Chapter 1: Destiny Calls When You Least Expect It
“Common Pokira, one more time.” an 18 year-old asked his instructor. He was tall, 6’3” and was dressed in clothing untraditional with the shrine where he studied. A vest and sleeve-less shirt tucked into baggy black pants with red slash designs on them. He also had on finger-less gloves that allowed him to keep a grip on a Kendo Bamboo Sword he held, they had markings on the bock of his hand of magical seals. Shackles were around the ends of his gloves and the tops of his boots to keep his gloves and boots on. Spiky red-brown hair stuck out in every direction imaginable as green eyes showed his boyishness energy and determination. This was Denisu Wamiyazen, called “Saké” by everyone in the small village of Hano that surrounded the Keikami Shrine.
“Denisu, you are already pushing yourself. Three hours is long enough, we should take a break.” the one known as Pokira replied as he held a curved wooden sword. Pokira was wearing loose clothing, red samurai-like pants and a dull, white, shirt. He had long white hair that was tied back, and several strands that were stubborn and stayed in front of his face as well as deep purple eyes. Pokira was taller than Saké, whom he refused to call by his nickname in order not to disrespect him.
“Ah, you’re no fun!” Saké rushed forward with the bamboo sword, point in front, right at Pokira. “Ha!” He thrust at Pokira and the teacher side-stepped it as Saké dashed past.
“Denisu, you continue to use the same means of attack. How can you expect to pass the final test at this rate?” Pokira asked, a sweatdrop on his head.
Saké turned and faced his teacher again. Pokira was his teacher and mentor as far as swordsmanship and spells went, and was very hard to beat. Almost no one had ever passed Pokira’s final tests. “The same means may do the trick, but I’ll just have to get faster for them to work. Nimble!” A purple aura surrounded Saké and seemed to flow from the ground around his feet. He could feel the effects of the agility boosting spell taking effect and went to use them.
In a dash of pure speed, Saké charged Pokira, leaving a cloud and trail of dust behind him as he ran. He was almost a blur as he rushed for Pokira. His teacher readied his weapon for Denisu’s assault. Just as Saké was ready to attack, something unexpected happened. He tripped.
Saké tripped. He tripped and lost control of his speed. Still going very fast, Saké rolled along the ground, skidding and screeching as he started to slow. But not before he slammed into a tree, face first, bringing him to a full stop. The tree was shook, while Saké was shaken, a giant impression left on his face where he hit the tree.
Dazed, Saké admitted, “Okay, maybe that is enough for now…. Eh aaaaaah..” And he fell on his back, a dazed look on his face.
Pokira only had a sweatdrop on his head. “Denisu…”
* * *
A young man dressed in mostly black attire stood in a fighting position. His feet were spread and his body slightly crouched over. He had his left arm up and the fingers extended while his right arm was next to his body, clenched in a fist. Eyes closed, he inhaled and then exhaled before opening his black and red tinted eyes. A sweatband rested on his forehead, keeping the sweat out of his eyes as a black cloak rested on his shoulders. One of a pair of fangs was out over his lower lip, and long braided hair at the back of his head.
“Hi-yaw!” he shouted and unleashed a volley of punches and jabs on the stuffed dummy supported by a wooden steak. This individual’s name is Kage Ikagaide, a close range fighter whose father had trained him to use his fists as well as his feet. Kage was 20 years-old and preferred to remain close to home with his father and mother, he currently lived in Zean, just a few blocks from his parents home. He made a living doing labor and anything to improve the strength of his body. Within in a minute the practice dummy was reduced to straw and wood, and Kage stood back and restored his breathing to normal.
“Mornin’ son!” he heard from behind him and Kage looked.
“Dad?! What are you doing here?” he shouted back.
Serge Ikagaide was a man with a large upper body build and his muscles could be seen through the thin material he wore as a merchant of rare Element spells and scrolls. He had the beginnings of a beard on his chin and short cut hair compared to Kage’s long braid. In one hand was a briefcase.
“Can’t a father pay his own son a visit?” he replied.
“Maybe,” was Kage’s response.
“I see you’re still training?”
“The only way I’ll stop training is the day I defeat you dad.” Kage smirked. It was true, as long as Kage had been training, he had always been training for the day he could defeat his father.
“Fat chance son,” his father flexed his muscles. “As long as I still live and breathe I’ll still be better than you.”
The two stared at each other, then they moved. Kage dashed forward and aimed a kick for his father’s solar plexus, as his father threw a punch. Both attacks hit home, but both combatants were still in their positions when their attacks hit, Kage on one leg, his foot under his father’s rib cage, and his father’s fist merging with his cheek.
“Looks like a draw,” Kage commented.
“Not quite,” his father replied. With a twist of his other hand, Kage’s father flipped him on his back, sprawled out. “I’m still better.”
He extended his hand and helped Kage back to his feet.
“So Kage, what do you say we get something to eat?”
“Fine by me, as long as you don’t cook.” Kage replied, pounding his father on the back, as they walked towards some of the good taverns in Zean.
* * *
On a patch of land, not too far from the town of Zean, an 18 year-old girl practiced with an old spear. She placed her feet apart as she imagined herself matched against an invisible enemy. She hacked and slashed, her light brown eyes following the possible movements of her “enemies” and as her copper-brown hair, done in a braid, moved in the aftermath of her movements. Her shoes gave her feet some grip as she continued attacking. The stiff, brown, leather jacket around her upper body hid parts of a faded yellow shirt underneath it. Her midsection was exposed between the bottom of her jacket and the top of her pants, which were brown, with red flame designs in them.
She is known as Vared. And the “enemies” she had been attacking, happened to be bushes near the edge of her family’s property.
“Vared,” her father shouted from the house. “Are you finished beating around the bush?” he asked in a corny joke.
Vared sighed, a mushroom cloud escaping from her mouth. “Very funny dad.”
“Don’t complain too much young’n.” she heard an older voice than her father reply. “My jokes aren’t that great either! Oh ho ho ho!”
Vared turned at the sound of the elder’s voice. “Grandpa Abram!!” she shouted, surprised and excited to see her grandfather.
Abram was stouter and shorter than his son and his granddaughter was taller than him as well. He had a bushy beard and mustache as well as white eyebrows and hair. Abram always seemed to have a smile on his face.
Vared ran up to hug him. “Grandpa!”
“My my Vared, you are still practicing I see. Who was it this time? Ninjas or Knights. Oh I know, bounty hunters after your head.” he joked as Abram hugged Vared.
Abram had taught Vared how to fight and fend for herself, and so far the lessons had paid off. He used to be a warrior of long ago when he was fit as a fiddle and able to hold his own against a dozen men. Because of his age he started to teach Vared who could hold her own in a sparing match against him, but was still no match. Only recently, because of Abram’s age and Vared’s increasing skills, she has managed to beat him once or twice. The record was still being argued over.
“Vared, Grandpa’s going to be staying for a few days.” her father told her as the three went inside the house. “Gabe’s gonna miss seeing him.”
Gabe, or rather Gabriel, was Vared’s older brother and currently away at a university. He was studying to become a scholar and was never very interested in their grandfather’s exercises, something Vared never could understand.
“Oh, I’ve got that rascal a few things. I haven’t left him out yet.” Abram replied with his usual sense of humor.
“Looks like I’ll be giving the family spear to Vared after she turns 19.” her father commented.
Vared knew what her father was talking about. In the basement of their house was a box that her father had only opened a few times, once to show Gabe and another to show Vared when they were each 10 years old. It was an heirloom that had been in their family for generations. Vared remembered when she first saw the spear. The blade was 8 inches long and leaf-shaped with flame designs on the yard long shaft. She thought it was beautiful when she saw it and couldn’t wait to actually hold it.
“Dinner’s ready everyone!” Vared’s mother shouted from the kitchen.
“Great Maria.” Abram boasted. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!”
“I think the horse would eat you dad.” Maria replied as she started to set the table and everyone laughed.
* * *
“No no Sora! Never put your feet like that.”
Sora Hibari changed her foot stance and eyed her father, Tousan, whom she was training with. She was 18, and was wearing mostly blue denim. Her skin was tan, her hair was shoulder length and dirty blonde, and her eyes were a deep navy blue. Sora had on a sky-blue t-Shirt under a darker blue denim jacket, with the design of a dragon waving towards anyone behind her, as well as baggy denim jeans that hid black hiking boots. In her hands she held the wooden version of a Kama, a scythe-like weapon.
Tousan, Sora’s father, was holding another wooden kama. “There! Much better.” he commented and raised his weapon to eye-level. “Ready?”
A smile drew across Sora’s face. “Yes.” She enjoyed sparing with her father and trying to defeat him.
Tousan lunged for his daughter, swinging the kama in order to slice her arm off, Sora blocked and went for an open spot in his attack. The next few minutes went like this. Blocking, attacking, counter-blocking, and counter-attacking, until Sora went for a move. Using the wooden blade she yanked her father off balance, Tousan landing on his rump. She pointed the blade at his chest.
“Very good.” he commented before he whipped his kama and broke hers in two, for the fourth time today. “But not good enough. Remember to block their arms as well.” he said with a smile.
Sora dropped to her knees, the broken kama still in her hands. “Daaad…. That’s the fourth one!!! I’m telling mom you broke this one.”
“Come on, get up you.” Tousan said and extended his hand for Sora to take. He pulled Sora to her feet. “She won’t mind. We’ve got many left still.”
They started walking towards a house.
“When can I use a real one?” Sora asked, with her eyes big, trying to show how cute she could be.
“When you’re older.” Tousan replied.
Sora rolled her eyes. That’s the answer for everything…. she thought.
Inside, their home was nicely furnished, with comfortable chairs and pillows to sit on as well as art to admire. There were also some things from long ago, antiques from ancient times. Tsuru, Sora’s mother was finished cooking and could hear her husband and daughter argue.
“Come on you two. Quit fighting, dinner’s ready.” Tsuru told them.
They sat down and began to dig in.
“Oh Tsuru, Sora broke another kama again.” Tousan stated and flashed a devilish grin towards his daughter.
“Oh did she Tousan?” Tsuru looked at Sora. “Last I remember it was your father who broke your kama.” This comment caused Tousan to almost choke on a piece of steak.
“Well that may have been my fault.” he said with a cheesy grin at his wife.
“Nope. It was all your fault dad.” Sora commented and Tousan tossed a washcloth at her. The washcloth had hit her square in the face, it wasn’t wet, but she threw it straight back, hitting her father harder.
It may have seemed a bit strange to other families, but this was quite normal for the Hibari Family, and everyone had fun “beating” on each other.
* * *
Near a house, a girl was blindfolded. She was 16 years old and had a strong build, although it couldn’t be told from just looking at her. The girl was small and lightweight with short brown curly hair. If you could see her eyes, they would be an icy blue/gray, a color that should not be stared at for too long. She was wearing a long blue tunic, black leggings, and boots. She enjoyed looking plain.
This girl was Amalthea Arran, but preferred to be called Amal.
Amal used her other senses because her sight had been blocked by the blindfold. Slowly her head turned, searching for any movements. Her grip on her katana tightened. A whistling sound and Amal slashed to her right. The one attacking her jumped back and Amal ducked an oncoming blow and rolled back, avoiding the attack by a few inches at best.
On all fours, she strained her hearing to find out where her opponent, or more correctly, her father had disappeared to. A slight scuffle, silent to most, got her attention towards her left. She back flipped and slashed, someone cursed. A piece of clothing had been ripped off in that last maneuver. Amal slashed again, but the attack was parried and her father thrusted up.
The point of his weapon touched her neck and Amal gulped. Her father removed the blindfold over her eyes.
“You’re getting much better Amalthea.” he admitted with a smile. He sheathed his weapon and stretched his arms. Two hours of sight restriction sparring would be frustrating to most, but Amal was exceeding and getting much better in every practice session.
“Yeah, and I’m almost close to beating you for once.” Amal replied, also stretching her body after the training.
“Yeah yeah, let’s see you try it later.” They started heading into the house. “How about I whip us up some of my famous shrimp stir-fry?”
“Yay!” Amal cheered because her father’s cooking was the best on the whole planet. “Only no more zucchini this time.”
“Okay, more onions then!” her father replied.
“No! I hate those even more!!”
“No more complaints or it’s liver and onions.” her father teased.
“Okay, I’ll be quiet.. More shrimp?”
“I think I can handle that request.” he replied as they went inside.
* * *
Perched on a branch, a female feline Demi-Human was laying. Her cat-like eyes were closed as she rested, her ears sticking up, ready to pick up any sounds, and her tail slowly waving in the air under the branch. A wrap-around skirt stopped at mid thigh, and a vest matched the skirt. She wore a shirt under the vest, but it was a small tank-top because anything bigger would restrict her mobility. Her skin was a tan gold with small spots of black, giving her a more feline look. The hair was the same color as her skin, but without the spots. She also had fingernails that were more like claws than nails.
“Elena? Prae-Girl?”
“For the last time, I AM NOT…. Oh! Father!”
Elena Kai-Prae looked down from her branch to see her father standing below. Alun Prae looked more cat-like than his daughter, with the nose and larger eyes of a feline. He had the bad habit of referring to Elena still as a girl, when in truth Elena was 21 years old.
“Yo! Big Sis!” someone shouted from above Elena and she looked up to see her brother, Lynx Kai-Prae, jumping down towards her.
Elena’s reflexes activated and she back-flipped from laying and into a squatting position. Lynx flew by and she reached out and grabbed her younger brother by the scuff of his neck in mid-air.
“Lynx,” she looked at her brother in the eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He grinned back. “Common sis, I just found out you got back last night. Can’t I surprise my big sis once in a while?”
Elena sighed. Lynx had always wanted to surprise everyone in the Kai-Prae home. Sometimes that surprising got him into trouble once too often.
“Elena!”
“Elena hi!”
She looked down and saw the younger faces of her two younger sisters, Katie and Jan. Katie was older but both of them were still young.
“Elena. When did you get home?” Katie asked.
“When did you get home?” Jan echoed her sister, only slurring a few of the syllables.
“Last night. If you Younglings weren’t so sound sleepers then you would have heard her.” Alun replied.
“Common Elena. Let’s go out for a game or two.” Lynx encouraged.
“I was sleeping before father showed up Lynx. I’m not in the mood now.” she replied.
“Aw, you’re no fun sis. At least Saké will give our games a try.” Lynx protested and got out of his sister’s grip, dropping to the ground on his hands and feet. “Let’s go see if Saké will play.” he said and ran off with his younger sisters behind him.
“Yay! Saké’s fun!” Katie cheered.
“Saké fun!” Jan echoed as the three disappeared into Direwood Forest.
Elena climbed down the tree and then hopped the last three feet. “Saké is still here?”
“Yes, he comes by at least once a week. Leon and Pokira must be increasing his training by now.” Alun replied and he and his daughter walked towards the group of tents that marked where the Pride had made camp for almost 15 years.
The Pride was a large group of feline Demi-Humans, consisting of several large families. Close and distant relatives of various families also resided within the Pride. The whole group were nomads, continuing moving from place to place for reasons forgotten from memory but continued from tradition. The tents were in constant state of repair and rarely, only in the marriage of two Pride Members, would a new tent be constructed.
Elena was surprised at how everyone had changed. She had left the pride to explore more of the Zeeam Continent after she had turned 18, and just now she had returned, homesick or for reasons unknown even to her. Everyone waved as she passed by, her father leading them to their tent.
The Kai-Prae tent was the largest one in the entire Pride, because Alun was the leader of the families and would say when they should move on. They entered the tent and Elena saw her mother, Necia Kai sitting the slight glow of a lamp.
“Have a nice cat-nap Elena?” Necia asked. Necia Kai was more human looking than either Alun or Elena, but had golden cat-like eyes.
“Yes, until father and Lynx decided to end it.” she gave her father a comical glare.
“Still it is nice to have you home after three years.” Alun admitted as they took seats around the lantern.
“I was afraid you would move the Pride before I had a chance to come back.” Elena admitted.
“The whole reason we are still here after 15 years is because this place is so peaceful, nothing could disturb it. That and the fact that I didn’t want to move until we saw you again.” Alun admitted. “The other families agreed this was a perfect place to raise the younglings. Even though the humans in Hano don’t particularly care for us. Enough about that. Tell us what you thought of the rest of the continent. Any places that we should think of moving the Pride to?”
* * *
In a darkened room, a Demi-Human sat. Light, purple, fur covered the exposed portions of his skin. Messy white hair stuck out from his head as his eyes were closed. Dressed in black, he concentrated on the task before him, shutting off all senses. His elf-like ears stuck out the sides of his head, small tuffs of fur at the ends. This was Horus, a 20 year-old Psychic Innate who was busy meditating, his feet twitching a bit.
Horus. Horus. he heard his mother mind link with him. Horus, are you still meditating on the problem before you?
Yes mother. It is very difficult, it is.
I know you won’t give up so easily Horus. Dinner will be ready in a few hours.
All right mother. he replied and concentrated more on the matter at hand.
Horus came from a long line of Psychics, very powerful ones at that. His mother was strong, but his father was much stronger. They always had some problems or times for meditation for Horus to perform.
Contrary to first implications, Psychics cannot read minds at all. Instead they can sense the aura of a person or animal, and see the color corresponding with the emotion that creature is feeling. Red for anger, blue for sad, green for envy, black for hatred, pink for love, orange for agitation, and so on. They do however can mind-link with immediate family members and speak without speaking, as well as have premonitions that can take place in the immediate or distant future.
Horus concentrated. His current task, was to stretch his mind to find his father, who was busy in the market place. A most difficult place to find one single mind wave. Horus was getting close, but there were too many minds gathered in one place. He concentrated more, his features becoming strained and contorted, shutting his eyes harder, gritting his teeth.
Then something hit him like a ton of bricks and he gasped. Visions, rapid visions of fighting. Death and destruction. And even large creatures that resembled the Lesser Dragons that resided near the Pire Range and Hydra Jungle. But these creatures were different. Taller, broader, stronger, prouder. Then there was a darkness that he saw, spreading slowly until it blocked his entire vision. Laughter. Evil laughter. He could hear it coming form everywhere and yet no where. The laugh was inhuman and was starting to drive Horus insane.
He threw his hands over his ears in an attempt to shut out the laugh, but it continued. His meditation broken, Horus fell onto his side and passed out.
Horus was shaken awake a few minutes later by his mother. His father was there as well, concern on both of their faces, but relieved when he didn’t seem to be hurt or his psychic abilities hampered in any way. But Horus couldn’t get the sound of that evil laughter out of his head, and spent the hours after dinner trying to make sense of his vision.
* * *
On a dirt road, a Demi-Human walked along. Green and scaly, this being was part chameleon. He wore no shoes and had three toes as well as three fingered hands. Across his shoulders lay a long and large thing wrapped in cloth. It must not have weighed much, because he carried it with hardly any effort. Black, tattered, clothing hung from his torso and silk pants with holes in them covered his legs.
This Demi-Human’s name was Chamel, and he hummed a fast and happy tuned song as he walked. Chamel was heading back towards the shrine where he was staying, and had stayed since he was barely 3 years old. The sensei of the shrine took special interest in Chamel, and trained with him on a daily basis. Just now, he had sent Chamel to town to fetch a package which had arrived for him. Chamel, glad to get out of the shrine every one in a while, went off like a rocket and was now on his way back.
He heard some voices behind him and he scampered up a tree. His bare hands and feet made the trip easily and effortlessly. Up on a branch, laying on the package carefully, Chamel watched as three humans walked down the road towards the shrine. He recognized them as students who also studied there, the clothing was the first sign of this reasoning.
“I can’t believe the nerve of that Chamel,” said one. “Just because the sensei takes pity on him for being abandoned, doesn’t mean he should run free like he does.”
“Once I heard he hid in the girl’s shower using his camouflage ability.” another stated.
“He’s an animal and should be locked up, or at least kicked out.” the third one, a girl commented.
Chamel wasn’t hurt by their insults, rather he was looking at what the three students were carrying on their back. Three individual baskets, one had apples, another mangos, and the third one had the Grib Berry, a personal favorite of Chamel. Chamel had the familiar long tongue that actual chameleons possessed and aimed for his target.
His tongue lashed out, and latched onto something. Pulling his tongue back Chamel waited for the sweet and sour taste of the Grib. But instead of fruit pulp, something dry, silky, and tasting of cloth met his mouth. He took the object out of his mouth and instantly blushed, some blood escaping from his nose. It was the girl’s BRA!!!
“ACK! This ain’t a Grib Berry!” he exclaimed.
“CHAMEL!!!” shouted an angry feminine voice.
“Huh?” Chamel looked and, just as he did, something hard and solid connected with his face. “Ghah!” he shouted as the blow knocked him out of the tree. He fell hard on his stomach, a huge bump on his reptilian head. “Ouchie…” he said full of pain. A foot stepped by his head and he looked up.
The girl was burning mad and was flushing at the cheeks. “You have some nerve Chamel!”
“It was an accident,” he tried to defend himself.
“I’m sure the sensei will kick you out after this stunt!” She turned on a heel and ran off towards the shrine. The two guys who had been with her snickered.
“Good going Chamel.”
“See you in the outside world, freak!”
They ran off and disappeared on the road. Chamel twisted around and ended up sitting, with his legs crossed, looking towards the direction of the shrine. He let out a mushroom cloud sigh and looked up at the tree tops.
“Why me? I’m so hungry.” he said, his stomach growling.
There was a sliding noise and Chamel looked up. The package he was laying on up in the tree branch slid off and fell. It whacked him in the head with it’s flat side. Chamel fell onto his back, now two lumps ahead today.
* * *
Wind blew into Zera Leonhart’s face as he readied his katana. Zera was 19 years young, and dressed in dark clothing. Numerous belts and two metal pads, one on his left arm and the other on his right hip, acted as armor. His clothing was baggy, very baggy and small gauntlets on his arms that ended in gloves that exposed his fingers. Zera had two heavy boots on his feet, giving him some grip on the ground as he moved. His katana had tape stuck all around it, giving it an older appearance.
Zera faced his friend once again. His friend, Juste, bared a wooden axe. That was fine, because Zera’s katana was also made of wood. Juste was just a bit shorter than Zera and had some gear on his left hand, his blocking hand. The two enjoyed sparring together, because both were skilled at what weapons they preferred.
Juste charged, ready to swing the axe and lop off part of Zera’s body, Zera jumped back, being slightly carried by the wind and raised his weapon to block. The weapons connected and Zera moved his weapon down and slashed for Juste’s arm. The blow connected, but since both of them were already covered with bruises Juste hardly felt it. He swung the wooden axe in an arch, in order to hit Zera’s torso, but Zera ducked under the attack, and jabbed the point of his weapon into Juste’s stomach.. Juste stepped back and Zera jumped to kick his friend in the chest just as Zera’s foot connected, Juste grabbed him by the ankle and they both fell to the ground. Zera landed close by Juste, flat on his face.
Zera picked his head up, looked at Juste who was on his back. A smile cracked his face and he started laughing, Juste joined in too, and their laughter could be heard over the hills of the field where they currently were.
“Who won that one?” Juste asked.
Zera flipped onto his back, staring at the sky and his hands under his head. “Dunno, I think it was a draw.”
“How could you tell? Our records always been dead even. Can’t you at least argue with me that I won?” Juste stated, trying to get Zera to argue.
Zera chuckled. “Whatever Juste.” he said. “Does it matter?”
“Na, I guess you’re right. HEY!” Juste exclaimed, realizing Zera had beaten him without even trying to argue.
Zera laughed again.
The two just laid in the field, looking up at the sky. “Fells good to be alive, doesn’t it?” Zera asked.
He was replied with Juste’s snoring. Juste had fallen asleep!
Zera sighed and closed his eyes. Soon, he was asleep as well.
* * *
“Hya!” someone shouted as he slashed a tree. This boy, was 15 years old, and was yielding a 6 foot-long naginata. He had leather boots on, that had his baggy blue pants tucked into them. A lose shirt revealed most of his medium build for being 5 foot seven. Sweat caused his silver hair to stick to his forehead as his pale blue eyes glared at the tree. His naginata was slashed into the tree, and the metal blade was stuck!
Seylin Hatsuki tugged at the handle of his naginata, pulling with all his strength. Even resorting to planting his feet on the tree and pulling parallel with the ground. Struggling, he finally managed to wrench the blade free, but in doing so, he fell flat on the ground.
“Ouch.” he commented rubbing his head. “That wasn’t very smart, in retro-spec.”
He sat on the ground and looked up to the sky. Clouds began to form into darker shapes.
The Hatsuki home was built between Hano and Zean, on a dirt road connecting the two towns. Many convoys passed through the path, and some had road-side shops set up along the path for weary travelers to pass and refresh themselves before continuing the trek to either Hano or Zean. Seylin’s home was such a place.
His father ran a small bed-and-breakfast and make-shift Inn for people going along the road. Hano and Zean were two days apart if one walked. Luckally the Hatsuki residence was placed strategically between both towns, and was also surrounded by other homes and houses.
The small place was called Kikata, but was given the nickname of “Half-way Kita.”
Seylin plopped down onto his back, and tried to slow his breathing. He had been whacking the tree with his naginata for the better part of three hours, trying to get stronger, but had only ended up exhausting himself from the effort. Damn, I hope it’s not going to rain. he thought. I hope there’s a blizzard that wipes this place clean. Seylin had a bad habit of disliking people in general and had a semi-psychotic personality to match. It didn’t exactly make him the most popular person in Kikata, but then again it did give the people a reason to leave him alone. No one really made an effort to make a friend out of him, they just decided it was best to leave him alone.
“Seylin! Give up on hacking that tree down?!” a voice reached him from the direction of his home.
Seylin tilted his head and looked behind him, there was his father standing on the porch of their home. Seylin’s father was tall and had blue hair. He was the exact opposite of his son, a person who was very outgoing and made friends with everyone in town and anyone who happened to stay at his home passing through. He had some small glasses on the end of his nose that reflected the sunlight a bit back to Seylin.
“No father, I’m still at it.” Sometimes Seylin didn’t understand what his father saw in people, he just hoped it wouldn’t happen to him.
“Well that’s good. But you put too much effort into your slash. You have to ease off the force behind your attack and go with an arch, instead of a slash. That way you should save me the time of having to sharpen that old naginata of yours every time you hack that tree.” he advised. “Oh, we have some new boarders who came into town and are looking for a place to stay. They may consider our home.”
“Great,” Seylin said distastingly. “Now I know I’ll have to lock my door today.”
“Don’t be so hard on all people son,” His father tried to calm his son’s distrust towards all people. “The bad ones spoil the hope for the most that are good people inside.”
“Whatever,” Seylin replied and headed inside. “I don’t care as long as they leave me alone.” he walked upstairs to his room and shut the door, but not before locking it. He angled his naginata in the corner and fell onto his bed. On a nightstand by the bed, there was a picture of three people. A young Seylin, a slightly younger personage of his father, and a woman that the reflection of the sun blocked from being seen.
* * *
A seventeen-year-old girl with long braided blonde hair and copper skin aimed an arrow on her bow towards a young boy with an apple on his head. A sweatband lay over her eyes, covering her eyebrows and pushing her hair out. Her yellow eyes zeroed in on the apple on top of the boy’s head. A sash was tied around her waist, helping her skirt stay on her hips, and a single strap tank top was covering her chest, her midriff exposed. Black boots went up her legs and stopped at her knees.
This was Faile Thundersong, a girl with a short temper and deadly aim as she pulled the string back on the yew bow. The boy with the apple on his head was Thaddeus, her younger brother, who had bugged her to play “William Tell” with him.
Their mother walked out onto the porch. “Faile, Thaddeus, what are… FAILE!” she screeched.
“What?” Faile replied and her finger slipped on the arrow. It sprang forward, off aim and heading straight for Thad’s chest. “No!”
A spoon came flying and knocked the arrow up into the air. It went off course and the arrow spun in the air. The deadly point of the arrow went upward in its course and struck the apple above Thaddeus’s head. This had all taken place in the fraction of a second.
“Yeah! You did it sis!” Thaddeus exclaimed, impressed by his sister’s archery skill, and holding both pieces of the apple in his hands.
“Faile!” her mother shouted. “I thought I told you never to point an arrow at another being!”
“Thaddeus wouldn’t stop bugging me mother!” she shouted back. Faile had a very short temper and would always be the first to start gunning for a fight. Usually no one would argue with her because many people knew of her archery skill and didn’t want to be at the receiving end of an arrow point. “So I agreed to play with him.”
“I won’t allow this! You are grounded, go to your room until supper’s ready.”
Faile stormed up to their home. Her mother stopped her.
“Give me your bow and arrows, Faile.” her mother ordered with a strangely calm voice.
Faile threw down the yew bow and the arrows onto the porch and ran inside. The sound of her door slamming could be heard through the entire house.
Marge Thundersong sighed at her daughter’s temper as she picked up what Faile had thrown on the porch. Thaddeus munched on the apple, curious as to why Faile seemed to be crying.
“Common Thaddeus, let’s go get dinner finished.” Marge asked as she headed inside.
They went inside, Thaddeus holding both halves of the apple.
* * *
Dark clouds hung in the sky as rain splattered against a window. Lightning crackled in the sky, lighting up everything inside a room.
Someone, clad in black clothing relaxed in a soft reclining chair as the storm raged on outside his domicile. Parchments lay scattered across a table as candles burned, nearly exhausted and almost melted. Old pictures of men were placed on bare spaces on the walls, in which everything else was taken up by books of every size, shape, age and color on shelves. On the table, perched up by a stand decorated to look like a dragon’s hand was an orb. Blue tinted clouds swirled inside the orb, matching the turmoil outside.
In the person’s hands was a steaming cup of hot tea. The hands had several rings on the fingers and the fingernails had been filed to a sharp point. This person was a man, dressed in a robe, enjoying the turmoil outside his safe home. A smile split his face. A strange smile because one of the canines of his upper jaw was sharper than in a normal human’s mouth.
“Soon, very soon,” he started. His voice was dark and foreboding, an evil air about it. “They shall be mine, and then nothing can stop me.”
There was a flash of lighting, illuminating the entire study.
“Heh heh heh.” his laugh was quiet at first. After the thunder sounded his laughing increased, getting more evil as he went. “Ha ha ha. HA HA HA HA HA. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!” A bolt of lightning was followed immediately by a thunder clap and another one split the sky. The storm had only just begun.
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Wamiyazen Denisu “Saké”: Hey, I’m Wamiyazen Denisu, but just call me Saké! A day that first appears normal turns out to be more excitement than any of us could have ever expected. Soldiers show up at our homes and say they’re looking for antique pendants that belong to someone called Garm. I don’t know about you, but I think they’re lying. Common soldiers! Bring it on! Next time on Chains of Dragons! Ambushed! Part I: Mystical Pendants and Powerful Weapons.
Let’s go! Photon Blast!