keek vol angst terug naar het publiek vooraleer de wachter haar mee nam naar binnen. “U neemt mij te zeggen dat iemand ingebroken heeft en mijn kind gekidnapt heeft? Wie doet nu zo iets? Ze is nog maar een baby!” De koningin huilde. “We doen er alles aan om haar zo spoedig mogelijk terug te vinden.”Buiten was de menigte van vissen en waternimfen bezorgd. “Wat zou er zijn, denk je?” vroeg een kabeljauw. “Geen idee, maar het zag er niet goed uit. Heb je gezien hoe haar gezicht veranderde?” vroeg een waternimf.Vele vragen kwamen naar boven over wat er aan de hand zou zijn. “Wat als de koningin gewoon de rest van haar speech vergeten is en de wachters hebben haar script gevonden?” Enkele lachten met de grap van de zwaardvis. “Nee, ik denk dat dit is wat er aan de hand is. Het zag er wel nog serieus uit,” antwoorde een andere waternimf. Er was duidelijk lichte paniek bij de menigte. Hun koningin werd niet zomaar terug naar binnen begeleid door enkele van haar lijfwachters als het niets ernstigs zou zijn.Stevige voetstappen van 2 waternimfen renden door de hal, tot ze de troonkamer bereikten. Pascal, Tony en de koningin keken beide mannen aan. “Uwe majesteit, wij hebben uw oproep gehoord,” zei de groene waternimf. “En we zijn hier om u te vermelden dat vandaag onze vrije dag is…maar we een uitzondering maken voor u, gezien de ernst van de situatie,” zei de tweede, gele waternimf. “Ah, de gebroeders Oscar en Paul,” zei de koningin. Oscar en Paul waren zeer bekend in het waterrijk om het obsessie met de mens “Sherlock”. Zo erg zelfs dat ze dezelfde job op hun genomen hebben. Ze waren erg goed in hun vak. Alles wat vermist was, werd teruggevonden. Tenminste, als het niet ging over eten."En jullie zijn zeker dat jullie mijn 2 kilo zeekraal zullen vinden? Ik weet enkel dat de dief die richting uit ging," zei een jonge waternimf tegen de twee broers, haar stem trilde van ongeduld. Haar handen kniknepen om de mand met zeesterren die ze droeg, terwijl ze haar ogen op de horizon fixeerden."Geen zorgen, jongedame," antwoordde Paul met een geruststellende glimlach. "Uw eten zal zo spoedig mogelijk bij u terug zijn."Oscar knikte vastbesloten. "We zullen de dader vinden en de zeekraal veilig terugbrengen."De waternimf keek hen nog een keer van top tot teen aan, alsof ze hen zonder woorden beoordeelde. "Ik vertrouw jullie. Maar wees snel," zei ze voordat ze zich omdraaide en in de schaduw van de rotsen verdween.Zonder verdere woorden doken de broers het koele, diepe water in, hun ademhaling al rustig en kalm, hun ogen scherp op de omgeving. Het onderwaterbos van zeewier was dicht begroeid, de paden werden moeilijker en de rotsen lagen overal in de weg. Maar ze volgden de aanwijzingen van de nimf, tot ze een oud, gezonken schip bereikten. De boeg was bedekt met een dikke laag zeepokken, en de zeewier slierten lagen over het wrak als een bed van roestige veren."Je denkt niet serieus dat iemand hier zijn buit heeft verborgen, hè?" vroeg Oscar, zijn stem klonk een beetje sceptisch terwijl hij door de roestige planken van het schip ploeterde."Dit is de perfecte plek om iets te verstoppen. Als iemand weet hoe je een schip kunt verstoppen, is het wel iemand die zich met diefstal bezighoudt," antwoordde Paul. "Blijf zoeken."En daar, in de schaduw van een instortende mast, vonden ze de dief. Hij was niet bepaald de grootste of de snelste, maar zijn tas zat vol met wat duidelijk de gestolen zeekraal moest zijn."Aha!" riep Paul, zijn ogen glinsterend van vastberadenheid. "We hebben je!"De dief probeerde te vluchten, maar de broers waren snel. Ze omsingelden hem, bonden hem vast en namen de tas met zeekraal in beslag."Je zult niet ver komen," zei Oscar met een grijns. "Het is tijd om terug te keren."De broers zwommen een tijdje in stilte, hun ogen gericht op het pad terug. Maar na een tijdje voelde Oscar een lichte rammeling in zijn maag. "Hé, Paul... van dat onderzoeken heb ik eigenlijk wel een beetje honger gekregen," zei hij, terwijl hij zijn handen door het water bewoog.Paul keek naar zijn broer en rolde met zijn ogen. "Jij niet alleen, broer. We hebben hard gewerkt."Ze vonden een rustige plek tussen de rotsen, waar het water kalm was en het zonlicht door de wateroppervlakte scheen. Ze hadden de tas met zeekraal bij zich, en hoewel het misschien geen royale maaltijd was, was het genoeg om even hun honger te stillen."Waarom wachten? We hebben het verdiend," zei Oscar, terwijl hij een hand vol zeekraal naar zijn mond bracht. Paul volgde zijn voorbeeld, en binnen een paar minuten waren ze de hele tas door aan het werken. Het was misschien niet ideaal, maar het smaakte goed genoeg voor hen.Ze gingen pas verder toen de tas leeg was en hun honger gestild was.Toen ze uiteindelijk terugkwamen bij de jonge waternimf, stond ze daar, duidelijk nerveus en vol verwachting. Maar zodra ze hen zag aankomen, viel haar blik meteen op de lege tas in hun handen, en haar gezicht veranderde onmiddellijk van bezorgd naar woedend. "Wat... wat hebben jullie gedaan?" vroeg ze, haar stem scherp van ongenoegen.Oscar zuchtte en maakte een verontschuldigende gebaar. "Jongedame, we hebben goed nieuws… en niet zo’n goed nieuws.""Het goede nieuws," zei Paul, "is dat de dader is gearresteerd en achter tralies wordt gezet.""Het slechte nieuws," vervolgde Oscar, zijn ogen ontwijkend, "is dat we op weg naar u… een beetje honger kregen."De nimf fronste, haar lippen trilden van frustratie. "Je hebt wat gegeten?" zei ze, haar stem veel strakker dan tevoren. "Mijn zeekraal?"Oscar probeerde het goed te maken. "Het was gewoon een beetje… je weet wel, een noodzaak. We hadden echt geen andere keus."De waternimf keek hen met een blik die scherp genoeg was om schelpen in het water te laten barsten. "Jullie twee..." Ze sloeg haar handen in het water, wat een plas schuim deed opborrelen. "Ik had speciaal voor die zeekraal gezorgd!"Oscar krabde ongemakkelijk achter zijn oor. "We weten het, we weten het. Het was fout van ons. Maar hé, we hebben de dief wel gevangen, toch?"Oscar glimlachte bij de oude herinnering en nam een blad zeewier en een kleine tritonshoornschelp en begon met schrijven. “Dus, we zijn op zoek naar een lichtblauwe bubbel met een baby.”“Een koninklijke baby,” verbeterde Paul hem. “En meneer Pascal, u kwam in deze kamer en zag dat het raam open stond?” Pascal knikte op de vraag van Oscar. “Interessant,” antwoorde hij en schreef dit neer op het stuk zeewier. “Was het enkel de baby die gestolen werd, of zijn er andere voorwerpen ook vermist? Want dat rekenen we apart op onze factuur,” grapte Oscar. De koningin lachte niet. Haar blik ijzig en killig. “Nee. Enkel mijn kind is verdwenen,” antwoorde ze de twee broers serieus. Ook dat werd genoteerd. Terwijl Oscar de notities schreef ging Paul kijken bij het raam. “Ah! Het raam is open getrokken.” Zijn broer schreef ook dat op. “En schrijf ook op dat het glas uit het raam weg is, vermoedelijk door de dader.”Ook dat schreef de broer neer. Al snel had Oscar alles neergeschreven op het stuk zeewier. “Zoals ik het zo een beetje bekijk…” startte Paul en keek naar Pascal en de koningin. “…zijn jullie de pineut. Maar! We doen ons best voor u, majesteit.”Oscar stak zijn schrijfschelp weg en at het zeewier waar de notities op geschreven stonden op. “Laten we gelijk van start gaan. De dader kan niet ver zijn gekomen.”Terwijl de twee broers door het opengebroken raam zwommen, op zoek naar de dader, zuchtte Pascal. “We zijn verdoemd.”   Hoofdstuk 2: De zoektocht“Wie steelt er nu een baby? Ze krijsen, ze huilen en ze stoppen niet als je het hen vraagt,” zei Oscar tegen zijn broer. “En het ergste van alles, als ze een boodschap doen kuisen ze het zelf niet op.” Beide broers draaiden met hun ogen. Het was duidelijk dat ze de zoektocht niet naar hun zin deden, maar het betaalde wel goed. “Wel goed dat de koningin ons dubbel betaald ervoor,” zei Paul met een kleine lach.“Ach, al bij al is het zo erg nog niet. Kijk eens om je heen in wat voor een pracht we zoeken.” De omgeving was gevuld met vervuild water, afval, enkele botten en hier en daar een brokstuk. “Niets verontrustends aan,” zei Oscar sarcastisch voor hij stopte in zijn voetsporen. “Oh, en laten we niet vergeten dat dit de favoriete plek is van de Kraken. Echt, we moeten hem een naam geven…”Paul bleef stil staan. “Ja, we hebben ver genoeg gezocht, we gaan maar weer eens terug.” Zijn broer draaide hem om en keek hem aan. “Maar we zijn hier pas. Denk aan het geld, Paul.” “Maar,” startte Paul. “Kom nu toch,” antwoorde zijn broer hem.Paul wees naar waar hij iets zag bewegen in het donker. Ook Oscar keek naar waar zijn broer wees en nam enkele stappen terug. “Oh….hallo daar Henry,” zei Oscar bang en ging naast zijn broer staan. “Henry?” vroeg Paul zijn broer.“Ja. Ik dacht, geef ik hem nou maar de naam Henry.” Paul draaide met zijn ogen en antwoordde. “Ik denk dat we het geld mogen vergeten.”“Denk je? Tussen leven en kraken voer worden weet ik wel wat ik kies hoor…” zei Oscar bang. Het bewegend dier kwam langzaam dichterbij en bewoog al dansend over het zeebed. Een grote schaduw van het dier viel over hen en ze slikten in angst. “Ik denk dat we maar eens moeten gaan,” zei Oscar en nam een stap achteruit.Ook zijn broer knikte en volgde hem. Iets later verdween de grote schaduw kwam het dier in zicht.Een kleine octopus.“Ah, die is zo schattig!” Paul ging naar de kleine octopus en aaide hem. “Kijk dan toch! Dit is toch totaal niet gevaarlijk,” vroeg Oscar en ging ook op zijn knieën zitten om het dier te aaien.“Ik denk dat ik jou Henry De Kleine noem.” Zijn broer keek hem aan. “Serieus? Naar dat zeemonster,” vroeg Paul aan zijn broer.“Maar kijk dan toch!” riep Oscar met een brede lach.“Hij is zo schattig! Maar serieus? Henry De Kleine?” zei Paul serieus tegen zijn broer.“Hé, ik zag hem eerst, dus ik mag hem noemen.”“Maar wie zegt er dat het een jongen is, hm? Het kan ook een meisje zijn.” Paul gaf een kleine tik tegen het achterhoofd van Oscar. “Dan is het Henrina De Kleine.” Oscar lachtte. Al snel had de kleine octopus Oscar geadopteerd in plaats van andersom. Paul merkte al snel het grotere dier op die snel hun richting uitkwam. Oscar had de grote overlappende schaduw die over hem viel nog niet opgemerkt, en bleef de kleine octopus aaien.  “Wie is een flinke octopus? Jij! Ja jij!”Paul zag een beweging hun richting uitkomen. “Oscar…”Zijn broer keek op en zag de beweging nu ook. Hij liet de kleine octopus met rust en focuste. “Uh…nog een kleine octopus?”“Geen idee,” zei Paul, maar hij was op zijn hoede. Twee rode ogen keken hun aan en met een kreet renden beide broers weg. Oscar keerde nog even terug om de kleine octopus op te nemen om er dan terug schreeuwend vandoor te gaan.“Waarom heb je die kleine nu mee?!” riep Paul in volle paniek “Geen idee!” riep Oscar terug naar zijn broer. “Wat als dat het kind van dat monster is?! Wat dan?!” riep Paul zijn broer achterna.“Dan hebben we toch een baby vast?! Is dat niet waar we ook naar op zoek zijn?!”Paul stopte en keek zijn broer aan met een serieuze blik. “Maat, serieus? Ziet dit er uit als een bubbel? Ziet het er uit als een nimf? Nee? Zet het dan terug!” Door het hysterisch geroep van Paul kwam de kraken alsmaar dichter en dichter. Oscar zette de kleine octopus terug neer en zette het op een lopen. Achter hen konden ze het gelach van een kind horen. “Hé, denk je dat-“ “Kijk uit!” riep Paul naar zijn broer als een tentakel hem probeerde te pakken. Oscar kon net de tentakel ontwijken. “Nee, maar hoorde je dat net ook?” “Wat?!” Het was duidelijk dat zijn broer niet echt blij was hoe de situatie uit de hand gelopen is. “Dat gelach. Denk je dat Henrina ons uitlacht?” vroeg Oscar opeens serieus.“Doe niet zo onnozel! Het is een vis!” “Het is een G.O.W! Groot ongewerveld weekdier-“ Oscar corrigeerde zijn broer.Beide broers hadden het territorium van de kraken, die zij “Henry” noemden, verlaten en kwamen terug op adem.“Ik zweer het je, ik hoorde gelach.” Oscar bleef maar aanhalen dat hij het gelach van een kind hoorde. “Och, man. Je beeld het je gewoon in. Net als die keer dat je zweerde dat de held zeehond Rompus jou naam noemde wanneer hij zei dat iemand hem gered had van Bruno de Witte.”“Oké, ik geef toe….ik had dat verhaal wat veranderd om er goed uit te zien en over te komen dat ik een witte haai aankan,” vertelde Oscar als excuus.“Maar dat is het hem juist. Het is nooit gebeurd. Dat komt vanuit een film die de mensen gemaakt hebben voor hun guppy’s over hoe zij denken dat onze wereld eruit zien. Ooit al eens een carwash gezien hier? Wat is dat zelfs? Is het een dier? Een mensensoort?”Oscar keek zijn broer raar aan. “Hoe weet jij waar die film over gaat?”“Euh….een gokje? Kijk, het maakt niet uit hoe ik het weet. Het feit alleen al dat ik het weet-““Hé kijk daar. Een kleine.” Oscar onderbrak zijn broer en wees naar wat eruit zag als een kleine vis die net uit een pikdonkere kloof tussen twee hoge rotsen in het water zwom. Paul zuchtte. “Wat heeft dat nu weer te maken met-““Alles,” zei Oscar fluisterend en zwom naar de kloof. Zijn broer volgde hem. “Os, heb je wel enig idee welke kloof dit is?”Oscar zwom de kloof in. Paul riep hem nogmaals achterna. “Oscar, kom nou gewoon terug! Het is te gevaarlijk! Dat is de kloof van-““Van Leviathan, weet ik!” riep de andere broer terug. De kloof van Leviathan, gekend door twee uitstekende rotsen die leken op schedels. Dat alleen was al een stille waarschuwing. Wie betreed keert niet meer terug. Het water, in tegenstelling tot wat erbuiten was, was pikzwart. Het was als een doolhof in het donker waar enkel geluid je enige navigatiemogelijkheid is… alsook was het de slaapplaats van het oudste zeemonster. “Oscar! Keer toch terug, man!” smeekte Paul. “Ik weet wat ik doe hoor! Maak je nou geen zorgen,” riep Oscar terug en zwom dieper de kloof in. Paul, vanop het oppervlak van de kloof, schudde zijn hoofd. “Vader zei ons vroeger dat één van ons een genie is… en de ander is een banale clown. En ik begin stillaan te begrijpen wie wie is.”Paul’s stem werd alsmaar stiller en stiller, terwijl Oscar bleef praten tegen zichzelf. Er is geen zekerheid of het spreken tegen zichzelf hem een genie maakt om de weg terug te vinden… of een complete gestoorde malloot. “For every mile I walk, every race I lost-“ Hij begon het lied die gezongen werd door een mens genaamd Natalia op het oppervlak te zingen, tot een gegrom hem tot stilte bracht.“Niet jou smaak? Nou, smaken verschillen.” Opnieuw klonk een diepe grom. “Doe niet zo. Shark-ira heeft ook zo haar minpunten.” Shark-ira, een vrouwelijke haai die, in plaats van jagen op eten, het leven doorgaat als een zingende haai. “Als ik mezelf wil zijn, doe ik mee met de meerminnen. Pas dan ben ik wie ik ben,” zei de zingende haai ooit in een interview. Oscar begreep er niets van. Het bleek een trend te zijn, kennelijk. Hij wist nog dat hij de grap aanhaalde bij het interview door te zeggen “En ik voel me als een mens maar je ziet mij niet met voetkleren lopen,” waardoor hij kwade blikken kreeg van enkele andere zeedieren. Hij begreep er niets van, nu nog steeds niet. Het gegrom klonk nogmaals. “Hoe kan ik dat nou weten? Ik ben er zelf naar op zoek.” Een geheime gave van Oscar waar zijn broer niet vanaf weet is dat hij de taal van de oudste zeedieren geleerd heeft en het dus vloeiend verstaat. “Als je haar ook zoekt, waarom help je me dan niet?”Net buiten de kloof was Paul aan het ijsberen. “Tuurlijk! Laten we de kloof van Leviathan ingaan! Niets mis mee! Enkel dat we opgeslorpt worden door het donkere gat daarbeneden!” Paul liet een zucht horen. “Hé, vergeet het maar dat ik je kom zoeken! Hoor je me?! We hebben een job om te doen! Een goed betaalde job!”Hij riep in de kloof, maar er kwam geen antwoord voor een lange duur. Dat was tot Oscar terug opzwom. “Hé, je gelooft het nooit!”“Vergeet het! Ik ga de kloof niet in-“ riep Paul naar zijn broer.“Leviathan weet waar de baby is.” Dit zorgde ervoor dat Paul zweeg. “Wat…?” Paul keek zijn broer stomverbaasd aan. Zei hei nu net-“Ja! Leviathan-“ “Leviathan is onze god! Een mythe! Een verhaal dat ze aan guppy’s vertellen om hier weg te blijven omdat, wie erin gaat, er niet meer uitkomt. Leviathan bestaat niet. Hier een kleine geschiedenisles voor je. Punt één: Zeemonsters, behalve de Kraken, zijn uitgestorven samen met hun soortgenoten op het land. Punt twee: Leviathan heeft een enorme grootte, waarvoor deze kloof te klein is. En punt drie…“ Oscar zette een brede glimlach op. “Waarom lach je zo? Je lacht nooit zo. Stop daarmee-“ maar Paul werd onderbroken door een grote snoet die uit het donkere water omhoog kwam.“Wat op de donkerste plek in de zeven zeeën is dat?!” Oscar bleef zijn glimlach behouden. “Dat, mijn broer, is Leviathan.” Paul keek hem met een open mond aan. “Oh mijn Leviathan-“ Paul bewonderde de gigantische kop. “Exact! En hij weet waar de baby is. Of niet soms, vriend?” Het gigantische lichaam van Leviathan kwam nu helemaal tevoorschijn. Een lang, zwart lichaam met schubben zo sterk dat zelfs de sterkste wapens van het paleis het niet konden doordringen zwom de kloof uit. Vier grote ogen draaiden Paul’s richting uit en keken hem aan. Rond zijn hals had Leviathan zeven tentakels, één voor iedere zee. De twee grote tanden die uitstaken uit zijn mond waren de lengte van vier nimfen als die op elkaars schouders zouden staan. Leviathan gebruikte zijn volledige lichaamslengte om de kloof uit te komen.Wanneer zijn staart eindelijk, na een lange tijd wachten, de kloof uit was, merkte Paul al snel op dat iets of iemand de staart van Leviathan vasthield. Hij keek wat beter en keek zijn broer aan met grote ogen. Zelfs zijn snor strekte volledig uit.“Os,” begon Paul voor hij onderbroken werd door een diepe lange grom van Leviathan. “Kijk naar zijn staart.”Oscar luisterde naar het gegrom en keek zijn broer aan. Hij streelde over zijn stoppelbaard. “Leviathan zegt dat je hem gewekt hebt en dat je spijt zult hebben…”Leviathan gromde opnieuw, waardoor Oscar zichzelf corrigeerde. “Ah, mijn excuses. Hij zei dat we beiden zullen spijt hebben en beide zeven jaar ongeluk.”Paul wees naar de staart van Leviathan. “Os, kijk naar zijn staart…” Oscar keek naar de staart van het gigantisch zeemonster dat nu boven hem zwom. “Hé, daar hangt iemand aan. Het lijkt erop dat het Leviathan niet veel kan schelen.” Oscar riep naar de zeegod. “Levi! Er hangt iemand aan je staart!” Paul sloeg zijn hand in zijn gezicht vooraleer hij zijn broer bij de schouders nam en door elkaar schudde. “Dat is de prinses, jij malloot!”Leviathan pikte het geluid van het gelach van een kind op en met een soepele beweging sloeg hij zijn staart op en neer. De prinses verloor haar grip op de staart van het zeemonster en vloog het zeewier bos in.Beide broers slaakten een kreet. Paul was de eerste die zo snel als hij kon richting het zeewier bos zwom. Het lag op enkele kilometers van de kloof van Leviathan.Oscar volgde zijn broer, maar keerde snel even terug naar de nu kwade zeegod Leviathan. “Ons excuses, meneer Leviathan. Het was onze bedoeling niet om u te wekken uit uw zomerslaap. Maar we zijn op een missie. Een zeer speciale en dringende missie. We zoeken de dochter van koningin Maria Aqua die eigenlijk aan uw staart hing. U euh… gaat ons toch niet echt zeven jaar ongeluk toebrengen?”Leviathan richtte zijn vier ogen op Oscar en liet een grom horen. “Ah, u bent maar aan het dollen. Ik houd van uw humor, heer Leviathan. Het was een eer u te ontmoeten.”Paul riep hem achterna vanop een afstand. Oscar zwom zo snel als hij kon naar zijn broer en volgde hem het zeewier bos in.Het bos was zo dik dat Oscar het niet kon laten om er een grap over te maken. “Weet je… de menswezens hebben hier een gezegde over. Iets met een bos niet door bomen kunnen zien. Geen idee wat een boom is, maar het klinkt heerlijk.” Paul was stil en was gefocust op het vinden van de prinses.“De prinses is niet langer meer in haar bubbel, dus ze is vatbaarder voor de kou en het leven hier in de oceaan die haar iets willen aandoen. Dus Oscar, zou het nu werkelijk iets pijn doen om je wat te focussen? Je weet dat de koningin niet graag heeft dat er over die menswezens gesproken wordt.” Oscar zuchtte en draaide met zijn ogen. “Ja, ja. Ik weet het. Maar ze is hier niet. Dus hoe gaat ze controleren wanneer we erover spreken en wanneer niet? Heeft ze hier ergens wachters op post staan, ofzo?” Paul bleef door het zeewier heen zwemmen, hopende de prinses snel terug te vinden. “Als we nu maar niet te laat zijn.”   Hoofdstuk 3: Maria AquaTerug op het paleis was Pascal, de hoofdlijfwachter van de koningin, in gesprek met Tony, vlak voor de gesloten deur naar de kamer van de koningin. “Ik weet dat het geen goed idee was, maar die broers zijn de enige hoop die we hebben om de prinses terug te vinden. Hare majesteit heeft haar kamer nog steeds niet verlaten sinds er bekend is dat haar dochter gevisnapt is.”Tony knikte met een zucht. “Het was het beste dat je kon doen, weet je?” Tony keek naar de gesloten deur. Een donkerblauwe deur met een grote blauwe saffier in het midden. De edelsteen was een erfstuk van Maria Aqua’s moeder, Oceana Aqua. Het behoorde origineel in een sieraad die van de mensen kwam en op de bodem van de oceaan lag, tot deze werd verwerkt tot een symbool van statuut.De deurklink werd gemaakt van de gevonden goudmunten in één van de gezonken schepen van de mensen en versmolten tot een nieuwe vorm. Terwijl beide wachters buiten de deur hun conversatie verderzetten, ijsbeerde koningin Maria Aqua door haar kamer. Haar kamer was gedecoreerd met enkele foto’s. Enkele waren van haarzelf, anderen van haarzelf in haar kindertijd. Er was nog een andere foto bij haar bed waar ze samen met een man op stond. Beiden leken gelukkig. Aan de muur net boven haar bed hing een portret van haarzelf die ze liet maken door een schilder genaamd Piscasso. Aan de muur bij haar deur hing dan weer een schilderij van haar moeder, Oceana Aqua, gemaakt door dezelfde schilder. Iedere keer dat Maria Aqua naar het schilderwerk keek, kreeg ze koude rillingen. Haar moeder was een straffe tante. Alles moest gebeuren volgens het boekje. Had je een regel gebroken, werd je gearresteerd. Kwam Maria als kind te laat thuis van haar lessen kreeg ze onmiddellijk paleisarrest. Aan de eettafel werd gezwegen. En wie toch durfde een woord te spreken werd onmiddellijk door Oceana de mond gesnoerd door wachters die je uit de diner zaal verwijderden. Oceana had maar één koude blik te werpen met haar groene ogen naar haar wachters en iedereen wist dat er een persoon minder aan tafel ging zitten.Groene ogen, lange donkerblauwe haren, lichtblauwe schubben… het was een lichaam waar Maria als kind vaak jaloers op was.De koningin had al vaak de neiging gehad om het schilderij van haar moeder te verwijderen uit haar kamer, of het misschien gewoon om te draaien. Maar telkens ze voor het schilderij stond, kreeg ze opnieuw rillingen en besloot ze om het schilderij maar met rust te laten. Ze zag het aan als een koude herinnering aan haarzelf. Ze zou koste wat het kost doen om het waterrijk te beschermen tegen de wezens op het oppervlakte. De mens.  

Katrien L.
10 0

The Symphony of Life and Death: Trio prologue 'The War of Disobedience'

This is a first draft The War of Disobedience   Dolomius, Father of the Gods, had just fallen. Ripped apart by humans, stronger and wilder than they’d ever been.  “We must retreat, father”, Alponi begged the great Avandair. First brother to Dolomius, and in all rights and purposes, now King of the Gods, and Father of the Gods. “Too many are falling, too many have lost their connection to their domain. Something else is here, on the planet, it’s consuming not only our source of strength, but our magic as well”, the young God of the Mountains said.  “Where is Leorr?”, Avandair asked. “Where is your brother?”.  “The Silent Commander foresaw the attack. He warned us all, in the back. It’s thanks to him that we’ve survived, Lord Father”, Grivali, son of Creaturia said. “He left to the White City, taking the twins with him”. “I am not your Lord Father”, Avandair said.  “I’m terribly sorry, my King. But in this very moment, with all those who have fallen, you are our King, brother”, Brinse, Goddess of Winter, said.  “I .. I’ve no interest in being King”, Avandair said. “I .. have other plans, other goals..”.  “And now you must stand for us all, and lead us, brother”, Calavis, Goddess of the Fall, said. “They’ve noticed us, an army is coming this way”, Yorkal, God of Summer, shouted, from atop a tree.  “How many?”, Brinse shouted back.  “At least five thousand, possibly even more than that”, Yorkal, son of Creaturia, looked around, for signs of other life, other groups of Gods still standing and fighting. “Over there!”, he shouted. “Treebandum and Creaturia are ploughing their way through the human defences to rescue .. I think that’s Sealvy, and a few others as well”, Yorkal shouted.  “You all make your way to Treebandum and Creaturia”, Avandair told his fellow survivors. “I will hold the enemy here off for as long as I can”.  “No, you can not”, Brinse said. “Do not worry for me, sister”, Avandair said. “Now that Dolomius and his sons have all fallen, I have full control over my domain and my lightning”, the God of Truth said. “If I am to fall, I shall take them all with me”, he picked up a shield and sword from a fallen enemy and took two steps forward before stopping and turning back around to his sons, sisters and nephews; “Be safe, all of you”, he told them. That was the last anyone would ever see of Avandair, first brother to Dolomius and the God of Truth. A last stand that would earn him a status as a legendary hero, never to be forgotten, even thousands of years later.  “Quickly now”, Alponi urged on his aunts. “We can not let my father’s sacrifice be in vain. We must survive, we must honour him!”.  “I’ve lost track of my father and Treebandum”, Grivali shouted.  “I see survivors on the ledge, over there”, Calavis yelled. She pointed at a single rock in the middle of a field of raging humans. There was no path to reach the top, and the surface was too smooth to climb. The humans were stuck shouting angrily at them and trying to hit them using arrows, and other ballistic weaponry. “How the hell did they get up there?”.  “Treebandum must’ve placed them there, and the rock”, Alponi replied.  “And how do we get there?”, Brinse asked. “I’ve drained every ounce of magic I have left, I need to rest, I need to return to recharge..”, she looked at her sisters and nephews; “..and it looks like I’m not the only one”.  “Can anyone still use enough to fly?”, Grivali asked, but none answered.  “Maybe we should look for a different place to be rescued?”, Calavis asked.  “Where would we go?”, Alponi asked. “Look around”, he gestured at the battlefield, of which they now had a clear vision. “There are humans as far as the eye can see. The lights of the Gods are dying, one by one. Stormed by too many at once, too many for any single God to handle.  “But some are still fighting, for us, so we can survive”, Brinse said defensively. “Look at them, we can not give up and let their sacrifices be in vain.  The battlefield covered nearly thirty percent of the continent. What were once thousands of lights emanating from Gods, were now only hundreds, as more fell every few minutes. As if swallowed by a sea of black.  “Someone has control over this battlefield”, Yorkal, who had been quietly observing the fighting, finally spoke up. “We may have lost our immortality, and our connection to our magic may be weakened. But it is not normal for these humans to put up such a fight”.  “What do you mean?”, Grivali asked his younger brother.  “Look at them”, he gestured at the battlefield. “They are all clad in a dark armor, almost as black as the night itself. Their eyes are shimmering with a red colour, and they are ripping Gods to shreds with their bear hands, they’re unnaturally strong”.  “You’re saying someone is giving them strength and working against us?”, Alponi asked.  “But that would mean that someone wants to end God-kind”, Brinse said.  “Worse than that”, Calavis said. “It means that there’s a traitor among the Gods”.  “No”, Yorkal said. “It could be worse still .. When we left this planet, it was still rich in magic. What if .. what if humanity created their own Gods”.  “That’s ridiculous, humans can not create Gods”, Alponi laughed.  “Then how would you explain the disappearance of nearly all magic in the land, Alponi?”, Yorkal asked. “Do the mountains still whisper to you?”, he asked. “.. Yes, but there words are not as clear as they are in normal circumstance. Like a dying voice, begging to be saved, or released from its suffering ..”, Alponi said, his eyes looking sadly at his own hands, and then the mountains in the distance.  “Do any of you still hear the whispers of your domain and those that inhabit it?”, Yorkal asked. “Because I no longer do”, the God of Summer said. “Who else could do such a thing, but a God?”, he said.  “That does not necessarily mean that humanity created their own deities, brother”, Grivali said. “It could still be ..”.  “A traitor?”, Yorkal asked. “Does that sound more logical to you? That one of our own kin would betray us, and destroy us? That one of us would use darkness in .. such a way?”, he gestured again to the battlefield. “Who of us controls the dark?”, he asked.  “.. no one, right?”, Grivali asked the other, who all nodded.  “Exactly!”, Yorkal said, smacking his right fist on his left hand. “Which means something, or someone, was created that controls the dark, which means someone created thèm”, he paced back and forth. “None of the God-kin would ever create such a thing, which leaves humanity. Just look at how vile they are, how vengeful, evil, and murderous. They are like hungry wild beasts, strengthened even further by the darkness the clad as armour”.  “I .. I’m still not convinced”, Alponi said, quietly.  “I see Sealvy!”, Brinse shouted. “She has spotted us!”.  “Treebandum is coming from this way”, Calavis said.  “And I see Creaturia, he has seen us as well, we’re saved!”, Grivali cheered. “Is this all that is left of us?”, Treebandum asked, his normally serene tone had taken on a sad tune.  “Avandair .. he held the humans back so we could escape”, Brinse told her older brother.  “Perhaps we can still save him, if we’re fast”, Creaturia suggested.  “No”, Treebandum said. “He knew what he was doing, and how little time we have left to save others .. they all knew..”.  “It’s just like the others”, Sealvy said.  “The others?”, Calavis asked. “What others, sister?”.  “We’ve found several groups, on the run. Our kin, deprived of their magic, drained like dried meat”, Creaturia said. “They were all saved by those who still had their magic, holding off more than they could handle, let alone count.. We’ve lost many today”. “But we’ve saved many as well”, Treebandum said, serenely. “And now we have saved the last of our kin”.  “You can’t just give up on the others”, Alponi shouted. “You can’t just give up on my father”.  “We’re not giving up, nephew”, Sealvy said. “We too must recharge, we need to return to The White City, with the last of the survivors, once we are there, we can discuss what to do next”, she said.  “It is time we left this place”, Treebandum said. “It seems we’ve been spotted”. The God of Roots grew a flower from his hand, whispered to it in a language older than any, the language of the First Seed, created by Thime. Small glowing orbs fell from the flower and began to float towards the top of the rock on which the other survivors had been secured. “Everyone grab an orb”, Treebandum said, and as soon as they did, they were transported instantly to the top of the rock. Soon after, Treebandum opened the path towards The White City. It was such a spectacle to behold that the fighting had stopped, distracting nearly every human around, who were witnessing something they never before seen in their lives, giving the remaining Gods, who would later be named The Grounded Gods, time to escape. The War of Disobedience came to an end, leaving humanity victorious and hungry for more. Soon after, their War on Magic began; which birthed The Hunt. In which forces were specifically trained to sense, spot and kill God-kin. These powers they gained by drinking the blood of the Gods, and eating their flesh during their initiation. The Hunters would become addicted to God blood and flesh, and when deprived of it long enough, would lose all sense of reality and turn into wild vicious beasts. These beasts were highly sensitive to light, but thrived in the dark. They learned to feed on the dark, and the light of the moon. Eventually, they would transform even further, become even more monstrous. Cursed to live forever, they would later become known as Shadow Beasts. Hunters would use these beasts to sniff our magic and God-kin with even greater precision. It was only thanks to the sacrifices of both Treebandum and Creaturia that not all magic and Grounded Gods were erased from existence. However, their sacrifice came too late to save magic on Earth, leaving the planet with nothing. Eara lost her life, turning Earth into just a normal planet, and no longer a celestial body. The Tree of Thime was destroyed as well, but Thime herself had successfully escaped. Only The Free have ever seen Thime in her new form. Many truths will now unfold, new and old.  

K.L. Runaya
3 1

The Symphony of Life and Death Andante Prologue 'Creeping Madness and Magical Solutions'

This is a first draft Creeping Madness and Magical Solutions  Unknown Time; Unknown location; “You might be wondering where I’ve been all this time. Well, I’ve been looking for you. Guided by a feeling that I would see you again”, a young boy, sitting in the dark, was talking to himself. “What happened to me, you ask? Well, I lost everyone. Literally, I woke up in a different world, I think. I call it ‘The Dark Realm’, because it’s always dark here”, the boy looked around the darkness and sighed. “There are no people, not even a single sign of life. I’ve been here for, I don’t know how long, but it seems like forever. Somehow I never get hungry, or cold, or sleepy. I just am. I .. just don’t get it”, he sighed again. “One day though, just as I was about to lose my mind completely, I started to get visions. Visions of you! They told me where you were, what you were doing. I saw that you were also lost in a different world. It looked prettier than where I am .. more colorful as well”, the boy made a wry smile. “You looked happy too. For a minute there it made me angry, because I thought you’d forgotten about me and moved on with your life, while I’ve been trying to find a way back ever since I got to this dreary place”, he held his head in both his hands. “But as soon as I felt the anger, I felt an even greater feeling of guilt. I struggled with it .. hard. But .. that doesn’t matter, I’ve finally found you, and I’ve finally come for you. I’m just sorry that it took me this long, Brail..”, the young boy talking to himself was Kiya, “No, that’s no good. That’s way too long.”, he told himself. We need to change it, maybe .. make it more happy?”, the teen shrugged. “What? No, it’s not”, Reason answered. “It’s perfect just the way it is, it’s who we are”. “How is that who we are?”, Anger asked.  “..if you think you can do better, go ahead, do it, come on”, Reason responded, “Well? What’re you waiting for?”. Peace sighed, “Guys, can’t we all just get along, even if it’s just for a minute?”. “You know, I’ve been meaning to say this for quite a long time”, Kiya said confidently. “But this shit is getting pretty aggravating and seriously insane, to be honest”, Kiya said. “It’s bad enough already that we’re stuck in this .. Dark Realm, I don’t need to lose my shit too. Talking to my own emotions, what the actual fuck.”. “Weirdo”, Pleasure jested.  “Now”, he continued as he ignored his own insults directed at himself, “How do we get out of this place? It’s definitely been years because I’m growing hair on my face and balls now..”, Kiya thought for a moment, “Hmm, maybe that’s why I’m going crazy”, he shrugged. “No. It’s not”, an unfamiliar voice answered. “Who said that?”, Kiya asked, startled. “I did”, the voice replied back, rather simply, as if they were shrugging. “Who are you?”, Kiya asked.  “In a way, I am you”, the voice replied.  “Great, another voice in my head? And what emotion do you represent then?”, Kiya asked, annoyed.  “I am not a mere voice in your head, young Kiya”, the voice said, amused. “I am what came before you, I am what comes after you, and at the same time, I am always you, anywhere, any time, any place, any persona”. “What? What does that even mean?”, Kiya asked, irritatingly confused. “Again, who are you? Wait, did you.. did you bring me here?”. “I did”, the voice answered amused. “Okay, before I wrap my head around that, what the actual fuck? Why would you do something like that, and why'd you let me sit here by myself for so long?”. “I .. forgot. I do apologize”, the voice replied.  “You forgot?”, Kiya said angrily. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? How long have I even been in here?”. “Time does not flow in here”, the voice said. “This is the Dream Realm”.  “That .. that doesn’t answer my question”, Kiya answered, fearing he may have been here so long, everyone he knew may have died already. “It only raises more questions”, the boy said.  “In a way, you could say that you have been here several lifetimes already”, the voice said, calmly.  “Several .. several lifetimes!?”, Kiya asked. Shouted it, almost; and then he began feeling drowsy.  “But in your world, at most a few years”, the voice chuckled. “If I had to make a guess, I would say it has been about two years, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. But, give or take, around two years”.  “Then fucking lead with that next time”, Kiya said, his face turning red.  The voice did not reply to this. “Why did you bring me here?”, Kiya asked, after a few seconds of silence. “Are you still there? Hello?”. “I am here still”, the voice said, calmly. “You have been brought here to fulfill your purpose, your destiny. To train for what is to come”. “I’m sorry, what?”, Kiya asked, his voice an octave lower.  “You have a great destiny, young Kiya”, the voice said. “You, and two others, are part of a great prophecy. You will bring a change to this universe, one unseen by all”.  “Ok, slow down there, buddy. What!?”, with every word said to him, Kiya only felt more and more confused. “Am I being pranked? Wait, is this a dream? Did I die, is that it? I’m dead, aren’t I?”. “You are me, and I am you. We are one, and we always have been. You have merely forgotten, and I am here to remind you of who you truly are. I have brought you back to our Kingdom, so that you may take the throne once again”, the voice replied.  “Okay, what the actual fuck?”, Kiya shouted out.  

K.L. Runaya
0 0

The Symphonies of Life and Fantasy: Allegro/Shadows Prologue 'The Rule of the Shadow'

The Rule of the Shadow   Long ago. In a world before yours. In a reality now long gone. There was the Age of The Dark. The Ancient Times were ruled by three overseeing powers. Entities born from nothing, but meaning everything. The Darkness was the first. It is the eldest form of intelligent life in all of existence. The Universe came second, bringing with it hope in the dark. The Darkness and The Universe fell in love and they created The First Light. Chaos, Neutrality and Goodness were their monikers. But, The Darkness grew bored quickly. It began to experiment with its powers, its reach. It took over the mind of a small creature, and caused the downfall of a small planet. Intoxicated with this new way to pass his time. The Darkness repeated his unforgivable act twelve more times. It was only after the thirteenth time that The Universe finally confronted her beloved. But The Darkness did not care for the words of the one he loved .. once. Now he was enamoured by power. Without anyone at hand to stop him, The Darkness swallowed all. Every planet. Every creature. Every living thing. By the end of his great hunger there was nothing left. Only he, his love and their child. Out of fear that her love would repeat his atrocious act over and over again; The Universe decided to turn against her love. She concocted a special potion, of sorts. That would force The Darkness into a deep and eternal slumber. Once The Darkness was put to rest, The Universe and The First Light joined hands and created Life and Death, though the latter would often refer to himself as ‘Fantasy’. And it was in their hands that they left responsibilities to create new life, new planets and their symphonies that you have come to learn. But, forever looming in an eternal slumber laid The Darkness. Plotting his revenge. And what a revenge it would be.  The Darkness had been a captive for several millennia when cut off a small piece of himself and managed to slip it out of his prison. The small patch of shadow, embedded with its master’s essence, turned into a small creature. Its task was simple. “Eara is your destination. Find me a Champion. Create for me an army!”. The small creature would find a young God, brother to another God, a hero even among the deities. A selfless man with no wish to rule. Eager to prove himself the better, the young God always challenged his perfect brother. But was always defeated. The shadowed creature approached the young God one fateful night. Convincing the young God with promises of greatness. And so it happened. The young God forged a pact with the creature. He defeated the perfect brother in battle and then crowned himself King of the Gods, and Father of the Gods. He declared himself ‘The first born God of Eara’. His strength had grown tenfold. The young God then created four sons. From rock, stone, thunder and lightning. To serve as his guardians. But then the young God did something the shadowed creature could not foresee. He grew arrogant and lazy. Conceited. Fat and drunk. No longer the warrior he once was, but still possessing over the immense powers the shadow had bestowed upon him. The shadowed creature decided to end their contract prematurely.  “Agreed”, King Dolomius agreed rather easily. “But on one condition”, he added. “I keep my strength, and if I do not, Solara shall be your final destination”. The King of the Gods signed a contract of his own making. He no longer had any use for this creature. His powers were his might. Without them, he would not be able to rule over the other God-kin. He wouldn’t be able to control them. The creature only contemplated the choice for a brief few seconds. Then signed the contract using its tail. The pact between the shadow creature and the young God had come to an end. Instantly the young God tested his might. It was all still there. Every power at his command. He chuckled and then cackled. While the small creature went on its way to find a new host. One he would be able to control better. One who wants war. Who wants to rule all, not just fill their bellies and wet their cocks. The search was short. Surprisingly short. The creature sensed a deep and dark rage. A caged monster begging to be released. Howling for carnage. The shadowed creature was instinctively drawn towards it and at the end of its run it found another young God. He was by himself.  

K.L. Runaya
0 0

aPUNKalypse chapter 1 'The Kids of Tomorrow'

The Kids of Tomorrow      We begin in 1989. 10 years ago the world “ended”. Society was no more. The streets cracked open, lava spit out. Nuclear bombs fell into the earth causing mass destruction. The leaders of the earth abandonned their people, causing mass panic. Rather than work together, some leaders thought they could make use of the situation to eliminate certain opposing countries. World War III broke out but didn’t last very long due to toxic gasses spreading in certain parts of the world. The closer to the gass, the more deadly it was. Causing instant death within a radius of 3 kilometers. Stories arose, at first, when humanity was still fighting, that the dead that were within those 3 kilometers had all come back to life. Zombies, Z’s short, now roamed the earth. Nuclear waste created mutated humans, over time they became known as Mumans, and animals, Manimals who then created mutated halfbreeds, Molestors . Of which most have gone insane and cannibalistic, only few can still speak. Humanity gave up shortly after. Communications fell out, adults who had survived left the group of orphans who then had to learn to fend and fight for themselves. Survival was key. Joey, Debby (already his gf), Michael (his best friend), Milo, Joe and Sid had all snuck out of the orphanage to go to a punk rock party in 1979 when it all happened. As soon as it started the group ran back to the orphanage to save the younger kids. Shortly after they were picked up by soldiers in busses. When the war began, 1 week later, the army left the orphans. They were met again with a group of hippies, learned from them for a year. The hippies left one day, hunting for food, but never came back. They then survived on the streets for 9 years thinking they were the last humans, the last non-mutated beings, on the planet earth. This is where our story begins.   High on top of the highest point of Breakneck Ridge, the outpost sat Joe, technically 4th in command of the Never Generation. - Or, at least, that is how they liked to refer themselves as. It was both a mocking and an ode to the orphanage they all grew up in called ‘Newer Generation’. - But acted more as 3rd in command because Michael liked to be alone. Joe was also the best fighter and could easily defeat Milo, Michael and Joey in one-on-one fights. And nearly as smart as The Twins. But Joe was a simple guy. He didn’t enjoy the attention, or responsibility. He liked to be free and loose. Act like a child when he felt like it and grab a snack when he needed one. A no-worry life in the apocalypse. But unfortunately Joey had other plans and saw Joe’s potential. So he was named Head-Scout. A job, Joe argued, was more suited to a loner like Michael. But Joey wouldn’t hear it. Tch , Joe clicked his tongue thinking about it.  It was a beautiful day, for the apocalypse. Or is it the New World now? He thought, the young slender man looked around with his dark blue eyes, filled with sadness and mystery. Peering into the distance, his hand over his head to shade away the sun. A top of Breakneck Ridge Joe had eyes in all directions and could see anything coming. But all he saw was more of the same. Trees, water and rocks. He rolled his eyes. “Time to head home, nothing to see.” He grabbed his backpack, pulled his hood over his head and started heading South, towards home. “Only a fifty minute walk.” He said, sarcastically cheerful.  You’re too honest for your own good. The thought just sprung in his head. A faint smile appeared around Joe’s lips thinking back to his first day as a scout. His first day as scout had probably been the worst of them all. By now he’s become used to it. But then, then he was afraid to be alone because of the nightmares that haunted him at night, and during the day. He didn’t want to bother his surrogate family with his troubles, Joe always thought, mostly out of shame. One of his lesser qualities. He always wants to carry everyone’s load of off their shoulders, but never asks, or accepts, help in return. He’d just smile and comfort them with an easy-to-believe lie. He hates that. Lying. Makes his stomach twist. A quality Joey greatly admires. But he would rather lie and say he could handle it, than put his story in the hands of his real family. Afraid to be outcast or scared off, to be mocked or treated differently. And so he stayed quiet about all his past misfortunes and focused on his job and newfound responsibility. Being the look-out and scout. The defense and the alarm. Together with Michael he had build the outpost that day. Michael had been silent the entire day, so work went by fast but the day seemed to last a lifetime. But then, when the sun was getting ready to set, the friendly ogre spoke, “You’re too honest for your own good. Do you know that?” He paused for a moment, Joe wondered if he was waiting for him to answer. But before he could think of a response, Michael continued. “And why do you act like you’re dumb and weak? What is it that troubles you? What did you live through before you reached the orphanage, Joe? You’re the only one who’s past is unknown. At some point the others will notice it as well, The Twins probably already have.” And as sudden as he had started, he stopped. “Well, fuck me. When it rains it pours with you, huh?” He laughed, “I’ve known you for 11 years, Michael, and I’ve never heard you speak as many words in those eleven years than I heard you speak just now.” His hands went to his head and he emulated the sound of an explosion, “mindblown”, he concluded.  “That doesn’t answer my question.” Michael reputed. Joe jumped on one foot, balanced himself and jumped back on both. “I’m well aware.” He said, smiling. His eyes sparkling with joy.  . 

K.L. Runaya
3 1

Jack Stargazer chapter 1 'Not Another Fantasy Story'

Not Another Fantasy Story   Jack “stargazer” Starlow was no ordinary eleven year old boy. In fact, he was everything but ordinary. With his messy, wavy, golden locks and blue eyes, he was already a strange sight to behold in a dark haired, brown eyed, family. He also was not the biggest of boys, both in length, and width. And then his oversized glasses. Clearly too big for his face, and a very dark khaki green. But he looked good in them, that’s what he thought. But no one seemed to agree with his sense of fashion. His jeans, all torn. His shirt, which always had every button unbuttoned, even the sleeves. With a logo t-shirt of one, or other, cartoon. Though he would always argue that it is ‘anime’, and not a ‘cartoon’.  Jack had a cheerful personality, but had a careful way of approaching other people. Always thinking his steps thoroughly through. Who to befriend, who to avoid. Which teachers to trust. Which road to take home. What to eat. Everything mattered, because everything you do has an influence on your day. That is what Jack truly believed. But Jack discovered, at a very young age, that not everyone thought the same way. Not everyone holds friendship and trust and loyalty in such high regards. He quickly learned that, unfortunately and disappointingly, people only felt these emotions when they were scripted for them. Jack had matured so early, on an intellectual level, that he was misunderstood by all. And had spent the following seven years under brutal bullying at home. By his two brothers; Pryede and Worath. His two sisters; Luyst and Glytoni. Even his parents; Greade and Envay. His classmates, in fact, the entire town did not seem to like the boy that much. They hated him because he was part of the Stain family, and his family hated him because he is not like them.  “Soloth! Soloth!” Envay was pacing up and down the lobby; “Soloth!” She moaned in aggravation, “where is that useless brat!?” “I saw him playing with one of his stupid pests again.” Pryede said, boastingly.  “Get him.” Envay snapped, “get you brother!” “That little pest is no brother of mine.” Pryede said under his breath as he stormed up the stairs, two steps was all it took him. “I’m gonna get, you little shit!” He shouted; as he pulled down the attic trap door ladder. “Shh, shh, be quiet. He can’t see you, he’ll take you away and hurt you. I can’t stop him, he’s too strong. You need to stay hidden.” Jack was sitting in the far east corner of the attic, talking to several little critters. A mouse, a squirrel, an owl and a kitten. “No, no. Just hide, please.” “Who’re you talkin’ too, squirt?”  Oh no, he’s already here. “N..nothing.”  “Whatcha hidin there? Is it one of your stupid pests? You want me to kill them, like I did with the others? You wanna eat them again? You liked it? Is that it!? Move!” He pushed his brother away, who fell, face first, on the floor. His nose bleeding, his eyes struck with fear. No, please, no. “Let’s see what we got here.” The oldest brother put his hand through the crevice in the wall where Jack had been standing, trying to hide it, trying to give his friends more time to escape. Because that’s what they are, friends. Not pests. Not pets. They’re my friends. They’re the only ones that understand me! But his voice fell flat. Fear stopped his mouth from moving. He felt powerless, useless. Responsible for whatever horrors his brother had in store for his dear friends. “p..pl..” But the words wouldn’t come out, no matter how he tried. No matter how hard he forced himself to speak. They fell silent as he forced his mouth open. No, please, no. Speak! Speak! Please.. Tears filled his eyes, and at the sight of this his brother grinned, shoving his arm deeper into the crevice. Grinning, always grinning, but then his grin trade places with confusion. He can’t find them, they’re gone! Jack couldn’t help but let a smile escape his lips.  “Something funny, squirt!?” Pryede, who had already moved from the crevice to Jack’s side, stood glaring at his brother. “I asked you a question!” He shouted, “so, you’re not answering, are you?” He continued, not leaving his youngest brother room to answer. “Then it’s time to feel some pain, little bro.” He laughed, grabbed Jack by his shirt, pulling it so hard the eleven year old boy had to gasp for air. “You’re coming with me.” “Pryede, have you found Soloth?” Their mother shouted from below, in a voice that would make even the bravest of men tremble in fear. “Pryede!?” “You’re lucky, little shit.” The oldest of the Stain boys said, “for now.” And he pushed his little brother down the stairs as he shouted; “Found him!” Jack came tumbling down, hitting his head three times. Thinking one day, you just wait, one day, all the way down.  “Soloth! I told you to be here eight minutes ago!” She raised her hand. Jack, still looking down, “it’s only eight minu..” And his mothers’ hand hit him against his right cheek with such force his head hit the ground again. “You ungrateful little shit!” She shouted ecstatically.  What should I be grateful for? He thought, giving a quick dead eye look at his mother, then his brother and sisters, laughing at him behind his mother, and then his oldest brother, still standing atop the stairs. Another hand hit his face, this time the left cheek.  “You DARE glare at your MOTHER!?” Envay was now in complete fury, “You little SHIT! I Despise the day I ever got you!” “Whoa whoa, what’s going on here?” Greade, Jack’s father, had left the basement. “What’s with all the shouti..” He saw Jack lying on the floor, with blood all over his face now. “You.” The hulking man snapped. “It’s always you.” He made a fist. “Why is it always you?” He hit Jack in the nose, even more blood gushed out. “Why is it that you don’t learn?” He picked the boy up and put him back on his feet. “Why is it that you aren’t like us?” He stomps him in the stomach, Jack gasps for air. His brothers and sister all joined together now, laughing in their wicked way. His mother looked down in disappointment. “Why can’t you be more like us?” He pulls out a handkerchief and starts wiping his hands clean. “We raised you. Where is the gratitude for that? Your brothers and sisters learned so much faster than you. But, then again, they are pure blood. And you..” He glared at his wife for a second, who hung her head in shame and started to apologize. “You’re just some ungrateful little shit we had to save because my wife believes in old wives’ tales.” He turned around and left the room, back to his basement; Envay following him, still apologizing.  “You heard that, guys?” Luyst said, in her wicked way. “Dad finally admitted it. He’s not even our brother.” “Hey! You’re right, he did! OH MY GOD! I am SO mind blown, right now.” Glytoni giggled, Jack had always favored Glytoni over his other siblings. They were the youngest and had the best connection with each other, until they hadn’t anymore and Glytoni “grew up”. And she joined her older siblings in tormenting Jack.  “So, Soloth.” Pryede started, as he raised his hands “ready for some fun?” Oh no. Jack thought. “Let’s GO!” Pryede shouted, mockingly in the voice of Peter Pan; one of Jack’s favorite stories. “Get the little twerp.” Worath gave out a battle cry, “I’m gonna hurt you real bad, this time, Soloth.” Luyst threw a bottle, missing Jacks’ face by inches. “I’m not gonna miss next time, Soloth.” Glytoni giggled and came rushing in, “hahahahahaa, Soloth!”  My name is Jack Starlow! I am NOT part of this family and I leave you today. Is what he wanted to say, but instead, he stood up and ran up the stairs. The attic trap door was still open, he sped up the attic stairs, closed the trap door and locked it. Quickly grabbed some supplies; food that he always kept in his room, because they would often not leave anything for him. Thread and needle, because you never know when you might need a thread and needle, he thought. Money; that he had saved up by doing odd jobs when he sneaked out at night. His bus pass; complementary to his school. And his friends, who had already snuck into his backpack, nice time saver, he chuckled. “Time to leave.” He started to sweat, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He started to doubt, “No! I can’t doubt it. I can’t stay here. They’ll kill me for sure. I should’ve left when I found out the truth about this family.”  “Soloth!” The attic door began to shake, “Soloth!” “Time to go.” He grabbed his backpack, checked if all four of his friends were present, eight eyes stared back at him. “Awesome.” He muffled under his breath while pushing open the roof window, but not before shouting “My name is Jack Starlow!”. And he hurried out of the window frame, afraid they’d burst through the door any minute. The climb down was easy, he had done it a thousand times before as he sneaked out to work odd jobs. He knew every step to take before he took it. But this time was different. Jack was injured and in a hurry. His foot reached out too far, he slipped and fell down. Luckily, he was already half-way down the prickly thorns, and didn’t need to climb further down those dreadful thorns. “Lucky”. He sang to himself, laying on the ground, covered in dirt, thorns and blood. “So lucky.” He groaned, as he tried to get back to his feet. In need of a quick get-a-away he started looking around. “Can’t use mom and dad’s cars, or the twins’ dirtbikes.” He sighed. Looked up and began hearing sounds coming from the attic. “Guess I’ll just run.” And run, he did. Before you knew it, he was out of sight. Knowing the alleys and streets of this town like the back of his hand; because his family were not the only ones he had to run from. He left the abandoned Starlow Street, where he had lived all his life, and has never once seen another person vacate any of the other houses. It was a dark and cold street, but he enjoyed it’s loneliness. He felt at home in this street. Unfortunately, he had to share it with his adoptive family. After Starlow Street came Bunkle Bridge, notorious in folklore for it’s trolls, or so they say. Many say that Starlow Street is abandoned because of the Legend of Bunkle Bridge. But Jack knew that the Stain family had a part in it, definitely, he thought. Beyond Bunkle Bridge was The Forest of Aliscius, and beyond that the town of Aliscora, both named after a fabled warrior of old, Aliscius the Bright. A former soldier who rallied the rest of  The Light’s side’s final battalion of, originally, five hundred thousand strong, now reduced to merely thirty warriors. To face off against the might of The Dark. Forces of evil, orcs, goblins, trolls and so much more. And somehow, they won. Because Aliscius had found the legendary Sword of Eternal Light.  Jack always thought the story was a sappy one, I would’ve written a better one, he always thought to himself every time the story was read to him at school. He suddenly remembered something from kindergarten; at the age of three, he had asked his teacher: “People based a religion on THIS!?” And was immediately transferred to the “troublemaker class”, which no one was surprised off. “He’s a Stain, after all.” The teachers and parents would agree amongst each other.  “Old news.” He told himself out loud. Cheer up. He thought, smiled and continued into The Forest of Aliscius. A special forest. Depending on where you would enter, you’d get an entirely different experience walking through these woods. If you entered from Bunkle Bridge, you would get a dark and scary path, creepy noises left, right and center. But if you entered from Widow’s Lake, you’d get a very rainy walk. Another entrypoint is Flowerbed Avenue, making it so your walk is warm and sunny, even if it’s snowing outside of the forest. And the final entry point, Jack’s personal favorite, Icarus Street. Where you’d always get a starry sky. He would often cross the forest, through the dark and scary path of Dunkle Bridge, to then return through Icarus Street. He would often spend the night in a tree, staring at the night sky. The thousands of bright lights, so very far away. It had always intrigued him. The bullies from school had given him the nickname “Stargazer”, most likely hoping to hurt Jack emotionally. But failing as Jack’s response was a solid; “OH! That’s so good, can I use that?” Leaving the bullies behind, completely dumbfounded.  Unfortunately, Jack couldn’t go to Icarus Street. It’d be the first place they’d look for me. He thought. And the next place they’d look for me is the last place they think I would be. Which is here. So I can’t stay here either. He tried to look up, see the sky through the trees, but to no avail. Only darkness, only scary noises and shadowy figures creeping by. As usual. He thought. “Widow’s Lake!” He suddenly shouted, scaring his friends in his backpack. “Oh, I’m sorry, guys.” He apologized, eyes filled with genuine shame. “Let’s get a move on. Widow’s Lake is at least an hour a half on foot in this darkness. And we better do it in an hour, better yet to do it in less.” He said, while picking up the pace. “It might get a bit bumpy in there guys.” And he started running. Jumping over trees in the dark, he surprised himself at how well he knew these woods. It felt like home. Just as Starlow Street. He evaded a branch on his left side, another on his right. Jumped over a fallen tree and avoided a few pitfalls hunters had made. The Stain family enjoyed hunting in the dark part of the forest. Jack took a quick look behind him, stopped moving. Slowed his breathing and tried to listen if he could hear his deranged siblings running towards him. Because if there was one thing he could count on, it is that his brothers and sisters aren’t able to hunt in silence. His parents, on the other hand, were silent and deadly.  He could feel a little tug on his shirt, Dilligaince the owl had crawled out of the boys’ backpack. “I get it, I get it. We’re going.” But the owl suddenly jumped up and took off. “Wait, where’re you going? Dilly? Dilligaince!?” He sighed in annoyance, “fine, you know your way back to me.” And the boy took off, in the opposite direction of Dilligaince. Running, faster than before. Somehow he knew something bad was about to happen. He ran and he ran. Evading trees and branches left and right. When suddenly he tripped over something. Felt like a leg, he thought, not gonna check. He concluded and dusted himself off. Ready to continue. When suddenly he heard the sound of a twig snapping, at least two hundred meters aways from him. Immediately he knew he had to run, only four hundred meters left until he would reach Widow’s Lake, a very crowded place where “his kind”, being a Stain, was not welcome. His parents would never cross the over, he thought. And so he ran, like never before. Sprinting until he felt a metal taste on his tongue and throat. His spleen started hurting, but he couldn’t give up, he ran even faster and faster. Another twig snapped, this time right to his left, only a hundred meters left, the boy thought, but stopped. They’re just playing with me. He thought, getting angry. “You think I’m some kind of toy for you to play with!? HUH!?” The eleven year old boy shouted to the darkness of The Forest of Alicius. “That’s exactly what you are now, useless brat.” The voice of his foster father reached the boy before his father did. Giving Jack just enough time to avoid an attack that would have cut him in half. “Seems you learned something after all.” Greade said, somewhat proud, but in a mocking way.  “Are you NUTS!? You could have killed me!” Jack shouted with fear coursing through his words.  “That’s the point, dear little snack.” Now his mother’s voice, Jack took a step backwards. Sharp claws barely missing him. “Oh.” She said amusingly.  Jack took a quick glimpse at the road, fifty meters, he thought. Great, I got closer. But now what!? “Awh, look at that Envay, he’s trying to think his way out.” Greade spitted on the floor, “forever the disappointment. Stains fight with the claws they’re given! Not hide behind...”, he spat again, “...words”. “Do you think he’ll taste bad because we’re gonna eat him early?” Envay asked her husband. “We’re not gonna eat him early…” Greade said with a smile, “we’ll keep him and torture him untill he begs us to eat him.”  His foster parents had been standing in the shadows this whole time. Hiding their true forms. But Jack knew. He had seen them, all of them, killing people. Eating their souls. Stealing their skin and identities. He felt disgusted the day he found out they really are the monsters the whole town claims them to be, in fact, they are worse. Much worse, he thought. I gotta make a run for it. The boy thought, looking for an opening to move closer to the exit.  “Are you trying to move closer to Widow’s Lake?” His foster father started laughing out loudly, “you foolish boy, do you think the great Stain family fears a few peasants? Mortals? No.There’s no escape for you, little “Jake.” And he cackled again, he sounds like an anime villain, Jack thought. “Why?” Was all the boy could say.  “Just take a look, boy...” Greade said, picking up Jack and throwing him out of the woods and unto the grass of Widow’s Lake, “...you’ll see for yourself.” He growled as he left the woods and slowly entered the, by street lantern, lit Widow’s Lake. He could see his foster father’s right foot enter light, it looked odd. Huge and grotesque, like the foot of some kind of scaley animal. But just as the young boy tried to get a good look, someone grabbed him by the shoulders; with what felt like enormous hands; and the boy was pulled up in the air and thrown into the arms of someone else. Who immediately knocked the boy out.  “We’re taking the boy.” A gorilla-shaped man said to Greade. “Kayndness!” Greade growled and lashed out from the darkness, using his tail as a whip. “I’ll get you for this! The boy is mine!” Sharp claws missed Kay’s right eye by millimeters. The gorilla-man, faster than he appears to be, had grabbed both tail and arm. “Time to go back to the darkness.” Kayndness replied, “say hello to the fam!” And he threw the demon back into the woods. “Chaziddy!” “Captain?” A parrot-looking man yelled, holding the unconscious Jack in his feathery arms.  “We’re leaving.” “Yes, Captain!” A small flying ship descended from the clouds, “Why has the cloaking device been turned off? What the hell is that new guy doing this time?” A rope came down, “Give me the boy, Chaz. Fly up, see what the old man’s doing.” “Aye, Captain.” The parrot-man replied to his Captain, as he handed Jack over to Kayndness; clapped his wings and flew up. Having reached the ship in the blink of an eye. “Nano, the Captain wants to know why you turned off the cloaking device.”  “Oh, hey Chaziddy! Whazzup?” A, relatively, old looking turtle-helmsman greeted his Vice-Captain. “Oh my Antromea! Have you been touching that human tobacco, again?” “It’s not tobacco, man. It’s weed. It’s good for you, you should give it a try. Might calm you down for a second.” “Sweet Liftrea, you’re an old man, Shell. What are you doing?.”  “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m quite young for a turtle!” The old turtle replied, quite proud of himself. “Hey!” He yelled out, when Chaziddy took the veteran’s pipe. “Give me back my pipe!”  “SHELL!” Kayndness had already reached the ship, “what the hell are you doing? What will you do if the humans see us again? We are in the middle of a town, NOT a farm like last time. The humans may outcast one local, but they will not outcast an entire town. Turn on the cloaking device! NOW!” The gorilla-man bellowed. “Y-yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir!” And the old turtle turned the cloaking device back on. “Now, take us away, Mr Shell.” “Where’re we going, sir?” “We’re going home.” “Sir! Yes, Sir!” “Are you sure, Kay?” Chaziddy asked his Captain, “It’s been a long time since we’ve been home. We’ve been looking for the boy so very long, it almost seems like a lifetime.” “I am sure, Chazz.” The Captain replied, with confidence, he paused a moment, “the boy needs to be safe.” “I know, but, are we not safer in the sky than on land?” “You always were the wisest of Vice Captains, were you not?” Kayndness said, laughing. “We will not return to stay, we must pick up supplies. And we need that scroll.” He said, staring in the distance. “The scroll? But, Kay, we couldn’t even make it the last time. How would we be able to do it this time?” “Well..” The gorilla-man started, “we’ve got the boy.” “The boy?” Chaziddy asked with certain sarcasm, “the boy is a boy. What can he do? He may be the child of prophecy, but clearly he has yet to awaken his true potential.” “Well..” The Captain began anew, “we’ve also got these guys.” And he opened Jack’s backpack. The heads of Abby the squirrel, Libra the kitten and Hummy the mouse popped out of the backpack. “Pets?” Chaz said, mockingly. “An eleven year-old boy and his three pets? That’s our salvation? They are to stand against evil? Dear God, Kay..” The Vice-Captain said to his Captain. “Have some faith in your Captain.” His captain replied. “Have I ever led you astray?” “Well, there was that one time in Calusmepia.” Chazz said, still thinking of other examples. “So, one ti…” “And that time in the Gomornea Tunnels, or that time in the Mines of Dyceasd.” “Fine, fine. I get it. Then what do you suggest our next action will be, Mr Vice-Captain?” The gorilla-man sneered. “I...I don’t know.” The Vice-Captain said, “as you said, we need the scroll. So we must return home. But…” The Parrot-man reverted to a regular man, with a multicolored mohawk. Dressed in green leather and small, round, sunglasses. “Our home...it’s been…” the words would no longer leave his lips, the wound was still fresh. They had lost their home to evil. Their leader, Zeulzus the Hammer, had betrayed them. Shell had discovered that Zeulzus, who now calls himself Zelzus Deathhammer, was secretly working for the demons all this time. It IS the main reason Shell was accepted aboard The Arc, as it’s helmsman. His unconventional ways were also the reason they managed to escape a massacre. Now they were the only ones left, the last stand. A Captain, his Vice-Captain, their helmsman, a boy and his three pets. “I know, my friend. Our situation is dire. I know.” Kayndness said, in a voice that would break your heart. The pain of losing his family, seeing them killed before his eyes by the man that had raised him, taught him everything he knew. Whom he respected with all his heart. The wound, the pain, it was still too fresh. He preferred not to think of it. He preferred to let his fists do the thinking for him. And he preferred to do that thinking, up close and personal, with Zelsus. “But we must, we have no choice. For the sake of the world. For the sake of our legacy, of our existence. We must face him.” Kay reverted to his human form, which still looked like a gorilla in a t-shirt. “But you’re right, we need more people. And the boy must awaken his latent abilities.” “What about the Widower Witch? Maybe she has the answers we seek? Or a path for us to take?” Shell had been absent for the entire conversation that the other two had nearly forgotten about him. “What?” He said when he saw his Captain and Vice-Captain stare at him. “Something I said?” He chuckled. “Everything you said!” Kay shouted out, running up to his helmsman, holding him in the air and then hugging him tight, the way only Kayndness could do.   “Good thing I’ve got my shell on...” The old turtle said with a sheepish smile, “...or you would’ve crushed me.” He laughed out loud.  “You’re a genius!” Kay kissed his helmsman, “A friggin’ genius!” He laughed and laughed. “Set course for the Widower Witch, Mr Shell.” “Aye aye, Cap’n.” The Turtled man said playfully, “West, west. To the west we go. West, west, to the west we sail. West, west, the Widower’s Witch. West, west, she knows best.” He sang out loud, taking out a second pipe and lighting it. “West, west …” He continued to sing but stopped abruptly. “Captain, incoming!” The turtle man shouted. “What is it?” The Captain shouted back from his cabin door. “Something appears to be flying our way, Captain.” And something did, far in the distance. Something came flying directly towards them. “How is that possible?” He looked at his helmsman, “have you turned the cloaking device off again?” “It’s on, Captain.” The faithful helmsman replied. “Then what in the …” He stopped, as the figure was about to land on the bow of the ship. “Prepare for battle, boys!” The captain shouted, changing to his beast form. “Aye, Captain!” Chaz and Shell said in duet, following their Captain’s example.  “Goddamn Light Chasers!” Greade growled. “Goddamn monkey! I’ll get him for this! I’ll kill him!!” He started smashing trees and throwing rocks. Envay just stared at him, forever intrigued by Greade’s rage. It is why she had chosen him as her mate. A succubus needs a hefty meal, she thought, grinning.  Laughter could be heard east of them, “We need to train our little demons better. They’re horrible hunters.” Envay giggled.  “Speak for the others.” Pryede, the oldest, said. “You never heard me coming, did you, mother?” He gave a little cackle. “Oh dearie, have I not told you to be aware of your surroundings?” She said, while tapping three knives against two of his legs and an arm. “You would’ve lost all your limbs.” She giggled. “Did you really think you’re better than me?” The boy bowed down. “Go back to your brother and sisters. Take them home. We’ll discuss your failure later..”  Pryede, angry and insulted, stood up and turned around.  “...and your punishment.” His mother slipped under her breath, as he left, just loud enough for him to hear. The oldest of their children disappeared from sight. Shortly after, the laughter of his siblings ended. Just as abruptly as she caused his pride to fall, mere seconds earlier. “Is that how you keep your Blood in line?” A tall thin woman had appeared from the shadows. So tall she could be a tree, but so thin the tree would have to be a branch. Her skin as white as the white from her eyes, with two blue vicious eyes swimming in the white, like sharks, looking for their next victim to prey upon.  “Anoërksia, what are you doing here?” Envay sneered, “is your sister here as well?” She looked around nervously. Envay had never liked the youngest of the Linquish sisters. Because her beauty was beyond comparison. “No.” Anoërksia began, with a voice that seemed to vibrate a little, “Ortheksia isn’t here, Envay. No need to be envious.” She let out a cackle that seemed to send vibrations into the air. “This isn’t Nighthood business.” She purred a little, “I just wanted to watch you fail.” “Why you…” Envay began, her emotionless face now red with fury. “CALM YOURSELVES!” Greade bellowed, immediately both demons fell silent. “Why are you here, Anoërksia?” Greade said, snapping his teeth right before her eyes.  “My Lady Destitia has sent me.” The tall thin demon said, her voice still vibrating, but this time because of fear. The fear of having her head ripped right off of her shoulders, she had seen him do it before, for far less. “Destitia?” He said, the name left a vile taste in his mouth, “what’s she want?”  “My Lady wants you to come to the mansion. She has news from The Widower Witch. Turns out the child you were raising for lunch is actually a very prominent figure in the prophecy.” “That little runt?” Greade growled, “And that stupid monkey has got his hands on him. This isn’t good.” He looked at his wife, “We’re leaving.”

K.L. Runaya
3 1

Kiya Lee & The P.D. chapter 1 'It's a Crazy World' (a story using Public Domain characters)

It’s a Crazy World     Have you ever had a strange day happen to you? I mean, like, really, really strange? Well, let me tell you about one of the strangest days of my life. It was the day I met the P.D.; and no, that doesn’t stand for what you think it does.  You see, I was just minding my own business, reading some comic books on my bed. When, completely out of nowhere a portal just opened up in my bedroom. That’s right, IN my bedroom. I didn’t even have pants on. So I jumped up, pulled my pyjama trousers on and grabbed my inflatable bat, because it’s the only weapon the group mother would allow me to have. I stood there, ready for anything. Aliens, monsters, time travelers. But I wasn’t prepared for … Peter Pan? It reminded me of the day I first arrived at the group home. I was like a gritty darker version of myself, I call him ‘Dark Knight Kiya’.  ‘I've stared death in the face so often that I've lost count. And I've yet to experience why. Why did I survive? Why me? If nothing in life works for me and no one wants to be near me, why me? Why not someone happier? Someone more loved? Someone more successful? Why me? What can I do, but fail? I’ve asked myself these questions so often that I’ve lost count of where the questions start and I begin. Seems to be a recurring thing, losing count. I’ve lost count of the betrayals by friends, the continuous streak of bad luck, the unreceived love from those of whom you’d expect would love you, like my parents and siblings before the accident. No one told me that life would be easy, nor did I expect it to be. But another thing nobody told me anything about was how cruel it would be. How cruel humans would be. How cruel adults would be’.  God, I was so dark back in my younger days. So dramatic. It’s a good thing I got over that. Now I’m happier. Because I made a vow with myself, to never grow up. To never become an adult, like all the others. To stay me, to remain free spirited, and that’s why I couldn’t stop laughing when Peter Pan exited the portal that had opened up in my bedroom. Was it destiny? Or is it just God mocking me? Peter looked at me in a funny way, as if his face meant to say; ‘What are yóú doing here?’.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”, I asked him. “You know this is mý room, right?”. He didn’t answer, just stared at me. “Do you talk?”, I ask him rudely, I quickly apologised for my town and that’s when he spoke for the first time.  “I knew I took the right portal”, he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Then you have to be the one”, he stared at me intensely. For a second I was afraid he’d start kissing me, but luckily his mouth decided to speak words instead. “You must come with me, to my world”, he said, reaching out his hand to me.  As I stood there like a dumbfounded buffoon, I caught myself thinking; ‘Well, that’s not that much better than kissing, is it?’.     

K.L. Runaya
3 1

The Rise and Fall of Mason Mantle chapter 1 'Reunion' (a Wizarding World fanfic, unfinished)

Reunion     It is the year 2065 and it had been twelve long years since last these unlikely friends had seen one another. And if it were up to Mason, they would never have met again. He had not missed a single one of them. Not even Emeraldine Gloven, who’m he loved more than anything, even now, even still. But, alas, the five unlikely friends, who should have never have been friends, came to just an unlikely end. It all happened during their last year attending Hogwarts. Everything they knew of each other would change. A silence would fall flat over their friendship and not bring them together until twelve years later, when yet another tragedy unfolds.  “So.” Mason felt obliged to start the conversation, as no one else seemed to be willing to carry the burden. “Can we just …” “You dare speak first, Mantlle!?” Chase Mantle sneered, a pale dark haired man with very dark eyes, the epitome of Slytherin, Mason always thought. “Haven’t you done enough already?” The Slytherin alumni asked.  “Done enough!? It’s been twelve fucking years, Chase. We’ve all moved on, why can’t you?” “No, Mason.” Emeraldine intervened. “No, we haven’t. How could we? Have you? My God, Mason. What’s happened to you?”  “I… I didn’t… Whatever.” Mason stuttered.  “Can we just get on with it, so we can leave, yeah?” Little Marcy Mirwittle said, with a voice that sounded just as squeaky as when she was still a thirteen year old.  “How about we show some respect to the dead?” Silent Gorin Halfbane said. “Or have you all forgotten that everyone has been dropping dead left, right and center? We could be next. That’s why we’re here, after twelve fucking years. So get your shit together, all of you. Because I for one refuse to go under without a fight.” “We don’t even know who we’re fighting, Gorin.” Emeraldine said. “It could be anyone.” “No, not anyone.” Chase nearly whispered, “It has to be someone who knew of Potter’s Army. It has to be someone who knew it’s members.” “Chase is right.” Mason said, “There’s a traitor in Potter’s Army and we need to find out who it is.”

K.L. Runaya
3 1

The Coldheart Files chapter 1 'A Cold Start'

A Cold Start     In a small country there was a small village, in that village there stood a small house, and in that small house there lived a big family with many problems. The father, Karn, was a convicted criminal on the run from the law, but foolishly hiding in his own home. The mother, Jessie, was a duality, a loving and nurturing mother one day, a stone-cold heartless drunk the next. The oldest son, Stefan, was following in his father’s footsteps. The three oldest girls, Sonet and Clarity, were two foul-mouthed, fist-talking, women you did not want to cross. The middle one, Naieve, the third girl, was as intelligent as she was sinister. The twin boys, Kit and Kat, cleverly nicknamed KitKat, were two dark souls with an appetite for torture. The youngest boy, Kyai, was the odd duck in the family. A happy and joyful boy with an aptitude for reading, and a strong sense of justice, and the youngest of the family was the fourth girl, Kresti, a girl who always copied her big brother Kyai. This family of ten, the Coldhearts, would become the center of their little village, Zelz, and later, the entire world.  In the small town of Zelz, on the ‘MayorVonAuker’-street, District B number 89; Kyai, at only two-and-a-half years old, was preparing for his first day of school. The young boy was a prodigy, but unfortunately for the boy, his family did not care for that, and the town did not care for the boy’s family. Which meant they did not care for the boy. On his first day, the boy was bullied for his name and his long curly white hair. When Kyai came home crying, his mother immediately, and roughly, cut off all of the boy’s hair. On his second day the boy was bullied for his new hairdo. This would spark a common practice in the boy’s life. He would, unwillingly and unknowingly, paint a target on his own back through his own strange behaviour. Because not only was he Kyai Coldheart, son of Karn Coldheart, a well-known criminal; he was also a strange boy on top of it all. Always with his nose in a book, or drawing imaginary things, speaking out-of-turn and being a “little know-it-all”, people would call him. “You’re too smart for your own good”, they would shout at him, angrily. The boy never understood this. Everyone seemed to say it as a warning, or even an insult. But the boy saw no downsides to being intelligent. “How can you be “too smart” for your own good?”, he’d ask them. “You’ll get it when you’re older”, some would reply. Others would simply call him “a nosy little shit”, and scare him off. By Christmas-time, in his first year of school, Kyai was already fed-up with the lacking educational system, as well as the lack of humanity in the people he would come across. Having become the only person of interest for both bullies and faculty alike, the boy became more and more withdrawn. By the end of Kyai’s first year of school, the extroverted happy boy had become an introverted shadow of his former self, but that would only be the start of the young boy’s misery.  

K.L. Runaya
4 1

Superfluous Happy Life Chapter 1 'I, Elamar' (unfinished)

    I, Elamar     To whomever it may concern; I; Elamar Mortrinaet, Prince of A’nderi’k, hereby detail the events of the fall of Tri-Earth, and the Kingdom of A’nderi’k, through my own experiences. It all happened so fast. We were all surprised. The people, the noblemen, the knights, everyone. I mean .. we all saw it coming. It just surprised us all by how fast things deteriorated, and then escalated from there on. It all began with a shadow and a politician. A charming one, he was. He said all the right things to all the right people. He knew exactly which buttons to press, where to press them, and when to press them for maximum effect. He was a genius disguised as a talk-happy buffoon. A well-dressed, oddly shaped, square-headed politician, and in his shadow; as always; the man who funded the insanity. Equally eccentric, if not more. The wealthiest man in the land, and sporting an even more disturbing appearance. They lied, cheated and bribed their way to the top of the social hierarchy, for all to see. And, somehow; their tactics worked. Somehow, though many still question how, they appealed to the masses. Horrified, all the people of the land watched as our people voted these two oddly shaped manipulators to take hold of the strongest, and once the most honourable, Kingdom in the land of Tri-Earth; A’nderi’k. I remember it still, the time before. How peaceful it was. The forests and fields were all lush and green, with vibrant colors everywhere. Hills adorned with flowers on all sides of the castle town of A’nderi’k. I was found at the gates of the town when I was a mere three years old. It is where I was adopted by the rulers of the town, the Mortrinaets, who would then create the Laws of Abundance within days of my adoption. A law, with quite the peculiar origin story. A law which made sure not one person would have more, or less, than the next. Not even the King or Queen. At first the people were disagreeable. The noblemen more so than any other, as they felt they had to give up the most. First and foremost, their titles and wealth. Some of them tried to enact an uprising by offering wealth to the poor, others fled the town looking to gather their riches elsewhere. In the end, it all did work out, and all did their part. The impressive consequence of the Law, however, was the motivation it gave the people once all was truly and well explained to them, and understood by them. The poor, who never had a dime, could suddenly have the wealth of what once was a nobleman, and the noblemen could in theory keep their wealth, or become even richer still; so long as all worked equally hard and as one, and so long as profits and productivity rose even more so that all could receive an even bigger share. A’nderi’k grew from a small mountain village into a large and open Kingdom of peace. Not even walls were set up to ward off enemies, for A’nderi’k only saw allies. I watched it grow with my very own eyes. People came from far and wide, and before my teenage years had even finished; we already were the largest and most thriving Kingdom in all of Tri-Earth. Impressed by the prosperity of A’nderi’k; but most of all that they had accomplished this all without any bloodshed; all of Tri-Earth soon proclaimed A’nderi’k as the new Capital of Tri-Earth and all adopted the Laws of Abundance for themselves, and the land prospered as it never had before .. until the shadows came. Though, none but a handful of my most trusted friends would ever believe you if you repeated what I said next.  Past midnight, on the night of my sixteenth birthday, I laid restless in bed. After tossing and turning for several hours, I decided to take a stroll through the castle. If only I had stayed in bed that night.. As I walked out of the hallway, I heard a strange sound. I assumed it was father or mother, because I could see a dim light coming from around the corner, where father liked to read his books by the open fireplace. I crossed the hall, went around the corner and as I wanted to walk inside of the room my foot froze, in mid-air. It was .. upsetting. I tried to push it down, but nothing happened. I wanted to yell out, but no sound came from my mouth. I tried to grasp at my throat, but my arms wouldn’t move. It was .. very upsetting. Then I heard that strange sound again. I still can’t quite explain it, even after all of this time. But whatever it was, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. I tried to look up, peer into the room. But I could barely make out a chair and a table in the dimming light. The fire in the fireplace was dying out. Then I saw my father grab a book from the chair, and take a seat, while my mother quickly followed and sat on his lap. They were giggling, I felt uncomfortable watching it, so I looked away. Maybe for the best.. Because moments later I heard my mother scream and immediately looked up, but it had already happened. My mother laid on the floor, in front of the fireplace, her throat slit deeply, down to the neckbone; while a shadowy figure had impaled my father through his chair and was staring right at me, with glowing red eyes. A shadowy figure in the shape of a man .. He looked so familiar.. But before I could take in this haunting figure, someone had snuck up on me from behind and knocked me out cold. When I came to, the next day, at midday, my parents were strutting around, as if nothing had happened the day before. I feared that I was going mad, had I dreamed it all? But it felt so real, and if it isn’t, then where did this bump on my head come from? I needed answers, but I couldn’t find any. The castle felt deserted. Later that day I learned that my parents had decided to abolish the Kingdom, and instead make it a democracy, and created a new profession they would call ‘politician’ and simply gave these “politicians’ power over everything, even the law. The word ‘politician’ still gives me the heebie-jeebies. My parents withdrew from public view, and my own. They renounced the tasks mandated by thrones and crowns and from then on only appeared on holidays, or other events. Standing at the highest window of the tallest tower of the castle, waving at their subjects. Barely even distinguishable from the ground if it truly was them. Which they couldn’t be, right? They were murdered! By a shadow! .. Oh God, I sound insane, don’t I? Just questions and more questions, never any answers, and before I could even find any answers, I was sent away from the castle and sent to an orphanage instead, though the politicians called it a ‘home for lost children’, and then things just kept escalating and deteriorating from there on. The politicians created a law they called ‘The Re-establishing Order Act’. Which outlawed all former poor people, all those who were referred to as ‘peasants’ or ‘commoners’ before the Laws of Abundance. Their wealth, belongings and houses were taken from them. The first ones they used as slaves to build massive walls around the city. Once the walls were finished, they gave the poor a choice. Twenty years in prison and then slavery, or to live freely, but in the harsh wilderness outside of the walls. Where the lush greens had traded places with a gray and dead wasteland. Most chose to live outside of the town walls, of course, and were thrown broken pieces of wood and tree bark from the top of the walls so that they might build their own shelter, and that they did. They build their own little town from the rubble and waste the city discarded over the walls. “See it as our final act of kindness”, they had told them all.  The ‘Home for Lost Children’ was located in this newly constructed town. The politicians called it ‘Superfluous’. No one really knew what the word meant, except for the politicians who always giggled when they said it. Insult upon injury. By the time I was old enough to leave the ‘home for lost children’, most other nations had followed A’nderi’k’s example. When their power grew, so did their shadows, and out of the shadows came two figures who would take control of A’nderi’k, and once they had taken hold of the capital, all of Tri-Earth followed next. Soon all forms of shelter, philanthropy, help, socialism and the like were outlawed, punishable with a lifelong sentence in the darkest, wettest, prisons they had. The adults fled Superfluous. Sadly the same was true for the orphanage. Our caretakers, if you could call them that, had all left before I even turned eighteen, leaving me as the eldest to take care of everyone else there, and the burden of their survival and safety. ‘The Superfluous Quintet’, we called ourselves. Though, we didn’t start out as a quintet. We were many, once upon a time. When the adults were still with us, there were seventy children, fifty five of us were orphans, and ten adults, a group of eighty in total. We also had three elderly couples and a widowed woman who lived down the street, who often came by to help look after all of the children. We would cook and eat together. Most of the Backstreets in Superfluous was made up of just the orphans, our caretakers and their own children. We had a whole neighbourhood all to ourselves, and even though I used to be the Prince, I think that may have been the most free I have ever felt in my whole life. One day, Charles, who had been sent to the store as the eldest at the time, came running home, sweating profusely. His black hair sticking to his face. I remember the panic in Marjorie’s eyes, at first; our head caretaker. But Charles quickly raised his hand and assured her that it wasn’t "anything profoundly terrible”. Which made Marjorie relax instantly, which made everyone else relax, and then he grabbed her hand, took her outside. Curious as I always am, I followed them, from a distance of course. I was born with a natural sense of stealthyness, a gift I was putting to good use. Charles took Marjorie all the way to the other side of the street, I followed them up to the big old oak tree that stood at the side of the street, and climbed it as fast and quiet as I could. I looked for one of the bigger, and thicker branches that almost reached to the other side of the tree, and crossed paths with a thick branch from the tree on the other side; this was not my first time doing this, of course. When I reached the other side, and climbed down the tree, I quickly moved behind a wagon and snuck up close enough to just barely make out the words they were whispering to each other.  “Are you sure?”, I heard Marjorie ask Charles, she sounded terrified, and then asked him again. “Are you absolutely sure?”. My heart was racing, and I had no idea why. I wanted to know what they were talking about, but at the same time I had this gnawing feeling that something terrible was about to happen.  “Yeah, I’m definitely, positively, absolutely sure about this. There was no one, not a soul”, Charles answered before I could plug my ears, now I was even more intrigued, Who wasn’t there, and where is ‘there’? What was he talking about? I wanted to know. “Oh, except for that old man”, I heard Charles mumble.  “What old man?”, Marjorie asked the right question.  “Well, he said he was from County One, said that all the trees started dying, so everyone started moving to County Two, but then he said it happened there as well; and when they wanted to go to 3rd County it was already happening there as well. So, he says, the old man says that the leaders all came together and they all just left Superfluous. He said that he decided to stay because he was too old, but said he was regretting it now, was looking for people to go with, and then asked me, and that’s when the bandits came”.  I remember what Charles said word for word, because everything changed for me the day I discovered the truth. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it saved us. “Bandits?”, I heard Marjorie ask. “And they’re coming this way”, I remember it still, the moment he said those words. My heart stopped for a whole second. They used to tell us stories about bandits to make sure we’d be home before dark, but we all knew that they were just stories. Until now.  “They shot the old man, right in front of me, five arrows, right in his face!”, Charles said quite loudly.  “SHHHH!”, Marjorie shushed him. “And so you thought to lead them here?”, she asked him.  “Well, what else was I supposed to do?”, he asked her.  “You could’ve thought of the kids”, Marjorie replied angrily. If only she knew one of the kids was listening, and it just happened to be the one with the biggest mouth on him..  “What should we do?”, Charles asked Marjorie. “They know where we live”, he said panicked, and I panicked. Almost loud enough that they heard me, but luckily a rat just happened to swivel by to take the blame of the strange noise they’d just heard.  “Yes, and how do they know where we live, Charles!?”, Marjorie asked Charles, I took a peak and she was shaking Charles, “Because you … you led them here!”, she yelled at him. “I .. I .. I had to come home .. I .. I”. I suddenly lost all respect I had for Charles, whom I had seen as the bravest of us all. Leading us through many dangerous situations, all made up of course. But now that real danger comes knocking, he just opens the door and puts everyone at risk? I was shaking with rage, and it would only get worse.  “You have to lead them away from here”, Marjorie said. “You’re the oldest, and you led them here, now you’re gonna make sure they stay away long enough, so we can escape from here”, she sounded angry.  “You want me to sacrifice myself?”, Charles asked, who had grown angry as well.  “It’s the least you can do after putting all of our lives in danger because you’re a coward”. I was baffled. I’d never heard Marjorie talk like that, not even in that tone. She no longer sounded angry. She sounded .. evil. My anger had traded places with fear. I felt the moment had come to retreat, and I carefully made my move back towards the tree, but not before I heard her say the words; “You won’t be the only sacrifice today”, it chilled me to the bone. But before I could even process the words, Marjorie wanted to cross the road. In a panic I crawled under the wagon, rather than behind it.  “Aren’t you leaving?”, Marjorie had stopped in the middle of the road.  “I need a minute to think, then I’ll go, don’t worry”, Charles said softly, even I could barely hear him and I sat closest to him.  “Good”, Marjorie said. She turned around and I noticed her glance rested upon the wagon I was crouched under, but only for a second.  “Yeah, good”, Charles mumbled to himself as Marjorie stepped back into the house. A whole minute went by, or at least, that’s how long it felt, when suddenly a hand reached down the wagon and pulled me from under it.  “How much did you hear!?”, Charles had pressed me against a tree. “How much did you hear, Elamar?”. I was afraid. Even if I’d lost respect for him, he was still the oldest, the biggest, the strongest. Of course he would be afraid of bandits with bows and arrows, but I’m not a bandit, nor do I have a bow and arrow. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, was all I managed to say. Fear stopped me from thinking straight. Tears started flowing from my eyes.  “Oh, no .. Elamar.. Come on, man. You’re already seventeen.. This shouldn’t scare you like this ..”, Charles said, utterly disappointed. It broke me in tiny little pieces. “Come on, it’s okay”, he grabbed me by my shoulders and spoke to me as if I was a child, and who could blame him as I stood there, sobbing like one. Charles sighed and then just left me there, “Just .. just don’t tell anyone what you heard, okay?”, were the last words he told me, and all I could do was watch him walk until he turned the corner, he didn’t look behind him once. I felt abandoned, again. I wiped my face clean and got ready to go back inside, when the front door swung open and Phil left the house, he was Marjorie’s husband, quickly followed by every other adult who lived in the house, as well their own children. Marjorie was the last to leave the house, hushing everyone. Phil, with Max and Jack, two of the other caretakers, had taken the horses from the stables and were moving towards the wagon. I contemplated my options quickly. I could confront them, ask them why they hadn’t brought along any of the orphans with them, but then I remembered Marjorie’s words. “You won’t be the only sacrifice tonight”, and I decided my safest bet was to climb back under the parked wagon. I watched how they put the kids and the elderly in their own wagon, along with their luggage, and then they left, headed in the opposite way of Charles. I didn’t wait until I saw them pass the corner. But before I could climb down, I heard footsteps and I froze. They sounded louder and closer by the second, I was too afraid to look up, too afraid to see who it was, too afraid that they might be the very bandits that were coming. Too afraid that they might see me. The running stopped just under the tree, and then they walked towards the house, I gathered my courage and looked, but I was too late, he’d already entered the house, all I could see was a foot. Not even ten minutes later the door opened again, it was Charles, I was filled with joy, he came to save us all. Only .. he didn’t. Followed right after Charles were all of the oldest kids. Charles was urging them to move quickly, they all passed under the tree.  “I don’t think I’m comfortable with leaving the little ones like that”, Molly said.  “Me either”, Isabella agreed.  “You didn’t even tell us anything”, Soraia said, I was madly in love with Soraia. Until this day, until this moment. “It’s not that I mind leaving these losers behind, but where are we going and who are we running from? Where are the adults?”, with each word she said, she grew more grotesque in my eyes.  “You can’t be serious, can you, Soraia?”, Jackson asked, he was my best friend. “I’m staying”, he stood his ground firmly.  “Then why did you leave the house?”, Soraia asked him.  “I didn’t want to make a scene inside and wake the littles”, Jackson replied to the new witch in town.  “We’re staying too”, Molly and Isabella said, they were the oldest after Charles.  “Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but I’m going back to bed”, Ishal said, he was the joker of the group.  “Fine, you can all die with the rest of the useless ones”, Charles growled, “We’re leaving”, he growled at the others, who all sheepishly afraid followed their wolf in sheep's clothing. They followed the direction the adults had left in, only to turn at a different corner. Following behind him were thirty-four teens.  “There’s only twenty of us left now”, I heard Jackson say, which hurt, because he forgot to count me. Why do they always forget to count me? I decided I could no longer stay hidden, “Dude, aren’t you forgetting someone?”, I asked my best friend from under the wagon

K.L. Runaya
3 1

The Promised Ones prologue 'Hello, There'

Hello, There   Have you ever seen or experienced strange things? Things you could not explain? A strange figure in the corner of your eye? But when you look nothing is there? Or a face in your grandmother’s carpet? But when you rub your eyes the face is gone? Or perhaps you’ve been able to answer a person’s question even before they asked? As if you already knew the question they were about to pop. Or maybe, just maybe, you thought you heard an animal speak in our human language? Even if just for a brief second. Even if it were just a single word. Have you ever had special friends that only you could see? Friends you would see daily, and who would even visit you in your dreams? Have you ever been bullied just for being yourself? When everyone else seemed to be poorly made copies of each other? Have you ever been told that you are ‘too smart for your own good’? When you were just trying to help? Have you always been the scapegoat? Even though everyone knew you weren’t the guilty one? Have you ever felt helpless and misunderstood, when all you wanted was to be accepted? Well then, perhaps and maybe; you could very well be a ‘Promised One’. One who is plagued by ‘Unwillings’, and this story might just be the very thing you have been looking for. The end to that gnawing feeling of being misunderstood. Finally an answer to your burning questions. “Who am I”? “Why does nobody like me”? “Why am I bullied”? “What is the purpose of life”? Well, maybe not the last one. But a ‘Promised One’ definitely faces the others regularly. You see, a ‘Promised One’ has a special aura that surrounds them. It envelops them. Each ‘Promised One’ has their own color, only seen by their fellow ‘Promised Ones’. This color can always change depending on their emotions. Or even by growing up. This aura is invisible to all ‘Normals’, but everyone and everything can sense the aura of a ‘Promised One’. Animals will tend to feel more relaxed around you, and bullies will tend to feel more agitated. Because the aura of a ‘Promised One’ is pure Goodness. In every sense of the word. It is the blessing of the Gods, and their warmth and love that shines through. The ‘Promised Ones’ are the chosen champions of the Gods. Every religion. Every God. Every country, every city, every household has their champions chosen at birth. Once chosen, you face a life filled with hardships. Designed to strengthen you. To bring you up. Then tear you down and force you to start all over again, your entire life, until you are called upon to join the fight. A ‘Promised One’ is gifted with eternal life, in a sense. At first they are called ‘Neos’. But ‘Neos’ do still age and die, and are sent to their preferred version of heaven. There they become ‘Paleos’ and await the final war, where they will be risen again to join the fight. It is a great honor to be a ‘Promised One’. So, don’t ever feel ashamed for being good, or nice. For being different, or weird. For being wise beyond your years. Don’t ever feel discouraged. You are not alone. You are one of billions. Spread out across history, time and space. But know also; that for each ‘Promised One’ there are five ‘Unwillings’ who are chosen as well. By the forces of evil and corporate greed. These ‘Unwillings’ are indeed the very people you are thinking of right now at this very moment. Yes, thât bully you know, and yes, thât politician says all those nasty things. ‘Unwillings’ are designed to sniff out the aura of a ‘Promised One’. They are single-minded creatures divided into two roles. The ‘Alphas’ focus solely on destroying the ‘Promised Ones’. While the ‘Omegas’ are designed to break the minds of a ‘Promised One’. They then force them into becoming ‘Unwillings’. These broken ‘Promised Ones’ become known as ‘Betas’. They are in every essence of the word the servants and shields of the ‘Omegas’.  So, please; my ‘Promised Ones’. Please, keep on fighting. Keep on struggling. Never give up. Because sooner, rather than later, it might be your turn to join the fight.

K.L. Runaya
5 1

The Symphonies of Life and Fantasy: Allegro/Run Prologue 'After the War'

0.1 After the War   This is the story of Enael, a man born from a God, and his family trying to survive in a world that wants them dead. Enael and his family are on the run from poachers. They want to see the heads of the God-kin mounted above their fireplaces. And hunters ,who crave God-flesh more than anything else.  “Shh, be quiet, Issa”, Enael hissed at his daughter. “We don’t want them to hear us”. Issa, a six-year old girl that had grown fairy wings that did not fly, giggled loudly. “But, papa, look”, she said, amused. Playing with a little bug that crawled over her fingers.  “You have to be quiet now, Issa”, her mother said. Issa admired her mother even more than she did her father. The beauty of her mother was beyond anything the girl had seen in others. She looked into her mother’s perfect green eyes, but they weren’t smiling. “I’m sorry, mama”, the girl said, bowing her head. She didn't like it when her mother's eyes did not smile. “You always get us into trouble, Issa”, her brother said, poking her in the side. He had a rough look to him, even at only fourteen, he was already growing a few hairs on his chin. And he was nearly as tall as his father. “You do too, Enalo”, Issa defended herself.  “Quiet now”, Enael told his two children, tapping each on the forehead. “They’re here”, he looked at his wife; “Isala”, he said, “I have to distract them .. somehow”, but he said it with such dread in his voice that it scared Isala to her core.  “What do you mean?”, she replied. 'Please don't say something stupid', she thought as she looked at the man she had loved for almost twenty years. “Just .. just look after the children”, Enael replied. “I’ll be back soon enough”, he said. “And keep them quiet .. please”, and he ran off. Isala reached out but came an inch too short to grab her husband’s hand and beg him to stay. He was gone, into the darkness of the night. Leaving her with the children. And the responsibility to keep them safe. A few seconds later loud banging could be heard. As if someone was smacking wood on rock. Then a shout. Isala couldn't make out the words, but she immediately recognised her husband’s voice. The group of hunters that were closing in on Isala, and the children' s location changed course. They got distracted by the noises and decided to march out and see where they were coming from. There were about six of them, Isala noticed. All dressed in the same brown leather with a hammer and coin emblazoned on their backs; the sigil of the House of Géad. Direct descendants of The Originals. Or so they claim. In truth, they stole the title of Originals from the first humanoids. The True Originals. House Gèad was the wealthiest House on the continent. They employed nearly all common folk, most of which simply served as lambs on the battlefield. Gearn Géad, the former Head of the Family. Was the first to create currencies by creating coins from gold and silver. He acquired these minerals from the mines he had claimed through bloodshed. He had used this to increase his sway over the continent and establish himself, and his lineage. As the most powerful House for several generations.  Isala felt an intense sense of fear seeing that hammer and coin sigil. The Géads are not known for their understanding nature. Any skirmish with them, no matter how petty. Would always result in a bloodbath. Isala feared for her husband's life. But Enael did not give her a lot of time to contemplate every terrible outcome. Another ten minutes later, after all of the Géad hunters were gone from sight. Enael suddenly popped back up behind his wife and kids. Before Enala had even begun her, and the children’s, escape. Scaring his wife so much, her face turned white. “See?”, he said, smiling a wide smile. “I told you everything would be alright?”, he then gave a confused look, “Why didn’t you escape though?”. “You scared me, you .. I was worried”, Isala said, caressing her husband's face before hugging him. “I was waiting for them to be far enough to not see us, or hear us”. Enalo and Issa shouted “Papa!”, at the same time. Forcing their parents to unlock from their embrace. And shush their two young ones, quite loudly themselves.  “Let’s go, we can’t stay here”, Enael said. Looking over the bushes to see if the Géads were still busy looking for him. “But where will we go?”, Isala asked.  “I was thinking about going to the Green Wizard”, Enael replied. His eyes seemed afraid to look at his wife, he knew her thoughts about magic. Ever since her own family had been tricked by hunters. They were promised safe passage. But were instead led to Slaughterhause. Overseen by House Adoìrs. A prison, of sorts. Though a place of torture would be a more accurate description. Isala's family never saw daylight again. “We can’t, Ena”, Isala told her husband. “We’ll put the kids in even more danger. They’re hunting magic users and God-kin. We’d be a buffet to them”.  “There’s no other option”, Enael argued. “It’s the only way we can secure ourselves. They’re whisking people up, to safety”, he said, he sounded so hopeful that Isala felt some of it seep into her. “Who is though?”, she asked her husband. If she'd let him. He would be with his head in the clouds every minute of every day. “The Gods, Isa, The Gods!”, he said, almost ecstatic. “They’ve come back for us, to save us”.  “Us too, papa?”, Enalo asked.  “Yes, my boy. All of us, anyone with magic and God-blood”, Enael replied.  “And we must go to the green wizard for this?”, Isala asked. "We can not ask another for aid?". “I know how you feel, darling”, Enael began, but before he continued, Isala interrupted him.  “This is not about my family”, she straightened her back and stood strong. "I can not let my children, òùr children, suffer the same fate as they have. This is about protecting the kids, Ena”.  “I know, my love. I know”, Enael replied to the love of his life. “But that is what I’m trying to do as well. Don’t you think we’ll be safer if we’re far away from here? Far from all of this destruction, greed and murder? Far from the Géads, Adoìrs, Fìachs and Cògas clans?”, he asked, but more loudly and angrily than he had intended. Isala flinched a little. “I’m sorry”, Enael said, taking his wife’s tender hand; “I love you”, he told her, kissing her hand apologetically. “And I you, my love”, she spoke softly, whispering it almost, as if it was just their little secret. Her green eyes got lost in his bright blue ones.  “We should move. There’s no telling when another round of guards will show up”, Enael looked into his wife’s eyes; “You know we must, don’t you? You understand why we must, right?” He asked her, spotting a hint of fear in her eyes that quickly changed to a mother’s determination.  “Let’s go see your Green Wizard”, she answered. “Where does the wizard live, papa?”, Issa asked her father, pulling on his pants. They had been walking for quite a while already. “Papa?”, the six-year old repeated, impatiently.  Enael hunched over to pick up his daughter. Then put her on his right shoulder and pointed towards a forest still many miles away. With trees so big, it seemed as if the green wonder laid just around the corner. “In The Forest of Fathach”, he said, as the family of four walked towards the forest. “Legend says that giants live in The Forest of Fathach. And that even the animals there are gigantified”, Enael said, waving his hands to mystify Issa.  “What’s.. what’s djaaj djaaj djifjied, papa?”, Issa asked.  “Gigantified is when animals become sooooo big. That you look like a tiny little pixie mouse to them”, Enael replied, smiling.  “I want a djadjadjifiej pixie mouse like that, papa”, Issa said. “Can I? Can I? Please?”, she begged. Enael merely smiled at his six-year old daughter, who was the spitting image of her mother. Except for her eyes, she had her father’s sneaky dark blue eyes.  The trees looked even more impressive from up close. Enael had to gasp at their magnificence and how small it made him feel. ‘What if the stories about the giants are actually true?’, he thought. ‘They don’t eat humans .. right?’, he asked himself in thought.  “What’s wrong?”, Isala asked, seeing the worried look upon her husband’s face.  “It’s nothing”, he replied. “Don’t worry”, he smiled. His face was pale. “What are you doing?”, Isala said, mockingly. “You know you can not trick me, husband”, she said, sure of herself. “I know you, Enael Sturm”.  Enael smiled at his wife, ever playful. “I was just thinking”, he said.  “Yes?”, she asked, batting her eyes. "About me, I wager", she smiled. Enael leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. So the children would not hear. “What if the legends about the giants are actually real?”, he asked his wife“. Do you think they eat people?”, he gulped loudly in her ear. “That is where your mind was?”, Isala asked, surprised.  “It was”, Enael replied, rather bluntly. “I thought you knew me?”, he jested.  “So did I”, she scoffed at him. Enael chuckled. “So?”, he asked.  “So, what?”, Isala replied, her eyes locked on Enalo and Issa, who had run a little ahead of their parents.  “So, what do you think? About the..”, Enael looked ahead to see if the children were out of hearing range, “..about the giants”, he whispered. Just to be on the safe side.  “Well, if there are any, chances are that we’ll hear them, right?”, Isala shrugged. “They shake the ground as they walk, right? At least, I would assume that they do. Being as large as they are. I find it hard to believe that they would be able to sneak up on us”, Isala said. “And if we come across any, we could simply hide in the bushes, they’re bigger than us”, she giggled. Pointing at a bush that towered over the family of four. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”, Enael sulked.  “Oh, honey”, Isala said, smiling. “They’re just legends. Giants haven’t been seen since the days of The Originals, the True Originals. And even of those Giants there is no proof they have ever really existed”. “There’s other creatures who lived during the times of the Originals. And they’re still alive today”, Enael replied, defensively. “Like the little colourful furballs who eat bad emotions that Issa loves so much". Isala touched Enael’s cheek with her right hand. “I’ll protect you”, she said.  “You mock me again”, her husband replied.  “No, no. I’m serious”, she said, smiling. “I shall protect you from all the wicked monsters in the forest, Enael Strum”, she winked. Enael sighed, “Let us put this topic to rest”, he said. Isala touched his cheek again and gave him a kiss on the lips. “Yes, let’s”, she replied. She turned her head to check on the children. The two had disappeared from her line of sight. “The kids”, she said, panicked. “The kids are gone, where are the kids?”. Enael moved instantly. In only two seconds flat he had moved all the way to the base of the next tree. Isala had her husband in her sights, and watched his body relax and raise his thumb. Isala felt herself relax instantly and ran towards her husband.  Enalo and Issa were sitting against the tree, they had found a small creature. It was wounded.  “Papa, look”, Issa said, excitedly.  “It’s hurt, papa”, Enalo said with worried eyes, cradling the creature in his arms. “What is it, papa? What is it?”, Issa asked, trying to pet the wounded animal.  “Don’t touch it, leave it alone!”, Enalo shouted, shielding the creature from his younger sister. “Calm down, calm down, both of you”, Enael commanded. He crouched down to take a better look at the creature. He had never seen anything like it before. It had soft shiny red and black fur with dots all over in different colours. It had a long body and a fluffy tail, and bright blue eyes that made it seem intelligent. “What is it, papa?”, Issa asked again, ever impatient.  “I have no idea”, Enael said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it before”, he said, just as Isala arrived.  “What are you two doing now?”, she asked, out of breath. “What is that?”, she asked when she noticed the creature in Enalo's arms.  “It’s hurt, mama", Enalo said. “We have to help it”. “We will, Ennie. We will”, Isala said, caressing her son’s head. She felt so proud of her eight-year old. “Let me see”, she removed her scarf and laid it on the ground. “Put it here”, she told Enalo, he very carefully, and softly, placed the animal on his mother’s scarf.  Isala checked the small creature. It had a small wound on its right hind leg, which seemed to be broken. “Go find me a strong stick”, she told Enalo. “Its leg is broken, we can at least make it a splint”, she said. “Though, I can’t do anything about this bleeding”.  “What about the Green Wizard, mama?”, Issa asked.  “That’s brilliant, baby girls!" Enael said proudly. "We should make haste and find the wizard". Enael plucked his daughter up from his shoulder, as if she were a piece of decoration. And put her with her feet back on the ground, then crouched down. "You know. Legend says that if you knock on a hollow tree and whisper for help in the tree, that hè will find you”.  "Really?" Issa asked her father. Her eyes sparkling. “So, we need a hollow tree?”, Isala asked her husband. She was ready to believe anything. Especially if it meant protecting her children from heartache. Losing this surprisingly adorable creature would hurt her precious babies too much. “Let’s find one”, she said. “Issa, you go with your papa. Enalo, you come with me. If you find something, shout for the others, and don’t go too far”, she said.  The search was short, very short. So short that Isala was startled when Issa was shouting for her. She thought danger had come, ‘Please, don’t be giants’, she caught herself thinking.  “Mama, mama!”, Issa continued shouting from just three trees further down. Which was quite a brisk walk. Every tree’s trunk Isala had seen was wider than any house she had ever seen. And she had seen a lot of houses.. “Mama, we found him, we found him!”, Isala’s body relaxed instantly. “We’re coming over!”, she shouted back. When Isala and Enalo had walked up to the second tree, they saw a glimpse of a rather short man. He was even shorter than Issa. The man was dressed in brown and green. And had a bushy orange beard and long messy orange hair, both had green flower buds in them. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the Green Wizard, Enalo ran towards him. He was still cradling the wounded animal in his arms, draped in his mother’s scarf. And fell to his knees in front of the small green man.  “Please, help her”, Enalo begged.  “Hmm?”, the little green man said, puffing smoke from a pipe he quickly tucked away in his beard. The smoke had a skunky smell to it. “What’s this?”, the Green Wizard asked.  “I found her like this, she’s hurt”, Enalo answered. “She is a he”, the Green Wizard said playfully. “And he is quite the rare find. He does not belong in our time. I shall help you, Little one”, the wizard whispered in the creature's ear. He then snapped his fingers above the little unknown animal and just like that, it popped up. Happy and healthy. It rubbed its head against the wizard’s beard, purring loudly. Though, it distinctly sounded like laughter. Enalo could barely believe his eyes, completely at a loss for words. He could merely sit there, mouth wide open.  “Mama, mama. He fixed the thingy”, Issa shouted happily when Isala had joined her family. "Oh, how lovely, my darling", Isala told her daughter. "Thank you, Green Wizard", Isala told the little green man. "Oh, no. No, no. There is no need for thanks", the green wizard smiled. He seemed to blush. Though it was barely visible in his red beard and hair. The wizard took off his hat and played with it a little. "Tis my duty, after all. And you may call me Green", he smiled a crooked yellow smile. Issa noticed the Green Wizard’s ears when the wizard had pulled down his hat. Large and pointy. Larger and pointier than any she had ever seen. Issa tried her best to touch them. But the tiny old wizard slapped her hand away at each attempt.  “Look at his ears, mama”, the girl giggled. “They’re funny”. She tried to grab the Green Wizard’s long and pointy ears yet again. “I’ve told you to stop doing that”, the wizard said. Slapping the six year old's hand away for the tenth time. “Issa, come now. We’ve talked about this already”, Enael said. Pulling his daughter away from the little green wizard. "You can't just do this to people". “But, papa, I want to play with him”, she said, letting her lip hang.  “I know. But he doesn’t want to play with you”, Enael said. “He’s an old .. uhm.. man?”, Enael scratched the back of his head. “Just let the man be in peace, we’re here to ask for his help. Not to terrorize him”.  “Papa, can we keep it?” Enalo suddenly asked his father. He was hugging the healed creature. Enael wanted to reply. But before he could the wizard snapped his fingers again. And the creature floated out of Enalo's arms and towards the Green Wizard.  “As I’ve said”, the wizard said, his index finger stretched out. “This one does not belong here”, he snapped his fingers again and with a loud pop the creature had disappeared. “Now, what is it that I might do for you fine folk?”, the Green Wizard smiled.  “What did you do to it!?”, Enalo screamed.  “Why, I’ve sent it back home. Of course”, the little green-ish man replied.  “Home?”, Enalo asked, suspiciously.  “Yes. Back to his time. Where he will be very happy to have returned to. For this one has an important figure to meet, and three others”, Green smiled. “Now”, he turned his attention back to Enael and Isala. “What was it again that I could do for you? Have you told me yet? I must’ve not heard you. Go on. Go on. Tell me your wish”, he said playfully.  “We.. we’ve heard that you .. that you help our kind”, Enael said. “We’ve heard that you give safe passage to those in need. That you whisk them away to the White City”, Enael pulled down the flap of leather he wore for a hat and revealed his ears. Not nearly as pointy as those of the Green Wizard. But not at all rounded like those of a human. Enael gestured to his family to do the same, and they all revealed their ears. “Oh. Oh, no. No, no no”, the Green Wizard said. “Not to the White City, no”, he said. “The magic supporting that door has all but been destroyed. To go there is to lock yourselves up for all of eternity. No, I send people to a new place, found by one of your own, one of the Demi-Gods. They’ve called it Demi-Earth. Our kind lives there in peace”, the Green Wizard said. “It’s a place with even more magic than here”. “Why don’t you live there, if I might ask”, Enael asked.  “Because it is my purpose to stay here and wait”, the Green Wizard said, nonchalantly.  “Wait?”, Enael asked, confused. “For what?”.  “Not for what, but for who”, the Green Wizard said, almost amused.  “Okay, then. For who?”, Enael shrugged. “Yes, that ìs the question”. The wizard pulled out the pipe from within his beard again and lit it with his pinky finger. He inhaled deeply and then blew out his skunky smelling smoke.  “So, you don’t know?”, Enael said. Clearing the thick white smoke that had made the little green man disappear.  “No”, the Green Wizard’s voice replied amused from within the smoke. “But I will once I meet them, I’m sure of it”, he said. “I’m not too worried”. Enael could just barely see the Green Wizard give a nonchalant shrug with his shoulders.  “No, you certainly don’t seem to be”, Enael said, starting to question the sanity of this wizard.  “So, what are you anyway?”, Issa asked.  “Issa!”, Isala shouted, shocked. “Behave!”.  “It’s quite alright”, the Green Wizard said, his eyes glazing. “Once upon a time. A great villain kidnapped a beautiful princess. But no one came to save the princess”, the Green Wizard said, immediately mesmerizing Issa. “No one?”, she gasped.  “No, no one”, the Green Wizard replied. “Then what happened?”, Issa asked, her eyes widening.  “Well”, the Green Wizard began. “They fell in love". "No!", Issa gasped. "Yes", Green smiled. "Even though they were of two different species. The great villain fell in love with the princess. No one had paid them any attention. That was, until the duo announced their wedding. Soon the whole world opposed their union”, he fell silent for a few seconds, his eyes saddened. “Well, long story short. That is definitely not how I was born. Now let’s send you all off to your new home”, he spoke quickly, but with a smirk curled around the edges of his lips. But he spoke so quickly, he left no room for anyone else to say but even a word. The Green Wizard grinned, bearing a few sharp yellowed teeth. He tapped his nose and with a poof, the family of Enael had disappeared and was sent off to their new home. “Oof”, the Green Wizard sighed. “That was a close one”, he said to himself. “Almost told them about mom and dad, and before you know it, Ì’m the one they’ll be hunting down”, he sighed. “You gotta be smarter about this, Relùq Tianse. You gotta be smarter about this, Relùq”. The Green Wizard emptied his pipe, refilled it and lit it with his index finger this time. “Gotta be smarter about this”, he mumbled to himself as he exhaled.  Enael and his family had found themselves on Demi-Earth. Where they were welcomed by another tiny little bearded man. This one’s beard was gray and white with red strings running through them. His head was hiding under a red woolen hat. But Enael quickly noticed that it was bald. He wore a red robe and had a bright red nose.  “I’m Red”, he said. “Welcome to Demi-Earth”, he gestured at the landscape around them. A vast and empty grassfield. The family was standing next to the only tree in a wide area. It had served as their doorway. “I’ll be taking you to the witch now”, Red said. “Oh, and whatever you do; don’t deny her requests. You’ll come to regret it, that you will”, Red chuckled. “Witch!?”, Isala said with disgust and disbelief. She grabbed her husband’s arm; “I never agreed to that, Ena”.  “I know, my love. I know”, Enael turned to the little red wizard. “Why are you taking us to see a witch?”.  “Because”, the red wizard grinned. He lifted his right hand and readied himself to snap his fingers. Enael pleaded “No, wai..”. But with a pop, the family of 4 had disappeared. Off to see the witch.  

K.L. Runaya
6 1