《Battle of Lexis》


 0th - The word that changed everything

    -Prologue-


    Dontel ran throughthe isolated jungle that is the back alleyways. Adrenaline pumped throughout his body as his legs moved as fast as they could. He wasn''t jogging like his usual morning excisices. He was escaping; from thehorror he witnessed; from the monstrosity that is the unknown which he cannot understand. However, the only thing on his mind then was only one thing - run away.


    The end of the allyway soon appeared in front of Dontel. Atwo metres tall steel wire fence was the only thing blocking him and the path to the busy streets of the city. Pedestrians, too faraway to perceive his presence only walked on as bystanders. Dontel couldn''t blame them. They don''t know thesecrets of Lexis, the old city of the wordsmith.


    Leaping onto the fence, Dontel climbed. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, but struggling with his failing body, he compensated with his will.


    "Whoa!" Dontel unintentionally cried out as he fell over to the other side of the fence. He scraped his knees, but his eyes focused back at the dark alley behind him. Only silence followed.


    Comfirming the absence of a chaser, Dontel sighed. He was out of whatever situation he was in.


    Using the fence as a support, he slowly got back up and walked towards the street. He looked at the clothes of the passerbys and then looked at himself - a dirted cyanjacket with ashened pants that was light grey yesterday; it seemed no better than a thug''s dressing washed inash and mud. Yet despite the looks, he was content. To him, all that matter was that he''s escaped death.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The next moment, however, turned everything back to grim.


    "Rejection," the meantion of the word shocked Dontel. He heard it once before, from a woman he saw a few moments ago.


    "Don''t look so shocked," the voice came from the right of Dontel, where it was once a building of brick and mortar, now a large, half-abandonded construction field of debris; as well as the figure of three people.


    Two men and a woman, the same people Dontel was trying to escape from. The woman figured beautifully likean angel. She was dressed in black matching her hair and dark crimson eyes. The men wore clothes each to their own; one in a common grey suit, faced no different from a normal salaryman; the other in a rough-looking vest and ripped shorts, the definition of a street gangster.


    Dontel scanned the three, unable to look away in case they do something, or say something.


    "Hoho, what do we have here? Scared?" the woman teased. Dontel was frozen on the spot. She was right. Dontel locked eyes with her as she continued, "you should be scared, because you interrupted our little showdown."


    The other two men only looked on as Dontel confronted the woman, annoyance within their gaze.


    "C''mon! I''ven'' got time for this," the gangster rushed, "any lon''er an'' my head be off by my boss."


    "I''ve also got a meeting tomorrow morning. Preferrably, I''d like some sleep before that," the salaryman added-on.


    "Fine," the woman answered half-heartedly, "I only wanted to enjoy toyingwith him for a little longer."She walked towards Dontel and once again spoke the word, "rejection."


    The world blurred before Dontel. His vision quickly deteriated but he instinctively knew, he''s the one disappearing from the world, not the world from him. Glimps of the trio still lingered in his mind along with the question: "why?"


    "Why did we met?"


    "Why did they kill me?"


    "Why do I have to die?"


    So many questions danced by his thoughts, as the melody of silence broken by his fall marked the end of the night and the start of a new day.


    Midnight passed as a miricle happened.


    Dontel heard a single word as the rise of a new participant of the gamewas felt by everypersonalein the city.


    "Inclusion"


    -Prologue end-

 1st - Inclusion

    "How are you feeling?"


    Dontel raised from the concrete floor, his vision stilll slightly blurred. He stumbled a couple times before he was able to completely get up. The group of three were gone where he last had seen them. Instead, it was replaced by two motionless strangers staring at him. He could tell, somehow, that the duo was similar to the previous three, yet their gaze are completely different. They were gentle, yet dark.


    "I''m... I think I''m fine," Dontel answered. He inspected the two as he did to the three; a man and a girl. The man stood tall, covered ina cozy trench coat withblack pants and shoes. The girl pulled a smile at Dontel as she then straightened her white school uniform and red skirt with black and white stripes.


    "Before you ask us of anything," the man interrupted Dontel''s inspections, a frown forming on his face, "I''ll have to apologise. I''m sorry."


    "Wha- Why are you apologising?" Dontel was as confused as ever to the man''s words.


    "Because," the man paused, "the process of saving your life requires myself to intentionally cause you to become a cabulator."


    The man''s sentence was filled with keys points of interest; ''process'', ''intentions'', ''cabulators''. Many question were raised within Dontel''s head, butout of all of them, he only chose one to ask.


    "Is everything going to change?"


    The man eyes widened, clearly surprised by what Dontel asked, while the girl did the opposite as she closed her eyes.


    "Yes," this time it was the girl that answered, "everything in your life is going to change."


    Dontel knew what they were conveying. He became a monster, the same as the group from before and now in front.


    "But if you want to follow us, we can help you survive," the girl ended.


    Dontel looked at her again, a sense of conviction entered his mind. ''Is it worth it to risk his own life in the guidence of those two?''


    Something within tells him the answer.


    "I''ll go withyou."


    "Good boy," the girl turned around and walked away before looking back again, "what are you doing? Aren''t you going to follow along?"If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Hurrying forward, Dontel walked behind the two without hesitation.


    This was thefirst meeting between the ''mute'', the ''princess'' and the ''fated'', which happened two weeks before the beginning of thethirdcabulator massacure.


    <hr>


    "This is my castle!" the girl who introduced herself as Mein exclaimed as she entered herapartment room. The two men following after her only looked at each other with one nodding in confirmation, tiredly.


    "So," Mein asked as she turned to them both, "what should we call our palagon?"


    Dontel raised his right eyebrow in plain confusion as he each again looked at Ghet, the man in trench coat, only to bemirroredwith a shrug and frown.


    "Let me explain proporly since both of you don''t know what a palagon is," Mein entered,"palagons are simply a group of cabulators, like gangs and companies, or even a guild in MMORPGsI guess."


    "What does being in a palagon actually mean?" Ghet asked, followed by Dontel''s question, "can anyone be in any palagon?"


    "Being in a palagon means that we cannot harm each other. It''s mainly a way so that we can''t accidently kill one another, which is really helpful if we meet other cabulators and fight. As for your question, erm..."


    "Dontel Grallen," he informed.


    "Dontel then. No, only the head cabulator can increase the number of members. I''m not sure why that is since it''s set by the wordsmith himself."


    "The wordsmith?" Dontel jolted, "you mean, the legend was true after all!?"


    "Yes, why else would people with supernatural powers that can change reality by the whisper of a single word exist?" Mein threw the last punch as Dontel thought for a while. He rememebered the research he had done on the history of the wordsmith, the founder of the city centuries ago. Severalwords on the past report of the city striked out; ''witches'', ''magic'', ''gods''. Then he remembered the battle between the woman and the two men - a hellscape carved in destruction.


    "Well Dontel," Meinstopped his train of thought, "now thatGhet has''included'' you into our world of Lexis, we should probably teachyou as many things as possible or else you''ll get killed really quickly."


    "Lexis?" Dontel caught the word from the sentence, "isn''t that the city''s name?"


    "Yes, and it is also the name for the battlefield of the cabulators."


    Dontel reflected on Mein''s words. From what he had gathered, he had deductedunderstood most of the situation at hand.


    "So let me get this right: Lexis city, founded by the legendary wordsmith, is the heart of the battleground for the cabulators, people with powers that can change reality when thye say a specific word, like how you, Ghet, ''included'' me in this battlefield; that of which it will presumeably cause other cabulators to attack me as well?"


    "Wow, I''m impressed," Mein confirmed, "however, you still got some of it wrong. Most notably, cabulators."


    "What? What do you mean?"


    Mein looked at Ghet, who also looked back, as if conversing in silence.


    "Well," a sigh left Ghet''s mouth, "you see..."


    "Cabulators are not people, they are the personificationof the words each cabulator wield themselves."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Take my word, ''inclusion''. I am created with the thought of ''including'' and ''being included'' in mind, which gave me this sort of personality and mindset."


    "The same can be applied to me," Mein joined, "however, you are different. You are not a cabulator."


    "Then what am I in this, thebattlefieldof Lexis?"


    "You, my friend," she stopped for dramatical purposes, "are the second human being under the rules of the Lexis."

 2nd - Aviation

    ¡°Hey, have you ever hear of the story of boy with the wax wings, Icarus?¡±


    Two shadows were casted over the maintenance platforms on the Lexis tower, the central landmark for tourists to see the city at the highest point possible. Although the moon was brighter than usual, no one seemed to notice the two conspicuous boys sitting dangerously outside of the tower. Their attention was supernaturally ¡®reflected¡¯ towards the rest of the city, which to most was already the most eye-catching scene.


    The boys sitting with their swinging legs hanging off the edge enjoyed the view just like every night they have done so. Their conversation switching randomly from nonsensical topics to more nostalgic memories as they admire the scene. At least, that¡¯s what usually happens.


    Tonight was different, Blake could feel it. His friend was quiet, if not almost completely silent unlike the usual talkative buddy he hang out with at night. If not for that single sentence from him, Blake thought they were going to be silent the whole night.


    ¡±You know what, I don¡¯t think I have,¡± Blake thought for a while before replying honestly. He had heard of the name, but never the actual story. Thinking of breaking the ice, he decided to continue the conversation.


    ¡±Icarus, the boy who yearns for the skies was given a pair of wax wings by his father Daedalus, only to fly too close to the sun, melting the wings and fall to his death.¡±


    Blake was shocked by the sudden ending in the story. The usual nonsensical tone in his friend¡¯s voice was practicallynon-existence!


    ¡±Why did you ask me about such a sad story?¡± Blake was confused; this isn¡¯t like his friend at all!


    Yet, his friend didn¡¯t immediately say anything, only staring out at the city of the night that¡¯s as bright as the day. Various thoughts flowed through his mind, but none were something he wished to share, nor could.


    ¡±...It might be time,¡± the other boy turned his head to Blake. A sense of sorrow could be felt in his eyes.


    Blake wanted to ask what might be the time, but the fear within him stopped him. He doesn¡¯t want to know, at least, he doesn¡¯t want to hear it from his friend¡¯s mouth.


    ¡±O-okay,¡± Blake only said such and looked down, ¡°can we fly around the city one more time?¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡±Yeah. Let¡¯s enjoy the scene while we still can,¡± he stood up, pulling Blake up with him before he spoke one last word on that tower, ¡°aviation.¡±


    <hr>


    ¡°Where do you think you are going?¡± Ivan paused with one step inside the bedroom upon hearing the familiar tone of anger. He¡¯s used to this. He was alright with it. He¡¯s expecting the punch in his face or chest.


    ¡±I bet you went out with that no-good slum boy again! How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from him!¡± The slum boy, Blake was his best friend who he first met back in primary school. Abid both of them went to different schools, they still somehow bonded outside and ultimately became the best of mates. Ivan had never betrayed his friend and treated him like family, even if his father objects.


    On the other hand, Ivan hated his father¡¯s words, but just can¡¯t come to hate his father personally. It was strange, like having a traumatising scar that reminds you of the past, but you can¡¯t do anything about it, only maybe look away. Every time he was hit, he would curse the situation for happening, yet never the person doing the harm. Every second his father looked at him in disdain was a second he regretted his heisitation, staying in the moment, but never about staying with him. He had already realised it was an alien feeling different from what others felt, but he didn¡¯t say anything to anyone, not even Blake. This was a unique feeling, he had once thought, which he than came to the conclusion that no one must know about this in his own mind; a twisted logic never discovered, hence never corrected.


    After a long time, Ivan simply stood there in silence, enraging his father even more to the point he was about to smash his bottle over his head.


    The sound of glass breaking echoed throughout the house. Ivan still stood by his bedroom door; his expression showed a minor trace of surprise as small glass pieces and liquor fell onto him. A small patch of brown now stained the ceiling with bits of glasses stuck into it as well.


    Ivan aviated the bottle.


    ¡±What?¡± His father, shocked by the sudden force, fell onto the ground with his hands supporting his back and looked at his son dubiously, then fearfully. ¡®Who are you,¡¯ his eyes seem to say as he stared at Ivan as if he was enstranged; no, he is, and has always been enstranged. Ever since his wife left him, he felt that Ivan was not his son, but a stranger living in his house instead.


    Ivan closed his eyes. He realised he screwed up and revealed his secret to the one person he does not want to know.


    Walking into his bedroom, he pulled up his window and climbed through, intending to escape the situation. Turning to his father, he now has a new regret in his mind.


    ¡±Sorry,¡± Ivan apologied; to what, his father was not sure; ¡°...actually, I should have said so earlier.¡±


    Lifting his legs out of the room, he sat by the window and jumped.


    ¡±No!¡± Ivan¡¯s father instantly sobered up and jumped at Ivan, but it was already too late.


    ¡±Aviation,¡± a single word raised Ivan into the sky as he disappeared into the night sky. No one saw a figure flying across the stars except one man.


    Daedulas could only fall in hysteria as he watched his son fly away.


    Neither noticed the other boy spying from afar nor when he spoke a word when Ivan was about to get hit.