《Fate's Choice (ABANDONED)》 Prologue of a Life I''m the author! Just a heads up, this is a re:vamped version from some other website I was using. Leave comments! and be gentle... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My life, I have always known it to be hot and dry. The weather couldn''t stop hugging me in a dry blanket. The sand slipped into my sandal, and swam through the cracks in my dry feet. My clothes feel the slight refreshing breeze, my cloth wrapping lifting up due to the sudden change. It hugs my waist nicely, and doesn¡¯t fall to reveal my necessities. Every step I took though pulled enough strength from me to raise ten mountains, figuratively. It''s the thought that counts. Although the same could be said about the chains upon my feet, as they drag upon the ground. Everyone else in the chain gang goes through the same experience as I, except that the time I have here is more than theirs. It is obvious with my hardened feet, the blisters no longer bother them. Yet no one ever looks there. I am different. I know that when I have the chance to look at myself, which only comes at night with the moon high in the sky. Different as in my body had a red-brown tan, not a regular brown tan like those that trudged behind me. Different as in my eyes, my hair, they are both red. As dark as red can be. The lightest portion on me is the soles of my feet, due to them being blister red. My comrades behind me are all lightly browned, with a few patches of red here and there. The only white patches seen would be under the metal cuffs on our feet. The groans behind me begin, the symphony of voices most likely torture and salvation to some. This happens all the time on our treks back, especially for the new slaves just taken in. I don''t dare turn around to comfort them, since I am leading this journey back to the compound. The only reason as to why I lead, is because the other older slaves died from their sincerity. I never show kindness. It''s an excuse to become some slaver''s plaything. I have seen it happen many times over this life of mine. I cannot become what the slavers call girlish, not even in the slightest. After the groans stop, the screams begin. The slavers are sadistic even at this time, torturing the new ones with whips they make from hide. As to what hide is used for the whips, you will often feel a human fingernail or tooth dig into your skin, courtesy of the dead seniors. The screaming doesn''t last long, and the sound of a falling body is heard and the chains straining with the extra weight that must be pulled¡­ I take a quick glance towards the sound, to see a slaver dragging a new slave by the foot. My weight off my back, and I turn back around quickly to avoid any attempts to whip me. Looks like that guy will be gone tomorrow, in a way. I offer a prayer to the god that takes care of our souls, as I know the new slave will be tortured tonight. I can¡¯t be bothered with naming these so called gods, as they have never given me hope, neither physically nor mentally. I have not yet had the... pleasure, of such an act being brought upon me, which I believe myself to happy about. But that feeling flees with the air that escapes my lungs. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Only a few slaves learn that the slavers don''t like necrophilia, so basically only the older ones know. I know it as well, due to listening to slaver conversations. I like to learn, though the topics are often disturbing enough to rattle my brain. I have practiced in my sleep to make myself go limp, essentially acting dead. I have scared quite a few comrades by seemingly going into a state of near death. The well that comes into view near the compound is where we get to refresh our dry throats. Only to have them aching from the sand that sometimes makes its way into it. It is sometimes used as a place of confinement, as I have been trapped plenty of times in there due to a slaver¡¯s sense of humor. I will never understand why it is so funny, to make one laugh like that. Slaves take turns cranking the pail up and down the well. Some get whipped. I make certain that I don''t by using my full force on the crank, bringing up water as fast as I could. I take a glance to see the slavers grimacing, probably because they can''t whip someone who does it fast. After that short break, it is back to the menial tasks of building. Slavers are lazy, and do not protect the slaves from the dangers of the desert. Lizards with glaring eyes often snatch a kid or two, due to their size being just right. Luckily I am tall enough not to be taken by those monsters. Night approaches rapidly to those that work hard. We are all gathered into our prison, our sanctuary from all the evil slavery is. I sit in my comfy little haystack, with some comrades already talking amongst themselves or sleeping. I lay down, and go over all the things I have learned since being a child here. Through my attempts at communication, I have learned many things of the outside world. I have learned of magic from some slaves who tried to break out once, and I never saw them again until much later. Whenever I try this magic, it always fails. Apparently, the outside world is teaming with life, and on day I wish to see such things. Swords, magic, and the kings themselves, I gather the intelligence I need for such a day from my comrades in chains. But I do not know when such a day will come. I look up and out of my bed from the underground prison. My life of luxury consisting only of hopes and dreams, my life doesn¡¯t feel like a tale from those I have talked to. My only window of freedom is looking at the moon itself. It¡¯s bright light shines on me, the cold air slides across me. The desert sings, and I listen to its song. Something is calling for me, I can feel it.
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Chapter 1 to Start, Three to Rebel One by one the ¡®chain gang¡¯ begins the daily tasks assigned to us all. My feet scratch against the burning earth while I carry a block of that earth in my hands. A brick made from the fine sand of this desert¡­ Oh joy. The duties so kindly assigned to us slaves are often construction jobs. For these tasks, I was often throwing dead bodies that have either been ¡®overused¡¯ or died from thirst or hunger into a huge pit. The huge pit that has seemingly come from nowhere is in fact a place that was recently dug by the chain gang. As of now, I am currently layering bricks over the top of this pit to hide the bodies. The reason for being given this job is due to my seniority in the ¡®chain gang¡¯. Safer jobs are equal to status in this group of mine. I continue my walk across the compound, slavers often making jeers at my unnatural coloring for a human being. I often make comparisons between the slavers and me, the color of my skin being the only obvious difference. Thinking on such topics usually leads nowhere, as I often discovered when I end up slamming into buildings or slavers. I snap out of my reverie and focus on my destination. I don¡¯t want to be added to the pile. A boy younger than I by a few years, give or take a couple, is sitting on the ground with bricks stacked up around him. He currently has a brick in his hand, and is molding it with earth magic he has learned outside the compound, when he was still free. Tears flow down his face only to evaporate when they fall. The heat is something I handled with time, despite other slaves having trouble even after a few years. He is not the youngest in the compound though, despite his natural youthful face and blond hair that hung by the side of his face, uncut and unkempt. His nose is not pointed in the slightest, and is ¡®girlish¡¯, according to slavers who jeer at him. If I had to consider anyone in the compound as a comrade, this would be the guy. I don¡¯t often lump him with our group, as for some bizarre reason, he is never trekking the desert with my group. Since no slaves have names, I go by the most descriptive thing I can think of when coming to him. I place my foot in front of his brick fort, and he looks up. His clear blue eyes reflect my red visage, with my (attempted) grin. ¡°Blondie, I¡¯m looking forward to tonight.¡± He looks slightly disturbed at my statement, as if it is meant to mean something else. His face grows even redder, most likely due to the sun. I tilt my head to the side, as the lingo I just used was for a gathering of slaves. To put it into better terms, a council. We may be slaves, but most of us here were not before. ¡°Y-yeah.¡± He nods and resumes his magicking. The sand neatly folding in upon itself, being manipulated into a brick shape tinted with red by the sand. I bend down with my knees and pick up a brick from his fort, and I turn around and begin my short walk to the half-finished wall. I best finish before slavers decide to descend like carrion birds. ------------- Night came along at a lizard¡¯s pace, or as the saying goes. The night life is something to be feared, and all the slavers begin to crack their whips to signal the round up for the night. I place the last brick down in a hurry, just about knocking over my almost-finished wall. I know there will be repercussions, but sometimes the impossible is really impossible to accomplish within a certain amount of time. I don¡¯t want to be left behind, so I hurriedly begin a light jog to the enclosed group. Seeming as if I am walking, I slide right between a cracking whip and a young slave, taking the whip lash in his place. ¡°Huh? Move aside slave, unless you want another. There is no point to playing hero here. Gwahaha!¡± The slavers laugh seems to echo in my ear as I correct my mistake. I move away from the back of the young boy as the cracking sound of the whip can be heard. I journey to the center of the group, the laughter of the slavers still echoing in my ear. The scream of the stricken boy still fresh in my mind. The slaves around me huddle like sheep, and like sheep we are prodded into our little abode. My height is above everyone else¡¯s, and I begin to maneuver my way through the herd of sweaty bodies. Step by step, the crowd begins to lessen, and I begin to steer my path towards a corner with a higher stack of hay than anywhere else in the room. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. I stand in front of the unusual pile of hay, and look over my shoulders to see if any slavers have come down to inspect or prospect. The coast remains clear, and I turn my attention back to the haystack. ¡°One two, I¡¯m coming in.¡± ¡°Three Four the doors are closed.¡± The reply I received is the passcode use group of slaves came up with. Although I have to wonder as to why anyone had to answer back for the catchphrase. It isn¡¯t like anyone would purposely become a slave. I reach into the haystack with my hand, and then I am in a deep dark place. Mostly because I was just yanked in like I was attacked, and because our hideout is there. If someone wondered as to how there could possibly be a hideout in a big pile of hay, the question would be where it would be. This place was formed unnaturally by the slave specialist of earth magic, Blondie. From the simple appearance of a haystack, a huge hole under it can and is hidden from sight. The hideout is nothing special to note though, it reminds me of a rabbits den, except we have light pouring in from very miniscule holes above us. In the hideout is a few seats/mounds made from earth that allows everyone important to gather. This room is an absolute secret though, and the cost of it is to have two others join in on my secret. Blondie and another kid I call Blanco, because his appearance is rather lacking. He almost doesn¡¯t stand out, but he is just about as old as I am. His hair is black, and his eyes never reflect light, despite them being a vibrant green. He is skinny to the point of showing bones, and by his personality he likes to make a point of showing them off. What a guy. The duo of secrets look at me as I land in the middle of our den, the hideout. I give them a look and get off my butt, brushing the sandy dirt and dry hay. The smell of hay lingers on my arms and I screw my nose at the smell. I wonder as to how many bodies slept in that pile? No matter, it will not matter in the future. I walk over to the duo, their green and blue eyes following my every movement. I brush the seat out of habit and sit my rump down. Uncomfortable, as always. I look at Blondie, then at Blanco. They continue to stare, waiting for the reason as to why I called them for a meeting. I smile, not trying to let a wicked smile screw up the trust between us. ¡°You are probably wondering as to why I asked for a meeting?¡± Silence is their answer. I cough in a raised hand, and I keep up my smile. Play it cool. ¡°Let this be the last meeting we have down here.¡± Their eyebrows rise at my statement, and their faces begin to look stern, as still as stone. ¡°It¡¯s time for our revolt to come. Tomorrow is the day the new slaves are brought in. Tomorrow¡± I look at the two directly in their eyes. ¡°We will roll the dice of fate.¡± ______________________________________________________ This is the author. I tried to make the chapter satisfactory in my eyes, as the original plan was a load of bull. No more OP, this guy is working his way up, albeit an odd route. It feels short, but the next chapter should be done next week. I have the game plan, no worries haha... Tell me if I should make the paragraphs shorter to make it easier to read. I don''t know if big blocky text is the way to go...
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Chapter 2 Much Planning The next day the rain that blessed the desert made itself known to all the groups in the compound. The slavers wore ugly looks on their faces as the rain sexually harassed their fun time of guarding. Although the guarding confused me on our day of reckoning. In the first place, the guards never guarded properly, and slapped the butts of many a slave, not including those with good agility. Something is definitely going on outside of the predictions I made. I walk over to Blondie¡¯s place, who is sitting in the hideout, as he cannot use his magic as efficiently as he should be able to when in the rain. I crouch low next to the haystack, and whisper into the dark hole. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Why are the slavers behaving oddly?¡± My question goes unanswered, and I can only shrug my shoulders as I stand up. We cannot proceed with the revolt if our main trickster is not available for his sleight of hand. I shake my head, and place my hand on the back of my neck, rubbing a nonexistent ache. I roll my shoulders and begin to walk to the entrance of our slave quarters. I step outside slightly and poke one of the slaver guards to grab their attention. The slaver jumps and gives me a look that could kill me, if he wasn¡¯t stuck in a proper guard duty. ¡°What¡¯s going on, sir?¡± It is best to be polite to those who hold onto murderous tools. My question is returned with a glare from the slaver once again. I return a look of imploring desire, which is the puppy eyes of doom. Not hard to do, but it is wasted with my looks. I sigh and begin to turn around. ¡°The Priestess of the Church is coming, slave. It¡¯s best to show a good image to the highest order in the land.¡± In a voice most unbefitting of a slaver, he whispers that to me. My jaw opens slightly and I quicken my stride to the inside of the slave quarters, bringing myself closer to the haystack in the corner. I reach the haystack with no trouble, and jump inside the haystack, leaving behind the quarters for the hideout. I land with a thump as my butt hits solid ground. I wince in pain, and I jump off the ground to the seat in the middle of the room. Blondie is looking at me from a seat near my left, and a question floats out from his mouth. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°¡­¡± My silence is the answer, mostly because I haven¡¯t even thought of the plan. I fold my arms, my fingers tapping against my upper arm. Blondie continues to look at me, his eyes imploring me for an answer. But what is the answer? I ask this question to myself for a while, long enough for some rain to seep through the holes in the roof above us. The water trickles through, and a single drop of water pats itself on the top of my head. The idea hit me. Not literally, but I do have a plan. With the Priestess coming, it will guarantee success. ¡°Blondie, we will be free men in two days time.¡± Blondie looks at me rather confusingly, as the plan has not been told as of yet. But the plan in my mind is rather simple, for it is only a snatch and run operation. The Priestess will become our hostage¡­ err, companion. This is our chance for life outside the compound. ---------- ¡°Attention!¡± The loud shout reverberates across the compound. I have my head and eyes facing down, as well as the other slaves. Despite what some people may believe, the religion ranked strongly in this group of people. Although for them, this will be their gap in security. I give a sideways glance towards Blondie and Blanco, both on either side of me. They acknowledge my eyes with their own. Good, now it is time to wait. The slavers stand on either side of the main buildings for the main area. In the center of this area lies a huge gate, with a massive amount of water circling inside of its boundaries. I hear whispers of ¡®Stearate¡¯ and ¡®MTC¡¯, whatever these are referring to, must be that huge mechanism in the center. The area is extremely quiet despite the small talk. Yet a hum echoes throughout the compound, showing that the mechanism is full of energy. I wait, as like all the other slaves do, to meet this person of high authority. Then an explosive sound comes from the center of the compound, making my head lift like everyone else¡¯s heads. Lights begin to shoot off inside the water vortex, the ¡®Stearate¡¯ beginning to hum with an increased speed. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. A shadow walks out from the lights, accompanied by a mass of shadows following it. The shadow becomes bigger and bigger, until it¡¯s the size of a regular person. The water begins to stretch out with the same pace as the shadow, much like skin stretches. Then it snaps back just as suddenly as it stretched, and a man with an overly huge chest appears with clothing that isn¡¯t normal for a man to wear. ¡°Woman, it¡¯s the Priestess¡­¡± ¡°Hehe.. a woman.¡± ¡°I want to be hit by that.¡± Hearing these responses, I look at the Priestess¡­ who is a woman. What¡¯s a woman? I continue to look at the Priestess and I hear a slight sigh escape from my right. I glance at Blondie to see him patting his own chest. Does he want to become a thing called a woman? It looks like those huge muscles would definitely get in the way¡­ The woman stops herself from walking off from the portal, and is instead shouting out to the slavers. ¡°You vermin! Help me block this MTC! God¡¯s enemies are behind me, walking into this very area!" With a loud voice, all the slavers stop their muttering. I continue to stay put, until one of the slavers grabs us by the chains and drags us over, into the front of the MTC. Yet I do not move away from that very spot. The distance is only a few feet, but I cannot escape at all. I feel fear once again in my life, and I cannot move. It irks me, for fear has been my friend for many years. Moving bodies are the only things I hear, except for the ring of drawn steel. The shadows dance in front of my eyes, my fear beginning to crawl through my body. I glance at Blondie, even though the fear overrides that urge. I see him panting in fear too, Blanco¡¯s hoarse breathing beginning to catch in my ear too. I see¡­ I am not the only one to have fear. Everyone next to me is experiencing this. This calms me down a little, to know that the chain gang is always going to be like this. Then the plan for escaping crosses to the front of my mind. I know what I have to do, in order for the three of us to survive. Although my previous escape plan has turned out to be busted by a very muscular woman, who probably wouldn''t leave without a fight, much less being a hostage. Another idea seems to worm through my head, and much like fire it catches on. Yes... It could work. But the shadows coming from beyond will be most troublesome. We will escape through this gate, to wherever it will take us. I will destroy it just like the Priestess asked, and escape while it is imploding. This, is my final freedom plan. Yet how are we supposed to destroy a mechanical contraption that wasn''t even here yesterday? Wait, it wasn''t here yesterday? I look around and fine a huge pit recently dug by the chain gang... This could work. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Author here! Decided to change the plot a little, and added a new element to it. And if you see MTC, think of it as a Mass Transportation Contraption. I was originally going to put world traveling Stargate, but I wanted my idea to be it. Give a comment on what could be improved in this chapter!
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Chapter 3, Two, One, Timber! I stood still before the Stearate, the water in it swirling before my face. The shadows move not with the current, and are increasing centimeter by centimeter, their darkness forever deepening. I forcefully turn my head to Blondie, my eyes not even looking away from the encroaching darkness. ¡°Blondie, I want you to do something for me.¡± Even though I cannot see his face, I know almost instinctually that he wouldn¡¯t deny my request. ¡°I want you to create two pillars of rock hard sand, just like the bricks. But more than just double, keep on doubling the height until it stands taller than the Stearate.¡± ¡°Hmhm. I¡¯ll try to Head.¡± Blondie responds to my words, but his muscles do not move in the slightest. I hear no movement coming from behind me, which causes some tickling of concern in my mind. Shouldn¡¯t destroying the Stearate make noise? I tear my eyes away, despite the foreboding feeling that occurs when I do so, to find that every slaver and slave besides the front row have been¡­ Knocked out. Beaten to a pulp, and have become disemboweled. The sight almost causes me to spit up bile, but the fear from before overrides the feeling. The stench is much worse though, as if the sight before me has been sitting for a few days. Unusual, but my mind doesn¡¯t dwell on it as the clash of weapons can be heard from just beyond the area of death. I turn towards Blondie and nudge him slightly, breaking him out of his fear. I turn towards Blanco to find him¡­ near death. He was on the ground right next to me, his blood pooling underneath him. Being a slave all of my life, I can only look at him indifferently. Even though he has been there for me for a long while¡­ I crouch down, and the atmosphere around me seems to almost block out the fear. Almost. ¡°Blanco¡­¡± ¡°Huek! Head, do not worry about me! Do what must be done!¡± The lines said made my face blush slightly, and the atmosphere could almost be called pink.. if it weren¡¯t for Blanco¡¯s intestines seeping through his fingers. He will not be able to live on for much longer is what I can gather from my observation. I turn away, no tears dry themselves on my face. I give Blondie a look, and he breaks out of the shock he just took from Blanco¡¯s appearance. ¡°Brother¡­¡± ¡®Ah, so they were related? That is extremely rare. Wait, I need to stay focused.¡¯ I look away from Blondie to the battle that is occurring. *Clash* *Clang* The sound of metal striking metal reverberates in my ear. The Priestess is using her fists with spiked knuckles to smack away a double-edged long sword. A tall, lithe man that almost resembles a skeleton is throwing his weight behind it, which doesn¡¯t add much by the look of it. Yet his speed is incredible, and the Priestess can only continue just blocking the swords path. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Die, die, die! Kyahaha!¡± The man¡¯s voice is sinister, giving off the same aura including fear that comes from the shadows in the water. The woman¡¯s heavy breathing can be heard as well, her chest muscles sometimes bouncing and adding more weight behind her defensive punches. ¡®Ah, so that¡¯s how you use those overly grown mucles. I can see why Blondie would want them now. But she is an earth mage¡­¡¯ My hand strokes my chin as I watch the fight. The chains on my feet rattle from the air pressure exerted from the fight. I then feel a slight tap on my shoulder. ¡°I¡­ hff¡­ am done¡­¡± Blondie voices out to me from behind, and I turn around and look at him. I smile slightly, and my red hair falls light in front of my eyes. I blow some air to flip it out of my eyes and walk over to two huge pillars of stone. Looks like Blondie outdid himself. ¡°I¡¯ll take over from here.¡± I pat him on the shoulder and begin to look around for some chains that haven¡¯t been destroyed by the terror of the battlefield. Luckily enough, I found a pair of chains too big for my hands to fit properly. I lap the cuffs over my wrists and surround one pillar with it. Then I hold onto it tightly, pulling just a little. That was all it took however, and the pillar furthest from the Stearate begins to fall slowly. ¡°Blondie, now is the time to for us to make way to a new future!¡± I shout this as I turn around to face him. Tears can be seen in his eyes, and he nods slightly. I give a convincing nod and begin to run, clasping onto his hand. It¡¯s time to run. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Author here! Shorter than other chapters, but next chapter is from a different POV, and explanation of the history of this world. Sci-Fi, Fantasy, For The Win!
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History Chapter This is the background and origin of the story.. If you have any questions, don''t be hesitant to ask for an answer. I will answer to the best of my imagination. This is important to read, if you are to understand just a little bit of Fate. :P Have fun reading! Next chapter should be out in 2 days max. I just had to think and outline the origin story right here. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- The history of Xandir, a planet on the edges of a solar system in a galaxy yet to be seen. Despite its placement as the 6th planet, it endures the heat from the blue star, Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh is an odd star, one unlike the other stars that neighbor it. Some might consider it a sentient, others think of it as a dumb rock. But this blue star is in contrary different altogether. It is part of a race of god-like beings that are gradually going extinct in the multiverse. For lack of a better term, the blue giants are stars in all appearance, although they do have something that resembles an ass, where a deeper shade of the star is at. The giant race have intelligence other stars do not have though, and this has allowed them to travel the cosmos like a giant playground, often sending supernovas to each other. The biggest supernova came from Gilgamesh though, and from this energy life began to appear on planets of various sizes and terrain. This is what the scientists from Earth term, The Big Bang. But in reality, this was just Gilgamesh passing gas. Now back to the Gilgamesh¡¯s 6th ring, where the planet Xandir inhabits. Xandir was the closest to the big bang, where the million or so Celsius blast occurred. Yet it survived the impact, and it was granted mystical and magical powers for surviving the blast. The saying, ¡°Whatever hurts me makes me stronger,¡± can be applied in this situation. Now the mystical power allowed life to take place on the planet, where the process of evolution and survival of the fittest took place for a few millennia, and as such these trials of life can be glossed over. This allowed different species of humanoids to take their standings upon the continents. The intelligence that stemmed from each of these humanoid races all began to diminish, until the smartest of each faction decided to go into hiding either in forests, volcanoes, oceans, or in plains. A harem-like situation occurred for all these hermit humanoids, and through the process of isolation they began to show more signs of life, more signs of a higher intelligence. This was the evolution of the species itself. Different plains made the evolution for each humanoid race different. The ones that came from swampy plains became known as the Skeleton race, where the skin was bleached white, and the bones could be seen by others. They were adept at using the mystical force of the world, where life and death was governed. Their combat prowess allowed them to survive despite their weakened physical attributes. The typical grassy plains carved out the typical human race, where the skin tone matched which part of the hemisphere they resided in. The race of humans scattered and developed in those aspects. The magical and mystical prowess of this race was versatile and a variable. In some cases, the mystical prowess of some tribes of humans began to even affect their own bodies, allowing them to take on a shape of a monstrosity from the times when their ancestors walked the ground. The elves were the inhabitants of the forests, where their magical prowess is the strongest out of all the races inhabiting Xandir. Their long, knife-ears were their distinctive characteristic. Not much else is needed to explain these forest dwellers, for they were typically tall and lithe, an extremely agile race. Their physical abilities were only limited until they reached a certain age. The volcanoes provided a different path for the humanoid species. Separating them into mountains and volcanoes, the mountains were inhabited by beings with a short, squashed appearance. They had enormous strength, and had a craftsmanship unknown to most races. They were known as the fire-starters for the Age of Technology, and known as dwarves. They magical and mystical attributes were the lowest in exchange for their big brains and creative thinking. Odd though, was that even at birth the babies were often seen with an already fully grown beard¡­ The volcanoes were home to the dragonewts. A race of humanoids that could shape shift into the very beings they worshipped, the dragons. This racial trait was rare though, and those that had it were considered gods. They often had patches of scales, and nails shaped like talons, sharp and just hard enough to claw through rock. They also held massive strength, and could be placed second in strength of the races. Their intelligence was rather low, and they often placed high value on shiny objects. Hence why they live by volcanoes, and developed scales to resist the heat. Stolen story; please report. The oceans teemed with life, and the merpeople were the result of humanoids living in the ocean. In order to survive in such an environment and to live on the coast, they developed gills on the sides of their necks. Unlike the dragonewts, their physical strength was the 3rd ranked, close to humans and elves. Their ability to shape shift only applied to their legs, and their upper bodies often stayed similar to a humans. Their ability to survive was second to only to humans, and they developed technology comparable to the dwarves. Yet this led to them losing the ability to speak, and telepathy became their main method for ¡®speaking¡¯. Once these races began their different paths, peace was only a moment away from being broken. Humans became greedy, unknown to all except Gilgamesh, for he understood that at the same time he let out a ¡®Big Bang¡¯, another star let off one as well. This was a red star, its name even forgotten to time, but its nature naturally conflicted with Gilgamesh¡¯s nature. In the elves, pride beyond belief, for they thought that they were natural rulers of nature. The dwarves became obsessed with technology, their knowledge polluting the world. The dragonewt¡¯s rage became known when the greedy beings plundered their shiny objects, their valuables. The merpeople became shut-ins basically, antisocial and withdrawn. The humans began to be greedy, then prideful, and were the most influenced by the negative effects of the red giant. The war that was instigated by the humans led to a natural world war across the continents. Every continent on Xandir became a territory, the most rugged continent occupied by the allied dragonewts and dwarves. The elves and merpeople were an alliance that decided to go to a continent that was furthest away from the others, the ocean being its only companion. The skeletons took a continent half-submerged, the muddy terrain perfect for their way of living. This was connected by a land bridge to the human continent. The humans boasted the most massive population, and naturally took the largest continent. However, with the connections lost to the other races, infighting began to ensue. At least after 300 years passed since the end of the War. The continent feverously began to be taken over by religious zealots, the forests and mountains raided of the magical and mystical. The land bridge had yet to be discovered, but the skeleton race was slowly expanding into the dry lands. The human race was overtaken with a religion called the Yuran. It was a belief that would last even until the last of the human race, but that is a different story. The Kingdom of the Yuran began to overtake small tribes of fellow humans, cruelty already beginning to gain an edge on the mind of the zealots. Slavery was basically a well-known practice after the religion took root. Now this is not to say that only humans were indoctrinated into slavery. Whenever parties of adventuring races came to the human continent, they were welcomed with chains. This began to anger the other races, but this was quickly subdued by the nomad tribes. The nomad tribes are the tribes that were deemed ¡®special¡¯ in a sense. They had the ability to take another form much like dragonewts, but only required mystical energy to do so and could change into any form they wished. Yet this form was limited to only one, for even they knew that it was against nature to do so. This ability allowed the nomad tribes to establish good relations with the other continents, but word began to spread of their ¡®backstabbing¡¯ of the human race. A Crusade was called by the worshippers of the Yuran. And the meeting of the different species led to this Yuran Crusade, which led to a boy named Fate, a treaty of the species, to be chained.
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Priestess vs... Something? Hey! Author here! Sorry for the lateness, but my only excuse is that rl came to soon. But it''s alright now, since I gave you this chapter. I changed my writing style, and I have to say... damn, am I sexy. I mean good. Yup~ -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A woman is being pushed by a beam of light. Her back is arched, and her breasts shake from the unsteady concentration of the beam. Her yell echoes through the area she is in, where nothing can be seen, not even her hands, although she can see her breasts shaking oddly. ¡°DDDAAAAMMMMNNNN YYY-YYOOOOOUUUU DDDDAAAAAMMMMMOOONNN!!!!!!¡± Her bumpy voice echoes in her ears, her eyes always looking ahead to a current of water that swirls similar to that of a whirlpool. The lights flash inside the water, some figures can be seen but not made out. The Stearate was about let her off this bumpy ride, and she was pleased despite her constant yelling. She rapidly approaches the water, and does a spectacular belly flop against it. Oddly enough, the water moves aside for her, and the light peters out behind her, causing her to run through the water. She slows to a walk as daylight begins to strike her face. She thanked her God Yuran for her speedy getaway and proceeds to warn the men and children before her. The children already have the look of death on their faces as soon as she opens her mouth. ¡°You vermin! Help me block this MTC! God¡¯s enemies are behind me, walking into this very area!" Although she doesn¡¯t like to use this rough tone of voice, she must. Although she hears a slaver murmur, ¡°I want to be hit by that,¡± From one of the men in the crowd. She felt as if these men were filthy beyond her belief, but necessary for survival. She turns to the side of the Stearate and walks away from it, to draw distance from herself. In all honesty, she was frightened of what was chasing her. The skeleton man was an extreme adversary in her mind, and she had trouble escaping his sword. The sound of sliced meat falling upon the ground of the desert calls her back from her thoughts, and she sees the skeleton man already out of the water and hacking away at her meat shields. The shock stills her as the man continues to hack away, the sword flashing in the sun. The Priestess readies her fists, the metal knuckle guards already equipped since the beginning of her escape. Her heart beats fast, her adrenaline beginning to produce an effect on her body. Her bosom shakes from her heart thundering, her breath shaking. The amount of bodies piling along the man¡¯s path begins to increase, due to his swift slashes. The wind is pushed by each stroke, a body already added to the death toll. Oddly enough, two young slaves survive, but this thought is pushed from the Priestess¡¯s mind. The skeleton man cuts through the last slaver, bisecting the slaver¡¯s body into two halves. A wicked grin is on his bony face, blood smeared against his lips and nose. He dashes forward, his blade raised into the air, its curved edge reflecting the light into her eyes. This doesn¡¯t stop her as she raises her fist to clash with the sharp sword, the wind turning up the dust around the meeting of the two. The man¡¯s smile unnerves her, despite the elation of the adrenaline rush. Time stands still as the two meet, knuckle against sword. The man¡¯s eyes widen, and he pulls back his blade, bringing it forward once again for the inevitable clash. The fist comes forward once again, and pounds down on the blade, causing it to dig into the sand. She smiles and jumps back a few feet. The man looks at down at his grounded sword, and lifts it back up into a stance with only one opening. The Priestess doesn¡¯t take the bait and continues to keep her guard up, one fist lowered and one raised. The silence is broken as two earthen pillars grow out of the sand, and the clanging of chains starts the signal of the 2nd round. The sound of feet tapping the ground can be heard if one strained their listening holes, but the eyes would not be able to follow such high speed movement. The exchange of blows was similar to that of a dance, and the pair only became easily visible when a finishing blow was used. But this was not enough for the Priestess. Her rough breathing was testimony to her stamina as she swung her fist once more to block the nonchalant blade of the skeleton man. The man smiles once again, this time his teeth pressing against his skin, showing their disturbing outline. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. He jumps back a good few meters and sets his sword into the ground, and not in the sheath that has materialized on his back. He blows air out of his mouth, lifting his long hair out of his eyes. ¡°Jeez~, this is too boring.. I can¡¯t be excited from this level of play.¡± The Priestess frowns at his words and continues to stay in a ready stance. Her breathing shallow but still rough. She spares a glance at the two surviving slaves, or what should have been two. Instead only one slave was at the earthen pillar, and the sound of metal sliding on the ground echoes through the compound. She begins to look up out of curiosity, but the sword of the man slices down mere centimeters from her faces. The shock gets to her, and she stumbles away from the sword¡¯s appearance. ¡°That¡¯s so~ rude! Y¡¯know Priestess. You never,¡± The man lifts his sword, and makes a stance to throw it. ¡°Never! Look away from your opponent!¡± Realizing what the man is doing, she steps forward and punches his shoulder, causing the thrown swords aim to be off. It hits the earthen pillar, causing the support for the massive weight to crumble and tilt it forward. Ironically, the Priestess didn¡¯t realize that the other slave was just behind the pillar and not actually near its top. The Priestess backs away after the single punch, and begins her ¡®finisher¡¯, where she begins to murmur a mantra to herself. The skeleton man does nothing but watch, his shoulder doesn¡¯t even bear a mark from her assault. Curiosity is practically the only thing keeping the Priestess alive, oddly enough. Her mantra finishes, and she leaps forward. Unlike before, the one step she is initiating has her full power behind it, and she uses that to hit the skeleton man in his bony belly. Just a hint of resignation comes from the man, and he is blown backwards be the sheer power of her attack. This causes him to fly into one of the buildings that have now become empty. At the cost of such power, the Priestess shakily steps forward and bends over, puking out what remains of her nourishment. Unsightly, but if the life force was used, she would most likely die from that output. After wiping her mouth, she looks up to see the pillar just about crushing the portal, only a meter or so away from completely hitting it. Panic grips the Priestess, and she once again uses the technique first part to it. Her leg glows slightly, reflecting white light off of the sand despite the weather bearing down on it. She pushes off of the ground, and ends up speeding over to the portal. Only half a meter before it makes contact with the Stearate. When she touches the water, she lets out with a whisper of her wanted destination. The water glows, but not before the the pillar makes contact with the Stearate, causing the water to ripple. The image in the water shifts slightly to the slaves, and a force is exerted on her that draws her into the water. The Stearate sends out a ¡®blip¡¯ sound before collapsing. The skeleton man walks out from the destroyed lodging area, and looks over to the Stearate¡­ or what used to be it. ¡°Oh no~, what will I ever do~.¡± The smirk on his face is full of malicious intent, causing some of the corpses around him to burst like blood bags. The blood itself begins to draw itself around him like a river and a lake, forming a puddle of blood underneath him. From it, the sword he threw grows out of the blood, with the puddle shrinking for ever centimeter. He grabs the hilt and plucks the sword like a dandelion, and caresses it. His eyes open widely, the strain ever apparent on his face. ¡°It¡¯s time to hunt~, sweet one!~¡± The tone of his voice and his face would make one think that he had gone crazy.
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Chapter 4 Freedom? The Stearate had a cool, refreshing feeling as we walked through the water gate. When we had impacted against the water, we automatically closed our eyes. Or at least I did, for Blondie¡¯s mind is beyond my comprehension. Pushing through the water was just as easy as walking across the ground. The water gave no resistance to our passage, and so we walked past the water and ended up in a single, dark room. I do not say it¡¯s black, for on the walls they twinkled with lights of various hues. Red, violet, green, orange, and a couple dots of pure white. In the center of this room stood a pedestal, with only a thick book upon it. The pedestal was made of wood though, and was illuminated slightly by the array of blinking lights. I ignore the book, and continue staring at all the lights that surrounded me. Since the Stearate was a magical object that was used to travel long distances, or so I could gather from my resources, then these dots would represent different towns and cities with Stearates already set up to receive travelers. But what do the colors signify? I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of the lights, so I turn to Blondie in order to ask him what the lights could signify. Blondie was currently walking to the pedestal where the thick book lay, his pace slow but assured. I begin to walk over to him, as he stands at the pedestal. He opens the book with no hesitation, despite the chances that the Stearate would reject him. Wait, why would an object reject him? Why the hell do I have this pointless knowledge suddenly springing up? Well, in this case I guess such knowledge is good, since Blondie obviously knows what he is doing. ¡°So Blondie, why did you know to go to the book?¡± My question startles him out of his focus, the book dropping back to the pedestal with a nice slap. ¡°Ah, um. Well you see, it¡¯s because before I was a slave, I used this before. Yes, that¡¯s it!¡± His finger is pointing straight up, his smile almost forced. But all I can do is believe in his words, as my life has only been inside the slave trade. I nod to him in understanding, and he returns to the dropped book. I can only trust him, for he has earned it. No room for doubt, yes. No room for doubt. I turn away from Blondie, the sound of pages being flipped echoing through the dark area. The lights still twinkle, the colors not fading in the slightest despite the amount of light they emitted. My eyes are constantly drawn to the rare pure white lights quite often, although I don¡¯t know why. Maybe because they stood out more than necessary? The sound of something wet hitting a very solid floor enters my ears, and I turn quickly to the source of the sound. The sound of pages also stops, as a gasp comes from Blondie¡¯s mouth. The Priestess was lying on the ¡®floor¡¯, as if I could actually call it a floor. Her bottom is raised up in the air, her arms sprawled out in front of her. Her face is facing down, the sound of her breathing gurgled by the water dripping off her soaked hair. In front of her stood the majestic Blondie, the book still in his hands. The water from the Priestess slowly encroached onto his feet, and he steps back from the water. With a gasp, the Priestess lifts her head. Then she lifts herself up from her awkward position. Her chests jiggles from her movement, and a little glare enters Blondie¡¯s eyes. I¡¯m just standing to the side, and I can tell the gale is about to hit. ¡°Why are you here?¡± says Blondie, the question thick with malice. ¡°I¡¯m here because someone decided to destroy the Stearate.¡± The Priestess looks in my direction. I shuffle a little bit towards Blondie to include him in her gaze. Best to be safer then be like a deer in headlights, but wait¡­ what are headlights and a deer? ¡°Well, that¡¯s because we want freedom.¡± Blondie replies to her accusation. Nice one! ¡°If you want freedom, I can guarantee it.¡± The Priestess offers. Blondie remains silent, and I agree. Is it really that simple? To be free after all this time¡­ I look over at Blondie, and I see his nose screwed up at the offer. ¡°What¡¯s in it for you?¡± asks Blondie. Oh, I didn¡¯t even think there would be a catch.. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you that. You will just have to trust me.¡± Says the Priestess. ¡°Blondie, we should just take the offer. Despite the negative consequences, it is better than before.¡± ¡°But Boss¡­¡± I look at Blondie and give him a look, telling him to be quiet. Then I look back at the wet Priestess. ¡°So Priestess, do you know how to work this thing?¡± The Priestess nods, and begins to walk. Walk over to Blondie and the book. He begins to shake a little, the past few years he has been having flashing in his mind. The Priestess walks in front of Blondie, and forcefully takes the books from him with a ¡®Hmph!¡¯ She turns around to look at me. ¡°You do know I have a name, right?¡± I can only shake my head at her question, but I guess it is rhetorical. ¡°I am Maria von Vacheau, the High Priestess of the Yuran faith. I will abide by my word, no matter what.¡± Her haughty voice is full of confidence, and I only shrug in response. What are names for anyways? She opens the book, and flips almost immediately to the center of the book, and begins to read the passages within. Then she looks up at the lights and strides over to a pure white light, poking it with her finger. The Priestess¡­. No, Maria is her name apparently. Well she then smiles confidently, her face and chest filled with confidence. ¡°I should say this now, but let us get through the most difficult part of the journey. The waiting.¡± After she says that, the multiple white lights shine brightly, and the other colored lights dim to almost a nonexistent level. Maria¡¯s wet hair instantly dries for some unknown reason. The sound of water pouring onto a hard surface enters my ears, and I look to the source of the sound. Blondie does the same, and he gasps. I look back to Maria and give her the same look as Blondie, but she is completely unfazed. This is because the water from the before is pouring in the dark space, and the bright lights closest to the imaginary bottom. I personally can¡¯t tell what is going to happen, and also my body is frozen solid by the fear of the unknown. I really don¡¯t want to die. But luckily, the water only rises up a few inches, and stops. Then it becomes calm, the silence almost serene, and only the breathing can be heard. A hum then resounds around us, and the water leaps up off the ground like it is alive. It wraps itself around me and Blondie, and I look over to find the book and Maria held in this odd water¡¯s grasp. Oddly enough, the water is shaped like human hands. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I begin to struggle against the water, but its hold is like the bricks that I used to carry. Strong and firm, I could not shake myself out of the water that didn¡¯t even make my clothing wet. But it isn¡¯t like I began with much clothing either. I look at Blondie to see him not struggling in the slightest, and Maria doing exactly the same. By their example, I must assume that I shouldn¡¯t struggle. But I feel something inside me break a little when I don¡¯t put up anymore resistance. Then the force of the water moving hits me, as we are all lifted off the ¡®ground¡¯ and thrown towards the brightest of the white lights. The light almost seems to engulf us, and there is only my terror that rises up in me. ¡°AHHHH SHHHIIIITTTT!!!!¡± My voice doesn¡¯t seem to echo, but the other two look at me with a glare. The chill I feel from their looks makes the yell stop, and I can only panic on the inside. The darkness felt like forever as we began to move through it, the only light coming from in front of us in the form of a small dot. I close my eyes shut so I can ignore the surrounding darkness, despite the fact that closing eyes will make it dark as well. ¡°Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn.¡± I mutter to myself as the sound of water rushing past me begins and continues. Like a curse, I continue to damn the Stearate, and the feeling as if things become rougher¡­ it must¡¯ve been my imagination, hopefully. The feeling of many suns passing by, as in it became suddenly hot and then cold makes me snap out of my cursing, and I look at the other two beginning to smile as another bright light emerges from the darkness. The time it took for us to pass through the never ending darkness felt like forever, at least that¡¯s how I feel. The light begins to surround us, but doesn¡¯t grab onto us like the water did. Instead, it feels similar to huddling to a clothed pile of hay, a blanket if you will. Well the sound of splashing water, coupled with the blanket feeling, made me think of the time we entered the Stearate, and suddenly my brain links two things together. Are we going to get out of here, into the real world? Is freedom the next step? The sound of my heart rises over the sounds of splashing water, and I begin to feel the weight of gravity returning, the feel of the brick-like water releasing its grip on me. I slip from its grasp and I land face first into something wet. The sound of water being impacted enters my ears, and I open my eyes to find myself underwater. Two other sounds of impacted water echo through the water, and I lift my head to gasp for air. Pure white stone enters my vision, columns upon columns of stone, decorated by someone. No sign of degrading stone, and my loincloth is sopping wet. The feeling of chains on my ankles brings my sense of freedom down a notch, and I begin to look around in earnest, to find something to cut the chains. Blondie is lying in a pool of water with Maria, and I¡¯m standing in the middle of this pool. No, correction, it¡¯s a fountain. The arch of the Stearate enters my vision, the language as incomprehensible as always. Maria and Blondie stand up, each competing by pushing the other down. I continue to look around, and I finally see something I didn¡¯t want to see again. A mass of people in white clothes similar to that of Maria are amassed before the Stearate, looks of shock on their faces. I wonder why they¡¯re shocked. The stone, no wait, the marble stone is glossed and looks similar to glass upon the floor, the pool of water at my feet blocked by a raised edge. A language I do not know decorates some pillars and columns of stone, and the halls that the mass of people are in are incredibly narrow, because the people look like one big blob of white. The murmuring begins when Maria stands up without falling. Blondie is up after her, shaking the water out of his outfit. He doesn¡¯t have a loincloth like mine, and I find that odd now¡­ ¡°I have just come back from the Forlorn Desert! I am the High Priestess Maria von Vacheau.¡± Maria¡¯s arms are spread out wide, a smile floating on her face. Her clothes are still extremely wet, really emphasizing her curves. No catcalls are heard from the mass, which in a sense is a good thing. But I hear some bodies falling onto the floor. Maria then points to Blondie and I. My red hair and his blond hair, my height and his shortness. I put on a smile while Maria begins. ¡°I have found some slaves I am taking under my wing. No objections!¡± Like a mother, she commands the group. Wait, how do I know what a mother does¡­ gah, I can¡¯t keep up with these strange thoughts. ¡°Also, I have discovered that one of these slaves is in fact the princess of our very kingdom!¡± I look at Maria as she says some pretty hefty lines. How could I be a princess¡­ then a few things begin to click in my head. It¡¯s been doing that a lot recently¡­ But the style of hair Blondie has, the way he wears his clothes, and when he saw Maria¡¯s huge chest. I look over at Blondie to find him. No, it¡¯s her now. I find her blushing furiously under the spotlight. ¡°We have found Emilia Regil!¡± Maria¡¯s voice echoes through the halls. The crowd begins to cheer, some crying. I¡¯m guessing Blondie is that loved then? How nice. But what happens to me? I¡¯m still chained. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Author here! Sorry for the long delay, but rl wanted to be a pain. So I felt nice and doubled the length. And for those who read this on Japtem, don''t worry, the story line is just slightly change from the original. Going against Gods is a little too much, so I change the enemy. The History chapter might give you some insight as to who the enemies are. And also, the development is something I am working on. An OP character too fast is fun if done correctly, but those who work hard for it are better in my opinion. Also, I will try to make the rest of the chapters at least 2,000 words from now on. And when I finish the first Arc, I will publish it as one long thread... I have 20 pages so far...
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