It's time.
My final project for my rapid prototyping of digital games class is finished.
I'm sharing it here, so you may all enjoy what is likely my best work this semester. I should like to also note that it includes an original soundtrack that I composed myself as background music. ENJOY!
You can find it here.
It has been updated, including all the fixes and changes made to balance the game, lengthen its duration, and most importantly of all, make it more interesting!
For comparison, you may feel free to check out the original here.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Too long since my last post!
Wow, I think about it, and it has been weeks since I last posted anything on my blog!
I'm so very sorry!
To make up for this, how about a pretty (sparkle filled) game that I made for class!?
Sound good?
Great, it's called Starlight Path!
Enjoy!
I'm so very sorry!
To make up for this, how about a pretty (sparkle filled) game that I made for class!?
Sound good?
Great, it's called Starlight Path!
Enjoy!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Another week, and a game with levels!
This week, I am posting a game which is actually a sequel to another game!
The original game, SSShifty, can be found in the Pirate Kart for this year. (IGF Pirate Kart 2012)
My sequel to this game is SSShifty 2! Unlike the original, you can also swap blocks, enemies, and mines without having to swap your location! Simply use the swap gun (press C to use).
Enjoy SSShifty 2!
The original game, SSShifty, can be found in the Pirate Kart for this year. (IGF Pirate Kart 2012)
My sequel to this game is SSShifty 2! Unlike the original, you can also swap blocks, enemies, and mines without having to swap your location! Simply use the swap gun (press C to use).
Enjoy SSShifty 2!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Hurtful reality
You may or may not have realized this, but sometimes life is the worst.
I can think of many times in which life has treated me right, but there come times when occasionally, I meet the point where life has decided (for whatever reason) to thrash me up one side and down the other.
As many of my friends know, I'm not on pleasant terms with my step-father. We have had a very rocky relationship for the longest time. Many times he has said "I love you", but few times has he shown it.
Tonight is one of the worst nights I have had in years. Ever since I was 11 years old, I've been lectured on who I should be and why by the people around me. Some of those people I cared about, like my grandmother. Others I cared nothing about them, like my vice-principals.
Tonight, my step-father decided to confront me on some very basic thoughts I have on both my life as a whole as well as my spiritual walk. For about 20 minutes, we were involved in a gradually escalating argument, which ultimately resulted in my mother intervening to bring to a halt. This did not occur, however, until my step-father used the name of my best friend (who had lived with us and recently moved out to be with his fiancee, causing me great sadness knowing he was moving and also great joy knowing he would be happy) as an insult. A slur, calling me by my friend's name to insult me, and simultaneously insulting my best friend and most important relationship.
Everyone has moments when they are hurtful to others. Sometimes it is an intentional thing, sometimes it is not. However much I would like to believe that my step-father didn't mean to be hurtful, I know that he was... at least when he made his last comment (the insult using my friend's name). Many times I have forgiven my step-father for being a man who desires respect, but gives none (or very little). Many more times I have forgiven my step-father for teaching me through his actions and his words that I am not a good person. More times, even, have I forgiven him for actions he took that involved him shirking his responsibilities as a parent. I am a forgiving person, because of the pain I have felt it comes in my nature.
Tonight, however, was a terrible blow. After weeks of feeling isolated, as if I had nobody to talk to, feeling forgotten and alone, the fatal blow is that my step-father sees fit to argue with me, and ultimately make veiled commentary about how I'm a terrible person, and how I shall be going to hell.
So, for those of you who do not know how arguments with my step-father go, let me give you the outline:
1) An issue is brought up. Whichever party does this does not matter, for this is just the start.
2) Now that the issue is at hand, expect my step-father to tell you his unsolicited opinion.
3) You may now provide your opinion, feel free to insert it here.
4) He will now provide you his opinion, and make an argument against yours, and probably include an ad-hominem or straw man fallacy with it. Also, expect at least one non-sequitur argument here.
5) You have many options at this point, respond however you wish.
6) Now that you have responded expect him to ignore any points you make, and make an argument using a logical fallacy that is known as denying the antecedent. Also, expect him to accentuate his argument with another non-sequitur.
7) If you make a rebuttal here, go on to step 8.
8) Now ignoring whatever you just said, or taking it out of context (eg. straw man), you can expect him to suggest that anything you have mentioned based on what he has said was your fault. (Eg. if he said something first, such as "all oranges are red in Canada", and later you tried to mention that according to him all oranges are red in Canada, he will imply that you suggested that, not him.) If you did not comment on anything he just said move on to 10.
9) He is now going to tell you that he doesn't need to provide a logical reason for anything he has been arguing, because he's automatically correct. (He is automatically correct because he's not going to claim responsibility for believing something, but rather pawn responsibility on someone with more authority, such as "God says so.")
10) At this stage, he now will make references to his proof, without having any knowledge of his proofs, and also without presenting any of them. However, he expects you to claim them as true, valid, and legitimate in spite of the lack of evidence to support him.
11) You may now make a counter argument, however he will interrupt you two words into it, and prevent you from saying anything in your defense.
12) He will now repeat everything he has said, and/or make a claim that you have been putting words into his mouth (which, I might add, is true... however, the words you're putting in his mouth are his own)
13) You may now attempt to call him out on his logical fallacies, or continue to make arguments, however know that if you do anything other than agree with him or let him win by ending the argument (you stop talking and walk away), he will continue to contradict you and himself in every way, while still making references to his proofs that he knows nothing about and has not presented.
14) You may repeat steps 2-13 as many times as you would like here, he is more than happy to continue spouting nonsense, telling you what he thinks, and ignoring or attacking you.
15) If someone intervenes, congratulations, you have lost, and he will make sure to get the last word.
16) If nobody intervenes, congratulations, you have not won, return to step 2 unless he gets angry, in which case move on to step 17.
17) He is now angry, expect him to yell as loudly as he can directly at you for as long as possible until you shut up. If you do not shut up, repeat steps 2-13 with 17 as part of each step. If you do shut up, proceed to step 18.
18) You have shut up, he will now insult you, remind you that he is right and that you are wrong, and essentially slap you in the face verbally one more time, adding insult to injury. He gets the last word. If you attempt to respond to his last word, return to step 3.
So, what do I find the most hurtful about his attitudes, and specifically his arguments? There are several things, but they are as follows (but in no particular order): he's family (and therefore should be supportive, but instead is destructive), he's stubborn (he ultimately follows the logical fallacy of Circular reasoning), and he's prideful (thus even if you have proven him wrong in no uncertain terms and have put the proof directly in front of him, he will still assert that he is correct). It comes down to the fact that more often than not, I feel like he doesn't love me, but rather he feels obligated to do anything he does because he doesn't want his wife to divorce him.
How am I to take any of this? Ultimately, I do not know. I cannot talk to him, for he won't listen. I could leave, but to do that requires financial stability that I do not currently have. I could ignore that all this has happened, but that's simply putting off until tomorrow dealing with this situation.
It comes down to this: in the most fragile time in my life that I have had in the last 4 years (and one of the most fragile times I've ever had), my step-father has once again proven that I might as well not exist. The sad part is, on a very deep level, I believe him. I feel little or no connection to the people around me. Everyone I have cared about in the past (aside from my mother, sister, grandfather, and grandmothers) have left me, treated me horribly (starting at some random point, and then continuing on indefinitely), or have stood idly by while my life has fallen to pieces while laughing at me.
I am anguished, saddened, deeply hurt and emotionally scarred. Before, I had little self-worth, but I felt confident that it was all imaginary. I had determined that I could overcome my deficiencies and be worth something. Now, I'm facing a point where I don't want to feel worth, I don't see any worth, and I'm being told that I'm worthless. More and more, I feel like an imposition on those around me, and like a leech rather than a friend.
I have started to wonder why I bother with trying to be nice to people. If good things and bad things happen to both good and bad people, what reason do I have to be good when it requires so much more of me?
I have for the past several months, perhaps even a bit more than a year (as time gets a bit fuzzy to me in this regard), felt stoic. Most of the time, I have had no feelings at all. The few times I have genuinely felt emotions they were negative over 90% of the time. For the sake of others around me, I have pretended as if I felt. When they expected happiness, I pretended I was happy. When they expected me to be surprised, I was surprised. When I was expected to be excited, that is what I would pretend to be. When I was expected to be sad, I was not (but it came across as being strong). When I was expected to feel normal (status quo, neither bad or good, just ok), I was truly either sad, or angry but I never let these things show.
There has been a song on my mind and heart lately. "Missing" by Evanesence. The lyrics say "you won't cry for my absence, I know. You forgot me long ago. Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant? Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me? Even though I'm the sacrifice, you won't try for me, not now. Though I'd die to know you love me, I'm all alone." This is how I have felt. So strongly have I felt exactly like this that for the past several months, I have listened to this song back-to-back over 100 times. To such a degree that I even wrote a story which relates to how I've felt: Seth.
All I have ever asked of those around me are a few simple things:
1) Respect me! I will try to respect you, please show me the same courtesy!
2) Love me! You don't have to be there for me all the time, but please show you care!
3) Be polite to me! Some things are rude, like cancelling plans at the last minute, for example, please try to avoid doing these things. If you can avoid stuff that is rude, please put forth some effort!
4) Be honest with me! I would rather you be a little hurtful and honest than lie to me to "protect me". However, I ask that when you are being honest, you also follow 1-3, being respectful, loving, and polite.
5) Seek me. I'm not difficult to find. If I have expressed a desire to hang out with you at all, please come looking for me. Spend time with me if ever you can. I might not be able to do it all the time, but at least try to connect with me.
These are not difficult things to do most of the time, and yet I cannot help but find them missing in my relationships. There has been a place where I have recently been finding an astonishing amount of inconsistency. At my college, there is a group I attend. I am trying to become more integrated with them, and I feel I'm doing a great job! However, in the individual relationships of the smaller group (part of the larger group at the college), there has been a huge problem regarding the lack of #3-5. Some have been rude, some haven't been quite honest, and some have been seemingly avoiding me.
What does this lead to? A life, which I am living, in which meaningless things are now the only reason I care to live at all. I have come to a place where I only find myself staying alive with the idea of "if I were to die now, I would miss out on all the cool video games coming out later this year". Were it not because of meaningless things like that I'd be praying for a swift death!!! Literally praying for one! I've come to thoughts of self-mutilation! The only thing I've been able to do to keep those thoughts at bay is think "It would be very hard to hide the scars that resulted from that, and it might make me less attractive to other people, which is something I don't want, considering I have enough going against me already." These are the thoughts that I've had! WHY!?
I needed to write this tonight. Maybe if someone out there who reads my blog reads this, they'll understand me better. I'm not going to kill myself, I'm not going to harm myself physically. I am, however, breaking down inside. My soul is dying, and I can't stop the decay. I'm feeling less and less like a real person daily. My emotions are now all minimal, if they exist at all. My friendships and relationships are something I don't feel invested in (I wouldn't miss any of my family if I were to move). I'm feeling like there is no reason for me to be alive except that I want to be alive, and for the most trivial reasons.
So, I ask of you all, anyone who is reading this:
please, don't let this happen to anyone else.
I feel I am already a lost cause. I don't think anyone can ever heal the emotional and spiritual wounds I have suffered, and I don't expect anyone to try, either. All I ask is that you would daily try to keep each other in mind. Do not let those you know slip into this oblivion. I cannot describe its darkness, for it feels as if life itself is all nothing but pain.
There is only one good thing which I have received from all the pain I've felt and all the sadness I've endured: as I have lost the ability to feel, I have gained a physical resistance to pain. No pain I feel physically can compare to the pain I have felt emotionally. I wish I had experienced physical pain instead, for unlike the wounds I have suffered... physical wounds heal with time, and scars eventually fade.
I can think of many times in which life has treated me right, but there come times when occasionally, I meet the point where life has decided (for whatever reason) to thrash me up one side and down the other.
As many of my friends know, I'm not on pleasant terms with my step-father. We have had a very rocky relationship for the longest time. Many times he has said "I love you", but few times has he shown it.
Tonight is one of the worst nights I have had in years. Ever since I was 11 years old, I've been lectured on who I should be and why by the people around me. Some of those people I cared about, like my grandmother. Others I cared nothing about them, like my vice-principals.
Tonight, my step-father decided to confront me on some very basic thoughts I have on both my life as a whole as well as my spiritual walk. For about 20 minutes, we were involved in a gradually escalating argument, which ultimately resulted in my mother intervening to bring to a halt. This did not occur, however, until my step-father used the name of my best friend (who had lived with us and recently moved out to be with his fiancee, causing me great sadness knowing he was moving and also great joy knowing he would be happy) as an insult. A slur, calling me by my friend's name to insult me, and simultaneously insulting my best friend and most important relationship.
Everyone has moments when they are hurtful to others. Sometimes it is an intentional thing, sometimes it is not. However much I would like to believe that my step-father didn't mean to be hurtful, I know that he was... at least when he made his last comment (the insult using my friend's name). Many times I have forgiven my step-father for being a man who desires respect, but gives none (or very little). Many more times I have forgiven my step-father for teaching me through his actions and his words that I am not a good person. More times, even, have I forgiven him for actions he took that involved him shirking his responsibilities as a parent. I am a forgiving person, because of the pain I have felt it comes in my nature.
Tonight, however, was a terrible blow. After weeks of feeling isolated, as if I had nobody to talk to, feeling forgotten and alone, the fatal blow is that my step-father sees fit to argue with me, and ultimately make veiled commentary about how I'm a terrible person, and how I shall be going to hell.
So, for those of you who do not know how arguments with my step-father go, let me give you the outline:
1) An issue is brought up. Whichever party does this does not matter, for this is just the start.
2) Now that the issue is at hand, expect my step-father to tell you his unsolicited opinion.
3) You may now provide your opinion, feel free to insert it here.
4) He will now provide you his opinion, and make an argument against yours, and probably include an ad-hominem or straw man fallacy with it. Also, expect at least one non-sequitur argument here.
5) You have many options at this point, respond however you wish.
6) Now that you have responded expect him to ignore any points you make, and make an argument using a logical fallacy that is known as denying the antecedent. Also, expect him to accentuate his argument with another non-sequitur.
7) If you make a rebuttal here, go on to step 8.
8) Now ignoring whatever you just said, or taking it out of context (eg. straw man), you can expect him to suggest that anything you have mentioned based on what he has said was your fault. (Eg. if he said something first, such as "all oranges are red in Canada", and later you tried to mention that according to him all oranges are red in Canada, he will imply that you suggested that, not him.) If you did not comment on anything he just said move on to 10.
9) He is now going to tell you that he doesn't need to provide a logical reason for anything he has been arguing, because he's automatically correct. (He is automatically correct because he's not going to claim responsibility for believing something, but rather pawn responsibility on someone with more authority, such as "God says so.")
10) At this stage, he now will make references to his proof, without having any knowledge of his proofs, and also without presenting any of them. However, he expects you to claim them as true, valid, and legitimate in spite of the lack of evidence to support him.
11) You may now make a counter argument, however he will interrupt you two words into it, and prevent you from saying anything in your defense.
12) He will now repeat everything he has said, and/or make a claim that you have been putting words into his mouth (which, I might add, is true... however, the words you're putting in his mouth are his own)
13) You may now attempt to call him out on his logical fallacies, or continue to make arguments, however know that if you do anything other than agree with him or let him win by ending the argument (you stop talking and walk away), he will continue to contradict you and himself in every way, while still making references to his proofs that he knows nothing about and has not presented.
14) You may repeat steps 2-13 as many times as you would like here, he is more than happy to continue spouting nonsense, telling you what he thinks, and ignoring or attacking you.
15) If someone intervenes, congratulations, you have lost, and he will make sure to get the last word.
16) If nobody intervenes, congratulations, you have not won, return to step 2 unless he gets angry, in which case move on to step 17.
17) He is now angry, expect him to yell as loudly as he can directly at you for as long as possible until you shut up. If you do not shut up, repeat steps 2-13 with 17 as part of each step. If you do shut up, proceed to step 18.
18) You have shut up, he will now insult you, remind you that he is right and that you are wrong, and essentially slap you in the face verbally one more time, adding insult to injury. He gets the last word. If you attempt to respond to his last word, return to step 3.
So, what do I find the most hurtful about his attitudes, and specifically his arguments? There are several things, but they are as follows (but in no particular order): he's family (and therefore should be supportive, but instead is destructive), he's stubborn (he ultimately follows the logical fallacy of Circular reasoning), and he's prideful (thus even if you have proven him wrong in no uncertain terms and have put the proof directly in front of him, he will still assert that he is correct). It comes down to the fact that more often than not, I feel like he doesn't love me, but rather he feels obligated to do anything he does because he doesn't want his wife to divorce him.
How am I to take any of this? Ultimately, I do not know. I cannot talk to him, for he won't listen. I could leave, but to do that requires financial stability that I do not currently have. I could ignore that all this has happened, but that's simply putting off until tomorrow dealing with this situation.
It comes down to this: in the most fragile time in my life that I have had in the last 4 years (and one of the most fragile times I've ever had), my step-father has once again proven that I might as well not exist. The sad part is, on a very deep level, I believe him. I feel little or no connection to the people around me. Everyone I have cared about in the past (aside from my mother, sister, grandfather, and grandmothers) have left me, treated me horribly (starting at some random point, and then continuing on indefinitely), or have stood idly by while my life has fallen to pieces while laughing at me.
I am anguished, saddened, deeply hurt and emotionally scarred. Before, I had little self-worth, but I felt confident that it was all imaginary. I had determined that I could overcome my deficiencies and be worth something. Now, I'm facing a point where I don't want to feel worth, I don't see any worth, and I'm being told that I'm worthless. More and more, I feel like an imposition on those around me, and like a leech rather than a friend.
I have started to wonder why I bother with trying to be nice to people. If good things and bad things happen to both good and bad people, what reason do I have to be good when it requires so much more of me?
I have for the past several months, perhaps even a bit more than a year (as time gets a bit fuzzy to me in this regard), felt stoic. Most of the time, I have had no feelings at all. The few times I have genuinely felt emotions they were negative over 90% of the time. For the sake of others around me, I have pretended as if I felt. When they expected happiness, I pretended I was happy. When they expected me to be surprised, I was surprised. When I was expected to be excited, that is what I would pretend to be. When I was expected to be sad, I was not (but it came across as being strong). When I was expected to feel normal (status quo, neither bad or good, just ok), I was truly either sad, or angry but I never let these things show.
There has been a song on my mind and heart lately. "Missing" by Evanesence. The lyrics say "you won't cry for my absence, I know. You forgot me long ago. Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant? Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me? Even though I'm the sacrifice, you won't try for me, not now. Though I'd die to know you love me, I'm all alone." This is how I have felt. So strongly have I felt exactly like this that for the past several months, I have listened to this song back-to-back over 100 times. To such a degree that I even wrote a story which relates to how I've felt: Seth.
All I have ever asked of those around me are a few simple things:
1) Respect me! I will try to respect you, please show me the same courtesy!
2) Love me! You don't have to be there for me all the time, but please show you care!
3) Be polite to me! Some things are rude, like cancelling plans at the last minute, for example, please try to avoid doing these things. If you can avoid stuff that is rude, please put forth some effort!
4) Be honest with me! I would rather you be a little hurtful and honest than lie to me to "protect me". However, I ask that when you are being honest, you also follow 1-3, being respectful, loving, and polite.
5) Seek me. I'm not difficult to find. If I have expressed a desire to hang out with you at all, please come looking for me. Spend time with me if ever you can. I might not be able to do it all the time, but at least try to connect with me.
These are not difficult things to do most of the time, and yet I cannot help but find them missing in my relationships. There has been a place where I have recently been finding an astonishing amount of inconsistency. At my college, there is a group I attend. I am trying to become more integrated with them, and I feel I'm doing a great job! However, in the individual relationships of the smaller group (part of the larger group at the college), there has been a huge problem regarding the lack of #3-5. Some have been rude, some haven't been quite honest, and some have been seemingly avoiding me.
What does this lead to? A life, which I am living, in which meaningless things are now the only reason I care to live at all. I have come to a place where I only find myself staying alive with the idea of "if I were to die now, I would miss out on all the cool video games coming out later this year". Were it not because of meaningless things like that I'd be praying for a swift death!!! Literally praying for one! I've come to thoughts of self-mutilation! The only thing I've been able to do to keep those thoughts at bay is think "It would be very hard to hide the scars that resulted from that, and it might make me less attractive to other people, which is something I don't want, considering I have enough going against me already." These are the thoughts that I've had! WHY!?
I needed to write this tonight. Maybe if someone out there who reads my blog reads this, they'll understand me better. I'm not going to kill myself, I'm not going to harm myself physically. I am, however, breaking down inside. My soul is dying, and I can't stop the decay. I'm feeling less and less like a real person daily. My emotions are now all minimal, if they exist at all. My friendships and relationships are something I don't feel invested in (I wouldn't miss any of my family if I were to move). I'm feeling like there is no reason for me to be alive except that I want to be alive, and for the most trivial reasons.
So, I ask of you all, anyone who is reading this:
please, don't let this happen to anyone else.
I feel I am already a lost cause. I don't think anyone can ever heal the emotional and spiritual wounds I have suffered, and I don't expect anyone to try, either. All I ask is that you would daily try to keep each other in mind. Do not let those you know slip into this oblivion. I cannot describe its darkness, for it feels as if life itself is all nothing but pain.
There is only one good thing which I have received from all the pain I've felt and all the sadness I've endured: as I have lost the ability to feel, I have gained a physical resistance to pain. No pain I feel physically can compare to the pain I have felt emotionally. I wish I had experienced physical pain instead, for unlike the wounds I have suffered... physical wounds heal with time, and scars eventually fade.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Flight of fire
A rather peaceful time had come upon the land of Minuet. The wars which had ravaged the lands generations ago were long past, and healing was underway. The devastation could have been much worse, but in the midst of the battles, as each side prepared to use their harmonic ankhs, the dragons had descended upon the lands.
Unheard of, nobody knew what to think of these dragons. From the east came Boleron, the great dragon of flame. From the south, the dragon Serenada of the Ice. From the west came Requiem, the dragon of the earth . From the north came Balladine, dragon of winds.
Boleron set ablaze the harmonic ankhs, reducing them to ash, Serenada with her mighty breath froze the wizard flames ravaging the land. Balladine swept away the smoke with a beat of her sky-spanning wings. Requiem caused great domes of earth to surround the wizards whom had been fighting in the war. Having stopped the fighting, the dragons spoke wisdom to the nations and their leaders. Wisdom of ages past.
"Too long we have stayed silent and uninvolved!" Came Belladine, with a roar with the might of a storm.
"Too long has man been consuming all like unquenchable flame!" Came Boleron, with a growl like an inferno ablaze.
"Too long have men's hearts been colder than glaciers toward each other!" Came Serenada, with a whisper like a thousand raindrops.
"Too long has war caused suffering on all the earth!" Came Requiem, with a rumble like a rock-slide.
United, the dragons called out, "We shall tolerate this no longer! Wars have come and gone, and yet still man has not learned! We are as one, our will be that man should learn unity. Should they fail, they may face discord together under us!"
Fearing the dragons, a peace settled over the land, peace which has lasted generations. The elders from that time are dead now, and record remains of the great dragon anthem but it is now only a story. The dragons kept a watchful eye on mankind, but over several years they had withdrawn. Still wary of humanity, they watched from their perches. In the north, Balladine took up residence in the cliffs of Aria. To the east, Bolero watched from the fiery peak of Fugue volcano. In the western valley, Requiem lay deep inside the Nocturne caves. In the south, Serenada resided on Bossa Nova Island.
As all this had passed, it was now legend to the younger generation. No more than fantasy tales spun late at night. Although the stories of the great dragon anthem were now seen as children's stories, war had not visited Minuet. The rulers had taken up the tradition of peaceful trade, all the rulers, except for one.
Spectral, the king of the Clef kingdom in the east, despised the weakness of his progenitors. Feeling it foolish to not take anything he could for himself, Spectral ordered his most skilled wizards to find any lost magics they could locate. The wizards, known as the Fractured, were diverse in their skills and some of the most experienced magic-casters alive. Using magics once thought lost, they discovered the blueprints to a mighty weapon: the harmonic ankh. Under orders from Spectral, the Fractured started constructing one in secret.
A young boy who had no home had made his way up to the volcano. Making several trips down from the cave a week, he would take care of all his needs. Occasionally, he would discover beautiful stones, or even occasionally prisimite or sonorite. When he went to town, he would sell the stones for enough money to buy what he couldn't forage for himself. He had kept a few magical stones for himself. Being on a volcano, he found more than enough fire prismite and fire sonorite to use in practicing magic. Although he had no formal training, he was gradually understanding how magic felt. When he grasped at the concentrated arcana inside the prismite, he could feel the red glow of the fire, and when he touched the arcana inside sonorite, he could hear the flames' crackle. Using this, he was able to learn enough to gain a fair understanding of magic.
The harmonic ankh was completed quickly. In a sudden flash of destruction, Spectral had unleashed the very sparks of war which had caused the dragon anthem years before. Spectral, using the forbidden magic, attacked the northern kingdom of Treble. In days, the peaceful plains and plantations were all but non-existent. The sound of the ankh did more than destroy the farmland of Treble. It also awoke Boleron.
During his daily excursion into the volcanic caves, the young boy heard an unusual sound. He felt the air ring with magical energy, and it felt like death. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, replaced by a new sound. It was the sound of life, the sound of a fire springing to life, and gurgling forth. Curious where this sound was coming from, the boy found a crack which he had not noticed before. Squeezing through it, he followed the sound. When he reached the other side, he saw an amazing sight. Before him was a giant creature, with scales like rubies, and talons of steel. It saw he boy, and came close.
"I sense in you great potential. Tell me, did you hear that loud noise?" The dragon asked the boy.
"It... sounded like death. I was scared, but you sound like life... you're not scary." The boy responded.
"I'm not scary? Even with these fangs, horns, claws? Even with my great size?" The dragon chuckled, like embers bouncing off of stone. His eyes drew close into slits as he looked at the boy. "You should fear fire, boy. It is a dangerous thing! I could toast you right now!"
"But your fire sounds so soft. It sounds like sunshine, and warmth in winter. I want to be close to that, even if only for now." The boy replied. The dragon stared at him for a moment, then he backed away.
"Tell me, boy, do you have a name?" Bolero inquired.
"I don't have one that I know of. I have lived on this volcano for a long time, and I don't have any family."
"Then I shall name you Forge, and ask if you would like to come with me. I have a feeling that I may find your presence useful in the future." Bolero stated.
"I like that name, it sounds warm!" Forge exclaimed, "I'd love to go with you... but what are you doing, and were are we going?"
"We are going to where that sound came from. I recognize it from not too long ago. I know what this must mean, but I doubt that my friends heard it. I did, but only because I was so close, as you were. I see you have the spark of magic in you. I may need you to use it, so I shall teach you the ways of the fire dragon as we travel. Although we dragons normally do not feel the need to rush, I fear that time may not be on our side. Climb upon my back, we shall take to the skies." Bolero called out.
Forge did as Bolero asked, and with a mighty bellow, Bolero took flight, bursting forth from the volcano. In the daylight from high in the sky, Forge saw a plume of smoke rising in the north. Although the sound of it was faint, he thought he could hear crying, screaming, and yelling drifting toward them on the wind. Bolero flew to Spectral's palace.
Bolero reached Spectral's palace, and heard the sound of death once more. A bright light flared out of one of the buildings, and clipped his left wing. The damage done caused him to spiral out of control for a moment, and Forge fell off. Bolero, sensing Forge's plummet toward the rocks below, cast a powerful dragon spell: flight. Forge suddenly floated midair. Surprised, he looked around, and realized that he was being held afloat by magic. Hurriedly, he rushed to Bolero whom was now flying normally again, albeit favoring his right wing more.
"Quickly, get on my back again. The sound of death, the harmonic ankh, is too powerful for me to approach alone. We need to retreat and gather help. If I hadn't gotten hit, I could probably have destroyed it, but the problem we're looking at now is far bigger. Let us go."
Forge, thankful for Bolero's willingness to save him from a fall that would have killed him, felt closer to the dragon than before, and was angry he had gotten hurt. He got on Bolero's back, and they quickly headed north, to meet with the dragon of the winds, Balladine.
As Bolero and Forge flew off to the north, a loud sound came from behind them, approaching quickly. Forge, too curious to just ignore it turned and looked. He saw that they were being chased by another dragon. This one, however, seemed less solid. Looking at the dragon was difficult. It seemed to shift in the air, never keeping its form exactly... and it was not like looking at a real dragon, but rather a shadow of one. Forge nudged Bolero as best as he could to indicate he should look. When Bolero turned and saw the dragon approaching, he seemed immediately angry and on edge. Diving down suddenly, he dropped Forge off on the ground, then quickly took flight again. Forge could do nothing but watch.
For several tense minutes, Bolero and the mysterious dragon of darkness battled midair, talons and teeth shining. The sun glinted off of Bolero's scales, and seemed absorbed by the form of the dark dragon. Finally, after an intense exchange of blows, Bolero shot a white-hot searing blaze from his mouth, incinerating the other dragon.
Exhausted from the battle, Bolero landed next to Forge. He was injured, several scales having been torn away, and although it seemed impossible, given his being a fire dragon, he was scorched where the scales had been ripped away. Taking a moment to rest, Bolero started talking with Forge about what had just happened.
"You're probably wondering what that was, Forge. Am I right?"
"It... it felt like magic, but it wasn't warm like you, it didn't feel like fire. I don't know how you could have gotten burned!"
"You're right, it was magic. You're also correct about how I shouldn't be able to get burned. That was a dragon made from old magics. Ones that we dragons had thought were lost a long time ago. It's natural that when we came together they didn't use it. After all, it takes large amounts of magical power to create a dragon of shadow. Naturally, shadow dragons aren't as powerful as their actual counterparts. No doubt they summoned it because they had struck me with the ankh and thought I would be wounded enough to be vulnerable to it. Because it's made of dark magic, it sears, scorches and burns like no other thing does. I survived because of my thick magical protection provided by my scales. That is why I put you down. Normally, getting touched by one of them will destroy something utterly."
"Wait, so it was... made of darkness? Actual darkness?"
"Yes, and seeing that our enemy is in possession of powerful ancient magics, I am convinced we will need the help of all three of the other dragons. Tonight, we camp while I heal. Tomorrow at first light, we fly to Balladine with haste. I would to go north now, avoiding the shed of more innocent blood, but if I reveal myself now, I might not have the strength to resist another attack. While we wait, allow me to teach you about magic. At the very least, I need to teach you how to defend yourself against dark magic and keep yourself from falling to your death in the event of my incapacitation midair."
"Wait, so you're going to teach me how to fly? Like I did before?" Forge asked, anxiously.
"No, for you, it will not be the same. I am a dragon, my magical capacity is deep. You are a young boy, and you will still need many years before you have the magic to fly yourself as I provided you ability earlier. What I will teach you will be enough to allow you to fall slowly, or at a pace that you desire, but you will fall. Over time, you'll be able to stay airborne longer, and eventually you may have the power to fly freely. That is not for now, however. We start simply, and the most important thing I can teach you right now is how to protect yourself from the dark magic you just witnessed."
Forge looked disappointed, but he accepted that he might not be capable of great feats of magic just yet. For the rest of the day, Boleron taught Forge how to cast a protective shell of light magic around himself. Forge took to the magic fairly well. Boleron was impressed, and seeing Forge's quick advancement, he taught Forge the spell of flight.
Before settling down for the night, Boleron asked Forge what magic he knew from before they had met. Forge showed him a few tricks he had learned using fire sonorite and prismite. Boleron was both impressed and humored.
"You show aptitude for magic, but your technique is so strange. Most wizards do not cast magic in this way. Being able to do it without the use of stones, at that! You might be able to learn a bit of dragonfire magic. Would you care to try?"
"Yes! Yes! But to be fair, although I can cast without stones to aid me, I can't really learn much on my own without them. I have to... know... what the magic feels like or sounds like... before I can really understand how it works."
Boleron chuckled deep inside, producing a sound that seemed like the gentle roar of a hearth. With a sparkle in his eye, Boleron told Forge he saw potential within him beyond most people. He explained that to feel or hear magic of an element, one must only know what the thing feels like or sounds like... at least, for the four elemental magics. Fire was warm, and crackled. Water was cool and soothing, and gurgled. Wind was refreshing, and whistled. Earth was solid, and rumbled. He explained how there were other magics, too. They weren't elemental, so it was more difficult to learn, which is why Boleron was so surprised at Forge's ability to learn the light shield shell.
"Very well, now that I have explained to you some of the basics of magic, let us start with the most simple of dragonfire spells. Follow my directions closely. If you manage to do these steps right, and have the strength to pull the pure warm fire from within yourself and things around you (like me), you will be able to create a dragonfire ball. A dragonfire ball will only harm things with malicious intent." Bolero stated, then he drew a series of drawings on the ground showing the somatic components of the spell.
Forge tried to follow the directions, but he kept forgetting what came next and kept having to look back. The first time he tried, he didn't do it right because he had looked back at the drawings too much. Bolero encouraged him to try again, telling him that the movements would begin to come naturally with practice. Forge continued to practice, and after several minutes, he successfully created a small glowing ball of shimmering fire. It was so small, it seemed only a spark, like a firefly lighting up the evening. And after a few moments, Forge felt a bit tired, and the ball fell from his grasp onto the grass. Forge suddenly panicked, and as he did his concentration lapsed and the fire went out. Bolero laughed, and reminded Forge that dragonfire won't hurt things that aren't malicious.
"Ok, but what if it was used on something evil?" Forge asked. Bolero looked serious, and responded in a grave tone.
"It's not about evil or good! It's about intent. If the caster perceives something as seeking to do harm to them, it will destroy it utterly. I'll give you an example. Look at that tree over there on the ground." Bolero signaled with his tail a log which was rotting in place in the forest. Opening his mouth wide, a sigil appeared in front of it, and then a roaring ball of fire blasted forth hitting the rotting log. After a moment of blinding light, Forge looked at where the log once was. Entirely destroyed, there was no sign it had ever existed. Everything around it was untouched.
"This is the power of dragonfire. I may teach you more, but know this... if you ever use dragonfire for evil, I shall have to seek you out and destroy you, as that is my responsibility for teaching you powerful magics. I must teach you, though, for you are my ally in a war that will shake the world through arcane and mundane alike."
The following day, Forge and Bolero began making their way north. Forge was amazed by the speed of Boleron's healing. Although he was still missing scales, his wing had healed where it had been hit by the ankh, and his other scratches and burns had recovered. As they flew northward, Forge noticed a large number of people riding horses below.
Shortly after the people had seen them, there was a roar, as a spear of black energy arced past them, barely missing Boleron. The men below were wizards working in service to Spectral, and they had started casting dark magic spells at them. Forge thought quickly, and yelled toward Boleron.
"I have an idea, but I need your help! I'm going to jump, you breathe dragonfire at me!" Forge yelled.
"What? Nonsense! I can defeat them alone! Do not unnecessarily endanger yourself!" Boleron roared back, but as he did, Forge had jumped off his back. Angry, and concerned for the fate of Forge, he swooped around and followed the plan reluctantly.
As Forge fell through the air, he put up his light shield. As the dragonfire started flaring behind him, Forge cast a small flare of dragonfire, but it wasn't the sparkling color it had been before. It seemed blue and flowing. He caught the stream of dragonfire that Boleron had spewed toward him in his small ball of light. It was absorbed, and the ball became huge and shifting blue. He turned and flung it toward the men on the ground. It splashed, and when the smoke cleared, they had all been frozen, unable to move but still alive. As Forge continued falling, he stopped casting his armor, and replaced it with the flight spell, and he suddenly slowed to a reasonable pace.
Forge landed on the ground safely, and Boleron landed next to him. His eyes sparkled with amusement and wonder. Being totally frozen, the wizards couldn't move, giving Boleron the idea to see what they could learn. Using his flame breath, Boleron thawed one out. Right away he could tell he was out classed. He surrendered. Boleron asked him several important questions.
"Do you work for the eastern king?"
"Yes, we work for him, but indirectly. We receive our orders from the high wizard of his court. We are the Fractured, and if anything happens to us, there are still others whom will rise up from the Fractured to do the will of the high wizard." The Fractured lackey responded.
"Who is the high wizard of the Fractured?"
"The great wizard: Cacophon. He is the most skilled of us all. Even you dragons would stand no chance against him directly!"
"What is your goal, why are you headed north?"
"We are claiming the territory which we marked as part of Clef yesterday. We're also under orders to stop you from heading north if we see you along the way. Apparently, Cacophon believes you're a threat, but it seems that even you cannot do anything against the might of the harmonic ankh! Oh, and by the way, I must thank you for freeing me."
Suddenly, Boleron realized that answering the questions he had asked was a ploy the enemy was using to distract him from the others being freed. They burst out of the ice, and as a group, they fired their spells at Boleron, whom with a single wing-beat dodged them by jumping high into the air. Sensing the difficulty in hitting him, the wizards redirected their beams of darkness. In unison, they flew toward Forge from all directions. Forge braced himself with his shell of light, but one lone streak pierced him through the chest.
Screaming in agony, Forge fell to the ground. Enraged, Boleron cast a spell at them with the intent to kill. In mere seconds, a dragonfire meteor fell from the heavens, smashing into the Fractured. Hastily rushing to Forge's side, he found himself worried about Forge's life. In horror at Forge's draining life-force, Boleron cried a single tear. When it landed on Forge's wound, Forge was suddenly healed. A few minutes later, Forge awoke, unsure what had happened.
Boleron explained what had happened and also commented on his magical power, to survive a fatal blow long enough for Boleron's tear to heal him. Forge asked if he did well, and Boleron admitted that he didn't expect Forge to come up with such a creative technique as turning dragonfire into a dragonice flare. Showcasing his incredible recovery, Forge attempted to jump onto Boleron's back.
He was surprised when his flight magic instinctually activated, and he didn't simply start climbing, but actually flew up to Boleron's back. Curious at what had happened, Forge asked.
"How... how did I do that? Boleron, have I gotten more powerful so quickly?"
"When I saved your life, I did so by infusing part of my life-force in you. Naturally, with that you'll experience a boost in your magical power. I didn't expect it to be so dramatic." Boleron commented. As they took flight toward the north once again, Forge took a closer look at his chest and saw a strange scar. It was dark black (despite his otherwise tan complexion), and in the shape of a '#'. It didn't hurt, but he was not sure how to feel about it. It was right over his heart, after all.
"Don't we need to get headed to the northern dragon... what's the name? Balladine? Knowing those guys are out in force and with orders to attack you if they see you, we should probably go as quickly as we can." Forge asked, holding on tightly to Boleron.
"Yes, yes we do. And I'm pleased you remembered the name. Balladine of the north winds. My other companions are Serenada of the southern waters and Requiem of the western earth. You should remember their names, in case something happens and we get separated for any reason. After all, we need all four dragons (myself included) to stop the wave of darkness I sense creeping over the land." Boleron sped up, rushing with all haste to the north. The battle ahead would not be easy, but the dragons now had a secret weapon they had never counted upon, Forge.
Unheard of, nobody knew what to think of these dragons. From the east came Boleron, the great dragon of flame. From the south, the dragon Serenada of the Ice. From the west came Requiem, the dragon of the earth . From the north came Balladine, dragon of winds.
Boleron set ablaze the harmonic ankhs, reducing them to ash, Serenada with her mighty breath froze the wizard flames ravaging the land. Balladine swept away the smoke with a beat of her sky-spanning wings. Requiem caused great domes of earth to surround the wizards whom had been fighting in the war. Having stopped the fighting, the dragons spoke wisdom to the nations and their leaders. Wisdom of ages past.
"Too long we have stayed silent and uninvolved!" Came Belladine, with a roar with the might of a storm.
"Too long has man been consuming all like unquenchable flame!" Came Boleron, with a growl like an inferno ablaze.
"Too long have men's hearts been colder than glaciers toward each other!" Came Serenada, with a whisper like a thousand raindrops.
"Too long has war caused suffering on all the earth!" Came Requiem, with a rumble like a rock-slide.
United, the dragons called out, "We shall tolerate this no longer! Wars have come and gone, and yet still man has not learned! We are as one, our will be that man should learn unity. Should they fail, they may face discord together under us!"
Fearing the dragons, a peace settled over the land, peace which has lasted generations. The elders from that time are dead now, and record remains of the great dragon anthem but it is now only a story. The dragons kept a watchful eye on mankind, but over several years they had withdrawn. Still wary of humanity, they watched from their perches. In the north, Balladine took up residence in the cliffs of Aria. To the east, Bolero watched from the fiery peak of Fugue volcano. In the western valley, Requiem lay deep inside the Nocturne caves. In the south, Serenada resided on Bossa Nova Island.
As all this had passed, it was now legend to the younger generation. No more than fantasy tales spun late at night. Although the stories of the great dragon anthem were now seen as children's stories, war had not visited Minuet. The rulers had taken up the tradition of peaceful trade, all the rulers, except for one.
Spectral, the king of the Clef kingdom in the east, despised the weakness of his progenitors. Feeling it foolish to not take anything he could for himself, Spectral ordered his most skilled wizards to find any lost magics they could locate. The wizards, known as the Fractured, were diverse in their skills and some of the most experienced magic-casters alive. Using magics once thought lost, they discovered the blueprints to a mighty weapon: the harmonic ankh. Under orders from Spectral, the Fractured started constructing one in secret.
A young boy who had no home had made his way up to the volcano. Making several trips down from the cave a week, he would take care of all his needs. Occasionally, he would discover beautiful stones, or even occasionally prisimite or sonorite. When he went to town, he would sell the stones for enough money to buy what he couldn't forage for himself. He had kept a few magical stones for himself. Being on a volcano, he found more than enough fire prismite and fire sonorite to use in practicing magic. Although he had no formal training, he was gradually understanding how magic felt. When he grasped at the concentrated arcana inside the prismite, he could feel the red glow of the fire, and when he touched the arcana inside sonorite, he could hear the flames' crackle. Using this, he was able to learn enough to gain a fair understanding of magic.
The harmonic ankh was completed quickly. In a sudden flash of destruction, Spectral had unleashed the very sparks of war which had caused the dragon anthem years before. Spectral, using the forbidden magic, attacked the northern kingdom of Treble. In days, the peaceful plains and plantations were all but non-existent. The sound of the ankh did more than destroy the farmland of Treble. It also awoke Boleron.
During his daily excursion into the volcanic caves, the young boy heard an unusual sound. He felt the air ring with magical energy, and it felt like death. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, replaced by a new sound. It was the sound of life, the sound of a fire springing to life, and gurgling forth. Curious where this sound was coming from, the boy found a crack which he had not noticed before. Squeezing through it, he followed the sound. When he reached the other side, he saw an amazing sight. Before him was a giant creature, with scales like rubies, and talons of steel. It saw he boy, and came close.
"I sense in you great potential. Tell me, did you hear that loud noise?" The dragon asked the boy.
"It... sounded like death. I was scared, but you sound like life... you're not scary." The boy responded.
"I'm not scary? Even with these fangs, horns, claws? Even with my great size?" The dragon chuckled, like embers bouncing off of stone. His eyes drew close into slits as he looked at the boy. "You should fear fire, boy. It is a dangerous thing! I could toast you right now!"
"But your fire sounds so soft. It sounds like sunshine, and warmth in winter. I want to be close to that, even if only for now." The boy replied. The dragon stared at him for a moment, then he backed away.
"Tell me, boy, do you have a name?" Bolero inquired.
"I don't have one that I know of. I have lived on this volcano for a long time, and I don't have any family."
"Then I shall name you Forge, and ask if you would like to come with me. I have a feeling that I may find your presence useful in the future." Bolero stated.
"I like that name, it sounds warm!" Forge exclaimed, "I'd love to go with you... but what are you doing, and were are we going?"
"We are going to where that sound came from. I recognize it from not too long ago. I know what this must mean, but I doubt that my friends heard it. I did, but only because I was so close, as you were. I see you have the spark of magic in you. I may need you to use it, so I shall teach you the ways of the fire dragon as we travel. Although we dragons normally do not feel the need to rush, I fear that time may not be on our side. Climb upon my back, we shall take to the skies." Bolero called out.
Forge did as Bolero asked, and with a mighty bellow, Bolero took flight, bursting forth from the volcano. In the daylight from high in the sky, Forge saw a plume of smoke rising in the north. Although the sound of it was faint, he thought he could hear crying, screaming, and yelling drifting toward them on the wind. Bolero flew to Spectral's palace.
Bolero reached Spectral's palace, and heard the sound of death once more. A bright light flared out of one of the buildings, and clipped his left wing. The damage done caused him to spiral out of control for a moment, and Forge fell off. Bolero, sensing Forge's plummet toward the rocks below, cast a powerful dragon spell: flight. Forge suddenly floated midair. Surprised, he looked around, and realized that he was being held afloat by magic. Hurriedly, he rushed to Bolero whom was now flying normally again, albeit favoring his right wing more.
"Quickly, get on my back again. The sound of death, the harmonic ankh, is too powerful for me to approach alone. We need to retreat and gather help. If I hadn't gotten hit, I could probably have destroyed it, but the problem we're looking at now is far bigger. Let us go."
Forge, thankful for Bolero's willingness to save him from a fall that would have killed him, felt closer to the dragon than before, and was angry he had gotten hurt. He got on Bolero's back, and they quickly headed north, to meet with the dragon of the winds, Balladine.
As Bolero and Forge flew off to the north, a loud sound came from behind them, approaching quickly. Forge, too curious to just ignore it turned and looked. He saw that they were being chased by another dragon. This one, however, seemed less solid. Looking at the dragon was difficult. It seemed to shift in the air, never keeping its form exactly... and it was not like looking at a real dragon, but rather a shadow of one. Forge nudged Bolero as best as he could to indicate he should look. When Bolero turned and saw the dragon approaching, he seemed immediately angry and on edge. Diving down suddenly, he dropped Forge off on the ground, then quickly took flight again. Forge could do nothing but watch.
For several tense minutes, Bolero and the mysterious dragon of darkness battled midair, talons and teeth shining. The sun glinted off of Bolero's scales, and seemed absorbed by the form of the dark dragon. Finally, after an intense exchange of blows, Bolero shot a white-hot searing blaze from his mouth, incinerating the other dragon.
Exhausted from the battle, Bolero landed next to Forge. He was injured, several scales having been torn away, and although it seemed impossible, given his being a fire dragon, he was scorched where the scales had been ripped away. Taking a moment to rest, Bolero started talking with Forge about what had just happened.
"You're probably wondering what that was, Forge. Am I right?"
"It... it felt like magic, but it wasn't warm like you, it didn't feel like fire. I don't know how you could have gotten burned!"
"You're right, it was magic. You're also correct about how I shouldn't be able to get burned. That was a dragon made from old magics. Ones that we dragons had thought were lost a long time ago. It's natural that when we came together they didn't use it. After all, it takes large amounts of magical power to create a dragon of shadow. Naturally, shadow dragons aren't as powerful as their actual counterparts. No doubt they summoned it because they had struck me with the ankh and thought I would be wounded enough to be vulnerable to it. Because it's made of dark magic, it sears, scorches and burns like no other thing does. I survived because of my thick magical protection provided by my scales. That is why I put you down. Normally, getting touched by one of them will destroy something utterly."
"Wait, so it was... made of darkness? Actual darkness?"
"Yes, and seeing that our enemy is in possession of powerful ancient magics, I am convinced we will need the help of all three of the other dragons. Tonight, we camp while I heal. Tomorrow at first light, we fly to Balladine with haste. I would to go north now, avoiding the shed of more innocent blood, but if I reveal myself now, I might not have the strength to resist another attack. While we wait, allow me to teach you about magic. At the very least, I need to teach you how to defend yourself against dark magic and keep yourself from falling to your death in the event of my incapacitation midair."
"Wait, so you're going to teach me how to fly? Like I did before?" Forge asked, anxiously.
"No, for you, it will not be the same. I am a dragon, my magical capacity is deep. You are a young boy, and you will still need many years before you have the magic to fly yourself as I provided you ability earlier. What I will teach you will be enough to allow you to fall slowly, or at a pace that you desire, but you will fall. Over time, you'll be able to stay airborne longer, and eventually you may have the power to fly freely. That is not for now, however. We start simply, and the most important thing I can teach you right now is how to protect yourself from the dark magic you just witnessed."
Forge looked disappointed, but he accepted that he might not be capable of great feats of magic just yet. For the rest of the day, Boleron taught Forge how to cast a protective shell of light magic around himself. Forge took to the magic fairly well. Boleron was impressed, and seeing Forge's quick advancement, he taught Forge the spell of flight.
Before settling down for the night, Boleron asked Forge what magic he knew from before they had met. Forge showed him a few tricks he had learned using fire sonorite and prismite. Boleron was both impressed and humored.
"You show aptitude for magic, but your technique is so strange. Most wizards do not cast magic in this way. Being able to do it without the use of stones, at that! You might be able to learn a bit of dragonfire magic. Would you care to try?"
"Yes! Yes! But to be fair, although I can cast without stones to aid me, I can't really learn much on my own without them. I have to... know... what the magic feels like or sounds like... before I can really understand how it works."
Boleron chuckled deep inside, producing a sound that seemed like the gentle roar of a hearth. With a sparkle in his eye, Boleron told Forge he saw potential within him beyond most people. He explained that to feel or hear magic of an element, one must only know what the thing feels like or sounds like... at least, for the four elemental magics. Fire was warm, and crackled. Water was cool and soothing, and gurgled. Wind was refreshing, and whistled. Earth was solid, and rumbled. He explained how there were other magics, too. They weren't elemental, so it was more difficult to learn, which is why Boleron was so surprised at Forge's ability to learn the light shield shell.
"Very well, now that I have explained to you some of the basics of magic, let us start with the most simple of dragonfire spells. Follow my directions closely. If you manage to do these steps right, and have the strength to pull the pure warm fire from within yourself and things around you (like me), you will be able to create a dragonfire ball. A dragonfire ball will only harm things with malicious intent." Bolero stated, then he drew a series of drawings on the ground showing the somatic components of the spell.
Forge tried to follow the directions, but he kept forgetting what came next and kept having to look back. The first time he tried, he didn't do it right because he had looked back at the drawings too much. Bolero encouraged him to try again, telling him that the movements would begin to come naturally with practice. Forge continued to practice, and after several minutes, he successfully created a small glowing ball of shimmering fire. It was so small, it seemed only a spark, like a firefly lighting up the evening. And after a few moments, Forge felt a bit tired, and the ball fell from his grasp onto the grass. Forge suddenly panicked, and as he did his concentration lapsed and the fire went out. Bolero laughed, and reminded Forge that dragonfire won't hurt things that aren't malicious.
"Ok, but what if it was used on something evil?" Forge asked. Bolero looked serious, and responded in a grave tone.
"It's not about evil or good! It's about intent. If the caster perceives something as seeking to do harm to them, it will destroy it utterly. I'll give you an example. Look at that tree over there on the ground." Bolero signaled with his tail a log which was rotting in place in the forest. Opening his mouth wide, a sigil appeared in front of it, and then a roaring ball of fire blasted forth hitting the rotting log. After a moment of blinding light, Forge looked at where the log once was. Entirely destroyed, there was no sign it had ever existed. Everything around it was untouched.
"This is the power of dragonfire. I may teach you more, but know this... if you ever use dragonfire for evil, I shall have to seek you out and destroy you, as that is my responsibility for teaching you powerful magics. I must teach you, though, for you are my ally in a war that will shake the world through arcane and mundane alike."
The following day, Forge and Bolero began making their way north. Forge was amazed by the speed of Boleron's healing. Although he was still missing scales, his wing had healed where it had been hit by the ankh, and his other scratches and burns had recovered. As they flew northward, Forge noticed a large number of people riding horses below.
Shortly after the people had seen them, there was a roar, as a spear of black energy arced past them, barely missing Boleron. The men below were wizards working in service to Spectral, and they had started casting dark magic spells at them. Forge thought quickly, and yelled toward Boleron.
"I have an idea, but I need your help! I'm going to jump, you breathe dragonfire at me!" Forge yelled.
"What? Nonsense! I can defeat them alone! Do not unnecessarily endanger yourself!" Boleron roared back, but as he did, Forge had jumped off his back. Angry, and concerned for the fate of Forge, he swooped around and followed the plan reluctantly.
As Forge fell through the air, he put up his light shield. As the dragonfire started flaring behind him, Forge cast a small flare of dragonfire, but it wasn't the sparkling color it had been before. It seemed blue and flowing. He caught the stream of dragonfire that Boleron had spewed toward him in his small ball of light. It was absorbed, and the ball became huge and shifting blue. He turned and flung it toward the men on the ground. It splashed, and when the smoke cleared, they had all been frozen, unable to move but still alive. As Forge continued falling, he stopped casting his armor, and replaced it with the flight spell, and he suddenly slowed to a reasonable pace.
Forge landed on the ground safely, and Boleron landed next to him. His eyes sparkled with amusement and wonder. Being totally frozen, the wizards couldn't move, giving Boleron the idea to see what they could learn. Using his flame breath, Boleron thawed one out. Right away he could tell he was out classed. He surrendered. Boleron asked him several important questions.
"Do you work for the eastern king?"
"Yes, we work for him, but indirectly. We receive our orders from the high wizard of his court. We are the Fractured, and if anything happens to us, there are still others whom will rise up from the Fractured to do the will of the high wizard." The Fractured lackey responded.
"Who is the high wizard of the Fractured?"
"The great wizard: Cacophon. He is the most skilled of us all. Even you dragons would stand no chance against him directly!"
"What is your goal, why are you headed north?"
"We are claiming the territory which we marked as part of Clef yesterday. We're also under orders to stop you from heading north if we see you along the way. Apparently, Cacophon believes you're a threat, but it seems that even you cannot do anything against the might of the harmonic ankh! Oh, and by the way, I must thank you for freeing me."
Suddenly, Boleron realized that answering the questions he had asked was a ploy the enemy was using to distract him from the others being freed. They burst out of the ice, and as a group, they fired their spells at Boleron, whom with a single wing-beat dodged them by jumping high into the air. Sensing the difficulty in hitting him, the wizards redirected their beams of darkness. In unison, they flew toward Forge from all directions. Forge braced himself with his shell of light, but one lone streak pierced him through the chest.
Screaming in agony, Forge fell to the ground. Enraged, Boleron cast a spell at them with the intent to kill. In mere seconds, a dragonfire meteor fell from the heavens, smashing into the Fractured. Hastily rushing to Forge's side, he found himself worried about Forge's life. In horror at Forge's draining life-force, Boleron cried a single tear. When it landed on Forge's wound, Forge was suddenly healed. A few minutes later, Forge awoke, unsure what had happened.
Boleron explained what had happened and also commented on his magical power, to survive a fatal blow long enough for Boleron's tear to heal him. Forge asked if he did well, and Boleron admitted that he didn't expect Forge to come up with such a creative technique as turning dragonfire into a dragonice flare. Showcasing his incredible recovery, Forge attempted to jump onto Boleron's back.
He was surprised when his flight magic instinctually activated, and he didn't simply start climbing, but actually flew up to Boleron's back. Curious at what had happened, Forge asked.
"How... how did I do that? Boleron, have I gotten more powerful so quickly?"
"When I saved your life, I did so by infusing part of my life-force in you. Naturally, with that you'll experience a boost in your magical power. I didn't expect it to be so dramatic." Boleron commented. As they took flight toward the north once again, Forge took a closer look at his chest and saw a strange scar. It was dark black (despite his otherwise tan complexion), and in the shape of a '#'. It didn't hurt, but he was not sure how to feel about it. It was right over his heart, after all.
"Don't we need to get headed to the northern dragon... what's the name? Balladine? Knowing those guys are out in force and with orders to attack you if they see you, we should probably go as quickly as we can." Forge asked, holding on tightly to Boleron.
"Yes, yes we do. And I'm pleased you remembered the name. Balladine of the north winds. My other companions are Serenada of the southern waters and Requiem of the western earth. You should remember their names, in case something happens and we get separated for any reason. After all, we need all four dragons (myself included) to stop the wave of darkness I sense creeping over the land." Boleron sped up, rushing with all haste to the north. The battle ahead would not be easy, but the dragons now had a secret weapon they had never counted upon, Forge.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Seth
Seth awoke to the sound of his alarm. Turning it off, he grabbed some clothes, and a towel. He took a shower, and then after drying, got dressed. After walking downstairs, he poured a bowl of cereal, and had breakfast. He slipped into his shoes as he left for work.
At work, he typed in front of the computer screen. Reading his new emails about what his next assignment in the project would be, he prepared a new project space for his programming. After a few hours of working, he was off duty, and he headed to college.
When he arrived, he went to the cafeteria, where his friends normally spent their time between classes. He sat at their table and listened to them talk about things. A few minutes later, he pulled out his lunch which he had packed the previous night. Quietly eating, he continued to listen to his friends talk about a wide range of topics. From the absurd, to the crazy, to funny, and serious, Seth found the flowing conversations his friends had intriguing.
Shortly after his friends had started to depart for class, Seth also had to leave for class. He had been hanging out with his friends for an hour and he didn't want to be late. As Seth walked to class alone, he frowned slightly. It was going to be just another day, after all, he thought.
Arriving in class, he paid close attention to the teacher. There was a test next week. Seth took notes, and highlighted several lines in his textbook. Seth would likely make a "B" on this test, after all, his record in testing was fairly consistent. After class, Seth went to the library and looked up a few materials he needed to reference in a paper due in a few weeks.
When he had finished at the library, Seth sat outside the Student Facilities building. There were lots of people there, and some of them were doing interesting tricks on the pavement. One guy was juggling, another guy was riding on single-wheel mini-skateboards (one for each foot), and there was a group of girls who were playing hacky sack with a rainbow colored Hacky ball.
Seth waited for several hours, hoping one of his friends would hang out with him, but none of them did. Many of his friends passed by, but none of them spent any time with him. Feeling a bit let down, Seth drove back home.
Before he started on his homework, he started dinner. It would cook while he was studying in the dining room. He spread his books out on the table, as well as his notes and reference materials. He studied, and when it was time to check the food, he found that it was ready to eat. Putting his study materials and homework away, he got out his plate, and served his dinner. Seth was a bit tired of eating alone, but the food tasted good, so he ate in silence again.
As he headed to bed, he softly sang a song. It had a tune, but no words. As he sang, he thought about his routine. It was typical. Today had been another regular day. Nothing new or special had happened. Nothing terrible, and nothing especially good either.
Quietly, he set his alarm for the next day, and then went to sleep. Laying in bed, waiting for sleep, tears fell from his eyes. But it was all part of his routine. Tonight would be no different.
The next day, Seth got to experience something different. After arriving at his college, he dropped his wallet getting out of his car and didn't notice. Then he tripped while he was walking to class. He fell down the hill, and landed in a ditch, slightly hidden from view. His head hit a sharp rock, and Seth died an hour later while he was still unconscious.
Several weeks later, someone smelled something horrible coming from the ditch, and when they looked, they found a decaying corpse. There was no form of identification on him at the time, so they tried to match his dental records. They found him. Seth's cause of death was obviously an accident, and even after investigation, it was determined he was a victim of circumstance, not foul play. There was no next-of-kin to call, so he got a typical state cremation. His assets were sold to pay for expenses, and his house was put up for sale.
A month after Seth's accident, Seth's boss sent out an email asking if anyone had seen the program for the project that should have been completed by then. The reply he received was that nobody knew who was supposed to do it. He reassigned the program to one of the other workers, and sent an email to Seth's email account.
"Stx035, because of your failure to turn in the work that we requested of you, your independent service contract has been annulled. Should you wish to turn in the program, you may do so no later than November 8th to receive compensation for work completed."
On the following day, Seth's friends (whom he had sat with daily) at college were talking when one of them suddenly stopped, asking an unusual question. "Hey, guys... does it feel like... something... or someone, is missing? I thought we had more people here normally."
Another one of the people at the table spoke up to address this claim. "Nah, I don't think so. I mean, we would have noticed, right? After all, we're all here every day, give or take a few. Seems like we're all here. You're probably just imagining it."
At the end of the semester, several teachers were disappointed. One professor wrote in her personal journal that there had been a student named Seth whom never showed up for class, but somehow always had his assignments turned in until around October, when he missed the first test. After that, not only did he never show up in class, but he failed to turn in any further work. She guessed that he had probably withdrawn from the class, but had not done so officially, and she was sad that she had to give this otherwise average student making "B"s on most assignments an "F" for the semester.
Nobody living knows about Seth's past. Although in pain and alone, Seth still had lived somehow, but now all that is left of Seth is this story. Nobody remembered him, nobody noticed him, and nobody cared.
At work, he typed in front of the computer screen. Reading his new emails about what his next assignment in the project would be, he prepared a new project space for his programming. After a few hours of working, he was off duty, and he headed to college.
When he arrived, he went to the cafeteria, where his friends normally spent their time between classes. He sat at their table and listened to them talk about things. A few minutes later, he pulled out his lunch which he had packed the previous night. Quietly eating, he continued to listen to his friends talk about a wide range of topics. From the absurd, to the crazy, to funny, and serious, Seth found the flowing conversations his friends had intriguing.
Shortly after his friends had started to depart for class, Seth also had to leave for class. He had been hanging out with his friends for an hour and he didn't want to be late. As Seth walked to class alone, he frowned slightly. It was going to be just another day, after all, he thought.
Arriving in class, he paid close attention to the teacher. There was a test next week. Seth took notes, and highlighted several lines in his textbook. Seth would likely make a "B" on this test, after all, his record in testing was fairly consistent. After class, Seth went to the library and looked up a few materials he needed to reference in a paper due in a few weeks.
When he had finished at the library, Seth sat outside the Student Facilities building. There were lots of people there, and some of them were doing interesting tricks on the pavement. One guy was juggling, another guy was riding on single-wheel mini-skateboards (one for each foot), and there was a group of girls who were playing hacky sack with a rainbow colored Hacky ball.
Seth waited for several hours, hoping one of his friends would hang out with him, but none of them did. Many of his friends passed by, but none of them spent any time with him. Feeling a bit let down, Seth drove back home.
Before he started on his homework, he started dinner. It would cook while he was studying in the dining room. He spread his books out on the table, as well as his notes and reference materials. He studied, and when it was time to check the food, he found that it was ready to eat. Putting his study materials and homework away, he got out his plate, and served his dinner. Seth was a bit tired of eating alone, but the food tasted good, so he ate in silence again.
As he headed to bed, he softly sang a song. It had a tune, but no words. As he sang, he thought about his routine. It was typical. Today had been another regular day. Nothing new or special had happened. Nothing terrible, and nothing especially good either.
Quietly, he set his alarm for the next day, and then went to sleep. Laying in bed, waiting for sleep, tears fell from his eyes. But it was all part of his routine. Tonight would be no different.
The next day, Seth got to experience something different. After arriving at his college, he dropped his wallet getting out of his car and didn't notice. Then he tripped while he was walking to class. He fell down the hill, and landed in a ditch, slightly hidden from view. His head hit a sharp rock, and Seth died an hour later while he was still unconscious.
Several weeks later, someone smelled something horrible coming from the ditch, and when they looked, they found a decaying corpse. There was no form of identification on him at the time, so they tried to match his dental records. They found him. Seth's cause of death was obviously an accident, and even after investigation, it was determined he was a victim of circumstance, not foul play. There was no next-of-kin to call, so he got a typical state cremation. His assets were sold to pay for expenses, and his house was put up for sale.
A month after Seth's accident, Seth's boss sent out an email asking if anyone had seen the program for the project that should have been completed by then. The reply he received was that nobody knew who was supposed to do it. He reassigned the program to one of the other workers, and sent an email to Seth's email account.
"Stx035, because of your failure to turn in the work that we requested of you, your independent service contract has been annulled. Should you wish to turn in the program, you may do so no later than November 8th to receive compensation for work completed."
On the following day, Seth's friends (whom he had sat with daily) at college were talking when one of them suddenly stopped, asking an unusual question. "Hey, guys... does it feel like... something... or someone, is missing? I thought we had more people here normally."
Another one of the people at the table spoke up to address this claim. "Nah, I don't think so. I mean, we would have noticed, right? After all, we're all here every day, give or take a few. Seems like we're all here. You're probably just imagining it."
At the end of the semester, several teachers were disappointed. One professor wrote in her personal journal that there had been a student named Seth whom never showed up for class, but somehow always had his assignments turned in until around October, when he missed the first test. After that, not only did he never show up in class, but he failed to turn in any further work. She guessed that he had probably withdrawn from the class, but had not done so officially, and she was sad that she had to give this otherwise average student making "B"s on most assignments an "F" for the semester.
Nobody living knows about Seth's past. Although in pain and alone, Seth still had lived somehow, but now all that is left of Seth is this story. Nobody remembered him, nobody noticed him, and nobody cared.
Honor
Today, at church, the pastor gave a sermon about honor.
Honesty, fairness, or integrity in one's beliefs and actions; high respect, as for worth, merit, or rank; such respect manifested. This was how honor was defined.
I think about this definition and I wonder why this is so lost these days. I personally think that honesty is more simple, fairness more wholesome, and integrity to beliefs the most rewarding. So, why is it missing?
I think perhaps the problem lies in how people view the world today. How many people think of the world as an unfair, dishonest, anything-goes free-for-all? I would be willing to wager that at least in America, this thought pattern is common.
The question I pose is: if the world is unfair, dishonest, and a free-for-all, does that give us the right to be just as bad, or should we be striving to reach a higher standard? I think that we should make every effort to go above and beyond the way the world looks.
I try my hardest to be laudatory and edifying. In the most basic terms, I try to give compliments and be uplifting, and when it is time to point out changes that could be made, I try to do it only for the sake of helping the other person improve themselves. Everything I do, I attempt to do in kindness and love, for it's the one thing that's missing now more than ever.
Friday evening, I felt called to speak with a new friend. We had only spoken three times, but I wanted to talk to her. What I found was that she was in desperate need of a ride. I could have said I wouldn't do it. It would have been "fair" to me, but not "right". I would have been betraying my values, not holding onto my integrity. Furthermore, her house was on my way home! Why shouldn't I help her!?
Needless to say, I gave her a ride home (hopefully I was a blessing for her). She blessed me too, but I don't know if she realized how blessed I was by this 30 minute ride from college to her house. I hope that perhaps we will become good friends.
Everyone has sadness and pain (of one sort or another) in their lives. The question I see is "Knowing how bad sadness and pain hurts when caused by others, why aren't we doing more to keep from causing pain to those around us?" I know my goal is to not cause pain, avoiding that wherever I can. It might not be possible to avoid it entirely, but I can't use that as an excuse to just stop trying. That's how I see it.
Not everyone feels like I do, though. I can only hope that each person will find a way to be a joy and a blessing to others' lives.
Honesty, fairness, or integrity in one's beliefs and actions; high respect, as for worth, merit, or rank; such respect manifested. This was how honor was defined.
I think about this definition and I wonder why this is so lost these days. I personally think that honesty is more simple, fairness more wholesome, and integrity to beliefs the most rewarding. So, why is it missing?
I think perhaps the problem lies in how people view the world today. How many people think of the world as an unfair, dishonest, anything-goes free-for-all? I would be willing to wager that at least in America, this thought pattern is common.
The question I pose is: if the world is unfair, dishonest, and a free-for-all, does that give us the right to be just as bad, or should we be striving to reach a higher standard? I think that we should make every effort to go above and beyond the way the world looks.
I try my hardest to be laudatory and edifying. In the most basic terms, I try to give compliments and be uplifting, and when it is time to point out changes that could be made, I try to do it only for the sake of helping the other person improve themselves. Everything I do, I attempt to do in kindness and love, for it's the one thing that's missing now more than ever.
Friday evening, I felt called to speak with a new friend. We had only spoken three times, but I wanted to talk to her. What I found was that she was in desperate need of a ride. I could have said I wouldn't do it. It would have been "fair" to me, but not "right". I would have been betraying my values, not holding onto my integrity. Furthermore, her house was on my way home! Why shouldn't I help her!?
Needless to say, I gave her a ride home (hopefully I was a blessing for her). She blessed me too, but I don't know if she realized how blessed I was by this 30 minute ride from college to her house. I hope that perhaps we will become good friends.
Everyone has sadness and pain (of one sort or another) in their lives. The question I see is "Knowing how bad sadness and pain hurts when caused by others, why aren't we doing more to keep from causing pain to those around us?" I know my goal is to not cause pain, avoiding that wherever I can. It might not be possible to avoid it entirely, but I can't use that as an excuse to just stop trying. That's how I see it.
Not everyone feels like I do, though. I can only hope that each person will find a way to be a joy and a blessing to others' lives.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
The City of Recreation, the City of Tears
Feli stood in the middle of the city. Orbs powered by arcane magics were everywhere. The light of the city was so bright that it seemed like daytime, even though the day had already long come to an end. Such was the city of Cerulia. A resort with only the finest amenities.
Feli suddenly felt a tugging on his arm as his little sister started dragging him to one of the numerous restaurants. "Come oooon, Fee-lie! I want to try some of that! It all looks so good! Stop spacing out, will you?"
"What? Oh, yeah, ok sure. Hey, wait... I've never seen food like this before! Is this... a royal feast or something? Lobster, whole roasted pigs, turkeys, and fish, there's just so much food! I bet this place will cost a fortune to eat at! We can't go in there..." Feli started, coming up short when he saw through the window that his sister was already inside. "Man, I'm probably going to regret this."
An hour of fine dining, and Feli and his sister had reached their limits. Even having eaten sparingly of each dish, they still ended up full without having tried everything that was offered. When Feli went to the front of the restaurant and paid, he was surprised. Expecting it to cost two gold Medallions, he was ready for his purse to become significantly lighter. The man working the desk, however, told him it would only cost him three silver Marks.
"I don't regret that at all! Man, who would have thought it would be so good and so cheap! Well, I mean, three Marks isn't cheap in general, but I mean, considering the quality of the food, and the fact we could eat until we couldn't stand... plus, to think we got this meal paid for with the allowance!"
"Brother, are you talking to yourself again? You should really try to stop that. If the king sees you like that, you could possibly be in big trouble. Let's find a place to stay. After all, you only have a couple days before your duties for the king start!" Lorina exclaimed.
"Hey, wait a second, sis. I think you've got this wrong. I was called to tend to his majesty's personal horses, not serve him drink at his table. Still, you're right, I have to find us a place. Let's try somewhere over on the harbor. It's not quite as flashy over there, and perhaps we'll be able to find a slightly less... bright sleeping area." Feli responded.
During the walk toward the docks, Feli and Lorina were repeatedly distracted by trinkets and pleasures. Various delights lined each side of the streets, and all the people that shopped seemed to be enjoying themselves. Looking through windows as they passed, Feli and Lorina also saw buildings filled with colorful attractions, like the games played in taverns only better. Despite the fact he knew it would likely bankrupt him if he went in, Feli couldn't help but think it looked fun.
Reaching the docks, the last ship of the night was finishing the unloading of supplies shipped from the mainland. An enthusiastic man shot off the boat and went up to the edge of the city, the amazement gleaming in his eyes. Feli knew the feeling.
"Wow! I'm so very lucky! Here I am, in the fabulous city of Cerulia! Who would have guessed that Helen's sister had entered me in the lottery for my birthday! Who would have thought I would win, and the grand prize no less! Oh, the lights, they shine like the stars in the sky, numerous and beautiful! It is a shame that Helen could not come. I will have to make the most out of this time here, so I can tell her all about it when I return. I have... five days before I return. What good will it be if I wasted the first night asleep after such a restful boat ride?" The man exclaimed in unbridled enthusiasm.
Ignoring the man who was just beginning to enjoy himself, Feli led his sister over to a quiet seaside hotel. The sign read "Famous for allowing a rare view of the night sky over the sea", which didn't seem special to Feli until he thought about how rare it must be to see the night sky with all the lights of Cerulia. Going inside, Feli purchased a room with a single bed for himself and his sister. As they laid down in bed to get some sleep, Lorina seemed to be thinking about something.
"Hey, brother, that man seemed really excited to be here. Didn't he?"
"Yes, sis, he did. It's not often that anyone except nobles get to come here."
"So, who do you think that 'Helen' person he was talking about was?"
"I would guess it's probably his wife, or girlfriend... or perhaps his darling little sister!" Feli said with a giggle and a nudge, knowing that it was a preposterous notion. If Helen was his sister, he wouldn't have referred to Helen's sister the way he had.
"Yeah, maybe. Say, do you think it's good that we're here, Feli? I mean, it's so big for such a small island. It feels so much huger than our village is."
"Well, I don't know if this is the best place for us, and you're right it is big... but do you like it here, Lorina?"
"Hmm, I guess. Any place is a good place as long as I'm with you, though, brother!"
"Alright, but we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, so let's get some sleep."
While Feli slept, he had nightmares. A war had started, everyone knew about it. A fierce battle that raged on in the south. The battles had been escalating, numerous casualties on each side, and even worse, some sacrifices. In order to win these battles, it was rumored that King Feroas XXII had started sending the Spellbound into battle. The thing about the Spellbound was that they were living weapons. Concentrated arcane energies were bound to their bodies, dressed in fine armor, the Spellbound lost all memory of their pasts, and most of their connections to the present too. Incapable of emotion, showing little or no concern for their welfare. Pain meant nothing to them, and as such, they were nearly impossible to kill. The arcane energies flowing through them kept them alive even beyond what would normally kill a man. And in Feli's dreams, he saw them marching onward toward the southern border, striking down any who came in their way.
One by one, the Spellbound laid claim to thousands of lives. Those who lived to tell the stories of how the Spellbound came against them were often too scarred by what had happened to ever speak again. Feli sat in the silence of his dreams, watching the horrors around him, bodies bursting into flame, pillars of fire or ice appearing from nowhere to engulf enemies. The very earth itself opening up and swallowing legions of soldiers in an instant. Then, suddenly, Feli felt strange... he realized that he was a Spellbound. Feli hadn't been watching the horrors, he had been making them. Screaming at the thought of what he had done, of all those who had died by his hand, Feli woke to find himself in bed. The cool morning air wafted in through the window.
Lorina was awakened by the sound of Feli's screams. With a steady and reassuring hand, Lorina tried to comfort her brother. It had been like this for several weeks. Something was bothering her brother, and Lorina couldn't tell what it was. Regardless, she knew that it had been giving him nightmares so terrible that he had trouble sleeping. Lorina didn't know what it was about, but she was worried about her brother, though she didn't want to let that fear show. All they had was each other, and Lorina felt she needed to be strong for her brother. She owed him that for all the times he had been strong for her since their father died.
As Lorina and Feli spent their day in Cerulia, Feli kept focusing on the activities at hand. It was too risky for him to dwell on his fears and nightmares. Feli felt he needed to show his sister that he was having fun with her. He didn't want to disappoint her. Ever since their dad had died, they had to rely upon each other. Lorina was one of the only people Feli felt he could really trust, the one person he could talk to even when things got bad. Their relationship was strong, and made stronger still, like steel, in the forge of the hardships they had faced together.
In one theatre, Feli and Lorina watched professional actors perform the classic tale "Summer's Winter". Lorina loved the play, based off the story which she knew by heart. It had been Lorina's favorite bedtime story when she was younger. Although she didn't know how to read, she was trying to learn. Feli wasn't sure if she would ever need the skill, beyond the basics, but he encouraged her to keep working hard. He promised her that if she learned how to read, he would get her a present. While at the theatre, Feli found himself just as impressed by the detail and craftsmanship of the props, stage, and theatre itself. They sold bite-sized foods at the entrance, but they had to be eaten during intermissions, not during the plays themselves.
After the play was over, Feli and Lorina noticed that the man they had seen the previous night was part of the audience. Before Feli had a chance to warn her to mind her own business and leave others alone, Lorina had scampered off to speak with the still-energetic man.
"Hi! Did you watch the play?" Lorina asked with a huge grin.
"Oh, hello. Why yes, I did. It was one of my favorite bedtime stories when I was just a boy." The man responded. Feli approached the man, apologizing for his sister, who was starting to describe how it was her favorite bedtime story too.
"I really am sorry, my sister doesn't seem to understand that it is rude to start speaking to others without introductions when they probably have more important things to do anyway." Feli stated.
"Oh, no! I find your sister quite adorable! However, I suppose you're right, introductions are indeed in order. My name is Alexander, and what would yours be, mi'lady?" Alexander stated with a flourish.
"I am honored to meet you, my name is Lorina." Lorina stated with a curtsy. Feli, however, rolled his eyes at the lavish formality that they showed to each other for fun. When Lorina gave him a stare, Feli introduced himself, but not with the same flourish.
"So, how did you manage to get here, being that you don't look like a noble, I would guess you're on some business?" Alexander asked Feli.
"Yeah, I'm charged with maintaining the king's personal horses, and keeping his stables in order. I was chosen for my reputation of being the finest in all of our kingdom at understanding the needs and feelings of horses. The letter I received said he wanted 'only the best', as any king would. So, in a day or so, I'll have to head to the king's summer castle." Feli responded.
"Oh, well, that's nice. Perhaps I'll see you and your sister again before you head off."
"Actually, my sister will be staying in Cerulia proper. At the inn by the docks. Mainly because she doesn't have an invitation to be at the castle. I will still visit her frequently, though. I won't let her be lonely."
"It's ok, I can take care of myself, brother! You always worry so much about me. I'm not some little kid anymore, though." Lorina exclaimed. Feli looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she flashed a brilliant smile in his direction.
"You better be careful who you share that smile with, or someone will totally try to steal your smile and sell it for treasure!"
"It's nice to meet you both, Feli. Lorina, stay safe. I do hope to see you again soon. I'm due back from this vacation soon. My wife will no doubt be missing me terribly, as I do her." Alexander replied, taking one last bow before heading off into the city once again.
Feeling that it was a bit late for them to still be awake, Feli took his sister back to the harbor for a good night's rest. Once again, Feli was struck by how bright everything was in the nighttime because of the lighting of the city. Once they got back to their room, Lorina got ready for bed and then sat on the bed and asked her brother a question.
"Brother... you keep waking up at night sounding really scared of something. Is something bothering you?" Lorina tried to hide her fear for her brother, but it still showed to him. Years of having to rely on each other had taught them how to tell how the other was feeling.
"It's the war. I don't want anything bad to happen to you, sis."
"Liar. Tell me what's really bothering you!"
"I... don't want you to worry about me. Besides! I'll be working for the king very soon! Unless something terrible happens to him, I'll be fine!" Lorina could tell that her brother was attempting to hide how he felt too. She also took no comfort in how he phrased his defense, because with the war, something could happen to the king at any time.
Lorina decided to let him be and go to bed. That night, while Lorina was asleep, a man dressed in dark blue robes came to their room, and quickly escorted Feli to the King's summer home. Feli was sad that he had to leave in the middle of the night, but he decided to visit her when he had a chance.
When Lorina awoke the following day, all she saw was a purse of silver marks and a few gold medallions. The absence of her brother alerted her to the fact that he had gone to the stables either late at night, or even earlier in the morning than she got up. She understood why, though. The horses needed care early in the morning so they would be ready for the king even if he needed to ride out early in the morning.
Feli performed his duties with the horses. As usual, he started by introducing himself to the horses, and showing them he was gentle but firm. Then, after feeding them, he took them each out for a short trot around the outer courtyard to help them limber up. Once they had some time out of the stables, Feli gave them a nice morning breakfast and a gentle brushing.
Once his morning duties were over, Feli visited his sister briefly, apologizing for leaving in the night, but spending lunch with her early so he could get back to the stables to muck out the stalls. His sister seemed to be doing a great job taking care of herself. She had cleaned the room, made the bed, purchased some food at the market, and had prepared a light lunch.
This routine continued for a few days, but later that week, Feli was interrupted in the afternoon by the advisor-mage to the king and one of the castle handservants.
"This is the boy I sensed, get him cleaned up, and bring him to meet with His Majesty, the king." Sorey, the advisor-mage instructed the handservant. Feli was then dragged away to a hot bath, and given fine clothing suitable for presentation to the king.
When Feli was led into the audience chamber, Sorey addressed King Feroas XXII about the boy standing before him.
"Sire, this boy you see before you is the talented one I felt walk upon the isle. He was your stable boy, but I think he could be more useful to you in another role."
"Explain, Sorey, and quickly." Feroas XXII replied.
"Boy, your name is Feli, is it not? You are duty bound by your king to become a mage. You have the talent, and His Majesty has need of your power. You shall receive training. You are allowed to write one letter to your loved ones, and then you shall join us in serving the king."
Feli was stunned, he felt the blood draining out of his face. He had a feeling the mage he would become would not be on the level of Sorey. Nevertheless, what choice did he have in this matter? The king would either use him as he wished, or kill him. So, he wrote to his sister, but delivered the letter himself.
"Brother! I didn't expect to see you again so soon! Oh, no! I don't have any food ready for you!" Lorina exclaimed.
"No, don't worry about any food. I cannot stay. I came to give you this letter. You are not to open it unless you do not see me again in a cycle of moons."
"Brother, what is this letter about?"
"This letter.. is about my love for you, and my hopes for you should something happen to me in service to the king. But do not open it, promise me, until the time is right you will leave it sealed. If I come back and see it open, I will not be pleased."
"I... ok, I promise." Lorina hoped she would not regret the decision, but she wanted to give hope to her brother, whom looked grim. Feli gave Lorina a hug, and went back to the castle.
For four weeks, Feli was given instruction in magic, but he could not cast any spells. The words were there, but he felt no connection to the arcane energies when he said them. During his studies, he recognized one of the people in the room with him. Out of all the people being trained (for many were all taught at once), the person whom he recognized was none other than Alexander.
Alexander and Feli spoke occasionally to each other, but while they were training, they were so busy they had little time. At night, they were given lessons in swordsmanship through magical means. One of the castle mages cast an enchantment on them and the veteran swordsman, and then as the veteran went through the sword forms, their bodies moved to match the motions.
On the last day of training, they were given a tome, and they were instructed to cast the first spell in the book. Everyone thought it was preposterous that they were expected to do this when they had never had success casting spells before. Everyone drew the magical circle for themselves, and were instructed to start the incantation.
The tomes began to float in the air, the codices flipping through pages, and glowing as light flooded from the pages piercing each person with their own arcane energies. Feli felt the energy engulf him, flooding him, his body feeling empowered. He felt a distinct link to the arcane, and then the energy started rushing through his mind, his thoughts so full of information he couldn't make sense of it all. It flowed so fast that his own thoughts got caught in the rush.
Lorina waited patiently for her brother a cycle of moons. On the last day, she waited up for him, but it was late and she fell asleep. In her dreams, she saw her brother, smiling at her and she cried. The next day, she didn't see him either. She waited, and that evening just before sunset, she sat at the dock, holding the letter in her hands. As she opened it, she heard someone approaching from behind her.
There was a sound of soldiers marching, and she saw that among them was her brother. He didn't notice her, however. He was wearing shining armor, and marching with several others, including Alexander. Shoving the note into her purse, she ran to greet her brother, so happy to see him that she didn't care if he was mad at her or not.
When Lorina grabbed her brother's hand, pulling on it, he looked at her and jerked it away, placing his hand on his sword hilt. He turned back and kept walking toward the boat, and with all the other men in armor, boarded. Lorina was sad and angry, but then she realized why she had been given that letter.
Opening it once again, she tried to read it. Feli had kept the words somewhat simple, so she understood most of it.
"Sister, I'm sorry for what I have done. If you are reading this, it means I am gone. You may have already seen me. I must go fight for the king. I'm a spellbound now, and probably don't recognize you anymore. I love you more than anything. I hope that you will become a wonderful woman, strong and caring. I will try my best to remember you no matter what. Some day, I may remember you. Please, stay safe. I miss you already, Feli"
Breaking down, Lorina cried as if she had never cried before.
Feli got on the ship. Turning back for a moment, he thought the girl who had grabbed his hand looked familiar, and somewhere in the swirl of arcane magics and knowledge, he felt like he knew everything about her, but then he also felt the same way about many things, so he ignored it. When the boat reached the mainland, the sun was setting. As Feli and the other Spellsworn (as they were self-titled) disembarked from the ship a woman came running up to the man in front of him (whom also seemed familiar). The woman cried and grabbed at his arm, and the man stopped walking. He turned his head slowly toward her, but his eyes did not see her.
The woman looked deep into his eyes. A moment later still crying, she began speaking to him.
"Spellbound. You're a spellbound now" she stated as the tears in her eyes dried, "and I suppose that means you'll be marching to the front lines soon." Naturally, the man didn't reply. He had no reason to answer to her. He wasn't asked a question, and he didn't know her.
The woman let go of his arm, and the Spellsworn marched again, due south. The sun glinted off their armor as they marched. Feli thought for a moment on how strangely women acted around them. Crying, saying ridiculous things. How could she not realize the proper term was "Spellsworn", not "Spellbound"? Suddenly, upon thinking that word, a flash of emotion came across Feli. It seemed too familiar, and he felt fearful and sick, but a moment later it was gone.
Feli had left his sister that day in the city of tears. They would not meet again.
Feli suddenly felt a tugging on his arm as his little sister started dragging him to one of the numerous restaurants. "Come oooon, Fee-lie! I want to try some of that! It all looks so good! Stop spacing out, will you?"
"What? Oh, yeah, ok sure. Hey, wait... I've never seen food like this before! Is this... a royal feast or something? Lobster, whole roasted pigs, turkeys, and fish, there's just so much food! I bet this place will cost a fortune to eat at! We can't go in there..." Feli started, coming up short when he saw through the window that his sister was already inside. "Man, I'm probably going to regret this."
An hour of fine dining, and Feli and his sister had reached their limits. Even having eaten sparingly of each dish, they still ended up full without having tried everything that was offered. When Feli went to the front of the restaurant and paid, he was surprised. Expecting it to cost two gold Medallions, he was ready for his purse to become significantly lighter. The man working the desk, however, told him it would only cost him three silver Marks.
"I don't regret that at all! Man, who would have thought it would be so good and so cheap! Well, I mean, three Marks isn't cheap in general, but I mean, considering the quality of the food, and the fact we could eat until we couldn't stand... plus, to think we got this meal paid for with the allowance!"
"Brother, are you talking to yourself again? You should really try to stop that. If the king sees you like that, you could possibly be in big trouble. Let's find a place to stay. After all, you only have a couple days before your duties for the king start!" Lorina exclaimed.
"Hey, wait a second, sis. I think you've got this wrong. I was called to tend to his majesty's personal horses, not serve him drink at his table. Still, you're right, I have to find us a place. Let's try somewhere over on the harbor. It's not quite as flashy over there, and perhaps we'll be able to find a slightly less... bright sleeping area." Feli responded.
During the walk toward the docks, Feli and Lorina were repeatedly distracted by trinkets and pleasures. Various delights lined each side of the streets, and all the people that shopped seemed to be enjoying themselves. Looking through windows as they passed, Feli and Lorina also saw buildings filled with colorful attractions, like the games played in taverns only better. Despite the fact he knew it would likely bankrupt him if he went in, Feli couldn't help but think it looked fun.
Reaching the docks, the last ship of the night was finishing the unloading of supplies shipped from the mainland. An enthusiastic man shot off the boat and went up to the edge of the city, the amazement gleaming in his eyes. Feli knew the feeling.
"Wow! I'm so very lucky! Here I am, in the fabulous city of Cerulia! Who would have guessed that Helen's sister had entered me in the lottery for my birthday! Who would have thought I would win, and the grand prize no less! Oh, the lights, they shine like the stars in the sky, numerous and beautiful! It is a shame that Helen could not come. I will have to make the most out of this time here, so I can tell her all about it when I return. I have... five days before I return. What good will it be if I wasted the first night asleep after such a restful boat ride?" The man exclaimed in unbridled enthusiasm.
Ignoring the man who was just beginning to enjoy himself, Feli led his sister over to a quiet seaside hotel. The sign read "Famous for allowing a rare view of the night sky over the sea", which didn't seem special to Feli until he thought about how rare it must be to see the night sky with all the lights of Cerulia. Going inside, Feli purchased a room with a single bed for himself and his sister. As they laid down in bed to get some sleep, Lorina seemed to be thinking about something.
"Hey, brother, that man seemed really excited to be here. Didn't he?"
"Yes, sis, he did. It's not often that anyone except nobles get to come here."
"So, who do you think that 'Helen' person he was talking about was?"
"I would guess it's probably his wife, or girlfriend... or perhaps his darling little sister!" Feli said with a giggle and a nudge, knowing that it was a preposterous notion. If Helen was his sister, he wouldn't have referred to Helen's sister the way he had.
"Yeah, maybe. Say, do you think it's good that we're here, Feli? I mean, it's so big for such a small island. It feels so much huger than our village is."
"Well, I don't know if this is the best place for us, and you're right it is big... but do you like it here, Lorina?"
"Hmm, I guess. Any place is a good place as long as I'm with you, though, brother!"
"Alright, but we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, so let's get some sleep."
While Feli slept, he had nightmares. A war had started, everyone knew about it. A fierce battle that raged on in the south. The battles had been escalating, numerous casualties on each side, and even worse, some sacrifices. In order to win these battles, it was rumored that King Feroas XXII had started sending the Spellbound into battle. The thing about the Spellbound was that they were living weapons. Concentrated arcane energies were bound to their bodies, dressed in fine armor, the Spellbound lost all memory of their pasts, and most of their connections to the present too. Incapable of emotion, showing little or no concern for their welfare. Pain meant nothing to them, and as such, they were nearly impossible to kill. The arcane energies flowing through them kept them alive even beyond what would normally kill a man. And in Feli's dreams, he saw them marching onward toward the southern border, striking down any who came in their way.
One by one, the Spellbound laid claim to thousands of lives. Those who lived to tell the stories of how the Spellbound came against them were often too scarred by what had happened to ever speak again. Feli sat in the silence of his dreams, watching the horrors around him, bodies bursting into flame, pillars of fire or ice appearing from nowhere to engulf enemies. The very earth itself opening up and swallowing legions of soldiers in an instant. Then, suddenly, Feli felt strange... he realized that he was a Spellbound. Feli hadn't been watching the horrors, he had been making them. Screaming at the thought of what he had done, of all those who had died by his hand, Feli woke to find himself in bed. The cool morning air wafted in through the window.
Lorina was awakened by the sound of Feli's screams. With a steady and reassuring hand, Lorina tried to comfort her brother. It had been like this for several weeks. Something was bothering her brother, and Lorina couldn't tell what it was. Regardless, she knew that it had been giving him nightmares so terrible that he had trouble sleeping. Lorina didn't know what it was about, but she was worried about her brother, though she didn't want to let that fear show. All they had was each other, and Lorina felt she needed to be strong for her brother. She owed him that for all the times he had been strong for her since their father died.
As Lorina and Feli spent their day in Cerulia, Feli kept focusing on the activities at hand. It was too risky for him to dwell on his fears and nightmares. Feli felt he needed to show his sister that he was having fun with her. He didn't want to disappoint her. Ever since their dad had died, they had to rely upon each other. Lorina was one of the only people Feli felt he could really trust, the one person he could talk to even when things got bad. Their relationship was strong, and made stronger still, like steel, in the forge of the hardships they had faced together.
In one theatre, Feli and Lorina watched professional actors perform the classic tale "Summer's Winter". Lorina loved the play, based off the story which she knew by heart. It had been Lorina's favorite bedtime story when she was younger. Although she didn't know how to read, she was trying to learn. Feli wasn't sure if she would ever need the skill, beyond the basics, but he encouraged her to keep working hard. He promised her that if she learned how to read, he would get her a present. While at the theatre, Feli found himself just as impressed by the detail and craftsmanship of the props, stage, and theatre itself. They sold bite-sized foods at the entrance, but they had to be eaten during intermissions, not during the plays themselves.
After the play was over, Feli and Lorina noticed that the man they had seen the previous night was part of the audience. Before Feli had a chance to warn her to mind her own business and leave others alone, Lorina had scampered off to speak with the still-energetic man.
"Hi! Did you watch the play?" Lorina asked with a huge grin.
"Oh, hello. Why yes, I did. It was one of my favorite bedtime stories when I was just a boy." The man responded. Feli approached the man, apologizing for his sister, who was starting to describe how it was her favorite bedtime story too.
"I really am sorry, my sister doesn't seem to understand that it is rude to start speaking to others without introductions when they probably have more important things to do anyway." Feli stated.
"Oh, no! I find your sister quite adorable! However, I suppose you're right, introductions are indeed in order. My name is Alexander, and what would yours be, mi'lady?" Alexander stated with a flourish.
"I am honored to meet you, my name is Lorina." Lorina stated with a curtsy. Feli, however, rolled his eyes at the lavish formality that they showed to each other for fun. When Lorina gave him a stare, Feli introduced himself, but not with the same flourish.
"So, how did you manage to get here, being that you don't look like a noble, I would guess you're on some business?" Alexander asked Feli.
"Yeah, I'm charged with maintaining the king's personal horses, and keeping his stables in order. I was chosen for my reputation of being the finest in all of our kingdom at understanding the needs and feelings of horses. The letter I received said he wanted 'only the best', as any king would. So, in a day or so, I'll have to head to the king's summer castle." Feli responded.
"Oh, well, that's nice. Perhaps I'll see you and your sister again before you head off."
"Actually, my sister will be staying in Cerulia proper. At the inn by the docks. Mainly because she doesn't have an invitation to be at the castle. I will still visit her frequently, though. I won't let her be lonely."
"It's ok, I can take care of myself, brother! You always worry so much about me. I'm not some little kid anymore, though." Lorina exclaimed. Feli looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she flashed a brilliant smile in his direction.
"You better be careful who you share that smile with, or someone will totally try to steal your smile and sell it for treasure!"
"It's nice to meet you both, Feli. Lorina, stay safe. I do hope to see you again soon. I'm due back from this vacation soon. My wife will no doubt be missing me terribly, as I do her." Alexander replied, taking one last bow before heading off into the city once again.
Feeling that it was a bit late for them to still be awake, Feli took his sister back to the harbor for a good night's rest. Once again, Feli was struck by how bright everything was in the nighttime because of the lighting of the city. Once they got back to their room, Lorina got ready for bed and then sat on the bed and asked her brother a question.
"Brother... you keep waking up at night sounding really scared of something. Is something bothering you?" Lorina tried to hide her fear for her brother, but it still showed to him. Years of having to rely on each other had taught them how to tell how the other was feeling.
"It's the war. I don't want anything bad to happen to you, sis."
"Liar. Tell me what's really bothering you!"
"I... don't want you to worry about me. Besides! I'll be working for the king very soon! Unless something terrible happens to him, I'll be fine!" Lorina could tell that her brother was attempting to hide how he felt too. She also took no comfort in how he phrased his defense, because with the war, something could happen to the king at any time.
Lorina decided to let him be and go to bed. That night, while Lorina was asleep, a man dressed in dark blue robes came to their room, and quickly escorted Feli to the King's summer home. Feli was sad that he had to leave in the middle of the night, but he decided to visit her when he had a chance.
When Lorina awoke the following day, all she saw was a purse of silver marks and a few gold medallions. The absence of her brother alerted her to the fact that he had gone to the stables either late at night, or even earlier in the morning than she got up. She understood why, though. The horses needed care early in the morning so they would be ready for the king even if he needed to ride out early in the morning.
Feli performed his duties with the horses. As usual, he started by introducing himself to the horses, and showing them he was gentle but firm. Then, after feeding them, he took them each out for a short trot around the outer courtyard to help them limber up. Once they had some time out of the stables, Feli gave them a nice morning breakfast and a gentle brushing.
Once his morning duties were over, Feli visited his sister briefly, apologizing for leaving in the night, but spending lunch with her early so he could get back to the stables to muck out the stalls. His sister seemed to be doing a great job taking care of herself. She had cleaned the room, made the bed, purchased some food at the market, and had prepared a light lunch.
This routine continued for a few days, but later that week, Feli was interrupted in the afternoon by the advisor-mage to the king and one of the castle handservants.
"This is the boy I sensed, get him cleaned up, and bring him to meet with His Majesty, the king." Sorey, the advisor-mage instructed the handservant. Feli was then dragged away to a hot bath, and given fine clothing suitable for presentation to the king.
When Feli was led into the audience chamber, Sorey addressed King Feroas XXII about the boy standing before him.
"Sire, this boy you see before you is the talented one I felt walk upon the isle. He was your stable boy, but I think he could be more useful to you in another role."
"Explain, Sorey, and quickly." Feroas XXII replied.
"Boy, your name is Feli, is it not? You are duty bound by your king to become a mage. You have the talent, and His Majesty has need of your power. You shall receive training. You are allowed to write one letter to your loved ones, and then you shall join us in serving the king."
Feli was stunned, he felt the blood draining out of his face. He had a feeling the mage he would become would not be on the level of Sorey. Nevertheless, what choice did he have in this matter? The king would either use him as he wished, or kill him. So, he wrote to his sister, but delivered the letter himself.
"Brother! I didn't expect to see you again so soon! Oh, no! I don't have any food ready for you!" Lorina exclaimed.
"No, don't worry about any food. I cannot stay. I came to give you this letter. You are not to open it unless you do not see me again in a cycle of moons."
"Brother, what is this letter about?"
"This letter.. is about my love for you, and my hopes for you should something happen to me in service to the king. But do not open it, promise me, until the time is right you will leave it sealed. If I come back and see it open, I will not be pleased."
"I... ok, I promise." Lorina hoped she would not regret the decision, but she wanted to give hope to her brother, whom looked grim. Feli gave Lorina a hug, and went back to the castle.
For four weeks, Feli was given instruction in magic, but he could not cast any spells. The words were there, but he felt no connection to the arcane energies when he said them. During his studies, he recognized one of the people in the room with him. Out of all the people being trained (for many were all taught at once), the person whom he recognized was none other than Alexander.
Alexander and Feli spoke occasionally to each other, but while they were training, they were so busy they had little time. At night, they were given lessons in swordsmanship through magical means. One of the castle mages cast an enchantment on them and the veteran swordsman, and then as the veteran went through the sword forms, their bodies moved to match the motions.
On the last day of training, they were given a tome, and they were instructed to cast the first spell in the book. Everyone thought it was preposterous that they were expected to do this when they had never had success casting spells before. Everyone drew the magical circle for themselves, and were instructed to start the incantation.
The tomes began to float in the air, the codices flipping through pages, and glowing as light flooded from the pages piercing each person with their own arcane energies. Feli felt the energy engulf him, flooding him, his body feeling empowered. He felt a distinct link to the arcane, and then the energy started rushing through his mind, his thoughts so full of information he couldn't make sense of it all. It flowed so fast that his own thoughts got caught in the rush.
Lorina waited patiently for her brother a cycle of moons. On the last day, she waited up for him, but it was late and she fell asleep. In her dreams, she saw her brother, smiling at her and she cried. The next day, she didn't see him either. She waited, and that evening just before sunset, she sat at the dock, holding the letter in her hands. As she opened it, she heard someone approaching from behind her.
There was a sound of soldiers marching, and she saw that among them was her brother. He didn't notice her, however. He was wearing shining armor, and marching with several others, including Alexander. Shoving the note into her purse, she ran to greet her brother, so happy to see him that she didn't care if he was mad at her or not.
When Lorina grabbed her brother's hand, pulling on it, he looked at her and jerked it away, placing his hand on his sword hilt. He turned back and kept walking toward the boat, and with all the other men in armor, boarded. Lorina was sad and angry, but then she realized why she had been given that letter.
Opening it once again, she tried to read it. Feli had kept the words somewhat simple, so she understood most of it.
"Sister, I'm sorry for what I have done. If you are reading this, it means I am gone. You may have already seen me. I must go fight for the king. I'm a spellbound now, and probably don't recognize you anymore. I love you more than anything. I hope that you will become a wonderful woman, strong and caring. I will try my best to remember you no matter what. Some day, I may remember you. Please, stay safe. I miss you already, Feli"
Breaking down, Lorina cried as if she had never cried before.
Feli got on the ship. Turning back for a moment, he thought the girl who had grabbed his hand looked familiar, and somewhere in the swirl of arcane magics and knowledge, he felt like he knew everything about her, but then he also felt the same way about many things, so he ignored it. When the boat reached the mainland, the sun was setting. As Feli and the other Spellsworn (as they were self-titled) disembarked from the ship a woman came running up to the man in front of him (whom also seemed familiar). The woman cried and grabbed at his arm, and the man stopped walking. He turned his head slowly toward her, but his eyes did not see her.
The woman looked deep into his eyes. A moment later still crying, she began speaking to him.
"Spellbound. You're a spellbound now" she stated as the tears in her eyes dried, "and I suppose that means you'll be marching to the front lines soon." Naturally, the man didn't reply. He had no reason to answer to her. He wasn't asked a question, and he didn't know her.
The woman let go of his arm, and the Spellsworn marched again, due south. The sun glinted off their armor as they marched. Feli thought for a moment on how strangely women acted around them. Crying, saying ridiculous things. How could she not realize the proper term was "Spellsworn", not "Spellbound"? Suddenly, upon thinking that word, a flash of emotion came across Feli. It seemed too familiar, and he felt fearful and sick, but a moment later it was gone.
Feli had left his sister that day in the city of tears. They would not meet again.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
The illusion of running
"Thank you. It is a pleasure doing business with you." Jake said, paying the man several thousand dollars extra, before walking out of the dealership and driving off in his car. Although the man was pleased by the generosity of this Mr. Sparrow, he would later come to regret selling the car to him when he lost his job.
Jake Marksport, aka Tipare Sparrow, cruised down the highway at an incredible clip. This is why he needed a sports car, he was pushing it for all it was worth. The speedometer read that he was going 245 MPH. Not bad, not bad at all. Especially considering that the feds were certainly less than an hour behind him.
Today wasn't a bad day for Jake, but it wasn't an easy day either. A police officer started tailing him, so he pulled over. When the officer addressed him, he knew that this guy was going to be easy to take care of the usual way.
"Excuse me, sir, I'm going to need to see a driver's license and proof of registration." The officer said. Calmly, Jake handed him his license, and started talking to him.
"Well, officer, isn't it a wonderful day for a drive? I just got this car and wanted to test its performance. Do you like it? It's pretty nice, right?"
"Yes, sir this is a rather nice car, but do you know how fast you were going?"
"Why of course I do! I was going all of a whopping 65 miles per hour, wasn't I? Ah, such a shame, knowing it could go so much faster. Wait, is that why I got pulled over? Oh, that's it isn't it! It's illegal to have one of the fastest cars in the world and not drive as fast as it can go, am I right? Or, wait, was it something else? Maybe a broken tail-light?"
"Yes sir. It's fine that you were going 65, and really you should do well to keep it at that speed. It was the taillight that got you pulled over Mr. Valquez. You need to make sure you get it replaced as soon as possible."
"But I just replaced it, officer, does that mean we're good to go?" The officer walked around to the back of the car and saw the taillight of the vehicle was working. Walking around to the door again, the officer thanked him for taking care of the light. "Of course, officer. Safety is the most important thing. Could you possibly do me a favor?"
"Sure, what is it you need Mr. Valquez?"
"Well, it's just there is going to be a car coming along this route with a federal license plate soon. It'll probably be driving much faster than the speed limit in the same general direction as I am. I'm concerned about the safety of all parties on the road. Please make sure other drivers are safe, mention to them the speed limit if they don't follow it."
"Now, sir, I would care to remind you that it is my job to pull over people who are suspicious or driving dangerously. If anyone passes me by, I will make sure they know the rules of the road. I don't need you to remind me of my job!"
"Of course, officer. I'm sorry, I know you work hard to protect us all. You're a hero, you put your life at risk every day you leave for work. You even make those judgment calls when people are armed and dangerous. I should never have doubted you. Have a good day!" The police officer waved goodbye, and watched Jake as he drove off at a ludicrous speed.
Getting back in his own patrol car, the Officer Miller was not surprised at all when shortly afterward, the exact vehicle Mr. Valquez had mentioned went speeding past at several hundred miles per hour. Enraged by this act of outright endangerment of citizens, Officer Miller chased them down, pulling them over. When he went to talk to them, they pulled out their badges.
"Listen, Officer Miller" Jason Spectre said while glancing at the police officer's nametag, "I desperately need to keep moving. A suspect in a federal crime is on the move, and the longer you hold us up, the farther ahead of us he gets. We need you to cooperate with us."
Of course, Officer Miller was prepared for this. When he was in training, it was clearly stated the procedures he had to follow in situations like robberies, hold ups and the like. Removing the clasp on his holster, Officer Miller calmly tried to convince the criminals to lower their weapons.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put that down" Miller stated calmly. Jason put down his badge, hoping the officer was listening to reason. Jason's partner, Felicia, reached for the bottle of water she had between their seats
"Alright, so I am guessing we're good to go, now? Will you let me go so I can catch the guy?" Jason asked, unsure if the police officer was really cooperating or not.
Seeing the accomplice trying to pull a gun from between the car seats, Officer Miller snatched the gun out of his holster, with one swift movement turning the safety off, and pointed it at the criminals. He ordered them to put their weapons down. The female crook wasn't responding to demands. When the female failed to listen, Officer Miller had no choice but to fire, but at least he would be a hero, saving millions of innocent civilians. One clean shot, and the woman's left hand was torn through by the red hot sting of a bullet.
The water bottle exploded in her hand, and bloody water spattered all over Felicia. Instinctively, she grabbed her gun from her right side, beside her, and fired at the police officer. She hit his shoulder, but it wasn't the one he was using to hold the gun. He shot back, this time the result was fatal. Jake was disappointed, there was only one option left he could think of.
"Officer Miller, you have a message" Jason said, pressing the button on the side of his car that turned on the stereo. A blaring electronic sound came from the car speakers, and the police officer froze in place. A few moments later, he seemed to come to his senses. "You have been manipulated, and killed a federal agent while aiding in the escape of a federal criminal."
"I don't know, what happened? Why am I standing here? No, no, I didn't shoot. Surely I didn't shoot. This can't be." Officer Miller was going through a mental breakdown. This was one of the well-known side effects of the MSRA, Mind Sweep Restoration Apparatus. He just relived all the moments since he was hypnotized as they actually happened. He was realizing he was a murderer, having no reason to kill anyone today. Miller wasn't the first, and probably not the last if this pace kept up.
Jake arrived at the hotel he planned to stay the night at. Pulling out a real $100 bill, he asked if it would be enough to cover a night. The clerk laughed, saying he should try more, like three of them. Thanking the clerk for the information, he quickly slipped the $100 into a pocket, grabbing three slips of poorly adorned paper. Handing them to the clerk, he asked what his room number would be.
Taking the $300 Mr. Sparrow offered, Marvin handed him the key to room 425. Instructing him on the usual procedures of the hotel, he asked the man if he wanted any services (wake up call, turn down), but the man replied that he would be doing perfectly fine by himself. He seemed very gracious. Before the man could leave, Marvin mentioned to him that there was a minibar located in his hotel room, and that the first two items from within it were at no charge. Then pulling out a counterfeit bill marker, Marvin ran the marker over the notes. When the marker crossed the bill, it changed... the bill seemed to waver a bit, although still on the desk. Suddenly, the bills turned into paper with the number 100 scrawled on the front and back in poor handwriting.
"Excuse me, sir!" Marvin called out, while hitting a button beneath the desk. If the man didn't pay him, he was going to flip the now-active silent alarm switch. The man turned around, and walked calmly back. Thinking to himself about how smug this counterfeit bastard was, acting like he owned the place, he confronted the man about how the bills were obviously fake.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, fake?" Keeping calm, Jake assessed the situation. He glanced at the desk, and saw there was a counterfeit detection marker laying down on it. Obviously this clerk hadn't fully believed that he had such copious amounts of cash with him, or he wouldn't have broken free of the illusion. Honestly, counterfeit detection markers, small details, sometimes these were enough for the average person to disbelieve his otherwise well-crafted deceptions.
"I'm talking about how you gave me three scraps of paper with 100 written on them. If you do not pay, I will have to ask you to return your room key, please." Marvin responded, angry that this man was even looking to deny having given him fake money. However, in the time he had taken to mention this, something else was nagging at the back of Marvin's mind. How, given his lifelong experience with money, how could he have mistaken those slips of paper for the real thing?
"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry! I seem to have accidentally given you some of the scrap paper I had in my pocket! I have a hard time keeping up with what I have stored where in my pockets sometimes. I bet those had my important phone numbers on them, didn't they?" Jake replied. The man at the counter seemed to completely balk at his suggestion, but when he looked at the slips of paper again, a shocked expression flashed across his face before he seemed to turn red from embarrassment.
"My most heartfelt apologies. Here, let me take those from you, I need those numbers. In exchange, here is the payment for my room." Jake handed him three genuine bills this time. They were only three dollars, but being actual money, they wouldn't cause the same problem as the paper fakes had. Taking the three slips of paper back, he watched as the man ran the marker over each bill. When the color didn't change, he assumed they were real. Technically, he was right. They just weren't the same monetary value as he believed they were.
"Umm, sorry about the mix-up. I should have noticed that earlier. I mean, umm, I would hate to think that I might have taken your important numbers." Marvin said, confused. How had he made two huge errors like that. He could have sworn that the original transaction had money, but then suddenly it was just paper. He also would have sworn that the numbers scrawled on the paper had all been 100s, but when he looked a second time, they were various phone numbers in elaborate handwriting. Surely he couldn't be wrong about that too. What was the most odd was that the gentleman, Mr. Sparrow, had a reasonable explanation for all of it. The bills he had handed over were authentic, at least. In the back of his mind, Marvin was still worried though, something just felt wrong.
Jake headed up to his room. Enjoying his first free beverage from the minibar, he turned on the news. A report was on about a little girl who had been abducted earlier in the week. After that, they gave the weather forecast. It looked to be a relatively pleasant week. As Jake prepared to turn off the television and write up a few last-minute provisions, there was a local news report about a police officer who apparently shot a federal officer. Jake recognized the weak-minded fool immediately, it was the same officer whom he had tricked just earlier that day. Jake thought to himself that news travels fast.
"Officer Miller has not yet made any official statement. The chief of police has stated that a formal investigation of the surrounding events has begun. For more details about this and other news, visit our websit..." The newscaster reported. Jake turned off the television. Moving over to the small table in his room, he pulled out a pen and some paper from the drawer on his bedside table, and began to write a quick note.
An hour later, Marvin still had that strange feeling at the back of his mind that something wasn't right. He opened the register again, and took out the $100 bills. Running the marker over them again, he still saw no result. Then, holding the bills up to the light to look at the watermark, they once again seemed strange. However, they were legitimately $100, except for that feeling he had. He took a closer look by holding the bills up to the desk lamp, and saw the bills change from $100 each to a single dollar each. He suddenly held in his hand an amazing $3, leaving him shorted by $297 of what he should have been paid. He hurriedly pressed the button again, re-arming the silent alarm, but this time he flipped the switch too. The police would soon be on their way to arrest the crook.
Driving around, Jason wasn't having any luck trying to locate where the felon had gone. Suddenly, his scanner picked up a dispatch call for the local police. Turning the radio up, he overheard the location, figuring that at the very least he could head there and see if the dispatch had anything to do with the man he was looking for.
"We have a two one one Sam on 601 West Arenas Road..." The dispatcher said, Jason knew that was a hotel. Given that his target had been on the move for over 18 hours, it was likely that he might have stopped for the night. Also, the dispatch code was for a silent alarm, which might be caused if he had tried to pay with mind-tricks instead of actual money. Jason headed to the desert springs hotel.
When Jason arrived, he asked the clerk about the alarm, noting that there didn't seem to be a disturbance in the lobby. The clerk, after seeing Jason's badge, gave him the information he requested. When Jason arrived at room 425, he used the keycard the clerk had given him. Opening the door cautiously, he pulled out his gun. The man was tricky, and Jason didn't want to give him a chance for any funny business.
Jake was still sitting at the table, just out of view of the door when he heard a click from the lock, as someone began to open it. Figuring it was probably his pursuers, he began to read what he had written aloud.
Jason heard a man in the room start speaking, but at first he couldn't make out what was being said. As he jumped around the corner with his gun in his hand, he was startled to see Jake Marksport sitting quietly at a table, reading something aloud.
"Stand up, and turn around, now!" Jason yelled. Jake Marksport continued reading what he had written, and Jason repeated his warning, preparing to fire should Jake fail to comply with his demands again. Jake stopped reading, and stood up. Lifting his hands, he turned around very slowly.
"I never thought you would capture me so easily. I've been on the run for just over 18 hours, and somehow you managed to catch me. I must say, I am more impressed by how efficient our Federal Agents are every hour. You are certainly an exemplary man. May I ask your name?" Jake said calmly.
"You don't need to know my name... get down on the floor, and put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest." Jason started, but Jake interrupted him before he could finish.
"Now, now, no need to be pushy, I'll do what you say, but please just tell me your name first. After all, you already know everything about me. Surely you could at least give me that?" Jake said as he calmly moved into the position on the floor he had been told to take.
"You can call me Spectre. Now..." Jason was going to finish following the procedure, but once again, Jake interrupted.
"I'm sorry to hear about your partner. I heard about it on the news. It's sad to lose someone you work closely with. Hey, at least now you've done what you were assigned to do, right? Surely that honors her memory. Strange, though, how she was killed. I wonder how that happened. I didn't catch the details." Jake said, with the sound of sincerity.
Jason demanded that Jake remain quiet, and he finished reciting his rights. He led Jake out of the building, and took him to the cruiser, placing him in the back. It was unusual to have someone so willing to comply, so Jason asked him why he had come so willingly. Jake's answer was simple.
"You win some, you lose some. I know when I've lost. Honestly, there was no way for me to escape. There was only one door out of that room, and we were on the fourth story, there was no way I was going to get away from you. Besides, I have respect for anyone who can manage to accomplish what you have."
Jason took Jake back to headquarters, thinking about how his partner had died a meaningless death at the hands of a police officer working with his target. Somehow this felon had contacts in the law enforcement. Jason suddenly felt strange. That wasn't right. Jason thought about it. There was almost no chance that Jake Marksport had known that police officer. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't tell what it was. As Jason reached headquarters, he was getting more concerned about the case. Jake Marksport, after doing all that running, had just given up. That didn't seem normal either.
"At least I still got my two free drinks out of that mini-bar before I left." Jake said in an offhand manner. Jason thought about the hotel, they could handle the cost of two drinks. That was nothing compared to several hundred dollars. Thinking back to the room, Jason suddenly realized that he had only seen one bottle on the table. Turning on his console-tv, he tuned it into the news, and saw a report about a man having mistakenly tripped a silent alarm.
"Wait, mistakenly tripped? But that clerk had obviously done the right thing. You were trying to fool him somehow, right?" Then it hit Jason, the hypnosis, the slight of hand, the ways that Jake Marksport had managed to get as far as he had. Turning around in his seat, he checked the back, and saw that Jake was still sitting there, with a smile on his face.
"What's wrong, Jason? You look a little pale! Are you ok?" Jake said, expressing an obviously disdainful concern. Jason asked him a single question, the one question that would help him clear his mind.
"You called me Jason. I never told you my first name. How did you know it?" Jason asked. Jake didn't respond, and Jason knew that he had probably had been tricked. Suddenly, Jason remembered the system. Turning off the console's TV, he turned on the MSRA. A screech melted his vision, and he suddenly relived everything that had just happened.
"Stand up, and turn around, now!" Jason yelled. Jake Marksport continued reading what he had written, and Jason repeated his warning, preparing to fire should Jake fail to comply with his demands again. Jake stopped reading, and stood up.
"I must comply to your demands, or you'll shoot me, so I do. I comply. I must say how very impressed I am. Would you tell me your name?" Jake said, as he turned around.
"You can call me Spectre."
"I see, Mr. Spectre. I'm sorry to hear about your partner. I heard about it on the news. It's sad to lose someone you work closely with. Hey, at least now you've done what you were assigned to do, right? Surely that honors her memory. I don't know the details, but I heard about it. But what would I know, right?" Jake said, moving over to the mini-bar. As he opened it, pulling out his second beverage.
"So, tell me how you figured out where I am. After all, you can clearly see I'm doing exactly what you want. I'm totally helpless, and giving into your demands. You'll probably be taking me away soon, so just a bit more info before we go." Jake demanded.
"Police scanner, silent alarm, it was a hunch, needed to find you. Why aren't you resisting?" Jason replied, the question making plenty of sense to Jake. With a smile on his face, Jake watched Jason walk out the door. Following behind him a short distance, he replied.
"You win some, you lose some. I know when I've lost. Surely, there was no way for me to escape. There was only one door out of that room, and we were on the fourth story, there was no way I was going to get away from you. Besides, I have respect for anyone who can manage to accomplish what you have. Did you know that this hotel gave me two free drinks from the minibar in my room? I think that's a nice touch. They have both been very good. Goodbye, Mr. Spectre." As the doors to the elevator closed, Jason glimpsed the note Jake had put in his pocket.
When he came to his senses, Jason realized that he had been driving back with an empty cruiser. Checking his pocket, he read the note that had been stashed there.
"You shall find that you are hypnotized, normally, I don't use this type of directness, but you're a special case, aren't you? After I have stopped reading this note, you will suddenly find that I am giving you verbal information that will be completely true, and I have no doubt that you shall find it all very useful." The note said, however, there was something scribbled on the back, which Jake had obviously not read when he was in the room with Jason.
"Well, I'll be finding out your name soon, by the time you have read this, you will most likely be quite some distance from me. I wouldn't worry too much about trying to find me. I am, after all, quite an ingenious fellow. I could probably evade pursuit for as long as I need. You may be wonder why I did what you consider a 'felony'. Truth be told, I wanted to challenge myself. Surpassing one's own limits is surely the path to greatness. I'll remember you fondly, whomever you might be. Maybe one day, we'll meet again. Should that happen, I hope you remember fondly all the time we spent together. Sincerely, Jake Marksport"
Jake Marksport, aka Tipare Sparrow, cruised down the highway at an incredible clip. This is why he needed a sports car, he was pushing it for all it was worth. The speedometer read that he was going 245 MPH. Not bad, not bad at all. Especially considering that the feds were certainly less than an hour behind him.
Today wasn't a bad day for Jake, but it wasn't an easy day either. A police officer started tailing him, so he pulled over. When the officer addressed him, he knew that this guy was going to be easy to take care of the usual way.
"Excuse me, sir, I'm going to need to see a driver's license and proof of registration." The officer said. Calmly, Jake handed him his license, and started talking to him.
"Well, officer, isn't it a wonderful day for a drive? I just got this car and wanted to test its performance. Do you like it? It's pretty nice, right?"
"Yes, sir this is a rather nice car, but do you know how fast you were going?"
"Why of course I do! I was going all of a whopping 65 miles per hour, wasn't I? Ah, such a shame, knowing it could go so much faster. Wait, is that why I got pulled over? Oh, that's it isn't it! It's illegal to have one of the fastest cars in the world and not drive as fast as it can go, am I right? Or, wait, was it something else? Maybe a broken tail-light?"
"Yes sir. It's fine that you were going 65, and really you should do well to keep it at that speed. It was the taillight that got you pulled over Mr. Valquez. You need to make sure you get it replaced as soon as possible."
"But I just replaced it, officer, does that mean we're good to go?" The officer walked around to the back of the car and saw the taillight of the vehicle was working. Walking around to the door again, the officer thanked him for taking care of the light. "Of course, officer. Safety is the most important thing. Could you possibly do me a favor?"
"Sure, what is it you need Mr. Valquez?"
"Well, it's just there is going to be a car coming along this route with a federal license plate soon. It'll probably be driving much faster than the speed limit in the same general direction as I am. I'm concerned about the safety of all parties on the road. Please make sure other drivers are safe, mention to them the speed limit if they don't follow it."
"Now, sir, I would care to remind you that it is my job to pull over people who are suspicious or driving dangerously. If anyone passes me by, I will make sure they know the rules of the road. I don't need you to remind me of my job!"
"Of course, officer. I'm sorry, I know you work hard to protect us all. You're a hero, you put your life at risk every day you leave for work. You even make those judgment calls when people are armed and dangerous. I should never have doubted you. Have a good day!" The police officer waved goodbye, and watched Jake as he drove off at a ludicrous speed.
Getting back in his own patrol car, the Officer Miller was not surprised at all when shortly afterward, the exact vehicle Mr. Valquez had mentioned went speeding past at several hundred miles per hour. Enraged by this act of outright endangerment of citizens, Officer Miller chased them down, pulling them over. When he went to talk to them, they pulled out their badges.
"Listen, Officer Miller" Jason Spectre said while glancing at the police officer's nametag, "I desperately need to keep moving. A suspect in a federal crime is on the move, and the longer you hold us up, the farther ahead of us he gets. We need you to cooperate with us."
Of course, Officer Miller was prepared for this. When he was in training, it was clearly stated the procedures he had to follow in situations like robberies, hold ups and the like. Removing the clasp on his holster, Officer Miller calmly tried to convince the criminals to lower their weapons.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put that down" Miller stated calmly. Jason put down his badge, hoping the officer was listening to reason. Jason's partner, Felicia, reached for the bottle of water she had between their seats
"Alright, so I am guessing we're good to go, now? Will you let me go so I can catch the guy?" Jason asked, unsure if the police officer was really cooperating or not.
Seeing the accomplice trying to pull a gun from between the car seats, Officer Miller snatched the gun out of his holster, with one swift movement turning the safety off, and pointed it at the criminals. He ordered them to put their weapons down. The female crook wasn't responding to demands. When the female failed to listen, Officer Miller had no choice but to fire, but at least he would be a hero, saving millions of innocent civilians. One clean shot, and the woman's left hand was torn through by the red hot sting of a bullet.
The water bottle exploded in her hand, and bloody water spattered all over Felicia. Instinctively, she grabbed her gun from her right side, beside her, and fired at the police officer. She hit his shoulder, but it wasn't the one he was using to hold the gun. He shot back, this time the result was fatal. Jake was disappointed, there was only one option left he could think of.
"Officer Miller, you have a message" Jason said, pressing the button on the side of his car that turned on the stereo. A blaring electronic sound came from the car speakers, and the police officer froze in place. A few moments later, he seemed to come to his senses. "You have been manipulated, and killed a federal agent while aiding in the escape of a federal criminal."
"I don't know, what happened? Why am I standing here? No, no, I didn't shoot. Surely I didn't shoot. This can't be." Officer Miller was going through a mental breakdown. This was one of the well-known side effects of the MSRA, Mind Sweep Restoration Apparatus. He just relived all the moments since he was hypnotized as they actually happened. He was realizing he was a murderer, having no reason to kill anyone today. Miller wasn't the first, and probably not the last if this pace kept up.
Jake arrived at the hotel he planned to stay the night at. Pulling out a real $100 bill, he asked if it would be enough to cover a night. The clerk laughed, saying he should try more, like three of them. Thanking the clerk for the information, he quickly slipped the $100 into a pocket, grabbing three slips of poorly adorned paper. Handing them to the clerk, he asked what his room number would be.
Taking the $300 Mr. Sparrow offered, Marvin handed him the key to room 425. Instructing him on the usual procedures of the hotel, he asked the man if he wanted any services (wake up call, turn down), but the man replied that he would be doing perfectly fine by himself. He seemed very gracious. Before the man could leave, Marvin mentioned to him that there was a minibar located in his hotel room, and that the first two items from within it were at no charge. Then pulling out a counterfeit bill marker, Marvin ran the marker over the notes. When the marker crossed the bill, it changed... the bill seemed to waver a bit, although still on the desk. Suddenly, the bills turned into paper with the number 100 scrawled on the front and back in poor handwriting.
"Excuse me, sir!" Marvin called out, while hitting a button beneath the desk. If the man didn't pay him, he was going to flip the now-active silent alarm switch. The man turned around, and walked calmly back. Thinking to himself about how smug this counterfeit bastard was, acting like he owned the place, he confronted the man about how the bills were obviously fake.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, fake?" Keeping calm, Jake assessed the situation. He glanced at the desk, and saw there was a counterfeit detection marker laying down on it. Obviously this clerk hadn't fully believed that he had such copious amounts of cash with him, or he wouldn't have broken free of the illusion. Honestly, counterfeit detection markers, small details, sometimes these were enough for the average person to disbelieve his otherwise well-crafted deceptions.
"I'm talking about how you gave me three scraps of paper with 100 written on them. If you do not pay, I will have to ask you to return your room key, please." Marvin responded, angry that this man was even looking to deny having given him fake money. However, in the time he had taken to mention this, something else was nagging at the back of Marvin's mind. How, given his lifelong experience with money, how could he have mistaken those slips of paper for the real thing?
"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry! I seem to have accidentally given you some of the scrap paper I had in my pocket! I have a hard time keeping up with what I have stored where in my pockets sometimes. I bet those had my important phone numbers on them, didn't they?" Jake replied. The man at the counter seemed to completely balk at his suggestion, but when he looked at the slips of paper again, a shocked expression flashed across his face before he seemed to turn red from embarrassment.
"My most heartfelt apologies. Here, let me take those from you, I need those numbers. In exchange, here is the payment for my room." Jake handed him three genuine bills this time. They were only three dollars, but being actual money, they wouldn't cause the same problem as the paper fakes had. Taking the three slips of paper back, he watched as the man ran the marker over each bill. When the color didn't change, he assumed they were real. Technically, he was right. They just weren't the same monetary value as he believed they were.
"Umm, sorry about the mix-up. I should have noticed that earlier. I mean, umm, I would hate to think that I might have taken your important numbers." Marvin said, confused. How had he made two huge errors like that. He could have sworn that the original transaction had money, but then suddenly it was just paper. He also would have sworn that the numbers scrawled on the paper had all been 100s, but when he looked a second time, they were various phone numbers in elaborate handwriting. Surely he couldn't be wrong about that too. What was the most odd was that the gentleman, Mr. Sparrow, had a reasonable explanation for all of it. The bills he had handed over were authentic, at least. In the back of his mind, Marvin was still worried though, something just felt wrong.
Jake headed up to his room. Enjoying his first free beverage from the minibar, he turned on the news. A report was on about a little girl who had been abducted earlier in the week. After that, they gave the weather forecast. It looked to be a relatively pleasant week. As Jake prepared to turn off the television and write up a few last-minute provisions, there was a local news report about a police officer who apparently shot a federal officer. Jake recognized the weak-minded fool immediately, it was the same officer whom he had tricked just earlier that day. Jake thought to himself that news travels fast.
"Officer Miller has not yet made any official statement. The chief of police has stated that a formal investigation of the surrounding events has begun. For more details about this and other news, visit our websit..." The newscaster reported. Jake turned off the television. Moving over to the small table in his room, he pulled out a pen and some paper from the drawer on his bedside table, and began to write a quick note.
An hour later, Marvin still had that strange feeling at the back of his mind that something wasn't right. He opened the register again, and took out the $100 bills. Running the marker over them again, he still saw no result. Then, holding the bills up to the light to look at the watermark, they once again seemed strange. However, they were legitimately $100, except for that feeling he had. He took a closer look by holding the bills up to the desk lamp, and saw the bills change from $100 each to a single dollar each. He suddenly held in his hand an amazing $3, leaving him shorted by $297 of what he should have been paid. He hurriedly pressed the button again, re-arming the silent alarm, but this time he flipped the switch too. The police would soon be on their way to arrest the crook.
Driving around, Jason wasn't having any luck trying to locate where the felon had gone. Suddenly, his scanner picked up a dispatch call for the local police. Turning the radio up, he overheard the location, figuring that at the very least he could head there and see if the dispatch had anything to do with the man he was looking for.
"We have a two one one Sam on 601 West Arenas Road..." The dispatcher said, Jason knew that was a hotel. Given that his target had been on the move for over 18 hours, it was likely that he might have stopped for the night. Also, the dispatch code was for a silent alarm, which might be caused if he had tried to pay with mind-tricks instead of actual money. Jason headed to the desert springs hotel.
When Jason arrived, he asked the clerk about the alarm, noting that there didn't seem to be a disturbance in the lobby. The clerk, after seeing Jason's badge, gave him the information he requested. When Jason arrived at room 425, he used the keycard the clerk had given him. Opening the door cautiously, he pulled out his gun. The man was tricky, and Jason didn't want to give him a chance for any funny business.
Jake was still sitting at the table, just out of view of the door when he heard a click from the lock, as someone began to open it. Figuring it was probably his pursuers, he began to read what he had written aloud.
Jason heard a man in the room start speaking, but at first he couldn't make out what was being said. As he jumped around the corner with his gun in his hand, he was startled to see Jake Marksport sitting quietly at a table, reading something aloud.
"Stand up, and turn around, now!" Jason yelled. Jake Marksport continued reading what he had written, and Jason repeated his warning, preparing to fire should Jake fail to comply with his demands again. Jake stopped reading, and stood up. Lifting his hands, he turned around very slowly.
"I never thought you would capture me so easily. I've been on the run for just over 18 hours, and somehow you managed to catch me. I must say, I am more impressed by how efficient our Federal Agents are every hour. You are certainly an exemplary man. May I ask your name?" Jake said calmly.
"You don't need to know my name... get down on the floor, and put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest." Jason started, but Jake interrupted him before he could finish.
"Now, now, no need to be pushy, I'll do what you say, but please just tell me your name first. After all, you already know everything about me. Surely you could at least give me that?" Jake said as he calmly moved into the position on the floor he had been told to take.
"You can call me Spectre. Now..." Jason was going to finish following the procedure, but once again, Jake interrupted.
"I'm sorry to hear about your partner. I heard about it on the news. It's sad to lose someone you work closely with. Hey, at least now you've done what you were assigned to do, right? Surely that honors her memory. Strange, though, how she was killed. I wonder how that happened. I didn't catch the details." Jake said, with the sound of sincerity.
Jason demanded that Jake remain quiet, and he finished reciting his rights. He led Jake out of the building, and took him to the cruiser, placing him in the back. It was unusual to have someone so willing to comply, so Jason asked him why he had come so willingly. Jake's answer was simple.
"You win some, you lose some. I know when I've lost. Honestly, there was no way for me to escape. There was only one door out of that room, and we were on the fourth story, there was no way I was going to get away from you. Besides, I have respect for anyone who can manage to accomplish what you have."
Jason took Jake back to headquarters, thinking about how his partner had died a meaningless death at the hands of a police officer working with his target. Somehow this felon had contacts in the law enforcement. Jason suddenly felt strange. That wasn't right. Jason thought about it. There was almost no chance that Jake Marksport had known that police officer. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't tell what it was. As Jason reached headquarters, he was getting more concerned about the case. Jake Marksport, after doing all that running, had just given up. That didn't seem normal either.
"At least I still got my two free drinks out of that mini-bar before I left." Jake said in an offhand manner. Jason thought about the hotel, they could handle the cost of two drinks. That was nothing compared to several hundred dollars. Thinking back to the room, Jason suddenly realized that he had only seen one bottle on the table. Turning on his console-tv, he tuned it into the news, and saw a report about a man having mistakenly tripped a silent alarm.
"Wait, mistakenly tripped? But that clerk had obviously done the right thing. You were trying to fool him somehow, right?" Then it hit Jason, the hypnosis, the slight of hand, the ways that Jake Marksport had managed to get as far as he had. Turning around in his seat, he checked the back, and saw that Jake was still sitting there, with a smile on his face.
"What's wrong, Jason? You look a little pale! Are you ok?" Jake said, expressing an obviously disdainful concern. Jason asked him a single question, the one question that would help him clear his mind.
"You called me Jason. I never told you my first name. How did you know it?" Jason asked. Jake didn't respond, and Jason knew that he had probably had been tricked. Suddenly, Jason remembered the system. Turning off the console's TV, he turned on the MSRA. A screech melted his vision, and he suddenly relived everything that had just happened.
"Stand up, and turn around, now!" Jason yelled. Jake Marksport continued reading what he had written, and Jason repeated his warning, preparing to fire should Jake fail to comply with his demands again. Jake stopped reading, and stood up.
"I must comply to your demands, or you'll shoot me, so I do. I comply. I must say how very impressed I am. Would you tell me your name?" Jake said, as he turned around.
"You can call me Spectre."
"I see, Mr. Spectre. I'm sorry to hear about your partner. I heard about it on the news. It's sad to lose someone you work closely with. Hey, at least now you've done what you were assigned to do, right? Surely that honors her memory. I don't know the details, but I heard about it. But what would I know, right?" Jake said, moving over to the mini-bar. As he opened it, pulling out his second beverage.
"So, tell me how you figured out where I am. After all, you can clearly see I'm doing exactly what you want. I'm totally helpless, and giving into your demands. You'll probably be taking me away soon, so just a bit more info before we go." Jake demanded.
"Police scanner, silent alarm, it was a hunch, needed to find you. Why aren't you resisting?" Jason replied, the question making plenty of sense to Jake. With a smile on his face, Jake watched Jason walk out the door. Following behind him a short distance, he replied.
"You win some, you lose some. I know when I've lost. Surely, there was no way for me to escape. There was only one door out of that room, and we were on the fourth story, there was no way I was going to get away from you. Besides, I have respect for anyone who can manage to accomplish what you have. Did you know that this hotel gave me two free drinks from the minibar in my room? I think that's a nice touch. They have both been very good. Goodbye, Mr. Spectre." As the doors to the elevator closed, Jason glimpsed the note Jake had put in his pocket.
When he came to his senses, Jason realized that he had been driving back with an empty cruiser. Checking his pocket, he read the note that had been stashed there.
"You shall find that you are hypnotized, normally, I don't use this type of directness, but you're a special case, aren't you? After I have stopped reading this note, you will suddenly find that I am giving you verbal information that will be completely true, and I have no doubt that you shall find it all very useful." The note said, however, there was something scribbled on the back, which Jake had obviously not read when he was in the room with Jason.
"Well, I'll be finding out your name soon, by the time you have read this, you will most likely be quite some distance from me. I wouldn't worry too much about trying to find me. I am, after all, quite an ingenious fellow. I could probably evade pursuit for as long as I need. You may be wonder why I did what you consider a 'felony'. Truth be told, I wanted to challenge myself. Surpassing one's own limits is surely the path to greatness. I'll remember you fondly, whomever you might be. Maybe one day, we'll meet again. Should that happen, I hope you remember fondly all the time we spent together. Sincerely, Jake Marksport"
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Finals week
Waking up in a cold sweat, David was not surprised that once again when trying to sleep he had nightmares. The past several weeks, he had been plagued by them. Looking out his window, he thought he saw one of them still grazing about in the front yard. The pesky horses known to cause bad dreams seemed to have migrated into the general area of his bedroom. Most likely they grazed outside his window at night.
Getting up in an attempt to get ready for his tedious day, David was unsure what he would make of his situation. It was the last day of his wizardry exams. He had studied several of the classes' materials in depth, but on other things he just hadn't had time. Of course, the big problems were the papers. Two of his courses required lengthy papers, which had to be written via spell but contain original content. One of them wasn't so bad, the review on the effects of various arcane forces on several spells designed specifically for the purpose of artistic expression and entertainment. He had, naturally, finished that paper, but the other paper he was only halfway finished writing.
Looking over his parchment, he saw several areas where we was sufficiently devoid of content. He had to teleport to his class right away to turn in the finished essay. In several minutes, his spell was completed, and he found himself being pulled along through non-space by arcane forces at an incredible clip. Only wizards and a few sorcerers could travel by teleportation though, in truth many people had purchased trinkets from a number of high-class wizards that allowed them to teleport at will. Technically speaking, it only seemed like teleportation to the observer, but the actual art of teleportation spells were difficult to manage. They threw the teleporting person out on the other side with terrible accuracy. If the person doing an actual teleportation spell wasn't careful, they could find themselves in some very undesirable places, but that was not important for David to think upon.
The other paper was important, so while he was being rushed onward by the arcane, he brooded upon his other paper. This paper, which accounted for a huge portion of his final grade for that class, was supposed to be a list of somatic components, spell components (with price), verbal components, and description of effect for a new spell. That's right, the final for the class was to essentially design a new spell which could be castable (even if it wasn't possible with the current known elements). He didn't have to prove that it could be cast, and the ingredients could be as exotic or common as he chose. The somatic and verbal components could be as lengthy or as short as necessary too. The point was that there should be a desirable effect, and in magical theory it should work. Undoubtedly this was the most complex assignment he had ever faced, with the exception of the curses class he took the previous semester.
Thinking back on the curses class made him sick. He had passed it, somehow. He wasn't really sure what it was that had led to his passing the class, considering how poorly he performed in class. His curses class had been a headache. It had also been boils, warts, loss of hair, accelerated tooth decay, blindness, and at one point a coma. Seriously, he was almost positive that he was going to fail the class. The teacher had thought that the best way to learn how to cast the curse was to see them while being cast, and to experience the effects firsthand. Every student in the class had been horribly violated by the witch who was teaching. The first week seemed fine, but that was only the intro to the class, where she spoke about the theory behind curses. David supposed that if the entire class had been like that, he would have handled it just fine. Instead, the very next week she cast blindness and deafness on the class, with a verbal component on blindness and a somatic component on deafness that each made them expire by the next class period. The horror of it all was enough to start mumbling amongst the students. Then came the hair loss, then boils, then warts... these led to several students dropping out of the class, in hopes that when they took it the following semester, they could sign up for the class with the other professor (which supposedly was a delightful time). When the class content began to favor tooth decay and coma, one student was so horrified that he left the class immediately, and never returned. Word of the horrors of this class eventually reached the ears of the dean, and he instructed the professor that she needed to avoid casting such serious curses on the students for the sake of their learning. She ended up not teaching the paralysis curse and the torture curse on the students, but she still required that they all knew how to perform them.
Ultimately, the students that survived the course came away scarred, but with good grades. The students supposed that she might have been forced to change her grades, or lose her job. Regardless of why she gave passing grades, the students didn't complain. Better to pass alive, than have to take the class again.
Getting up in an attempt to get ready for his tedious day, David was unsure what he would make of his situation. It was the last day of his wizardry exams. He had studied several of the classes' materials in depth, but on other things he just hadn't had time. Of course, the big problems were the papers. Two of his courses required lengthy papers, which had to be written via spell but contain original content. One of them wasn't so bad, the review on the effects of various arcane forces on several spells designed specifically for the purpose of artistic expression and entertainment. He had, naturally, finished that paper, but the other paper he was only halfway finished writing.
Looking over his parchment, he saw several areas where we was sufficiently devoid of content. He had to teleport to his class right away to turn in the finished essay. In several minutes, his spell was completed, and he found himself being pulled along through non-space by arcane forces at an incredible clip. Only wizards and a few sorcerers could travel by teleportation though, in truth many people had purchased trinkets from a number of high-class wizards that allowed them to teleport at will. Technically speaking, it only seemed like teleportation to the observer, but the actual art of teleportation spells were difficult to manage. They threw the teleporting person out on the other side with terrible accuracy. If the person doing an actual teleportation spell wasn't careful, they could find themselves in some very undesirable places, but that was not important for David to think upon.
The other paper was important, so while he was being rushed onward by the arcane, he brooded upon his other paper. This paper, which accounted for a huge portion of his final grade for that class, was supposed to be a list of somatic components, spell components (with price), verbal components, and description of effect for a new spell. That's right, the final for the class was to essentially design a new spell which could be castable (even if it wasn't possible with the current known elements). He didn't have to prove that it could be cast, and the ingredients could be as exotic or common as he chose. The somatic and verbal components could be as lengthy or as short as necessary too. The point was that there should be a desirable effect, and in magical theory it should work. Undoubtedly this was the most complex assignment he had ever faced, with the exception of the curses class he took the previous semester.
Thinking back on the curses class made him sick. He had passed it, somehow. He wasn't really sure what it was that had led to his passing the class, considering how poorly he performed in class. His curses class had been a headache. It had also been boils, warts, loss of hair, accelerated tooth decay, blindness, and at one point a coma. Seriously, he was almost positive that he was going to fail the class. The teacher had thought that the best way to learn how to cast the curse was to see them while being cast, and to experience the effects firsthand. Every student in the class had been horribly violated by the witch who was teaching. The first week seemed fine, but that was only the intro to the class, where she spoke about the theory behind curses. David supposed that if the entire class had been like that, he would have handled it just fine. Instead, the very next week she cast blindness and deafness on the class, with a verbal component on blindness and a somatic component on deafness that each made them expire by the next class period. The horror of it all was enough to start mumbling amongst the students. Then came the hair loss, then boils, then warts... these led to several students dropping out of the class, in hopes that when they took it the following semester, they could sign up for the class with the other professor (which supposedly was a delightful time). When the class content began to favor tooth decay and coma, one student was so horrified that he left the class immediately, and never returned. Word of the horrors of this class eventually reached the ears of the dean, and he instructed the professor that she needed to avoid casting such serious curses on the students for the sake of their learning. She ended up not teaching the paralysis curse and the torture curse on the students, but she still required that they all knew how to perform them.
Ultimately, the students that survived the course came away scarred, but with good grades. The students supposed that she might have been forced to change her grades, or lose her job. Regardless of why she gave passing grades, the students didn't complain. Better to pass alive, than have to take the class again.
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