《Force of Nature》 Book 1: Prologue - The End Of One Life Author''s note: Hello guys. Here''s my attempt at a fiction. I''ve never written a story before, and my grammar isn''t the best. I''m hoping you can give me some constructive criticism to improve my ability. To be clear, my style is still a work in progress. I''m trying to find a good pace and whatnot. Any italics will be the main character''s thoughts. ------------ Johan weaved through the isles of books in the library, making his way towards the exit. The smell of worn paper and leather covers fills the air. The large wooden bookcases towered over him, immersing him in his own little world free from hot weather and loud people. The ghost of a smirk rested on his face. His eyes darted through the books on display, looking for any late additions to his haul. He was carrying ''On the Origins of The Universe'' and ''Theoretical Physics'', which were on his recommended reading list for class. The closer he got to the exit, the shorter his steps became. He came to a full stop a few feet from the door. He could see the heat waves rising. Johan rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the clock on the wall. With a sigh, he began to trudge outside. "Enjoy your day, sir." The security guard told him. Johan glanced at him, biting back a smart remark. He clutched his books and left. The hot air hit him like a brick wall. He raised his hands to shield his eyes from the merciless rays of the sun, shrinking back like an exposed vampire. He wanted to find a hole to crawl in, but it''s a little hard to do that while blind. When his eyes adjusted, he was greeted by the view of a mass of people. They were all merry. He spied a couple having a loud conversation even though they were walking shoulder to shoulder. "I don''t need to hear this shit," he spat. Johan began threading through the crowd, avoiding any skin contact like the plague. His destination was the subway station right across the street. With any luck, the cool feeling he carried with him from the library will last until he gets out of the suns range. He almost crashed into some idiot taking a selfie in the middle of a busy sidewalk. I should photobomb that idiot with my fist. He clenched his teeth and arrived at the subway. Johan quickly paid his ticket and made his way to the lower level platform. It was the coolest area in the station, and he desperately needed a moment for himself. He tugged at his collar and shifted from left to right. He walked to the edge of the platform and stared down the tunnel. Come to me, train... I demand you show up. "Hey friend, can you help me get something to eat?" a deep voice said from behind him. He swiveled his head to stare down the man before him. The man was tall, at least 6''2, 6''3. A good 4 inches taller than Johan. He had a dark bushy, matted beard that longed for a good grooming and a hairline that was on the run from his forehead. His eyes were hard and piercing. He had a wide stance and his arms were crossed. Is that how you ask for a favor? Johan pointedly looked him up and down. With a wave of the hand, he turned back around and went back to summoning the train. He could see a light coming. "Ain''t I even worth a ''no''?", the man asked in a shaky voice. Johan tilted his head and rubbed his chin. After a few seconds, he replied "No." "You think you''re fucking funny?", the man boomed, attracting unnecessary attention. The throbbing vein in his neck was visible and his face began to flush. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Sir, you seem to be upset. Let me help you; I''ve taken a class in psychology, you see..." WHAP! Johan''s head rocked back. The man''s fist cleanly connected with his nose, sending him sprawling. He fell backwards onto the tracks and hit the back of his head on a rail with a sickening thud. The man''s eyes widened and he flinched back. He looked around, then raced towards an exit. Johan tried to stand but his legs had other plans. Blood ran down his face in scarlet streams. A crowd started to gather around the area he fell from, shrieking and calling for help. Some of them even pulled out their cellphones and began to record the scene. Instead of helping me, they want to record a video to show their friends? That''s the humanity for you. Johan stopped struggling and tried to mentally regroup himself. The train tracks started to shake violently. He stared at the ceiling, tuning out all the noise around him. He felt his heartbeat slow and a hollow feeling rise in his chest. Why does this have to happen to me? Why not an asshole who goes around punching people who won''t feed them? Or some kinda rapist? The train is getting closer and closer, with no inclination of stopping. Must be an express train. Just my luck Haven''t spoken to my parents in years. Guess the first news they''ll get about me is about my death. He chuckled. The train blared it''s horn as it barreled through the station. Ah, fuck this world. Fuck these people. Fuck this train. The light from the train enveloped his body, obscuring his vision. He felt numb. Too weak to even flinch away from the impending doom. It felt like his body was floating. He closed his eyes. Then the train collided into him. He awoke feeling weak, his breathing short and rapid. He flung open his eyes. He found himself hugged closely to a young woman, who was looking intently at him. The woman had smooth, slightly flushed, caramel skin with a complexion to die for. Her chest heaved in and out in ragged breaths. She smiled and her bright, glossy eyes started to moisten. She leaned over and kissed me on my forehead. Johan wanted to ask how he survived, but the words were caught in his throat. She said something in a foreign language, and nodded to her right. Where am I? Why am I alive? Johan looked to his right and saw a woman in a white nun''s habit approaching. There was a golden pentagram embroidered on her right breast. A thick, golden stripe ran down from the collar to the hem. Definitely not catholic... The nun picked him up with ease. He tried to wriggle out of her grip, shocked by the fact that he could be lifted so easily. He looks down and sees a babies body. His eyes widen and he lets out a shrill squeal. She whispered something in a soothing voice, and a warm energy ran through his body. A warm glow radiated from him. What the... Then he lost consciousness.
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Book 1: Chapter 1 - Beginning of Another Authors note: Hello again! First chapter to my story. Hope you enjoy it. ---- It was a cool autumn day. Trees danced in the wind, leaving golden brown leaves to decorate the ground. The sun beamed gleefully on Flint village, uncontested by a single cloud. A mass of excited children sat by a lake, surrounding a tall, muscular man. Johan, five years old now, is mingled in this crowd; his eyes dull and shoulders slumped. This reminded him of that one party he went to in college; everyone was excited and having a good time while he wondered why he bothered to leave the house. "Traveler, tell us about King again!" a chubby little kid demanded. Traveler arched an eyebrow and began pacing in front of the kids, his chiseled arms folded. His dark eyes regarded the children with warmth, a slight smirk resting on his face. A thin, pale yellow disc could be seen at the crown of his head, floating like an angel''s halo. Johan followed the halo''s movement as if in a stupor. He stopped at the center of the kids and cleared his throat with an exaggerated cough. "In the beginning," he started, "there was only Void. A dark, swirling mass!" "Then out of the void appeared Mana, the driving force behind everything we see and love. All else was silent, empty, endless, and dark. Then Mother came, followed by Father." he said in a low, drawn out voice. "Mother and Father spent innumerable years painting the universe to their desires! Where they saw darkness, they created the stars. Where they desired a place to rest, they created planets. Whatever it is they wanted, they brought it to be! You all know what stars and planets are, right?" "Yeah!" the kids shouted in unison. "What planet are we on right now, then?" "Gaia!" I can''t get used to this. Johan let out a heavy sigh. "Good job! So, to get back to it: Mother and Father soon felt happy with all they accomplished. The universe would grow on it''s own from what they started. Mother and Father felt that their work was done, and now all that was left was to leave behind a legacy. They had eight children, one right after the other. The kids were raised for a time, and their power grew greatly. But how could they match the might of their parents? They were forbidden from touching any of Mother and Fathers creations, and they were powerless to refuse. All of that power, and they weren''t even allowed to use it. Naturally they felt sad." "After thousands of years of rest, Mother and Father decided to leave. The children had a bitter sweet feeling. On one hand, their beloved parents are leaving. On the other hand, they''d have the freedom to do anything they want! And who doesn''t like freedom, right kids?" "Yeah!" a couple of kids shouted. Johan wagged his leg up and down, a frown settling on his face. "It turns out that the universe wasn''t big enough for the eight of them. They argued over who should control what solar solar system. This led to an awesome battle between the children over control. Any planets unfortunate enough to be caught in the scuffle slapped away like an annoying fly! The battle ended with five of the children dead. King was the victor, and Liam and Love were to be his servants." "King ruled with an iron fist. He sent avatars to each civilized planet to spread his name, gathering followers and becoming a person of worship. His word was law and he demanded complete loyalty of his subjects! Just about every planet knew of him. His followers were given knowledge of the arts and mana. His most powerful believers were reborn and blessed with a divine body. King destroyed tons of planets refusing his teachings." One of the kids meekly raised a hand. "Yes, little one?" "What is ''avatar''?" "An avatar is.... like having a copy of yourself. King created tons of copies of himself, and only he could make so many because he was very strong! Each of those copies thought like King and listened to him, but none of them were as strong as him. Get it?" "Yes" the kid mumbled shyly, hanging his head down. Traveler smiled at the kid. "Okay, so Liam grew tired of King playing favorites and came up with a plan. He created a avatars of his own and sent them to a couple of planets that denied his teachings. However, this wasn''t enough! He didn''t have the power that King had, so he couldn''t fill the universe with his avatars. So he created a powerful familiar that helps lifeforms get a divine body! He spent a lot of his energy to create such a powerful being, and was left very weak and sick." "King found out that the nonbelievers were suddenly able to fight back! One of his avatars saw a nonbeliever receive a divine body from a familiar that he didn''t recognize. He was furious! Hadn''t he earned the right to rule. How could he let himself be undermined like this? He hunted Liam down and tied him to a very large, hot planet. Laying on his back, too weak to defend himself, he was hit by a meteor every night for years." Traveler slammed his fist into his open palm, resulting in a loud thwack. The children flinched a little. "Then he created Calamity, to bring doom to everyone that dares to ascend!" "What''s Calamity?" one child cut in. "Don''t you even know what that is? Dummy." another kid whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. "Now, now, no need for that," Traveler said trying to calm them. "Calamity and Ascension go hand in hand. When you get strong enough, you are visited by the familiar and blessed with a divine body. This is Ascension. Right after, Calamity will visit you. Calamity will bring hordes of monsters to slaughter you. Only by surviving this trial can you earn the right to live as an immortal!" Traveler cleared his throat with a cough. "To continue, Love spent these years gathering strength, getting ready to free Liam. When it was time, she stormed the planet and released him. She then hastily ascended with him to the higher realm. King hadn''t noticed for decades, until he tried visiting Liam. He searched the universe for decades, only to find himself alone now. Filled with rage and jealousy, he followed them into the higher realm, eager to catch them." "In the time since, our ancestors had children, and their children had children, and so on. That led to us being here today!" The kids broke out in excited chatter. Traveler looked around at the kids, chest puffed out and a broad smile on his face. Johan snorted. "How do we use magic," he asked as innocently as possible. The kids around him all loudly agreed and began pleading. "Fufu, you really want to know?" Johan''s right eye twitched. "Please tell us, Grandpa Traveler..." "Who''re you calling ''Grandpa''! ...To tell the truth, you guys are too young. When you get older, around 11 or 12, you can activate your Root and start to control the mana around you." He replied. "How do we activate our root," Johan quickly fired back. "Hahah, eager aren''t you? Normally, activating it on your own would take years of meditation and insight. But we can activate it simply with the artifact left to us by Liam." he laughed "Don''t worry, some day you will be able to do... this!" he said and held up his right arm. With a flick of his wrist, a blue flame appeared in the middle of his palm. Traveler was more than 10 feet away from the kids. But Johan could still feel the heat caressing his cheeks. His eyes widened and he leaned in, observing the majestic figure in front of him. Traveler''s halo hung behind his head like the setting sun, emitting a pale yellow light. His face was masked by the light, revealing only the sight of his sharp, prideful eyes. The flames obediently hovered in the center of his palm as a dense blue sphere. When will it be my turn... "Well, uncle needs to go eat. I''ll see you guys in 30 minutes. Maybe I''ll tell you all about the time I fought a black scaled dragon with my bare hands!" he laughed. He willed the fire away, causing the children to let out a collective ''Aww''. Johan stood up, swatted the dirt off of his pants, and headed down a dirt road that lead to his house. It''s been three years already. This is definitely too long for a dream. He ran his fingers through his coarse hair and looked up at the sky. Reality or not, Mana is definitely worthy enough to hold my interest. He shrugged. His eyes gleamed, enchanted by the scenery in front of him. Large wooden houses lined the path with twisted, rippling Oak trees occasionally breaking the pattern. Leaves lay scattered across the ground, dry and decaying. But the land was teeming with life; birds flying to and fro, happily chirping. Rabbits scurrying across the dirt path, desperate to cross before Johan gets any closer. He smiled lightly, inhaling the faint smell of nature. He thought back to the city he once lived in. Graffiti sprayed along stores and abandoned houses. Trash lined the street. The pungent smell of gas and sewer fumes. Wildlife left to pick through the trash for our leftovers. Waking up to the angry honking of horns. Give me this kind of environment any day. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He arrived approached his house and noticed that the door was open. He walked around the front to peer into the yard. His mother, Adamaris, was humming a faint tune that all mothers seem to instinctively know. She was at least five foot eleven inches tall with a body like an Amazonian. Her thick brown dreadlocks were tied up in a rushed bun, with each lock of hair sprawling about like the tentacles of an octopus. A luminous pale earth green halo adorned the crown of her head, giving her facial features a soft green glow. Beautiful. She swiveled her head and smiled at Johan. He flinched back. How did she know? SLAP. "Don''t you do anything right? Why do you make me do this to you? If you can''t understand simple addition, don''t bother thinking about playtime! That''s something you earn! Do you hear me!?" An deep voice snarled. Johan turned around to see Kieran Ashford and his father Arsen. Kieran stood with a stiff posture, his hands draped at his sides and his head faced down. His pale white face was marked by the red outline of a strong hand. Tears threatened to fall from his moist, red eyes. He looked to be the same age as Johan, give or take a couple of months. "Isn''t it sad how Arsen treats his son?" Adamaris shook her head. "It''s not like I can tell him how to treat his own kid, right Jojo?" "I guess so, mommy. Maybe someone should beat him and see how he likes it!" Who says I don''t play a convincing child? "Right, right. Let''s get something in your tummy!" she giggled. She placed the laundry basket aside and walked with Johan into the house. The smell of freshly baked bread danced into his nostrils. He began to salivate. He took a seat at the small family table in the middle of the kitchen, and watched his mother. Adamaris walked over to a cupboard and took out a loaf of dark bread. She carried it to the family table, picking up a knife on her way. With a practiced hand, she began hacking thick slices off, each as thick as the other. She wasn''t bulky in any sense of the word, but her forearm muscles flared with each sawing motion. I don''t even have any memories of my own mother doing this for me. He frowned a bit. She walked over to Johan and laid the pieces of bread in front of him. "Thanks mom" he said before attacking his meal. "So what story did Traveler tell you today?" She asked, resting her head on her hands. "He told us about King and how the universe was started. At the end he showed us magic!" He almost choking on his food. She chuckled and passed him a flask. "How do I become strong like King?", he asked. "Well... that''s very hard to do, Jojo. First you would need to go to school and get a proper education! Only after working very hard and learning a lot will you become strong," she said while wagging her finger at him. How cute. "When can I do that?" he pouted. "You can start when you turn 14" she smiled. "Okay, so I''ll go to the best school and become the strongest mage!" he said with certainty. "Well mommy will support you the entire way!" she giggled. Johan finished his food and left the house. It was late in the afternoon and the suns rays were beginning to lose it''s strength. A cool breeze dared to make it''s way through the village. He headed down a path to the forest bordering the village and arrived at a large oak that cast a great shadow. "So I have to wait 7 more years before I can even get a taste of magic." he sighed. He took a quick look around. The land was flat and free of rocks on the ground for the most part. This is as good a place as any. His eyes slowly closed and his breathing became steady. Calm yourself. Then he began practicing the various yoga asanas. He recalled the countless days that he would practice the asanas to relieve stress before a major test. He tried it on a whim after reading about it online, but the results were profound. His mind would clear up, his mood would improve, and his body would feel great. This sparked his interest in eastern philosophy and spirituality. An hour passed before he finished going through the motions. He sat at the base of the tree. There was a pleasant stillness to his mind. Thoughts slowly stopped bubbling into existence, leaving him with intense focus. After half an hour of sitting there, unmoving, his body started shaking slightly. A whooshing sound resounded in his ears, and he felt himself leaving his body. "My first time trying to astral project in this world. Success." He smiled. Odd. His translucent astral body was a dim red color. I''m certain that my body was a bluish white color back on Earth. Is it because I''m on a different planet? He strutted about in his astral body, trying to get a feel for the world. He brought his astral body to the opposite side of the sprawling Oak tree and plopped down. With a straight posture, he stabilized his breath and sharpened his concentration. He took several slow, deep breaths. A warm feeling permeated through his body, causing a shiver to run up his spine. "There''s something about the air here... it''s so rich!" he exclaimed, with a wide smile on his face. "It''s faint but I definitely feel that something is there..." He wrinkles his nose trying to understand what he''s feeling. "I am a KING! You trouble me, you trouble God! I will STOMP the enemy!" a nearby voice rasped in rapid succession. Johan''s eyes shot open. Gak!? He flinched so hard that the back of his head slammed into the tree he sat against. Several humanoid figures stumbled through the forest. Darkness caressed their bodies, falling off of them like a heavy mist. Their long bodies were as translucent as a foggy window. Their face were fixed in a heavy frown and low growls escaped their throats. "What the fuck?" Johan swore. His gulped and took slow a step forward. The humanoids didn''t even glance in his direction. Shuddering, he walked in the direction they came from. If something is about to happen to the village, he''d rather not be taken unaware. He cut through the crowd of ghostly figures, making sure to give them plenty of space. Their insane ramblings whispered in his ear like sweet nothings. His breathing quickened. He arrived at an area where the trees have all been cleared. There''s a single grave in the middle, with an aged tombstone guarding it. He could see the word ''Founder'' carved along the top. "There''s not a single ghost in that area..." Sweat poured down his forehead as he slowly entered the area. I don''t feel anything different. His eyes darted around, identifying any sound made. He walked towards the grave. "Ahah, you''re back!" An amused voice behind him shouted. Johan''s body immediately stiffened and he felt his stomach drop. He stood there, mid-stride, frozen like a deer in headlights. "Uhh, kid...?" Johan darted out of the clearing and slammed back into his body. His trembling body jerked up in a cold sweat. He flew down the dirt path to his house, ran into the room, and tumbled onto his bed. Adamaris peaked into the room and saw Johan trembling underneath the sheets. "Is everything okay, honey?" she asked "Y-yeah, mom. Just gonna get some rest...." he stammered out.
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Book 1: Chapter 2 - Damaged Soul Nine years have passed. Thick dark clouds raged across the sky. A group of kids around the age of 14 are walking through Flint village, led by a wiry old man. Johan has grown to 5 foot 11 inches, rivaling the height of his mother. He has an athletic build that is at odds with his bookworm personality. He''s trailing behind the group, one arm holding the other at the elbow. "You''ll be participating in the test soon, kids. Any questions?" the old man asked. A tall, lanky elven figure spoke up, "What does the test consist of?" Flint village has an artifact that tests a person''s capabilities and assists them in activating their root. Artifacts are usually exclusive to cities and towns. The cost of getting one is monumental, and finding one is no easy feat. Flint village was founded by a powerful mage a century ago. That mage, using his connections and resources, was able to acquire one of Liam''s artifacts for the village. For a small fee, nearby villages can send children to participate in the test. "We have Liam''s black rock, an artifact that stimulates your third eye and gives us a clear understanding of the state of your soul. When you grab the artifact, your root activates and the Glory will be formed at the crown of your head," he said, gesturing at his own bright yellow halo resting at the crown of his head. "From weakest to strongest, the Glory ranks are red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Upon activation, one''s Glory will be red, orange, or, rarely, yellow. Red is weak and below average. Orange is average. Yellow is exceptional. The intensity of your Glory''s light determines the strength of your soul, while the color of your Glory determines the maturity of your root." "A mature root strengthens your mana, while the soul acts a bridge between your root and the mana around you. Therefore, a sturdy soul allows for a strong connection. This test will give you a clear understanding of the maturity of your root and the strength of your soul." Johan furrowed his brows and crossed his arms. "I don''t get it. So the only difference between a sturdy soul and a magnificent soul is the connection? What does that even mean?" "The stronger your soul is, the more sensitive you are to the mana around you. When you reach a bottle neck, the strength of your soul determines whether it''ll take 10 years to break through or 100 years. A sensitive soul is able to perceive more, which naturally leads to a deeper understanding of the arts. Your rate of improvement will be miles ahead of your peers." Johan stroked his chin. "Is there anything we can practice to strengthen our soul?" "Meditation naturally strengthens the soul. Your soul is used as a bridge between the root and the mana around you. A very small amount of that mana will settle in your soul, strengthening it. However, it takes decades to see any noticeable gains because most of the mana goes straight to the root." "Thank you, sir." Johan had a lot of new information he had to sift through. He walked in silence, while trying to get a deeper understanding of the relationship between the root and the soul. They entered the bordering forest and walked down a winding dirt ath. The kids were animatedly talking to each other, trying to guess at what color they''ll rank at. They spoke of their dreams of money, women, and power. Gushing over starting their own kingdom, traveling the world, and taming dragons. Johan swept his gaze across his peers, a hard look in his eyes. You guys may have the power to bend the universe to your will, and you''re preoccupied with money and women still? Johan shook his head. Bending the universe to one''s will was no exaggeration. At the highest rank, one would have the power to soar through the sky, destroy planets, and more. But Johan didn''t want the power just for the sake of having power. He had a thirst for knowledge and understanding; whether it was on Earth or on Gaia, he wanted to understand what made the universe tick. Kieran trotted up beside Johan. "We''ll probably be the top kids here" he snorted. "Our parents are the strongest in Flint village, after all." Johan regarded him with a steady look. "I guess." They walked shoulder to shoulder in silence for a bit, stepping over thick tree roots and avoiding trees. "I''m gonna aim for the top school. After I graduate I''m gonna apply to The Order and then join the King''s Gilgam Group. I''ll take over this small village and raise it to become a huge town! It''ll be known throughout the world. Anyone whose ever insulted me or my family will definitely pay for it." He spoke with awe, impressing himself with his aspirations. The Order is the largest and oldest society for those with a high aptitude in the arts. It''s a non-profit organization open to those at the yellow rank or above. Statistically speaking, fewer than 5% of the population will ever reach a yellow rank, making the society quite exclusive. Being a member of The Order makes you a VIP; stores may lower their prices, you can own land without having to pay a tax, and more. The king will often pick members for his personal and most trusted group of mages, the Gilgam Group, from The Order. The Gilgam Group admits solely based on skill and potential. It''s not possible to buy your way in. The members are sworn to secrecy, telling no one of their membership. The king made public the existence of his group to attract any hidden talents in his nation. The Gilgam Group is the life goal for thousands of mages. Johan just stared at him. I''m not good with this kind of person. "That''s a nice dream, Kieran." Johan said carefully. Surely that''s neutral enough. Kieran nodded his head in satisfaction. "What about you, Jojo?" they continued down the path. "What are you gonna do?" he pestered. Johan sighed. I Can''t take this dick measuring. "I don''t know yet. I don''t even know what color I''ll rank at. I probably won''t even rank anything special, knowing my luck. God had to place some kind of handicap on me to make it fair for the rest of you." he chuckled. Kieran shot him a glare. "You think you''re better than me?" he snarled. "It was just a joke man. Like I said, I doubt I''ll produce anything special. Expect the worst, so when it happens, it''s not as heartbreaking. That''s my motto, brother." Kieran regarded him with a steady look, before walking off. Johan felt a little too familiar with the area, but he couldn''t quite place why. He noticed the trees thinning the further they walked. From a distance he could see a clearing, with a grave in the center that read ''Founder''. He shuddered. He avoided this part of the forest since the day he saw ghosts. He hasn''t even astral projected again. His eyes shifted from place to place, searching for danger. "This is Founder''s Rest, where the founder of our village lies. We do the tests in his presence, to thank him for blessing us with this artifact." the old man droned. "You''ll remember this moment for the rest of your life! Do well on this test and a world of power, money, and opportunity awaits you." "Come on now, line up so we can get this started." he barked, frightening the kids into order. "Step up. I''ll heal you, to make sure you''re at your best. Then you can grab the artifact." The old man pulled a shiny black rock out from his robe. It looked like a cut gem, and it had a faint glow. At the sight of the artifact, all of the kids paled and began to sweat. Artifacts are said to be left behind by either the King''s or Betrayer''s avatars. It''s like holding a piece of history. The first kid stepped up to the old man. With a wave of his hand, the old man sent a warm wave of light over the kid''s body. The kid clenched his jaw and looked at the artifact with focus. He grabbed the artifact. A crackling noise was sent running through the forest. A dim orange light bloomed from the crystal, lightly painting everything around him. Moments later, the Glory formed over his head as a flat orange disc. The kid sucked in a breath. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. "Next!" the old man barked. The kid excitedly handed back the artifact and skipped to the side of the line. The line progressed smoothly, with the old man making sure to waste no time. Most testers gave off an orange light of varying intensities. None shined too brightly. The lanky elven from earlier managed to get a dim yellow color, causing many in the line to fidget with envy. Elves are naturally more gifted than humans when it comes to mana and the arts. Johan waited at the back of the line calm but excited. Kieran stood in front of him looking nonplussed. "Seems like only that elven kid is worth any attention." Kieran sneered. "My dad says that my Glory will probably be yellow." "Huh. How does he know?" "What?" Kieran frowned. "That your Glory is gonna be yellow. How does he know? There''s no way to determine that kind of thing before trying. No matter how good your parents are, it doesn''t mean that''ll pass on to you. Besides, your dad doesn''t even have a yellow ranked Glory himself." A few kids nearby nodded in agreement, staring daggers at Kieran. Kieran''s face flushed. "Why don''t you just mind your business? No one was talking to you," he spat. "Don''t think out loud if you''re afraid of other people''s opinions." Johan shrugged. "Y-You! -" Kieran sputtered. "NEXT!" the old man cut in. Kieran gave Johan a sharp look. Johan only chuckled. Kieran walked over to the old man and doused in a warm light. All of the anger he previously felt melted from his expression. He took a deep breath and grabbed the artifact. The same crackling sound was heard, louder than before. A steady, warm golden light burst forth, causing some of the kids to suck in a breath. Son of a bitch... "Congratulations," the old man smiled. Kieran handed the artifact back in a daze and walked over to the side of the line. Johan stared at him. "Next! Don''t just stand there!" The old man barked. Johan walked over to the old man. The same warm light flowed over his body. It was a comfortable, tame feeling. A cool breeze lofted through the forest, making the trees fidget with anxiety. He looked closely at the black rock in the old man''s hands. It had an eerie purple glow to it. He reached out and could feel the skin on his arms crawl as he got closer to the artifact. He gripped the artifact and faint crackling could be heard. A pale imitation of the reverberating cracks that Kieran produced. A flickering, dim red light sputtered from the artifact. The kids around him stared at the scene, jaws dropped. They didn''t know whether to pity him or laugh at him. A faint red Glory struggled to existence at the crown of Johan''s head. I knew it. He sighed. The old man regarded him with a look of pity. Johan''s results were the worst among his peers; he likely wouldn''t live this day down. Those with red ranked Glorys are referred to as the ''Red Peasants''. They have little talent for the arts and cultivation. A Red Peasant is expected to stay at that stage for most of his life. "Why did it flicker?" Johan asked. The old man was impressed by the lack of a reaction from Johan. "That means your soul is weak, possibly damaged... Not only is your rank red, but your connection is weak. I''m sorry, but I''d recommend you look for a different path in life." Johan stood there, contemplating his options. "Okay, those of you who scored well and plan on applying to a school, I''ll be headed to the capital in two days. If you plan on coming with me, you can. Break the news to your parents today, make any preparations to leave tomorrow, and be ready to leave in the early morning two days from now." They started walking back to the village. Everyone was excited, crowding around the elven kid and Kieran. Kieran stood at the center, laughing gaudily, puffing out his chest, and acting like a king. He loved the attention. Johan walked separate from the crowd, brooding in silence. "That confirmed it. My soul was originally at the blue rank, but somehow dropped down to the red rank. But why? Is there really no way to strengthen my soul? These people probably just haven''t thought of one yet..." he mumbled to himself. The elven kid trotted over to Johan, with a look of pity in his eyes. Johan was so deep in thought that he didn''t notice his approach. "Hey there, I''m Argus. I''m sorry about what happened today man. Never give up! Work hard and maybe you can raise your rank!" he said with a smile. "Eh?" Johan looked up, hearing someone talk in his direction. "Oh, hey. Congratulations. What do you plan to do?" "Uh, I dunno really. Haven''t really thought that far ahead. I''ll probably go to school, but after that... well, I''ll cross that bridge when I get there." "Fair -" "Hey Argus! What''re you doing with that Red Peasant?" Kieran shouted, cutting Johan off. People around him broke out into laughter. "He really couldn''t even make a steady light" one said between laughs. Argus shrank into himself and gave Johan an embarrassed look. Johan shrugged. "I grew up with some of these kids and they turn on me at the first sign of weakness." he chuckled. "I expected no less. People are only with you as long as it benefits them." Kieran trotted over to Johan and Argus, a smug expression fixed on his face. "Hmm. Didn''t a certain Red Peasant say I my Glory wouldn''t be yellow? Do you feel dumb now?" he sneered. "Nope. I said you don''t know for sure. It seems that being a yellow rank doesn''t help your listening skills, clown." "You still want to insult me!?" "Listen man, you approached me, trying to impress me with your rank. Go show off to your daddy; I don''t want to hear any of that crap." "Ohhhhh," the kids around him began to say, trying to instigate a fight. They crowded around Johan and Kieran, setting the stage for them. "Are you gonna let a Red Peasant talk to you like that?" one of them chuckled. Kieran''s Glory seemed to intensify with his rage. He clenched his fist and cut in front of Johan, blocking his path. Johan loosened his posture. He had a wide stance and his arms were loose at his side, knuckles cracking with anticipation. He stared Kieran down with intense scrutiny; not daring to miss the smallest detail. The last time he was sucker punched, he lost his life. He wasn''t about to let that happen again. Kieran seemed to wilt under his gaze. At that moment, the old man cut through the crowd and broke it up. He grabbed both Kieran and Johan by the back of their neck, applying a bit of pressure. "Save this shit when you get home, I don''t need anyone''s parents blaming me for your injuries!" he bellowed. The group broke up and continued walking. Johan rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the old man. That guy is stronger than he looks. They arrived at the village, and most of the kids took off to do their own thing. Johan was still trying to think of a way to strengthen his soul. He decided to head for the village library to see if he could find any information there. As he made his way to the book store, he heard an angry shout behind him. "Hey, Red Peasant!"
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Book 1: Chapter 3 - Know Your Place Authors Corner: Gah. Fight scenes are pretty tough. It''s a good learning experience for me though. Hope you enjoy. ------- Kieran approached with a smug walk. His golden Glory enveloped his head, causing many villagers to stare at him in awe. He wasted no time at all boasting of his Glory and strutting around the village, showing it off to everyone he sees. Many of them call out to him, hoping to curry favor with him before he leaves them too far behind. To them, he looks like a fresh, new hope. To Johan, he just looks like the embodiment of trouble. Johan doesn''t dignify the remark with a response. He continues to walk towards the library as if he never heard anything. This kid doesn''t know how to let things go. Kieran ran in front of him and stood a couple of feet away. He was just a hair shorter than Johan, but they had similar builds. He crossed his arms and stared at Johan with quiet intensity. He pointedly looked at his dim red Glory and chuckled. "I called you, Red Peasant. I don''t like how you spoke to me earlier. Apologize." he demanded. The mature thing to do would be to apologize. "Go fuck yourself, clown." he said icily. Kieran flinched, then clenched his fists. The nearby villagers already began to form a crowd. Kieran''s temperament was widely known in the village; the fact that he now had a golden Glory made him the hot topic. He looked around at the spectators frantically, feeling the pressure. Johan stood stone still, staring holes into Kieran''s head. Kieran flushed. "You piece of trash!" he snarled. Kieran lunged at Johan. Johan bent his knees and raised his hands, getting into a defensive posture. Kieran planted two hands on Johan''s chest and shoved him with all of his might. He staggered backwards and fell over a nearby crate; landing on his back with a thud. His white shirt got tattered and dirty from the excitement. He felt a stinging pain from his elbow. Some of the onlookers gasped while others laughed. "Why would he try to fight someone with a Golden glory?" they chuckled. Johan laid on his back for a while, staring at the deep gray clouds in the sky that threatened to rain any minute. Kieran stood there wearily, not sure what to expect. Johan got up slowly, then ran towards Kieran. He flinched, not expecting him to continue. Kieran threw a hasty telegraphed punch, screaming out in effort. Johan slipped the punch and rammed his left fist into his nose with a sickening thud. Kieran''s head rocked back, blood spurting down his nose and onto his shirt. He stumbled backwards, fighting for balance. Johan grimaced; his knuckles were throbbing in pain. Even so, he didn''t let Kieran gather himself. He ran and tackled him, his shoulder catching him in the pit of his stomach. Kieran doubled over, gasping for air. Johan wrestled him down to the ground, Kieran struggling in vain. He sat on his chest, repeatedly pounding down on his face. Kieran threw his hands in front of his face in an attempt to ward off the blows but it did no good. "This kid is getting wrecked by a Red Peasant," a young onlooker laughed. "Well, they haven''t learned how to manipulate mana yet so I guess it makes sense. The little one picked his fight a little too soon." another said with pity. Suddenly an angry figure shoved through the crowd. His strong hand gripped Johan by the collar and threw him off, nearly ripping his shirt off in the process. Johan was sent sprawling towards the crowd. The crowd shrieked, leaping out of the way before they got hit. He gathered himself and frantically looked for the interference. It was Kieran''s father, Arsen. Arsen regarded Johan with a cold, hard look for a moment. His deep orange Glory hung behind his head like the flames of an angry god. His face was red with rage. He turned around in a huff, scooped up Kieran''s limp body, and walked off. Johan got up and stood there. The adrenaline left his body, leaving him shaking uncontrollably. His hands throbbed; punching someone in the head without protection can be a very painful experience to an untrained person. I won''t be able to study like this. He walked back to his home, ignoring the jeers of the villagers. Everyone looked at him with either pity or contempt. His dim red Glory was a constant reminder of his status as a Red Peasant. Johan took it in stride. As far as he was concerned, anything was possible. He would find some way to strengthen his soul; after that, it would be a matter of time before he shakes the world with his insight and discovery. He lives more for himself than the whims of others. He entered his home, and headed to his room to find a spare shirt. His mom and dad were there snuggling in bed. Their jaws dropped as they saw him walk in with a tattered, dirty shirt and blood on his knuckles. "Who did it?" Adamaris asked. It sounded less like a question and more like a demand. "Calm down, Adie..." Johan''s father, Baldwin, said. Baldwin looked like a war-torn giant. He was 6 feet 2 inches of hard, rippling muscle. Soft pink scars marked his arms and chest, speaking of the danger he''s been through in life. The bright yellow Glory encircling his head made him look like a mythological figure. "What happened, Jojo?" Baldwin asked. Johan explained what happened during the test. Only then did their parents seem to notice the red Glory hovering about his head. They flinched; they knew how red Glorys are treated. This wasn''t something that would go away with age, follows people for the rest of their lives. Then Johan spoke about his squabble with Kieran. "You want me to talk to his father, Jojo?" she asked. "Nah, it''s fine. No major harm done." To me, anyway. "As they say, a little childhood drama builds character" Baldwin said. "Are you okay... you know, about the test? I know it must have been hard on you," Adamaris asked. "Well, yeah," Johan said. "I wasn''t too confident about it to begin with. Maybe there''s still a chance for me. Who knows." "To be honest, the chances are extremely slim. But you''re an intelligent kid! If you still want to be involved in magic, you can try to become a Mana Theorist." Adamaris said. "What do they do?" "Mana Theorists help practitioners come up with new, more efficient ways to use their mana. Most of the skills you see today, like healing or walking on water, were proposed by these theorists. The geniuses in this field are usually hired by a powerful family, or even the king. They want to have complete rights over any new innovations that are put out." Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Johan went silent as he considered that option. That didn''t sound too bad to him. With his knowledge of science, and even the little he knows about mythology and video games, he felt that he could come up with some formidable new ways to use mana. He fondly recalled the scientific method, something he was all to familiar with from his university days: come up with a hypothesis, test it, draw a conclusion, rinse and repeat. It definitely played to his strengths. But how can he come up with tests around something that he can''t use or understand himself? "That... isn''t a bad idea. I''ll consider it. I need to go for a walk to clear my head though, I''ll be back soon." "Be careful." his parents said gravely, in unison. Johan picked out a random shirt and draped it over himself. He was never one to care about fashion. He remembered how he would get frequent complaints from his friends about wearing the same clothes every day. Books and studying were far more important to him than the fit or color of his shirt. As long as he had his intelligence and was in good shape, he was happy with himself. He left the village and ran to an empty part of the forest. The hilly terrain and winding path proved to be a challenge for him. He plopped down and rested for a bit, trying to catch his breath. After a few minutes, he started practicing the asanas, quickly feeling the agitation and anxiety leave his body. After an hour, he sat down and meditated. He had a lot on his mind and he wanted to tackle each issue with extreme clarity. Another hour passed while he sat in silence. Suddenly he heard the ruffling of leaves nearby and a twig snapping. His eyes swung open and darted around, looking for the source of the disturbance. He took no chances in this forest. Though he didn''t have to worry about any dangerous animals in the area, because there weren''t any, he couldn''t forget that ghosts prowled around invisible to the naked eye. He got to his feet and put his back to the tree, crouched low and ready to run at a moments notice. Kieran stepped out from behind a tree, wearing the same bloody rags Johan last saw him in. His nose didn''t bleed anymore, but it had a large red mark that threatened to become a bruise. Parts of his face were swollen from his earlier beating, some turning a shade of purple-black. His look was venomous. His chest was heaving in and out, and his eyes red. It looked like he had just been crying. Two other youths stepped out alongside him, cockiness exuded from their every step. They were at least six feet tall and well muscled. They had a slight smirk on their face, as if they expected to enjoy what was about to happen. Hands lazily hanging in their pockets, they stood by Kieran, staring at Johan with a steady gaze. Johan''s heart skipped a beat. This kid really doesn''t let a thing go. "What''s wrong, Kiki?" Johan said with believable false bravado. "You fucker!" he spat, rolled up his sleeves, and stomped towards him. Johan was about to say something until he saw the black and blue bruises that ran down Kieran''s arm. Arsen''s treatment of his son was no secret. It wasn''t hard to guess that Arsen beat his son the second they got behind closed doors. Not only did he cause a scene and get into a fight in public, but he got beat up and embarrassed by a Red Peasant. For an ambitious family that deeply valued respect and public image, this was unforgivable. "Wait a minute..." Johan said. Kieran was shaking with anger. He was already passed the point of talking this out. The two followers left Kieran''s side, trying to surround Johan. Johan dashed towards Kieran, dipping and weaved right just as he was about to reach him. He threw a quick jab, sending Kieran into a panic. Kieran leaned backwards, narrowly avoiding the punch. He lost his balance and stumbled backwards into a tree. Johan took advantage and put his full body into a kick. It connected with his stomach, making Kieran double over and fall to one knee, fighting the urge to vomit. The two followers rushed in. Johan ran to meet the closest one and sent a hard kick to his knee. A loud pop rang out. He shrieked and his face contorted in pain. He fell forward, only to have a knee connect cleanly with his face. His limp body fell to the ground, groaning and bloody. The other follower was on him; he tackled Johan to the ground and restrained him with a bear hug. Kieran straightened himself with effort, his face red with rage and eyes bloodshot. He ran over and kicked Johan in the head. A loud ringing resounded in Johan''s head, like someone just rang a bell. The follower restraining him let go and got up. Kieran and the follower began ruthlessly stomping on him. He tried to curl into a ball and protect his head, but it was useless; he was too groggy. They were generous with the pain. They trampled him for at least a minute, snarling obscenities. They stopped to catch their breath, staring daggers into Johan''s limp body. Kieran spat on him. He brought a thick rope out of his pocket and tied the weak Johan to a nearby Oak tree. Johan tried to struggle, but his limbs weren''t listening to him. Kieran fastened the rope, and stooped in front of Johan. He slapped him across the face three times, making sure to keep eye contact. "This is what happens when you fuck with me. Don''t let me see you again you fucking Red Peasant. You need to know your place," he snarled. He watched them pick up the downed follower, who wailed and writhed in protest. They left his sight, and the forest was quiet again. Johan''s brain was muddled and his body ached; he had two or three cracked ribs, a bloody nose, and bruises all over. But he was alive. Fights were more than just scuffles to him, they were a desperate life and death struggle. He grimaced, and slowly let himself fall into a deep sleep.
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Book 1: Chapter 4 - Whats a World Walker? Author''s Corner: A shorter chapter this time around, folks. As I get better, I plan to release chapters of at least 5k words each. But for now, I''ll make due with this ------- The sun had begun to set, the visibility of the forest dropping to eerie levels. The burly gray clouds tumbling through the sky finally decided they had enough and released the rain. The cold droplets woke Johan with a start. He grimaced, his cracked ribs sending a sharp pain cascading through the right side of his body. His mouth tasted of iron, and a searing pain on his lower lip let him know that it was split. He looked down at the ropes that bound him. They were thick ropes, tied firmly, but not too firmly. Thank God for that. This was his first day trapped in the forest. The rain sated his thirst for now, but nothing could be done for his hunger. His stomach rumbled, echoing through the quiet, dark forest. The jagged bark of the Oak tree he laid against dug into his back. He tried to adjust to no avail, his face started to turn red. "With the weather the way it is, no one will probably come and get me until morning," he thought aloud. If they come get me at all... His clothes were soaked by now, sticking closely to his body. He struggles against the ropes that bind him, probing for a weakness. The rope is sturdy and his struggles only lead to the bark digging themselves deeper into his skin. He gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils. This fucker really went too far. On the second day of being trapped in the forest, the hunger set in. The rain stopped, but the thick murky clouds still loomed overhead, threatening another downpour. Johan fell in and out of sleep, shaking and sneezing from the wet that seeped into him. His skin felt clammy and his body felt weak. The rain washed the blood off of his face, leaving only dark red-brown stains on his shirt. His arms began to chafe terribly. The pain of his injuries and the relentless stabbing of the tree bark made him seethe with rage. He sat there, helplessly, his head hanging down trying to think of a way out of the situation. He began to shout for help, hoping it would echo throughout the forest and attract someone''s attention. After hours of shouting, his voice went hoarse and his throat felt ragged. The hunger set in with a ferocity. He wasn''t particularly thirsty, but his stomach kept churning and doing backflips, demanding that he eat immediately. It didn''t help that he needed to pee. The only thing on his mind was Kieran and his friends. He constantly replayed the last scene he remembered: getting slapped across the face three times and threatened. He shook with rage, the feeling of humiliation and helplessness fresh in his mind. On the third day, he drifted in and out of consciousness. The hunger was painful at this point, and the agitation from the chafing and tree bark sent his mind spiraling. He believed that he would die. Seeking a way to escape the pain, he began to steady his breathing. Each breath agitated his cracked ribs, sending pain barreling throughout his body like streaks of lightning. But he endured it. He let go of any thoughts of revenge, humiliation, regret, or anger. The only thing Johan desired was to escape the pain and hunger. His body began to numb and the solitude of his mind occupied his full attention. After a few hours of silence and deep breathing, that familiar whooshing sound resounded in his ears. He left his body. His astral form descended in front of his physical body. He was shocked by his current state. His body looked like that of a tattered doll. The bones of his face were clearly exposed at this point, his face was still swollen and discolored in some areas, his shirt was torn and painted red and brown from blood and dirt. Someone passing by might mistake him for a corpse. He shuddered. He felt the connection to his body growing weaker by the day. He heard heavy panting and grunts around him. He flinched hard, making his body rimrod straight. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned around. The ghosts surrounded his body at a respectable distance, panting. They crouched low and had a manic gleam in their eye, as if staring at a priceless treasure that they''re willing to fight to the death for. However, they still didn''t put him in their eyes; no matter where his astral body moved, they never even turned around to look. It''s out of my hands. He found a spot next to his body, and sat down. He began to meditate in the presence of the ghosts; it was his way of fighting his fear of them. That oddity in the air gleefully presented itself to Johan, causing his mouth to quirk up. This is at least one thing I can look forward to while I wait for the end... He sat for countless hours focusing on that oddity, understanding it''s quality, letting it flow inside of him, and letting a little of it blow out with each breath. He quickly lost track of time. Johan spent several days in deep meditation, gaining insight on the essence he sensed. It made him feel whole again; he wasn''t disturbed by the hunger and pain that plagued his physical body. He felt his connection to his body growing dreadfully weaker. Being in this meditative state slowed his bodily functions, helping to maintain his life, but that could only work for so long. His astral body felt strong and supple now; it was a rich warm red color, glowing healthily. It illuminated the faces of the ghosts around him, revealing their ghastly looks of rage and determination. They were in a frenzy now. There were around 20 of them, each a different size and color, staring at his body ravenously. They got dangerously close to his body, whispering insanity into his ear. "Let go, child..." "You''re not needed in this world, give in to us..." Johan shuddered. He lost all hope of living. He walked over to the founders grave to sate his curiosity before the end. Over the grave, a middle aged man sat cross legged, watching the approaching Johan with amusement. His body shined a bright sky blue. His hands rested in his lap and a smirk on his lips. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. "Back again, eh?" the man said. "Yeah. I was beaten bloody and left to starve in the forest." he chuckled. He walked over and sat in front of the man, cross legged. "You''re taking that awfully well, aren''t you?" "Well, there''s nothing I can do about it now. The monsters are surrounding my body." "Monsters?" the man titled his head in curiosity. "Yeah, those humanoid ghost things." Johan shuddered. "Ahh, those are world walkers just like you and me." "World walkers," Johan said, trying the word on his lips. "What is a world walker?" The old man gave him a hard look for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not Johan was joking. Johan flinched under the intense scrutiny. "World walkers are those who walk the world in their soul form. Not sure how a person can become a world walker without even knowing what it is." "Eh, calm down man. I just knew it by a different name is all," he said, trying to avoid the topic. "But why do they seem mindless and... evil?" The man paused for a moment, looking down at his hands with furrowed brows. He considered his next words carefully. "Have you heard the saying, ''No saint dies in his sleep?''" "Saint? Like a nun or something?" The man stared at him with a frown. "No. Those with red, orange, or yellow Glorys are called mages. Those with green or blue Glorys are called Saints. Those with indigo or violet Glorys are called Gods." A piercing wail cut through the forest, sending wildlife scattering in all directions. It was a guttural, inhumane howl that no human would be able to replicate. Johan flinched. He felt his physical body being moved. There''s nothing I can do about it. I don''t wanna see what happens anyway. "Oh. Well, I haven''t heard of it. But how is this relevant?" he said, keeping strong eye contact and ignoring the commotion just now. "A saint''s death is often brutal and tragic. As practitioners of the art, we''ll often be used for war, assassination, murder, kidnappings, and more. It warps us, makes us something darker. "Odd things can happen to a saint at death. A saint''s soul can be strong enough to survive without a body for a time. However, the longer they go without an anchor, the weaker their souls become." "What''s an anchor," Johan cut in, leaning forward intrigued by the information. "Something that ties you to the world. Your soul is normally anchored to your physical body. But upon it''s death, that anchor is lost. If one is not practiced in the Mysteries of the Soul, they won''t have the knowledge to create a new anchor. "As time passes and their soul weakens, they begin to lose themselves and what they stood for. All they are left with are the strong feelings they felt before their death. And how many saints die a happy man? The intense feelings that are left after decades, or centuries even, of wandering the world are feelings of rage, hatred, lust, and regret." "Does this happen to every saint?" "No. Some saints die happy, some die content, some without even knowing what hit them. Those who die slowly enough to think about the rage, regret, and jealousy in their heart have a high chance of becoming a world walker after death." Johan thought about this in silence for a moment. "What other odd things can happen at one''s death?" The man paused again, staring deep into Johan''s eyes as if looking for something. "What do you know about dungeons?" "Uhh," Johan scratched his head. "Nothing?" "Then... I have nothing more to tell you." Johan shrugged. "So tell me your story, bud. Looks like I''ll be free for the next couple of centuries anyway." "I died a long time ago, it''s nothing remarkable. People saw me as a potential threat and decided to get rid of me before it was too late." he said calmly, clenching his fist. "That''s life for you, man. People would rather destroy others instead of better themselves." "You say somethings beyond your age," the man laughed. "I guess. I''m Johan Diedrich. And you are?" he asked, offering his hand. "I''m Jed. Pleased to meet you." he said, gripping the hand. Johan frowned. "Jed..." Suddenly, Johan''s astral body was yanked towards the village. Jed just watched him with faint curiosity. He streaked through the sky like a red comet and was sucked into his limp body. He woke in bed with a start. The feeling of pain and hunger slammed into him, causing him to scream soundlessly and grip the sheets with all of the strength he could muster. Then a figure by his side waved a hand and a warm energy coursed through his body, easing his pain. He relaxed back into the bed and looked at his surroundings. Adamaris and Baldwin stood at his side, faces contorted in worry. "Mom, Dad..." Johan rasped. They sighed with relief in unison. Then Adamaris'' body went still; a hard look settling in her eyes. Johan shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the cold. "How long was I missing?" he asked. "You were gone for 7 days," she said, her voice choking. "We asked all around for you, but no one knew where you were. We asked to form a search party, but no one wanted to spend time looking for someone with a red Glory," she said, her face turning red with rage. She paused and took a breath. "Mom..." "We looked all over, and found you by chance. You were so quiet and thin that we hardly even recognized you," her eyes started to moisten. "Was it Kieran?" she asked with a shaky voice, tears tumbling down her slender cheeks. Johan nodded weakly. "Jojo comes first, Adie... lets get him cleaned up and nurse him back to health," he said calmly. "After that, we''ll go have a nice chat with Arsen."
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Book 1: Chapter 5 - A Mothers Wrath Author''s Corner: Man, dialogue and magical fight scenes are tough. This one gave me a good workout. I actually finished this chapter earlier, but accidentally erased and saved it. Took me hours to rewrite -_-. Hope you enjoy. -------------- Two days have passed since Johan returned home. He rested in bed, drinking water sparingly and eating fish and bread to recover his strength little by little. Chewing pained him due to the fresh cuts and bruises in his mouth, but he savored every single bite; going without food is a great way to remind yourself to be thankful for the little things in life. He diligently meditated in his astral form at night time, taking every chance he can to strengthen his soul and deepen his insight. It could be said that he had an intimate relationship with mana now; his understanding of it was more than superficial. He was by no means a master, but at least he now knew of a way to work towards his goal of becoming a mage. Baldwin sat on a stool by the side of Johan''s bed, sharpening his dagger with rapt attention. Seeing how focused he was, Johan hesitated to interrupt his dad but the mood was a little too awkward for his taste. Ever since he came back, the house was quiet and tense; his mother laughed less, and his father seemed to constantly brood over something. Even the flies dared not make a sound. "Uh, hey dad. Who started this village?" Johan asked. He flinched out of his brooding, forgetting that someone else was in the room. "A saint named Jed. He was known by some as the Earth Shatterer, by others as the Wind Walker. This village is fairly young, actually. It was founded about 150 years ago." "What happened to him?" "That... I don''t know. Jed wasn''t very active in the village; he was always running to and fro, taking advantage of every opportunity to acquire treasures or go on an adventure," Jed said with a shrug. "Or at least that''s the rumor. He died during one of his adventures. The King''s servants found the body and escorted it back to the village, and the villagers buried it at Founder''s Rest." "Was he strong?" "The stories speak of him splitting a city in two and tearing through the skies like a mad God. They say that he was close to Ascension. Is any of that true? Who knows." He''s a skeptical guy at heart. I like that. "Do you think his ghost watches over us?" "Maybe so, Jojo," he laughed. "I personally don''t believe ghosts exist, though." By the next day, Johan was mobile again. He was doing morning exercises with his father in the yard, exerting his muscles with reckless abandon. His muscles were weaker and succumbed to fatigue fairly quickly, but he loved it. He loved the freedom he had. The feeling of being tied to that tree and the bark chewing deep into his flesh was still fresh in his mind. He shuddered. Johan was doing his push-ups under the guidance of his father when he spied his mother approaching. She walked into the yard with a heavy sigh, her arms crossed. "He''s gone," she said sharply. "Kieran?" Baldwin asked. "Yeah. He left for Pyram days ago." Baldwin grimaced, "Alright then. I guess we''ll take it up with Arsen." My problem was only with Kieran though... Johan and his parents marched towards Arsen''s house. Baldwin hadn''t bothered putting a shirt on, proudly displaying the pink scars along his torso like hard earned trophies. For such a large person, his steps were quiet and practiced; his feet hardly left an imprint in the dirt. Adamaris stomped ahead, leading the group. She wore a loose fitting adventurers outfit: a sleeveless shirt; long, fitted pants; knee high boots; and a leather belt that had numerous daggers attached to it. She stared ahead, lips pursed and brow furrowed. The fingers of her right hand drummed along the hilt of one of her daggers.I have a bad feeling about this... Johan followed behind them meekly. "Uh, mom, we''re just going to talk to him, right?" he asked. Adamaris, without turning around, said, "I''ll talk to him." The sun was beaming in the east as the group walked down the winding path toward Arsen''s house. Vibrant green brush lined his house. The faint smell of roses wafted through the air. A helper was in the yard hanging wet laundry until he noticed Johan''s group approaching. He immediately stopped what he was doing and stared at them with deep suspicion. When the group got close enough, he gathered the remaining clothes and entered the house with a flourish. Adamaris walked up to the front door and banged three times. Arsen came after a moment, yanking open the door with unnecessary force. He stood there, arms crossed and brow furrowed. He stared at the group, his eyes settling on Johan. "You don''t need to knock so fucking loudly," he snarled. "Do you know what your son did?" she asked. "Yes," he spat. "He awakened his golden Glory and is now on his way to Pyram to attend their School of Excellence. What business is it of yours?" "You know that our children have had problems with each other..." "Yeah, that Red Fucking Peasant over there attacked my kid in broad daylight! It took everything in me not to beat him senseless!" he roared. The surrounding villagers heard Arsen''s shout and started to gather. They formed a loose circle around the front of his house and shamelessly began gossiping right in front of him. He clenched his teeth and slammed his fist into the door frame, sending chunks of wood and splinters spraying everywhere. The crowd gasped and immediately went silent. Adamaris sighed. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Don''t make it sound like it''s Johan''s fault. We all know that you treat your kid like shit. In return, he treats everyone around him like shit. Like father, like son." "You..." he sputtered. "Your son¡ª" "You fucking bitch!" "¡ªand his minions attacked my son. They left him in the woods for 7 days," she said through clenched teeth. "7 days of no food or water. What would have happened if we never found him? This isn''t a joke." "The world would be short one useless fucking Red Peasant!" "Say that again." Adamaris leapt back, putting some distance between her and Arsen. She loosened her posture; bending her knees, letting her arms relax at her side, hands open and ready to grab a dagger. Here we go... "Your son is a Useless! Red! Fucking! Peasant!" he said, carefully pronouncing each word as if he were speaking to a slow child. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Adamaris took a deep breath. All of the agitation and anxiety melted from her face. With a flick of her wrist, a dagger was sent flying towards Arsen''s head. He flinched hard, raising his arm in a panic. He began to use mana to strengthen his body but it was too late. The dagger bit deep into his flesh, blood spewing out. He grimaced and wrenched the blade from his forearm, teeth gnashing from the pain. Giving him no time to regroup, she threw a wall of wind at him. The wall barreled into him, sending him reeling backwards into his house. She darted at him, dagger in hand, repeatedly jabbing. He hastily batted the jabs away with his palm, now strengthened by the mana. He kicked at her shin but she was too fast, she danced backwards then lunged at him, thrusting the dagger at his eye. He slipped to the side and rammed his fist into her face. Her head rocked back, hair flying out of her bun. She was sent sprawling out of the doorway, blood spraying on the ground. "You stupid cunt!" he snarled, stomping back out of the house. This... this is amazing. Johan was standing stiff and wide eyed. He had never seen anyone move so fast before. This was his first time seeing a fight involving mana, and he was instantly captivated. His father stood beside him, a calm expression on his face. Adamaris stood slowly; blood ran streamed from her nose, painting her teeth a light shade pink. Arsen took a deep breath tensed his whole body; his veins streaked across his arms, bulging from the tension. Sweat formed at his brow and his face turned a deep shade of red. With a shout, he thrust his hand forward and sent a large scarlet fireball streaking towards her. She raised her hands in a fighting posture and rapidly punched the air. Each punch sent powerful bursts of wind howling toward Arsen. They tore through his fireball, scattering it with ease, and threatened to pummel his body. His face contorted with rage, and he raised his arms to cover his face. The sound of bones breaking rang through everyone''s ear. Arsen let out a guttural scream and was launched back into the house, crashing through a table. His left arm was torn out of it''s socket, bruises running along the arm. His right arm was broken in several places, his forearm twisting in an unnatural direction. He writhed in pain, clenching his teeth. The helper watched from the corner, horrified. Adamaris stepped through the doorway, picking up one of her bloody daggers from the floor. Johan, Baldwin and the other onlookers quickly followed, peering in through the doorway. "Apologize to Johan," she demanded. "Fuck you," he forced out through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and roared at her, spraying flames from his mouth. She didn''t even flinch; she pursed her lips and blew smoothly, a strong gust of wind scattering the flame around her. The surroundings began to burn, creating a thick smoke in the house. "You can either apologize or die. Your choice," she said. "Jasper! Deliver the package!" he screamed towards his helper. Jasper scurried to a back room and grabbed a wide ornate container. He clutched it to his chest and began to leave when a glance from Adamaris stopped him dead in his tracks. He paled and began to shudder. Arsen clenched his teeth, "Please..." She snapped her head to him, mouth ajar. Jasper took advantage of that moment to scurry out of the house, squeezing by all of the onlookers at the door. Arsen inched to the wall like a worm, both of his arms useless, leaving streaks of blood on the wooden floor. A book fell by his side, the cover a drawing of a snake devouring itself. Flames crawled out and burnt it to a crisp. He sat up and leaned his back against the wall, wheezing. The sight made Johan sick; he turned around and dry heaved. The onlookers crowding outside of the door frantically dodged. This is too much! "What will it be?" Adamaris asked. "Mom, thats enough¡ª" Johan began. "Go fuck yourself, bitch" Arsen coughed out, blood spraying with every word. "You were so polite just a second ago..." she sighed. With a twirl of her hand a dagger was sent flying into Arsen''s throat. It ran deep into his flesh, buried to the hilt. The sound of him choking on his own blood lasted for what felt like an eternity, before he went slack and died. The look of rage never left his face even after death. Adamaris retrieved all of her fallen daggers, putting them back in their sheaths. She left the burning house, with all of the onlookers frantically making way for her. "She''s so powerful..." one onlooker breathed. Adamaris approached Johan and Baldwin and gestured for them to follow her. They walked towards their house, leaving the onlookers to gaze at their backs in fear and awe. Johan followed behind his parents dragging his feet. His eyes were vacant and his face bloodless. The sounds of Arsen choking on blood reverberated clearly though his head, making him shudder. He threw his hand to his mouth and began to heave. "The first time is always hard to watch, Johan. Don''t worry, it''ll get easier." Adamaris said. Baldwin shook his head in agreement. "Why did he have to die?" Johan asked, wiping the spit from his mouth. Adamaris tilted her head and stared into Johan''s eyes, "Why? He disrespected our family and his son nearly killed you." "So you kill him!?" he said, louder than he intended. "Johan, what else should I do with people that threaten the people I love? Your father and I searched 7 days for you, only to find you beaten and tied to a tree in the forest!" she said sharply. Johan flinched and went silent. "I won''t apologize for protecting those I love. I mean, did he sound remorseful to you?" He kept walking in silence, his body shaking. "Sparing your enemies will only bring you pain, Johan. In a perfect world, maybe everyone could be nice and forgiving. But this world isn''t perfect." Baldwin said. Johan stayed silent and kept walking. The fight kept replaying itself in his mind against his will. He didn''t particularly like Arsen, but he didn''t want him to die. This... this was just murder...
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Announcement I was pantsing this novel, and I''ve come to understand the troubles that came along with it, lol. I''ve decided to take a step back. I''m going to rewrite this novel, which may take some time. I''m working on a side project called The Bloody Titan, if you want to read something else from me in the mean time. Sorry for the inconvenience.