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I can't stick to one story can I..
Here's another one that I will sooner or later abandon. I'll try not to.
Prologue
Much to the contrary of the sun beaming brilliantly and the birds chirping gleefully, the crisp air carried the dark scent of pure hatred and loneliness. Greenery took much notice though. Moss grew slightly between the spaces the golden limestone floor; withering leaves and broken fragments of branches scattered not much far from the collapsed pillars which left nothing but rubble. It may be quite hard to believe but this place once held a temple. Not just any temple because it was the oldest temple in Econt and there was a special connection between it and another world. A cruel and unknown world named Earth. None of the citizens were familiar, even those of a really old age, with that world but rumors talk that there was a portal, concealed within the temple’s stone walls, leading to Earth. It is not sure whether it was true or false but that boy who lost all he cared for, that boy who stood quietly in front of the countless trees surrounding him, clenching his fists tightly and keeping his knife at sharp bay, that boy who ventured out to find a wise man to tell him about the portal and possibly, a way to get into Earth and avenge the is out there to find out. And his name is Vance Maximillian. And as he treaded the damp soil, as the sun directed its’ light at him and as his rag for a cloak billowed with the wind, the world guided him on his way. And the birds kept chirping. And the wind kept blowing. Softer and softer. Again and again.
Chapter One
Vance stopped roaming when he observed that it was getting darker. He would have to hunt food before the entire nightfall; it is treacherous out here in the shadows. He looked for a cleared place to sleep at later but he frantically searched for nothing; the wind just grew harsher and harsher every minute he spent on nothing. If the air became severe, it would be tough to find any animals at all; he gave up. So what he did next was most extraordinary. He closed his silver eyes and focused his mind intentl; he imagined a vacant space right before him. He then plunged his hands sidewards, his whole body radiating with a purplish black aura. His eyes flickered wide back open and sparked with the same aura, his pupils evident no more. Then suddenly, all the trees and bushes and what else appeared to float and move to another spot so as to empty a space for him. Seemingly, Vance was satisfied with the barren area so he sealed back his aura. As a narrator, I do realize that it is my job to explain while that lazy protagonist of ours goes for food. What you just saw was the special power the gods of the Kingdom of Econt bestowed Vance. When a person turns 13, an ability supposedly to help with their fate will be imparted to them. It can be anything really; invisibilty, shape shifting, nocturnal vision or what you just witnessed, telekinesis. But the thing is, the gods don’t actually tell you what it is; they have to find out for themselves. Some people know it immediately like those who are granted with the capability to see afar but some don’t. You might be wondering how Vance discovered his so I will tell you quickly before he gets angry I’m not concentrating on him and his stupid journey. He almost broke his container of the remains of his loved ones and his telekinetic ability just soared there.
And so, as I rambled on, Vance already caught a rabbit, a very puny one which depicts how good his hunting skills are, and found some edible plants and it seems he is set on just getting another bunch or so of tiny rabbits of if he was lucky, a deer or lamb but basing on his experience, he won’t go really far. He strided softly on the mud, careful not to step any twigs or bump into a branch and startle his preys. For half an hour, he found nothing. He was about to go back when he heard the soothing sound of running water. From there, he completely discarded the stealthiness. He dashed around the forest, mud grazing the sides of his shoes, stepping on twigs and ducking from the branches that hung high; he followed the sound of water, determined to find the location where he would have to get water from. He was getting close since the sound of water was getting more distinct. He then saw what he was looking for. In between two vast lands of soil was a stream of shiny blue magnificence. He scooped some water and splashed it on his muddy face. It felt so refreshing. He went back to his “camp†site and hopelessly slept on a bed of fleshy leaves.
Chapter Two
Our protagonist woke up to a not-so sunshine-filled day. The wind was as powerful as it was the night before. It was surely dusky for the sun did not sheen its’ brilliant light nor did the birds chirp wildly. Not even the clamor of the frequent rustle of the bushes or the breaking of twigs packed the air; this strongly hinted that something dreadful was about to happen but obviously, our eminently vigilant protagonist discerned that so he didn’t instantaneously get out of bed ins- er…bed of leaves that is. Instead, he yawned and spread out his arms broadly. Hah. They won’t grow any longer than they aren’t, Vance. He took a swift look around and figured it still must be early morning and was about to re-arrange the leaves so he can go back to sleep but then crashing footsteps came thundering around the forest. Vance swore he saw a minute ball of mud fly past him. He rushed to get his provisions and readied his knife. If he would have to fight, so be it. He’ll fight anything. Even if they’re forest trolls. Such determination should be praised but I’m not entirely sure if he’ll be brave enough to use the knife or be stupid again to use his powers. I’m sure that it’ll most likely be the second. Vance blazed with courage and entered his stance, his legs apart, knife thrust sideways and free arm dangling from the left. The vast troll emerged from the trees, charging towards Vance. Green icky snot was dripping from his nose. In a meter distance, Vance leaped high and tore the troll’s wool clothing, revealing the troll’s now exposed pale chest. The troll grabbed for Vance but Vance slumped on the ground right in time. He dashed towards the troll’s left foot and believe me, it wasn’t a good sight. Unclean mud in the untrimmed nails was visible; disgusting goo was erupting out from the heel of its’ foot. It was swollen and covered in blood-oozing scratching. And Vance will release more. He threw the knife directly at the middle and red liquid sprayed all over his face and the ground; he pulled out his knife, now scraped with troll blood.
The troll shouted in agonizing pain, lifted his severe foot and constantly rubbed the spot Vance hurt; it hopped around like a feeble kangaroo for its’ balance was long gone. Vance chuckled softly and almost tossed the knife to the troll’s chest but the troll clenched his hand around Vance and threw his to a trunk of the nearest tree; his body now throbbing with pain. He was angry and irritated. It’s time to settle it. But Vance’s body didn’t otherwise. He remained seated at the base of the tree, endless blood raining from the sides of his head. At least, he didn’t lose the knife and his hand was still closed around it. Now, it was the troll’s turn to laugh. He mimicked Vance about to project his knife then wrapped his hands around his neck and pretended choking. He actually spit out his saliva. Gross. That was the last straw. No pun intended. Vance rushed towards the troll and wafted his knife towards the troll’s side. It actually hit the troll and the troll fell down to the ground, destroying the bed of leaves Vance had carefully made. He felt relieved, the troll was big and strong but he was able to kill it. What joy. I don’t think it was big though. It seems tiny in this picture I’m looking at but seeing as how short Vance is, I guess I can see how that troll appeared large. Vance walked over towards the corpse when he suddenly felt exhausted and fell hardly on the ground. You want me to explain? Nah…I won’t say anything. Or explain. My mouth is sealed. Read the next chapter. What? I’m a lousy narrator? Well, excuse me. This is my job and is, therefore, my decision. Not yours so don’t you go “what-the-heck-just-happened-i-want-to-know-more-i-gotta-read-faster†on me. It’s annoying and please just blame the author. She’s the lazy one here, not me. Say what? You still think it’s me? Well, see you in the other universe, you weak reader. You have no power over me. Say goodnight to Vance now.
Chapter Three
Sunlight passed through airy windows, illuminating the wood that held this small house firm. A middle-aged man with pale blue hair with purple streaks for highlights plopped down on a small marble chair, holding open wide the daily newspaper. Hm...food shortage, leprechaun stealing money from the Hams bank and..what’s this? Dragons getting out of obliterated prison? But Econt’s prison is the most stringent in the country of Opare…
The man furrowed his thick eyebrows at the paper, reading with bare disbelief. Eh? A hundred Valnes for killing one of the dragons? Damn. The man needs the money. He slammed his hands on the table, shaking the cup of coffee and spilling the contents; a picture frame of a man with the biggest smile plastered on his face and a beautiful brunette with dandelion eyes was holding his hand fell and unfortunately broke. Memories shattered. The man couldn’t care less. She left him, taking away everything. Every Valne, every chunk of food, every piece of furniture but most importantly, she took away his son. Poor Promovere. He recalls when his son would look at him and ask mindless questions about the other dimension. His son was very curious with that planet he accidentally stomped on to. His mind raced faster than a cheetah and his face burned with anger as the thought of Earth passes him. That’s where he met Elise. He grabbed his brown coat and wore it over his tattered white shirt. The coat complemented the baggy blue jeans he was wearing and the hazel slip-ons. He burst open the door and the fresh air immediately entered his nose. Air from the lush plants that filled the yards of his house. He ran to his backyard and un-chained his red bike. The bike isn’t that fancy, just some headlights and all. But in that world, they call bikes frons. So, Promovere rode on his fron and pedaled as fast as he could. Getting to Econt will be a 30-minute ride. And as he pulled back his fron and parked it, he- what? Where did the 30 minutes go? Well. I don’t think it is necessary to go into detail. All that happened was a few stumbles and a flat tire and itching and sweating. Proves how old he is really. As he pulled back his fron and parked it, he asked a young man to where the town hall is.
The young man replied, “Uh…there in the middle, it’s the one with the lime green roof with the sword logos.â€.
Promovere muttered a thank you and set off. I guess the young man found it weird that such an old man didn’t know where the hall was. The bustling of the streets came alive and Promovere opened the red gate. And there inside was something unbelievable. Hundreds of frons packed on both sides of the ground, particles of sand swirling around them. Sensing some threat, he rushed inside. Cool air moved in and he inhaled it. He hasn’t been inside a room this fancy before. In the smack middle, a fountain flowed water repeatedly. The blue walls had real shells hammered onto it and the clear white floor reminded him of sand. Air conditioners stationed after a few inches or so. He walked towards the nearest workplace and asked the woman with red eyes, “Ma’am, do you know where a dragon escaped nearest here?â€.
“It went to the Arum Forest, sir. I suggest not going there in your condition.†She looked up and down and pointed at the clothes. Hah. I like this woman. Thinks like me.
“I don’t need fancy clothes to slay a dragon. Just my wits and guts.†He turned around and swept his coat backwards and left the building, feeling the same threat as he crossed the parking lot.
And back inside, the woman shouted, eyebrows furrowed and arm up in protest, “What? No thank you? How selfish.â€. And she went back to work, typing away furiously.
Chapter Four
Well. Now that the pictures the artist has drawn for this book are understandable and aren’t hastily drawn, I can now tell you how the Kingdom looks like. Back where the town hall stood, corals of different colors and shapes decorated the area’s vicinity. Which is weird since Econt is 500 kilometers away from the Nro ocean. The frons parked all had the same stickers on it. It was a blue sword, the sword that saved Econt more than 500 years ago, the Arcis sword. From what you may ask? Well, I’m not 500 years old am I? And I haven’t finished this book right? Then shut up now. So this Arcis sword filled basically the whole town. Frons, logos, clothes, medicine..you name it. Even that yellow Hams bank had it near the red glowing neon sign that said, “Enter!â€. I wouldn’t enter that “shack†if I were you though. If your eyes even survived that terrible invitation; mine didn’t so I’ll inevitably avert my eyes from that to continue narrating this story. Pointless chattering filled Promovere’s swollen red ears and I could really relate to his thinking as he walked against the rough rock floor.
“Young people are so bothersome these days.†He thought with almost a sigh. If most people his age didn’t suicide because of the hard times of their generation, maybe he wouldn’t think so. And…he died. Along with his wife and relatives. No one was left of the Maximillian and Land families. He left him like Elise did. Just that he did say goodbye first.
Promovere inhaled in and teleported to the flower shop he left his fron at. The fragrant smell of dandelion and roses occupied the air and it smelled relaxing. Promovere hopped on his blue fron with lion decals and sped away. And you guessed it right! Like all cities in Opare, the Republic of Thrax gave special powers to its citizens. And as demonstrated, Promovere here has the ability to teleport to anywhere he wanted to. Why did he drive all the way to Econt then? He wanted some exercise and isn’t lazy even though he’s amazingly old unlike a certain person in the Arum Forest who is now carelessly fighting a troll 8 times bigger than him. Why do I say now perhaps? I can turn back time you know. I can switch between characters I want to narrate because I’m a narrator and I can start at anywhere I want to even where I didn’t leave you off.
Promovere sharply turned left and swiftly charged into a small crevice between two vast pine trees. He glided to a cleared space, abruptly stopped his fron and jumped off. He cocked his head to the left then to the right and pushed out his hands. Tiny waves of green psychic aura erupted from them and chained the fron to a sturdy birch tree. Then he noticed the ground getting darker. He immediately looked overhead and saw a large figure with pale yellow wings flapping so hard that I would think that the clouds were trying hard to fall down on the ground. He smirked and teleported himself far above in the sky and fell harshly on the tough scales of the dragon he searched for. His elbow bled but at least the dragon took notice. It flailed its blue head around, trying to find the source of the sharp pain that slowed its flight. The long curly horns swung around eventually knocking Promovere off its’ body but Promovere knew what to do. He made another psychic rope and flung it toward its’ right horn, hoping it’ll be strong enough to grasp it since he just passed through a misty cloud. The rope swirled around and held on. Promovere made another one and tied it to the left one for when the right one fails. The dragon growled in frustration and tried to bite the ropes but its sharp teeth just passed through it and dropped saliva on Promovere’s shoes. He has to scrub that off for a long time. He took a deep breath and let go of the rope, soaring down like a meteor. He could even feel his body burning with his aura. He extended his arms and connected the ropes on the horn to the rope on his fron. A new fron won’t cost much if he had a hundred Valnes. He landed with a loud thud on the grass of the forest. Maybe a bone check-up won’t hurt too. His plan should be obvious enough. He will make the force drag the dragon down and hopefully crash into the endless lane of trees. Speaking of that, he looked overhead again and observed that the dragon struggled not to be pulled down by the unyielding strength of the psychic harnesses but it was long ago out-witted. It tumbled over backwards and was sent spiralling towards the trees and smashed into the many trees. Promovere rushed to it, made an aura knife and sliced its upper half from its lower one before it could regain consciousness. And yes, it passed through the body but it can kill. He traced the eye and plucked it out. No blood comes out because he used an aura knife which does just enough to kill it but not enough to hurt anything else. A distant roar from somewhere else in the forest boomed through where it stood with a dragon’s eye. Naturally, he dashed towards where he thought another dragon lay. All I can say is stupidity is present among young and old people.
Chapter 5
Vance opened his eyes and felt something amazingly soft and fluffy on his back. “Is this heaven? Am I just lying on a cloud, wondering if I am lying on a cloud? “ he thought. White blurry spots still blocked his vision but he can make out copious trees and a long strip of…silver rabbit fur? It seems like a hide of fur in the distance.
“I must still be in the forest…Yeah. I was rashly battling a troll.â€
Well. At least he admitted it. He sat up and found a simmering fire near him. Someone has kept him warm while he was out cold. See what I did there? Sure you do. He turned around and saw that the cozy thing he was lying on was really rabbit fur. That’s new. He finally guessed something right for once. As he twisted back around, his shoulder trembled of unbearable pain and he ponders on why.
“Hm. It hurts like carp. I just don’t know why. I don’t remember the troll hitting me there. He just damaged my head…â€
Upon realizing that the troll did do some injuries, he immediately groped the sides of his brainless head. The sides of his head felt clean like the blood has been cleared off. He looked at his hand for confirmation and like the feeling, there was no blood. He got up and walked towards the stick where the rabbit fur was hung. He grabbed it and sniffed it. Still smells fresh. He examined the inside and almost tossed the fur into the fire in shock. There…was no blood. Like the sides of his head.
I guess they’re on the same boat. Just that Vance is not so hairy compared to the fur. Not saying he isn’t though. Vance takes a closer look at the insides and noticed that it’s barely tinted red. But that’s impossible. Even the greatest hunter can’t just take out the fur without hurting the flesh. It’s just a far-fetched dream. Unless…
“Unless they used magic.â€
Vance swiftly glanced at his back for the initiator of the voice. He now gazed upon a slightly broad man with a shaved black mustache. The grizzled man glares back with his yellow eyes, his blue and purple hair swishing as the wind blew out the fire. He wore a long brown coat paired with a battered white shirt. He also sported loose blue jeans with hazel slip-ons that seemed to blend with the mud. Compared to Vance’s clothing, the man’s was regarded as high clothes. He just wore a thin blue shirt, a rag for a cloak and rolled-up pants that resemble farmer pants. Vance raised his eyebrows, implementing that he was suspicious.
“Who are you?! What do you want?!â€
Well. That came out too harsh. Pictures show millions of saliva droplets zooming through the air.
“You can’t say that without saying your own, kid.â€
“…â€
He remained silent, contemplating whether or not he should reply or just institute a swift escape. This ol’ man knew that someone would have to use magic to be able to get a hide of fur without blood bursting out. He is most likely the one who did it anyway. If he can use magic, then a breakout run would be pointless. He’ll be able to catch him for he presents a strong and fit image. In my point of view, Vance wouldn’t even reach 500 meters…maximum; he’s too weak and slow to even move his shoulders anyway. Giving up, he sighed.
“I’m Vance, Vance Rod Maximillian. fifteen years of age.â€
“Maximillian you say? You a relative of Taren Maximillain?â€
Ouch. Bet that hurt for Vance. To hear someone say his father’s name so freely like that…Doesn’t this geezer know that he died?! Well. Unbeknown to Vance, he does. But he masked his grief over his best friend remarkably well. And so he replied quietly but with the obvious hint that he was offended.
“Yes……â€
“Thought so. You look just like him you know? Gerry boy. I’m Promovere Krince Torge, world’s greatest psychic user…well. When I become famous and rich enough that is. I’m-er..48 years old…â€
Haha. Told you he’s senile and useless. Only three parts stuck to Vance’s mind. One: He knows his dad. Two: He’s an arrogant poor dude. Three: He’s aged like hell. Important parts? Part one and three. A frail man won’t be able to survive in the woods. Let able to travel this far. But if Vance’s brain finally (After 15 years of age I might add) started to work properly, his assumption that he was the one who handled the magic is the only logical reason he could be still alive. He did claim he was the world’s greatest psychic user. Psychic doesn’t hurt the organs of the prey. At least, Vance has the mercy to stop thinking and realize that there’s only one way to find out.
“You know my father? And..â€
Vance pointed to the jacket that still was hanging over the sturdy brown stick. Not that rabbits can wear jackets but I think you get my word usage.
“You did that too did you?â€
“Didn’t you listen, kid? I’m a psychic user. Psychic doesn’t hurt the parts that contain blood. It just hurts the spirit and soul. But it can cut. That’s common sense, er, what do young people call each other these days? …..Oh yeah, dude! Yeah, that’s common sense dude. Unless your brain’s switch was put on “shut down†your whole life that is.â€
Promovere sneered at Vance’s lame excuse for a shocked and hurt look. Well. If he didn’t acknowledge that he was brainless 15 years ago, it proves how much what Promovere (And I of course. I’ve been trying to tell you how lazy this protagonist is for ages!) said was true. For a senior to tell him he was witless, how dare he! If he could just take a look in the mirror and mind himself, maybe he wouldn’t do so. But he still hadn’t answered my other question.
“It was turned on oldie. Just that it was put on “careful and sure†mode. And for a super “intelligent†person like you, why didn’t you answer my first question then?â€
Careful and sure? Pffft. Yeah right.
“……I knew your father, Vance. He was my best friend. And I know he died. I know how much it stung when I said that. It hit me too.â€
“Best friend? Then how come I don’t know you?â€
“……..Because I betrayed him by marrying an Earthling when we both went to Earth……â€
Here's another one that I will sooner or later abandon. I'll try not to.
Prologue
Spoiler (Click to View)
Much to the contrary of the sun beaming brilliantly and the birds chirping gleefully, the crisp air carried the dark scent of pure hatred and loneliness. Greenery took much notice though. Moss grew slightly between the spaces the golden limestone floor; withering leaves and broken fragments of branches scattered not much far from the collapsed pillars which left nothing but rubble. It may be quite hard to believe but this place once held a temple. Not just any temple because it was the oldest temple in Econt and there was a special connection between it and another world. A cruel and unknown world named Earth. None of the citizens were familiar, even those of a really old age, with that world but rumors talk that there was a portal, concealed within the temple’s stone walls, leading to Earth. It is not sure whether it was true or false but that boy who lost all he cared for, that boy who stood quietly in front of the countless trees surrounding him, clenching his fists tightly and keeping his knife at sharp bay, that boy who ventured out to find a wise man to tell him about the portal and possibly, a way to get into Earth and avenge the is out there to find out. And his name is Vance Maximillian. And as he treaded the damp soil, as the sun directed its’ light at him and as his rag for a cloak billowed with the wind, the world guided him on his way. And the birds kept chirping. And the wind kept blowing. Softer and softer. Again and again.
Chapter One
Spoiler (Click to View)
Vance stopped roaming when he observed that it was getting darker. He would have to hunt food before the entire nightfall; it is treacherous out here in the shadows. He looked for a cleared place to sleep at later but he frantically searched for nothing; the wind just grew harsher and harsher every minute he spent on nothing. If the air became severe, it would be tough to find any animals at all; he gave up. So what he did next was most extraordinary. He closed his silver eyes and focused his mind intentl; he imagined a vacant space right before him. He then plunged his hands sidewards, his whole body radiating with a purplish black aura. His eyes flickered wide back open and sparked with the same aura, his pupils evident no more. Then suddenly, all the trees and bushes and what else appeared to float and move to another spot so as to empty a space for him. Seemingly, Vance was satisfied with the barren area so he sealed back his aura. As a narrator, I do realize that it is my job to explain while that lazy protagonist of ours goes for food. What you just saw was the special power the gods of the Kingdom of Econt bestowed Vance. When a person turns 13, an ability supposedly to help with their fate will be imparted to them. It can be anything really; invisibilty, shape shifting, nocturnal vision or what you just witnessed, telekinesis. But the thing is, the gods don’t actually tell you what it is; they have to find out for themselves. Some people know it immediately like those who are granted with the capability to see afar but some don’t. You might be wondering how Vance discovered his so I will tell you quickly before he gets angry I’m not concentrating on him and his stupid journey. He almost broke his container of the remains of his loved ones and his telekinetic ability just soared there.
And so, as I rambled on, Vance already caught a rabbit, a very puny one which depicts how good his hunting skills are, and found some edible plants and it seems he is set on just getting another bunch or so of tiny rabbits of if he was lucky, a deer or lamb but basing on his experience, he won’t go really far. He strided softly on the mud, careful not to step any twigs or bump into a branch and startle his preys. For half an hour, he found nothing. He was about to go back when he heard the soothing sound of running water. From there, he completely discarded the stealthiness. He dashed around the forest, mud grazing the sides of his shoes, stepping on twigs and ducking from the branches that hung high; he followed the sound of water, determined to find the location where he would have to get water from. He was getting close since the sound of water was getting more distinct. He then saw what he was looking for. In between two vast lands of soil was a stream of shiny blue magnificence. He scooped some water and splashed it on his muddy face. It felt so refreshing. He went back to his “camp†site and hopelessly slept on a bed of fleshy leaves.
Chapter Two
Spoiler (Click to View)
Our protagonist woke up to a not-so sunshine-filled day. The wind was as powerful as it was the night before. It was surely dusky for the sun did not sheen its’ brilliant light nor did the birds chirp wildly. Not even the clamor of the frequent rustle of the bushes or the breaking of twigs packed the air; this strongly hinted that something dreadful was about to happen but obviously, our eminently vigilant protagonist discerned that so he didn’t instantaneously get out of bed ins- er…bed of leaves that is. Instead, he yawned and spread out his arms broadly. Hah. They won’t grow any longer than they aren’t, Vance. He took a swift look around and figured it still must be early morning and was about to re-arrange the leaves so he can go back to sleep but then crashing footsteps came thundering around the forest. Vance swore he saw a minute ball of mud fly past him. He rushed to get his provisions and readied his knife. If he would have to fight, so be it. He’ll fight anything. Even if they’re forest trolls. Such determination should be praised but I’m not entirely sure if he’ll be brave enough to use the knife or be stupid again to use his powers. I’m sure that it’ll most likely be the second. Vance blazed with courage and entered his stance, his legs apart, knife thrust sideways and free arm dangling from the left. The vast troll emerged from the trees, charging towards Vance. Green icky snot was dripping from his nose. In a meter distance, Vance leaped high and tore the troll’s wool clothing, revealing the troll’s now exposed pale chest. The troll grabbed for Vance but Vance slumped on the ground right in time. He dashed towards the troll’s left foot and believe me, it wasn’t a good sight. Unclean mud in the untrimmed nails was visible; disgusting goo was erupting out from the heel of its’ foot. It was swollen and covered in blood-oozing scratching. And Vance will release more. He threw the knife directly at the middle and red liquid sprayed all over his face and the ground; he pulled out his knife, now scraped with troll blood.
The troll shouted in agonizing pain, lifted his severe foot and constantly rubbed the spot Vance hurt; it hopped around like a feeble kangaroo for its’ balance was long gone. Vance chuckled softly and almost tossed the knife to the troll’s chest but the troll clenched his hand around Vance and threw his to a trunk of the nearest tree; his body now throbbing with pain. He was angry and irritated. It’s time to settle it. But Vance’s body didn’t otherwise. He remained seated at the base of the tree, endless blood raining from the sides of his head. At least, he didn’t lose the knife and his hand was still closed around it. Now, it was the troll’s turn to laugh. He mimicked Vance about to project his knife then wrapped his hands around his neck and pretended choking. He actually spit out his saliva. Gross. That was the last straw. No pun intended. Vance rushed towards the troll and wafted his knife towards the troll’s side. It actually hit the troll and the troll fell down to the ground, destroying the bed of leaves Vance had carefully made. He felt relieved, the troll was big and strong but he was able to kill it. What joy. I don’t think it was big though. It seems tiny in this picture I’m looking at but seeing as how short Vance is, I guess I can see how that troll appeared large. Vance walked over towards the corpse when he suddenly felt exhausted and fell hardly on the ground. You want me to explain? Nah…I won’t say anything. Or explain. My mouth is sealed. Read the next chapter. What? I’m a lousy narrator? Well, excuse me. This is my job and is, therefore, my decision. Not yours so don’t you go “what-the-heck-just-happened-i-want-to-know-more-i-gotta-read-faster†on me. It’s annoying and please just blame the author. She’s the lazy one here, not me. Say what? You still think it’s me? Well, see you in the other universe, you weak reader. You have no power over me. Say goodnight to Vance now.
Chapter Three
Spoiler (Click to View)
Sunlight passed through airy windows, illuminating the wood that held this small house firm. A middle-aged man with pale blue hair with purple streaks for highlights plopped down on a small marble chair, holding open wide the daily newspaper. Hm...food shortage, leprechaun stealing money from the Hams bank and..what’s this? Dragons getting out of obliterated prison? But Econt’s prison is the most stringent in the country of Opare…
The man furrowed his thick eyebrows at the paper, reading with bare disbelief. Eh? A hundred Valnes for killing one of the dragons? Damn. The man needs the money. He slammed his hands on the table, shaking the cup of coffee and spilling the contents; a picture frame of a man with the biggest smile plastered on his face and a beautiful brunette with dandelion eyes was holding his hand fell and unfortunately broke. Memories shattered. The man couldn’t care less. She left him, taking away everything. Every Valne, every chunk of food, every piece of furniture but most importantly, she took away his son. Poor Promovere. He recalls when his son would look at him and ask mindless questions about the other dimension. His son was very curious with that planet he accidentally stomped on to. His mind raced faster than a cheetah and his face burned with anger as the thought of Earth passes him. That’s where he met Elise. He grabbed his brown coat and wore it over his tattered white shirt. The coat complemented the baggy blue jeans he was wearing and the hazel slip-ons. He burst open the door and the fresh air immediately entered his nose. Air from the lush plants that filled the yards of his house. He ran to his backyard and un-chained his red bike. The bike isn’t that fancy, just some headlights and all. But in that world, they call bikes frons. So, Promovere rode on his fron and pedaled as fast as he could. Getting to Econt will be a 30-minute ride. And as he pulled back his fron and parked it, he- what? Where did the 30 minutes go? Well. I don’t think it is necessary to go into detail. All that happened was a few stumbles and a flat tire and itching and sweating. Proves how old he is really. As he pulled back his fron and parked it, he asked a young man to where the town hall is.
The young man replied, “Uh…there in the middle, it’s the one with the lime green roof with the sword logos.â€.
Promovere muttered a thank you and set off. I guess the young man found it weird that such an old man didn’t know where the hall was. The bustling of the streets came alive and Promovere opened the red gate. And there inside was something unbelievable. Hundreds of frons packed on both sides of the ground, particles of sand swirling around them. Sensing some threat, he rushed inside. Cool air moved in and he inhaled it. He hasn’t been inside a room this fancy before. In the smack middle, a fountain flowed water repeatedly. The blue walls had real shells hammered onto it and the clear white floor reminded him of sand. Air conditioners stationed after a few inches or so. He walked towards the nearest workplace and asked the woman with red eyes, “Ma’am, do you know where a dragon escaped nearest here?â€.
“It went to the Arum Forest, sir. I suggest not going there in your condition.†She looked up and down and pointed at the clothes. Hah. I like this woman. Thinks like me.
“I don’t need fancy clothes to slay a dragon. Just my wits and guts.†He turned around and swept his coat backwards and left the building, feeling the same threat as he crossed the parking lot.
And back inside, the woman shouted, eyebrows furrowed and arm up in protest, “What? No thank you? How selfish.â€. And she went back to work, typing away furiously.
Chapter Four
Spoiler (Click to View)
Well. Now that the pictures the artist has drawn for this book are understandable and aren’t hastily drawn, I can now tell you how the Kingdom looks like. Back where the town hall stood, corals of different colors and shapes decorated the area’s vicinity. Which is weird since Econt is 500 kilometers away from the Nro ocean. The frons parked all had the same stickers on it. It was a blue sword, the sword that saved Econt more than 500 years ago, the Arcis sword. From what you may ask? Well, I’m not 500 years old am I? And I haven’t finished this book right? Then shut up now. So this Arcis sword filled basically the whole town. Frons, logos, clothes, medicine..you name it. Even that yellow Hams bank had it near the red glowing neon sign that said, “Enter!â€. I wouldn’t enter that “shack†if I were you though. If your eyes even survived that terrible invitation; mine didn’t so I’ll inevitably avert my eyes from that to continue narrating this story. Pointless chattering filled Promovere’s swollen red ears and I could really relate to his thinking as he walked against the rough rock floor.
“Young people are so bothersome these days.†He thought with almost a sigh. If most people his age didn’t suicide because of the hard times of their generation, maybe he wouldn’t think so. And…he died. Along with his wife and relatives. No one was left of the Maximillian and Land families. He left him like Elise did. Just that he did say goodbye first.
Promovere inhaled in and teleported to the flower shop he left his fron at. The fragrant smell of dandelion and roses occupied the air and it smelled relaxing. Promovere hopped on his blue fron with lion decals and sped away. And you guessed it right! Like all cities in Opare, the Republic of Thrax gave special powers to its citizens. And as demonstrated, Promovere here has the ability to teleport to anywhere he wanted to. Why did he drive all the way to Econt then? He wanted some exercise and isn’t lazy even though he’s amazingly old unlike a certain person in the Arum Forest who is now carelessly fighting a troll 8 times bigger than him. Why do I say now perhaps? I can turn back time you know. I can switch between characters I want to narrate because I’m a narrator and I can start at anywhere I want to even where I didn’t leave you off.
Promovere sharply turned left and swiftly charged into a small crevice between two vast pine trees. He glided to a cleared space, abruptly stopped his fron and jumped off. He cocked his head to the left then to the right and pushed out his hands. Tiny waves of green psychic aura erupted from them and chained the fron to a sturdy birch tree. Then he noticed the ground getting darker. He immediately looked overhead and saw a large figure with pale yellow wings flapping so hard that I would think that the clouds were trying hard to fall down on the ground. He smirked and teleported himself far above in the sky and fell harshly on the tough scales of the dragon he searched for. His elbow bled but at least the dragon took notice. It flailed its blue head around, trying to find the source of the sharp pain that slowed its flight. The long curly horns swung around eventually knocking Promovere off its’ body but Promovere knew what to do. He made another psychic rope and flung it toward its’ right horn, hoping it’ll be strong enough to grasp it since he just passed through a misty cloud. The rope swirled around and held on. Promovere made another one and tied it to the left one for when the right one fails. The dragon growled in frustration and tried to bite the ropes but its sharp teeth just passed through it and dropped saliva on Promovere’s shoes. He has to scrub that off for a long time. He took a deep breath and let go of the rope, soaring down like a meteor. He could even feel his body burning with his aura. He extended his arms and connected the ropes on the horn to the rope on his fron. A new fron won’t cost much if he had a hundred Valnes. He landed with a loud thud on the grass of the forest. Maybe a bone check-up won’t hurt too. His plan should be obvious enough. He will make the force drag the dragon down and hopefully crash into the endless lane of trees. Speaking of that, he looked overhead again and observed that the dragon struggled not to be pulled down by the unyielding strength of the psychic harnesses but it was long ago out-witted. It tumbled over backwards and was sent spiralling towards the trees and smashed into the many trees. Promovere rushed to it, made an aura knife and sliced its upper half from its lower one before it could regain consciousness. And yes, it passed through the body but it can kill. He traced the eye and plucked it out. No blood comes out because he used an aura knife which does just enough to kill it but not enough to hurt anything else. A distant roar from somewhere else in the forest boomed through where it stood with a dragon’s eye. Naturally, he dashed towards where he thought another dragon lay. All I can say is stupidity is present among young and old people.
Chapter 5
Spoiler (Click to View)
Vance opened his eyes and felt something amazingly soft and fluffy on his back. “Is this heaven? Am I just lying on a cloud, wondering if I am lying on a cloud? “ he thought. White blurry spots still blocked his vision but he can make out copious trees and a long strip of…silver rabbit fur? It seems like a hide of fur in the distance.
“I must still be in the forest…Yeah. I was rashly battling a troll.â€
Well. At least he admitted it. He sat up and found a simmering fire near him. Someone has kept him warm while he was out cold. See what I did there? Sure you do. He turned around and saw that the cozy thing he was lying on was really rabbit fur. That’s new. He finally guessed something right for once. As he twisted back around, his shoulder trembled of unbearable pain and he ponders on why.
“Hm. It hurts like carp. I just don’t know why. I don’t remember the troll hitting me there. He just damaged my head…â€
Upon realizing that the troll did do some injuries, he immediately groped the sides of his brainless head. The sides of his head felt clean like the blood has been cleared off. He looked at his hand for confirmation and like the feeling, there was no blood. He got up and walked towards the stick where the rabbit fur was hung. He grabbed it and sniffed it. Still smells fresh. He examined the inside and almost tossed the fur into the fire in shock. There…was no blood. Like the sides of his head.
I guess they’re on the same boat. Just that Vance is not so hairy compared to the fur. Not saying he isn’t though. Vance takes a closer look at the insides and noticed that it’s barely tinted red. But that’s impossible. Even the greatest hunter can’t just take out the fur without hurting the flesh. It’s just a far-fetched dream. Unless…
“Unless they used magic.â€
Vance swiftly glanced at his back for the initiator of the voice. He now gazed upon a slightly broad man with a shaved black mustache. The grizzled man glares back with his yellow eyes, his blue and purple hair swishing as the wind blew out the fire. He wore a long brown coat paired with a battered white shirt. He also sported loose blue jeans with hazel slip-ons that seemed to blend with the mud. Compared to Vance’s clothing, the man’s was regarded as high clothes. He just wore a thin blue shirt, a rag for a cloak and rolled-up pants that resemble farmer pants. Vance raised his eyebrows, implementing that he was suspicious.
“Who are you?! What do you want?!â€
Well. That came out too harsh. Pictures show millions of saliva droplets zooming through the air.
“You can’t say that without saying your own, kid.â€
“…â€
He remained silent, contemplating whether or not he should reply or just institute a swift escape. This ol’ man knew that someone would have to use magic to be able to get a hide of fur without blood bursting out. He is most likely the one who did it anyway. If he can use magic, then a breakout run would be pointless. He’ll be able to catch him for he presents a strong and fit image. In my point of view, Vance wouldn’t even reach 500 meters…maximum; he’s too weak and slow to even move his shoulders anyway. Giving up, he sighed.
“I’m Vance, Vance Rod Maximillian. fifteen years of age.â€
“Maximillian you say? You a relative of Taren Maximillain?â€
Ouch. Bet that hurt for Vance. To hear someone say his father’s name so freely like that…Doesn’t this geezer know that he died?! Well. Unbeknown to Vance, he does. But he masked his grief over his best friend remarkably well. And so he replied quietly but with the obvious hint that he was offended.
“Yes……â€
“Thought so. You look just like him you know? Gerry boy. I’m Promovere Krince Torge, world’s greatest psychic user…well. When I become famous and rich enough that is. I’m-er..48 years old…â€
Haha. Told you he’s senile and useless. Only three parts stuck to Vance’s mind. One: He knows his dad. Two: He’s an arrogant poor dude. Three: He’s aged like hell. Important parts? Part one and three. A frail man won’t be able to survive in the woods. Let able to travel this far. But if Vance’s brain finally (After 15 years of age I might add) started to work properly, his assumption that he was the one who handled the magic is the only logical reason he could be still alive. He did claim he was the world’s greatest psychic user. Psychic doesn’t hurt the organs of the prey. At least, Vance has the mercy to stop thinking and realize that there’s only one way to find out.
“You know my father? And..â€
Vance pointed to the jacket that still was hanging over the sturdy brown stick. Not that rabbits can wear jackets but I think you get my word usage.
“You did that too did you?â€
“Didn’t you listen, kid? I’m a psychic user. Psychic doesn’t hurt the parts that contain blood. It just hurts the spirit and soul. But it can cut. That’s common sense, er, what do young people call each other these days? …..Oh yeah, dude! Yeah, that’s common sense dude. Unless your brain’s switch was put on “shut down†your whole life that is.â€
Promovere sneered at Vance’s lame excuse for a shocked and hurt look. Well. If he didn’t acknowledge that he was brainless 15 years ago, it proves how much what Promovere (And I of course. I’ve been trying to tell you how lazy this protagonist is for ages!) said was true. For a senior to tell him he was witless, how dare he! If he could just take a look in the mirror and mind himself, maybe he wouldn’t do so. But he still hadn’t answered my other question.
“It was turned on oldie. Just that it was put on “careful and sure†mode. And for a super “intelligent†person like you, why didn’t you answer my first question then?â€
Careful and sure? Pffft. Yeah right.
“……I knew your father, Vance. He was my best friend. And I know he died. I know how much it stung when I said that. It hit me too.â€
“Best friend? Then how come I don’t know you?â€
“……..Because I betrayed him by marrying an Earthling when we both went to Earth……â€
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