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Conure1243
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Delivered without much comment. Revisions are for Draft 2
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Note, there are some formatting jokes that haven't carried over
Summary so far! (The summary is the first sentence of each paragraph, until it hits a period.)
CANS OF TUNA ARE THE MOST DIABOLICAL THING IN THE UNIVERSE. Scissors are boring little monsters with the ability to stop time and eat pizza, The bread bag looked in horror at the events happening before him. Jeffery whispered to the empty cage. My name is Stephen. The cheesecake was named Doug. I ate the cheese and Bob screamed, Jeffery ran. There was a disturbance in the pressure. I has good grammars! “I am telling you my name is STEPHEN!” Jeffery was swarmed. “I HAS GOOD GRAMMARS!!!” Poor being. Cheez ran. “Prepare to make cheese create broccoli.” Jeffery coughed. Samantha took the shot. Robert didn’t want to live on the farm anymore. Grammar man was on alert. If a monkey were to eat some cheese, then my bob would go crazy. Have you ever just sat down and wondered, do cheeses hate goats? WRITER’S BLOCK IS FUNNNNNNNNNN! There aren’t many who know of tuna’s powerful ally, the dairian army of cheeses. Jeffery woke up coughing. Grammar man looked around. “They want to destroy everything in it!” Jeffery couldn’t believe it. “Wait a minute,” The potato was hot and cheesy. The unicorn trotted across the rainbow thinking, I believe in little girls! Once upon a time there was a rock. I enjoy not being sick. Wow. MISS MAN! The flubba flubba is made of nubba nubba but nubba nubba is made of flubba flubba and flubba flubbas eat nerbba nerbbas, that eat rubba rubbas, which eat bubba bubba grass, discovered by the amazing scientist Jubba Jubba, Grabba Grabba. Grammars man walked with jeffery through the sandstone chasm it wasnt very deep only about 4 feet deep actually. Slice was holding a feeling of absolutely seething rage. “(Redacted)” Slice complained. Slice ran towards Cheez, fueled by the rage inside of him. (Redacted) wrote a sentence. Cheez appeared in front of the cans of tuna. The arrow was sad. Cheez walked away from the large palace. Jeffery sat in front of a hulking being, slightly plump, with a comically large nose. Lingonberry, said grammars man said. Slice suddenly knew that he was the author’s new favorite character.Jeffery could see that slice no longer thought he was (Redacted)’s favorite character, As grammar man bellowed out with many sentences that had no proper grammar.Grammars man was done being happy for now and so he decided that he would just have no periods commas or any punctuation marks and then he flew out the window and then he was scared because their was know window that was they’re so he hit his head and google docs didnt know what to do about the grammar anymor and then the destiny peoples who controlled they’re lifes and fates decided to eat some yummy cheeseseses (Redacted), (Redacted 2), and (Redacted 3) decided to eat some yummy cheeses as they idly typed. Cheez walked across the dusty gray ground. Samantha missed Miss man again, and shot again. Slice skipped his paragraph because he was in too much of a daze to do anything but follow Jeffery. Jeffery walked through the thick forest that they had found themselves inside. “I’m a smiley face,” the happy face sang, “I’m a smiley face and I will stay here for eternity!” Ta-Da. “Gluggle gluggle gluggle.” said Gluggle guy. ˙ɯǝɥʎɐɯ puɐ ɟǝᴉɥɔsᴉɯ pǝsɐɔ eʌɐɥ I "How are you doing today؟" Grammars man asked.
Part one!
CANS OF TUNA ARE THE MOST DIABOLICAL THING IN THE UNIVERSE. OUR FEEBLE BRAINS CANNOT PROCESS THE POWER WHICH THEY HOLD. THE TUNA CANS WILL EVENTUALLY WIPE US OUT AND RULE THE WORLD, THEN THEY WILL CONQUER THE GALAXY, THEN THE UNIVERSE, THEN THE MULTIVERSE, THEN THE MULTIMULTIVERSE, ALL THE WAY UNTIL THEY HAVE EVEN CONQUERED THE MULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIMULTIVERSE
Scissors are boring little monsters with the ability to stop time and eat pizza, but only if they chant, LOILLOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOIL, which is impossible, because they don't have mouths.
The bread bag looked in horror at the events happening before him. The bread bag, even without a mouth, screamed and crawled away like a caterpillar. You see, somebody asked the bread bag a question. The bread bag had Rogophobia, fear of questions, however. The being known as the egg sat there, his question unanswered. Which leads us to the question. What did the egg say to the bread bag? Nothing. It’s an egg.
Jeffery whispered to the empty cage. “Hello you monster.” Then, he got up, and left.
My name is Stephen. Said the cheese whose name was actually cheez. "No." The doctor said, "You are just delusional."
The cheesecake was named Doug. Doug was a very bitter cheesecake, and so nobody ate him. He was glad.
I ate the cheese and Bob screamed, "LOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOIL!" If he were scissors, he would get the ability to eat pizza and stop time. But he wasn’t a pair of scissors, he was something else. Something much, much worse. He was a can of tuna.
Jeffery ran. The empty cage was left behind. Good riddance you monster! He thought. But he was in peril. His best friend, Bob, was secretly a can of tuna. The most diabolical thing to exist. Nearby, Jeffery saw a crawling bread bag. “Can you help me?” he asked. The bread bag screamed, even without a mouth and ran away. Okay… Then he thought, I am going to face this monster. Jeffery stopped, turned around, and opened Bob. Then, he ate the tuna inside. Bob was no longer a can of tuna, he was just a can.
There was a disturbance in the pressure. Pneumonoultra, one of the three leaders of the tuna cans, could feel it. Bob had died. “Bob has died!” Pneumonoultra called to the other two leaders, Microscopicsilico, and Volcanoconiosis. “Commence operation Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis!”
I has good grammars! Thought the one and only GRAMMAR MAN. He sat on Top of a building watching the innocent civilians down below then he heard a scream he jumped up to his feet. “Grammar Man is coming!” He yelled.
“I am telling you my name is STEPHEN!” Cheez said. “NO!!!!” Replied the nurse “YOU ARE DELUSIONAL!!!” Cheez ran out of the room. “CHEEZ!” The nurse called. “We haven’t finished your heart surgery yet!” Cheez was, quite literally, heartless.
Jeffery was swarmed. The cans of tuna were holding him to a volcano so he would breathe in the silica particles and come up with Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Not good.
“I HAS GOOD GRAMMARS!!!” A voice shouted. Grammar man! Jeffery was saved! Grammar man used his grammar powers to save Jeffery. The cans of tuna ran from the (Bad) Grammar.
“Come with me we need to hide in the shadows!” Grammar man yelled. Perhaps Grammar man’s grammar would scare Jeffery away as well. Jeffery coughed. Oh No! He had Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis! “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” Jeffery yelled.
Poor being. Grammar man thought as he watched the person he rescued sleeping in the corner even in his sleep he coughed and coughed and coughed and coughed. Grammar man stood lookout for his new friend Jeffery. Shadows is easy to hide inside. Grammar man thought.
It was quiet.
Cheez ran. He didn’t care that he had lost his heart. He was a piece of cheese. Cheez ran and ran into something. It was a cylinder. It was short, and there were three of them. “Hello.” The middle one said in an ominous tone. “My name is Pneumonoultra. That’s Microscopicsilico to my right, and Volcanoconiosis to my left. We were looking for a minion. Would you join us?” Cheez thought for a moment. Then said, “We have a deal.”
“Prepare to make cheese create broccoli.” A lab worker said. Then he pushed the button. Everything exploded.
Jeffery coughed. Wow. Taking out a notebook, he wrote a tally. Cough # 1112342. As they walked. Grammar man became a little hungry. “Is me hungry.” he said.
“You can have that che-” Jeffery coughed and recorded it. “Ese cake over there.” He finished. “Nah that looks like doug the bitter cheesecake.” Grammar man said. Suddenly something sharp flew past him. “Ow!” said a voice. Jeffery walked up to the sharp object. Who was a pair of scissors. “LOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOILOIL!” He shouted then suddenly popped onto Jeffery’s shoulder. SENTIENT SCISSORS! Jeffery coughed.
Interludes.
Samantha took the shot. It missed. Well, she thought, so much for saving the universe.
Robert didn’t want to live on the farm anymore. Tomatoes are destined for more. Robert jumped off of the vine. He immediately grew arms and legs. He was now buff. “YEAH!” Robert shouted. Then jumped over the mountain.
PART TWO! (This means you got through the annoying interludes! Yay!)
Grammar man was on alert. Jeffery was recording his daily coughing and so he was on alert. Suddenly two beasts that looked like fish with 4 buff legs ran over Jeffery They were each ridden by cans of tuna. Oh no grammar man said
Interludes: (Already.)
If a monkey were to eat some cheese, then my bob would go crazy. Food is tasty so yum hum hum yum cheesy pizza with peppers and sausage and extreme hot sauce, as well as some cough syrup.
Have you ever just sat down and wondered, do cheeses hate goats?
WRITER’S BLOCK IS FUNNNNNNNNNN! HE!
Part 3
Interludes.
Part 4
Interludes.
There aren’t many who know of tuna’s powerful ally, the dairian army of cheeses. Led by none other than Stephen the strong.
Part 5
1000 words!
Interludes
Whoa whoa whoa, whoa. “This is Jeffery here, and I think that this is getting out of hand! Just do the next part properly (Redacted)! I want to know what happened to us!”
“But, but but” (Redacted) began, “Fine.” He sighed.
Part 7
Jeffery woke up coughing. He was tied to a ceiling in a prison. Looking around, he saw Grammar Man next to him. “I has good grammars…” he muttered in his sleep. Outside of the prison cell, Jeffery found cans of tuna guarding the door on their buff, horse-fish. Noticeably, the fish were tuna. Huh. across the stone hallway, there was a blobfish. Jeffery heard a loud noise. “Psst, remember me? From like… 9 paragraphs ago?” The sentient scissors! The cans forgot to prison the scissors! “Call me, slice. Like pizza!” Slice snipped the rope, and Jeffery fell to the ground.
Grammar man looked around. “I is grammars man!” He shouted, before jumping down the broken wall. By forgetting to imprison their new friend slice the cans of tuna made 2 mistakes 1 they allowed jeffery, grammar man to ran free. 2 they let them know about the secret location of there base. We should prepare an attack! Grammar man said to Jeffery “I agree.” Jeffery replied. “Guys?” Slice chimed in. yes Jeffery asked, “While inside the base, trying to save you, I found a thing. The tuna cans are looking for an ancient prophecy! that will give them the power to destroy planets. Their plans have changed guys they aren’t going to rule the multiverse or the multimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultimultiverse they want to destroy everything in it!”
“They want to destroy everything in it!” Slice said, panicked. Jeffery looked around with horror. “I may have left a clue to that prophecy behind.” He said. “What?” Slice yelled. “It was a monster!” Jeffery said, in his defense. “Uh-hu!” Grammar man said. “Grammars man herd of it to.”
Slice paused. “Wait.” He said. “How do you misspell your speaking?”
“Ye” He replied simply.
“Also, did anybody notice that there wasn’t any part 6?”
“YEEEEE!”
“Anyway,” Slice said, " what did you leave behind, Jeffery?”
“An empty cage.”
Slice gasped. “That is a monster!”
Jeffery couldn’t believe it. The whole time he had spent lazily guarding the empty cage, before eventually leaving it completely, was now threatening the omniverse as they knew it! Yet for some reason, he was at peace. He had narrowly escaped the cans of tuna, his coughing ruining their stealthy approach. Grammar man taunted them before they entered the caves of Hungerungerungred, home of the - COUGH COUGH, COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH!- Hungerungerung Giants. Perhaps they would be able to fight the tuna cans. But now, they were making a campfire. “Almost got it,” Slice said, using himself, and some flint, to light a fire. “Got it!” He said as he lit the fire. “So whats you’re backstory.” Grammar man asked.
“I was born five days ago. My family was taken by the tuna cans… even though I don’t have one. It’s supposed to be a dramatic scene where we are all sad about the cans of tuna. I guess I’m ruining that.” “Grammars man has have had good live.” Grammar man said. “But then theyd invented the obnoxious annoying evil horrible unicycle.” He stopped talking. “Alright, then I guess it’s my turn.” Jeffery said.
“Unicycle?.!” Grammar man said.
“I’m just going to try and ignore that you just said 3 different types of punctuation at once.” Slice said.
“Moving on,” Jeffery said. “My family has forever been an ancient line of guardians. Guarding an empty cage. My father failed to tell me the most important reason to guard it. I figured it out, finally, when my friend Bob decided to turn on me and reveal that he was a can of tuna.” Jeffery sighed. “After eating Bob, I angered the cans of tuna.” Slice gasped, his eyes widening. “They got revenge on me by giving me-” Cough Cough COUGH COUGH COUGH! “Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Which is causing my skin to turn blue.”
“That was pointed out in part six,” Slice said, “But it wasn’t there. Sorry readers!”
“Ye.” Grammar man said sadly, ignoring what Slice said.
“See?” Slice said. “Sad scene where we mourn the cans of tuna and their decision to destroy the omniverse. Also, this Jeffery story is incredibly long! Let somebody else have a turn (Redacted)!” Cough cough. COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH!!!
“No. I won’t give anybody else a turn for an entire part!” (Redacted) yelled
“Wait a minute,” Slice said in between the stories. “This section, starting with “‘See?” Slice said. ‘Sad scene’... You get the picture. Anyway, that scene is slightly indented!”
“What? NOOOOOO.” (Redacted) said. Sounding as sarcastic as humanly possible.
Slice glared at him.
Congratulations! You have reached a point in the story, where all character rights will be transferred to (Redacted 3) for a month. After that, she must transfer the ownership to (Redacted 2), in the share screen by clicking “Transfer Ownership.” (Remember the Hungerungerung Giants from Hungerungerungered valley. Also, the perspective swaps from person to person in the following order: Jeffery, Grammar man, and Slice. (Redacted 2), you get the same rules. I will go through and revize revise mistakes. Slice needs to break the fourth wall a-lot, and get annoyed about small things, like slightly indented lines.)
Interludes
Cans of lime are the least diabolical thing in the universe. Our feeble brains can do anything but fail to process the power in which they hold.
((Redacted 3) Insert interludes here)
Once upon a time there was a rock. A nice piece of fossiliferous limestone with a small amount of fossils. Those fossils were all just small unidentified micro organisms.
This stone was 8 and ¼ inches tall and 2 inches wide. This stone was a slightly before triangular pyramid with rounded edges and a top that bent down slightly. The base of the rock was an equilateral triangle. One day this rock thought I’m gonna do a backflip. The end.
((Redacted 2) inserts interludes here.)
The potato was hot and cheesy. It was on fire. It was probably a baked potato.
The unicorn trotted across the rainbow thinking, I believe in little girls!
The little girl sat on the couch thinking, I believe in unicorns!
“Popcorn!” My stomach says, followed by “flamingos”!
The monster thought, why am I a monster?
Part 8 (Written by (Redacted 3), and (Redacted 2))
(Have fun!)
I enjoy not being sick. Jeffery thought, and then coughed. It twas a nice morning and everyone had finished telling their backstories and then put out the fire and went to bed. Jeffery was the only one awake. For a moment. HAK-HAK-HAKK! Jeffery coughed. Cough you man; grammars man said sleepy. “WHO HAS AWOKEN ME FROM MY SLUMBER?” Slice bellowed grandly.
i could did? grammars man said. “Man that guy and his I’s” Slice muttered. Jeffery v
Wow. So little happened in part 8 (Redacted 3) may finish their paragraph, and ownership of the document once again is mine.
INTERLUDES
MISS MAN! WHOOOO!
The flubba flubba is made of nubba nubba but nubba nubba is made of flubba flubba and flubba flubbas eat nerbba nerbbas, that eat rubba rubbas, which eat bubba bubba grass, discovered by the amazing scientist Jubba Jubba, Grabba Grabba
Part 9
Grammars man walked with jeffery through the sandstone chasm it wasnt very deep only about 4 feet deep actually. “i is worried” grammars man said “grammars man is not very liked by thes hungerungerung giants”
“don’t worry” jeffery saids “they shall end the warz”
Grammars man almost agreed, but something jumped out and attacked
Slice was holding a feeling of absolutely seething rage. Nothing in the entire world could EVER redeem that last grammar man paragraph. Except maybe a paragraph of his own as long as that other Jeffery paragraph…
Also, Stephen the Strong had ambushed them.
“You.” Slice said angrily. “You-”
Slice stopped talking as everybody saw a 3 year old, blonde-haired girl in a blue jumpsuit, jump over the chasm shooting a ginormous laser gun at somebody else. She missed.
But then a buff tomato joined the fight.
What was happening?
Ignoring the confusing events, Slice returned his focus to Stephen.
“I know you…” Slice said. “...Cheez.”
Cheez’s eyes began to glow red.
“My name is STEPHEN!” He shouted, forming a lance and a shield into his nonexistent hands.
Oops.
“(Redacted)” Slice complained. “I don’t like the length of my last paragraph. Can you do another one about me?”
(Redacted), clearly startled to see slice again, flipped a name tag on his desk to his normal name. The other side looked like it said “Grabba Grabba”
“Er” (Redacted) said.
“Sorry I haven’t written your character for a while, and I’m just coming back to it after a long time, I’ll give you, slice, what you deserve.”
Slice ran towards Cheez, fueled by the rage inside of him. He leaped up 10 feet into the air before landing a few inches away from cheez, slicing a small amount of his forehead off.
Cheez glared at him, then swung his lance at slice, who blocked with his own foot. Grammar man flew over, and punched cheez square in the face. Cheez retaliated and sent Grammar man flying backward. “I have good grammar…” He said in a dazed voice.
Jeffery followed, with a simple kick. Slice then came from behind, and attacked Cheez by bonking Cheez on the head with his own head.
Cheez staggered back. Dropping his lance onto the rocky ground. Noticeably, it was simply a nail jammed into a screw, enlarged by the Tuna Can’s diabolical evil device. Cheez took a step back, before vanishing.
(Redacted) wrote a sentence.
“Ooo” everyone said.
INTERLUDES
Cheez appeared in front of the cans of tuna.
“You are in pain.” Pneumonoultra said.
“I’m experiencing… memories.” Cheez said, gasping.
“Unfortunately, we will have to remove you.”
“What?”
“We sense your feelings and plans.”
Cheez watched helplessly as Pneumonoultra’s cubelike hand reached out toward him.
Black.
The arrow was sad. He had hurt his head again. He didn’t like flying. Except, it wasn’t really that important, because he was just an arrow, and wasn’t alive.
I like to eat yummy cheese when I'm living in a large grapefruit so I don't want to copy antigravity fun machines I like to eat my cheese in the morning, evening, 12, harglenuggin o'clock, and when I'm in the tuna can's prison YAYYYYYYY wait aren't cheeses allied with the cans of tuna? Am I in danger? I think I angered the cans of tuna! Just think, any second now I might end up being wiped from ex-
Cheez walked away from the large palace. “You. Will. Feel. The. Wrath. Of. Ste-” He paused. “Cheez.” He whispered.
PART 10
Jeffery sat in front of a hulking being, slightly plump, with a comically large nose. “I’m sorry” He said, with a very squeaky voice, “Us giants are allergic to tuna.”
Lingonberry, said grammars man said. wow just think (Redacted) didnt add that redundant redundant grammars mistake on purpose when he did it on accident.
Slice suddenly knew that he was the author’s new favorite character. As they walked away from the hungerungerung valley, Jeffery sighed.
“Well, so much for that idea.” Jeffery whispered.
“notting of the kidding of the not not.”
“Grammar man, why are you so redundant lately?”
“is happy in happy land where I am and I am happy.”
Why?
“Oh no.” Jeffery whispered.
“What.” Slice asked, angry.
“Grammar man is happy.”
Slice looked forward, eyes facing the viewers, scared.
Then his worst nightmare began.
Jeffery could see that slice no longer thought he was (Redacted)’s favorite character, As grammar man bellowed out with many sentences that had no proper grammar.
“Iillian ate that cheeses, and gideon and eric ate those milk and i don’t like cOMMAS anymore. does anybody have some sheep cheese. I like to slap numbers like harglenuggin, and blitzlnuggin and shplaplnuggin and tenteen and ardblargeglugg and ug and ugglebuggle, and 45 and shnitzlnuggin? dID you know that I have a sIDEKiCK named spelling mon? i won’t allow quotation marks in the quotation marks that are inside the quotation marks but you don’t no where they is.
Grammars man was done being happy for now and so he decided that he would just have no periods commas or any punctuation marks and then he flew out the window and then he was scared because their was know window that was they’re so he hit his head and google docs didnt know what to do about the grammar anymor and then the destiny peoples persons person people who controlled they’re lifes and fates decided to eat some yummy cheeseseses
(Redacted), (Redacted 2), and (Redacted 3) decided to eat some yummy cheeses as they idly typed.
Cheez walked across the dusty gray ground. In his right, cubelike hand, he held his lance, a shortened nail jammed into a screw, and in his left, he carried a shield, which used to have the insignia of the cans of tuna, but he scratched it off. Cheez didn’t have very many options, he had considered talking to Slice and his friends, but in the end, he knew it wouldn’t go well.
He stopped, then looked around toward a nearby forest. He began to set up a camp for the night, starting a fire, careful not to melt himself in the blazing heat. Then he got an idea.
Samantha missed Miss man again, and shot again. She missed again.
“Robert!” Samantha called to the lazy tomato.
“Fine.” Robert sighed.
Robert jumped on top of Miss man, and Samantha shot again. She missed and hit Robert, who turned, temporarily, into an ordinary tomato. Any second now, he would come back alive.
Miss man turned, and ran away.
Slice skipped his paragraph because he was in too much of a daze to do anything but follow Jeffery.
Jeffery walked through the thick forest that they had found themselves inside. Walking into a clearing, he saw the weirdest thing he had ever seen. A blobfish, inside a large, almost giant, floating fishbowl, and with a disproportionately large, droopy nose, hovered in the air above a large rock.
“Greetings, Jeffery, Slice, and Grammar man.” it said, mouth not moving.
“Have the we meeted?” Grammar man asked.
“No.” The blobfish said, “I just like to be creepy. My name is Blubby.”
“Where did you learn our names?” Slice asked.
Good to see him start to come out of his weakness. Jeffery thought, before he coughed a good 3 dozen times, and then proceeded to add 36 tally marks in his notebook.
“(Redacted) himself told me for this exact moment.”
“A destiny persons?” Grammar man asked, surprised.
Interludes
“I’m a smiley face,” the happy face sang, “I’m a smiley face and I will stay here for eternity!”
Ta-Da.
“Gluggle gluggle gluggle.” said Gluggle guy.
“NO!” Said Grammar man’s sidekick, Spelling mon. “i hav beeeten u glugle geye! Ey wand two hav ae mispeled advenchre en uh forst!”
PART 11
"How are you doing today؟" Grammars man asked
SIice whimpered
“I is happy said grammars man but not 2 happy so i will have just a story and steal slice’s paragraph and i’m becomeing an even more and more anoying character so i is going to go to the libary did you no that the backwards question mark both broke doogle gocs, and, also, drove, jubba jubba grabba grabba, insane.”
Jeffery sat next to Blubby. The strange fish sat in a floating fish bowl. Grammars man refused to look at him. He’d seemed to be scared of one who was so directly influenced by a “Destiny Persons”. It was strange he hadn’t realized that Slice had, on numerous occasions, done the same thing.
The fire sent waves of heat toward them. Slice sat silently, leaning against a log beside them. Jeffery coughed as he stared into the flame. The red orange glow reminded him all too much of the… the…
That volcano… where the Cans of Tuna first found him and he was given Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Diabolical Aluminum Cans! It couldn’t have been! Jeffery gasped, eyes widening.
Glorf! Glorfglorfglorfglorfglorf. Jeffery understood. The cage. The EMPTY CAGE. He’d left it in that very volcano.
Jeffery gasped suddenly, eyes widening as he fell backward, coughing and looking toward the stars. I was the first to react, pulling myself onto my feet, giving Blubby a glare, and sprinting over to help with… whatever was happening.
What was happening?
Jeffery stuttered as I approached.
“The cage.” He said, whispering softly. He sat up. “I know where the empty cage is.”
Glorf.
Grammar Man jumped.
“Where?” Blubby demanded, “Where?!”
“The volcano. The one where I met Grammars man. The cage is there. And all we need to do is beat the Tuna Cans there.” Jeffery spoke in gasps. He coughed.
Glorf.
He looked at the others. “We’re going. NOW.”
INTERLUDES:
"Last time I screamed at the cheese," Bart whispered, "I THREW A PURPLE LEATHER BOOT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW OF THE NEAREST UPSIDE DOWN GAS STATION!!!" He paused. "But, it's fine. I only wanted to make friends with my face's cousin's uncle's parrot's stash of turtle hair.
Agglebaggle isn’t a cheese, unfortunately. He does, however, enjoy causing people to have the random urge to paint themselves with neon purple paint, then do cartwheels while flying -- specifically using an enchanted bag, made by the King of the Purple Spaghetti Noodles, and has a retail price of $99.99. The King of the Purple Spaghetti Noodles also happens to be Agglebaggle.
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One of the most generic questions people asked authors is "how did you get your ideas?"
I want to try and answer those questions before anybody will have the chance to ask me that, because I want to be asked more interesting questions about my worlds.
So, how did I come up with Emerald of the Shattered Skies?
It's... hard to say all of it, but it started as a self insert story, believe it or not. This version of the story was about me working alongside my pet bird to try and save the main city from falling from the sky.
Somehow, that plot was never bad enough for me to completely scrap it. Anyway, I eventually removed me from the story, and only kept my pet birds.
Oh yeah, never mentioned that. I've had four pet birds. Sky, Snow, Porter, three parakeets, and Emerald, a green cheek Conure.
It was a while before I made them human characters, and until recently, all of them had the power to shift into their bird forms. (A power only kept by Sky, as of draft 2, and actually originating as my powers in the first version of the story.)
There's also a whole story behind Flix, who started out as a character for a completely different story, with the ability to turn into a phoenix.
IDK. I'm just infodumping some of the origins of my ideas. Hope somebody finds them interesting.
Feel free to ask questions!
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"I fear that my name has become shockingly well known throughout the world. I always understood that an accomplishment such as mine would be known throughout history. I always worried that others would think that to be my motivation for departing from my home.
I did not set out on the Path of Mastery for glory. I left so nobody else had to. I left to save my people from doom. Though some respect me for simply learning the magic of every tribe, I believe there are others who find themselves annoyed by the youth who accomplished the impossible, simply to gain power.
This account is for those people most of all."
-Gideon, of Drukar
Chronicles of the Ancient Magic is a series of books set in the same world at different eras.
The main story inside this world is of Gideon, who has his own series known as The Woodland Archer, and will likely be the only multi-book story in this world, on account of his being the most prominent.
This is the most recent version of my very first story idea, and it has evolved a lot through the years, into a story of a young adventurer departing from his home to travel and learn the 8 other magics of the world alongside his childhood friend.
Eventually, Chronicles of the Ancient Magic will include a Steampunk, Sci-fi, Modern, and even a story at the Dawn of History.
How does the idea sound?
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Alright! Adapted from Chapter 2 in Draft 1:
Chapter 4
“Tell me exactly,” Emerald said, “Why is he here?”
Flix smiled kindly.
“He hasn’t told us yet.” Sky explained, “He’s been waiting for you.”
Emerald narrowed her eyes, before sitting down to let Flix speak.
“Well then,” Flix cleared his throat. “Ashkeep is very intent on a specific mission. One about the Galeshards.
“It’s a bit difficult to explain, and I can’t say I’ve had to say this to a group of children before.” He paused. “Have any of you three ever seen an island decay before?”
Sky and Porter shook their heads. Emerald spoke. “Once. When I was very young.”
Aia spoke up in Emerald’s mind. I’ve never heard about that. You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.
Emerald nodded, but didn’t reply to her.
Flix continued. “It has been a long term goal for Ashkeep to find out how to protect cities from falling to the Dead World below.”
Sky spoke up now. “And your findings?”
“Something connected to the Windstorms, damaging the Galeshards. It is something that we have yet to figure out how to prevent.”
“It’s like the protective coating for the grapples,” Sky noted, “It helps a little, but only just delays it.”
“Exactly!” Flix said excitedly, “Every Windstorm, the Galeshards wear down, just slightly.”
“No way to prevent it?” Porter asked, sitting back in the corner of the room, hardly noticeable.
“Not that we’ve found.”
“And we’re supposed to find one.” Emerald folded her arms.
“Not exactly. The Ashkeep Palace is trying to find a solution for that part. What we’ve all decided is that more important than finding a way to slow it down, is a way to repair the crystals themselves.”
Porter paled. “That hasn’t been done by the most brilliant minds! Why… why us?”
“Simple.” Flix said, “Brilliant minds aren’t considered brilliant until they make a breakthrough, not the other way around. We need as much help as we can get.”
“And we’d get to go to Ashkeep?” Sky sounded eager.
Flix froze.
“No. I’m afraid you won’t be leaving Windspire.”
Emerald already understood. “You’re recruiting us to save Windspire.”
The only confirmation was a grim nod.
Sky opened his mouth to speak, but Emerald interrupted. “What are you going to have us do?”
Flix was silent for a moment, “We need you to investigate another island during a Windstorm.”
Sky slammed his hands on his desk. “What?!” Ven almost became visible in response to the action, appearing for a moment as a blink of light.
“Not because we don’t know,” Flix ignored Sky, “but because we need you to understand what happens. What it looks like. While you are there, try to figure out what you can.”
Porter went pale. “And then?”
“I wish I knew.” Flix said, “I can-”
“Hold on,” Sky said, rising from his seat, “we’re just supposed to survive a Windstorm in the middle of nowhere?”
Silence.
“There are others I want to bring to your aid. Mostly Windcallers, to protect you inside the storm.”
“How many?”
“That, unfortunately, depends on how many are willing to volunteer. Windcallers can be difficult to work with.”
“Why are they allowed to volunteer, while we are all just forced?” Emerald glared at Flix.
“Because unlike the Windcallers, you are the only other people in Windspire who are qualified to help.”
“So how many Windcallers are willing?”
Flix froze, then reluctantly, spoke.
“Just one.”
“Bah!” Emerald threw her hands into the air. “It’s suicide!”
“I’m afraid we don’t have any other choice!”
“You’re just going to have us go to our deaths!”
Flix started to respond, but Porter spoke first.
“When do we have to go?” He was quiet.
Flix took a deep breath, and spoke solemnly. “The next Windstorm happens in three days. We’re sending you out in three days.”
The room fell silent. None of them dared say it.
Worlds below! Two Windstorms so close?
Emerald drew in a deep breath.
Three days.
As always, let me know what you think!
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So, in TLPL, I said Chapter 3 tends to be one of my weakest opening chapters regardless of the story, but I think I pulled it together for these last bits. Feel free to share any and every thought!
Chapter 3
Windstorms were big events for many reasons. The most obvious one, Winter decided, was the sheer danger if one was caught in a Windstorm unprepared.
The storms were surges of wind powerful enough to rearrange the world itself. Windcallers were tasked with fighting the winds using their unique abilities. Winter was one of those people. The storm today was brutal, and she was exhausted. She lumbered through the streets as several Avarians stepped out to get their first glimpse of the new landscape.
That was the second important part. Windstorms rearranged the skies, shifting the islands into new landscapes. Eagerly coming to see the new world was simply a habit for nearly all Avarians now.
However, Winter had seen enough of the outside. Her job was to stand outside in the cursed storms, and use her power, the supposedly blessed ability to control the winds, to fight against the Windstorms.
And even once everything returned to normal, her job wasn’t done. She sighed, folding her arms and pressing onward toward the Windcaller’s Barracks.
As she walked, her head turned toward the central tower of the city. A vibrant green banner lowered from this. The mark of claiming from Valorhold.
The third and final thing that made Windstorms so special. The new landscape meant new kingdom borders.
Thus, several Avarians waited eagerly to see the answer to the question: Which Kingdom would claim them first?
Winter didn’t have time to see the answer, though she still couldn’t help but wonder as well. The Five Palaces often provided many different types of aid to their territory. But, as per her assignment as a Windcaller, she had to first travel to the Barracks for a death report.
She wasn’t thrilled to arrive in the building. The Windcaller’s Barracks were cramped, even with the sparse number of Windcallers that gathered there.
The Master, a crooked man with silvery hair, already stood at the front, on a slightly raised stone platform to report the names of the dead.
He began listing them. Winter liked the man, he was straight to the point, and seemed to understand how dreadful these meetings were.
There weren’t very many names today, only two. In unison, each person, Winter included, paid their respects to the fallen Windcallers. It was painfully slow, but Winter felt it was important.
However, after it was over, Winter left the building to do the thing she found best about Windstorms.
A much deserved rest.
* * *
Emerald watched them raise the vibrant red banner of Ashkeep. Of all of the kingdoms it could have been, Emerald was least sure about what their support would look like this time.
That was a good thing. Ashkeep was adaptable, and willing to support whenever able, even if they were unpredictable.
It had taken a day for Windspire to be found by Ashkeep’s Envoy, a young scout named Flix. Practical as ever, the man had only traveled alone and with very little supplies.
Sky stood beside Emerald on the balcony entrance. The two of them watched the banner climb the walls of the tower.
Days felt bright. A quick scan around the Windspire landscape had confirmed that foraging would become much easier for Emerald in the future.
Things were going very well, Emerald decided. Aia had decided to calm down with her judgement, Sky was getting closer to a breakthrough in his grapple design, and Porter…
Well, Porter was the same as ever. An unusual boy who had somehow managed to avoid earning his powers.
Nearly every Avarian had a power of some sort. Crystalblooded were born with them, as were Windcallers.
Shifters like Sky were rarer, having learned them through unique talent and connection to their bird spirit.
Worldweavers, those with powers over flame, stone, or lightning, were the most common. Somehow, Porter had managed to avoid every single one.
Emerald frowned. Such a strange boy.
* * *
Sky hadn’t been expecting company, but he was sure as the winds that he’d heard a knock at the door.
He waited to hear another set of knocking.
For a moment, silence. He almost turned back to the grapple.
The knocking returned.
Sky nearly jumped. His flinch caught Ven’s attention, and he started to glow brighter.
“No, no.” Sky said reassuringly. “Not that.”
Ven returned to his normal soft glow. Apologies, I mistook it for an attempt to flee.
“Just panic,” Sky said with a slight chuckle. Powerful though they were, a bird form could overreact to sudden emotions.
He turned toward the door. The knocking returned.
“Coming!” Sky called. He hurried toward the door, quickly brushing stray feathers from his dark hair. A very quick, and equally ineffective way to try and look presentable. He pulled the door open, just a crack.
Ashkeep’s Envoy stood outside.
He wore a simple red vest and white shirt, and tipped his hat to Sky as he opened the door.
Sky stiffened. The man smiled.
“Warm greetings! I was told I could find an inventor here?”
“That,” Sky said slowly, “That would be me, er… sir.”
The man - Sky had heard his name was Flix - furrowed his brow slightly, scanning Sky once more. Then, the smile returned. “Well! I can’t say I was expecting somebody of such a young age.” He said with a chuckle.
Sky gave a nervous smile. “Come in!” He gestured toward the hallway.
Flix stepped through the doorway, as Sky turned and hurriedly tried to pick up some of the clutter throughout the entryway.
“So! Down to business.” Flix said, “Do you have…” he paused, looking at Sky again. “Do you have parents?”
Sky shook his head. “We’re all just orphans here. The closest person to a caretaker we have is Emerald.”
Flix raised an eyebrow. “We?”
“Me and Porter,” Sky said, nodding. “We’re brothers.”
“And Emerald?”
“Our cousin.” Sky said, reluctant. “Not to offend, but why are you here?”
Flix chuckled, removing his hat and revealing light blonde hair. “Ah, yes. It is a very important matter, one Ashkeep has been concerned with for a very, very long time.”
“That being?” Sky prodded.
“Galeshards!” Flix said dramatically, “Crystals that sustain all life here in the Shattered Skies.”
“And what do you want me for?”
Flix paused, turning toward him.
“I don’t just need you. I need your brother, and cousin, too. I just… didn’t really know that yet. It’s a… dire situation. Never have I ever found three capable people in the same household, you see.”
“And what do you need us for?” Sky raised an eyebrow.
“Curious, aren’t we?” Flix said with a smirk. “I suppose that makes sense. Our situation here, however, is something I need to tell all three of you at once.”
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Just a Short Story that I work on every now and again:
Part 1
“The man called himself Mordelin. Bringer of Shadows.”
If there was one thing Elena knew best, it was people. As the sun began to lower, more and more people began flocking to the Inn, some to enjoy themselves, others to find shelter and escape the rain. One person entered the building. Elena recognized this one. Ryllin was a frequent visitor, coming in for food, often taking large helpings of seared meat, nearly every night.
Another visitor entered the tavern, this one was in a crisp tunic, and neat cloak, kept free of dirt and mud. His eyes immediately darted toward the fire. Elena guessed that he was simply there to find shelter from the raging storm. Her guess was proven correct as he walked toward the blazing hearth.
Elena drummed her fingers on the table. Not much work right now, the only thing to do was read the faces of the customers, keeping hidden and silent as she did so.
A shadow in the windows suggested that another person was approaching the building. The door swung open loudly, causing Elena to flinch.
Lightning flashed as the man entered the building. His stride was slow. Heavy. His gaze was sharp and calculating, and one hand rested on a sword at his side. Elena immediately understood two things about this man. One, he was not an ordinary customer.
Two, it seemed far too easy to end up on the wrong side of his blade.
He approached the counter quickly. Everything about his appearance said that he was up to something, it wasn’t kind to ask, however.
“Can I help you?” Elena asked, hiding all traces of uncertainty from her voice. Best to treat all visitors the same.
The man spoke quietly, voice hoarse. “A room. One night.” He dropped a silver coin onto the table.
Elena nodded, gently sliding the coin into her hand. “Right this way.” She grabbed a key and started toward the stairs. The man followed close behind her wordlessly. Elena didn’t bother to try and start a conversation. People like him didn’t talk.
That guess was proven wrong as Elena showed the man to his room, however. His voice seemed clearer as he spoke this time. More confident.
“May you have the wind's favor.” He said, bowing slightly as he thanked her. “Do you know where I can find a person by the name of Elrisk Swiftthorne?”
Elena nodded. “Elrisk? He lives on the edge of the forest. He’s a woodsman. Says he’s seen things, a creature. Some people think he’s crazy. Some believe him.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And you?”
“I think there is something out there, only the Winds know what it actually is.”
The man smiled. “Altirin bless you. Truly.” He bowed again respectfully.
Who was this man? He seemed nothing like the person she saw downstairs. Elena nearly asked, but held back. It wasn’t her place to pry.
“Why do you ask?” She said instead. Nothing wrong with knowing where a person was going, if they were fine with saying it.
“You will know soon.” The man said, speaking with a slight smile. “Hurry along now, you must be busy.” He hurried her out of the room.
“Wind’s favor you.” He said with a reassuring nod, before closing the door behind Elena.
Elena stood for a few moments. What had just happened? That man was strange, to say the least.
Starting down the stairs, Elena found herself lost in thought. She’d almost forgotten that she was supposed to be watching the crowds.
She couldn’t help but think about that person. He was somebody Elena couldn’t read. Nothing about him was truly what it seemed. That was something Elena hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Altirin help that one.
* * *
The golden leaves of the early autumn blew in the wind across the large courtyard of the mage’s tower. The tower’s spires of golden radiance hung above the trees visible from every nearby horizon. The crowd had already begun to gather around the outer wall.
Today that hero earned his blessing. Even the thought made Alkir frown. His mother had always told him that the town of Ralkos was strong as it was. That statement was proven correct when it became important enough that a mage had come to bless the place with their presence.
And now they hired help? That “hero” was nothing more than a greedy mercenary fighting for gold.
Their trust was better placed in any other type of person, but still crowds gathered as Alkir watched from the distant window.
Alkir immediately fought the thought away. Velia warned him that such assumptions could be dangerous. For him, being the mage’s apprentice, such emotions could be fatal if not kept under control.
His thought was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. They were soft, almost impossible to hear without the Magics that enhanced his senses.
It was strange how those magics worked. Alkir’s senses were better, but he also understood what it sounded like without them.
“The town of Ralkos is nearly saved.” Velia said with a relieved tone. Alkir turned to see her approaching slowly, brown hair pulled into a long braid, reflecting golden light as it came into the sun, eyes shifting as if a literal fire burned behind them. The mage wore a ceremonial dress today, with thin strips of light fabric that shifted even without the winds.
“The town of Ralkos should be able to save itself.” Alkir muttered bitterly.
“Caution, apprentice.” Velia said with a glare. “The magic will destroy you if you hold on to such emotions. It is not wrong to require help, nor is it wrong to do something alone. I will see that Ralkos is helped, one way or another.”
“I apologize, Velia.” Alkir said, lowering his head in shame. “I have not yet mastered my own emotions.”
She looked forward, out toward the rising sun and the small village. “The key is not to avoid them, it’s to learn to know what is truly important. The rest will fix itself for you.”
“And how do I do that?”
“I can’t say.” Velia admitted. “There isn’t a set path for each person of Altirin. Otherwise there would be no rich, nor poor.”
“I understand.” Alkir said.
Velia let out a long breath, before standing straighter and clasping her hands in front of her. “Ready yourself, apprentice. The winds are blowing. He comes in only moments.”
She turned quickly and began walking away.
Alkir grunted in defeat, and followed her to the main gates.
Guards stood at the glittering doors, pushing them open as they approached. The Sacred Fountain came into view as the gateway opened, its bright waters flowing into a large stone basin dug into the ground.
Behind the fountain stood him, wrapped in a dark cloak, with a sword at his waist, and dark, rugged hair. His gaze did not shift as they approached.
As they came to a standstill, crowds of people began gathering in a wide circle around the mage, her apprentice, and the hero.
After a short beat of silence, Velia stepped forward, as if on a staircase. She stepped through the air until she came to a hover above the top of the fountain. She raised both arms, the thin tassels on her wrists shifting with the wind as she did so.
“Today, Altirin has brought us a hero.” She began. “Today is the start of a new light upon the town of Ralkos!”
She looked down. “Hero, step forth.”
The man stepped to the edge of the fountain. Alkir considered drowning him in its waters. The magic shifted within him.
Velia produced a silvery bag of coins. “As a symbol of our gratitude, we give you these 50 gold pieces.”
The man accepted the coins. Alkir gritted his teeth. The man truly was consumed by greed.
“Now, I give you the blessing of Ralkos. We as a town will support you in your mission. We are honored to have you here. I give you the blessing of the Magics, I will accompany you if you require, my magic serves you. Lastly, I grant you the blessing of Altirin. May you best whatever dangers await you in the coming days, whether it be man, beast, or a creature of the ancient shadows.”
She raised her hands in front of her. Alkir grabbed his canteen and raised it to his lips. The next part was no longer important after the days of Shadow.
“Do you curse the name of Mordelin, the master of the shadows?”
“Yes.” The man answered quietly.
“Do you swear your assistance in the elimination of the Ancient Darkness and each fragment of its power that would pose harm to humankind?”
“I have taken the oaths of a Darkhunter, your Grace. I devote my life to this task.”
And to the gold you earn doing it. Alkir thought bitterly. The magic stirred again, and for a moment he forgot that the mage had continued speaking.
“The Lightstones appear only to those worthy of their glow, as a symbol of the blessings that I now give to you. They are a symbol of the oaths you take to help us, Hero.
“The Lightstones only appear to those who have seen the darkness itself, and defied it, those who not only receive, but freely give the favor of the Winds to others.”
The winds picked up. A faint shimmer appeared in Velia’s hands, slowly solidifying into a pure white crystal, translucent like a shard of glass, glowing brightly like the sun.
Alkir nearly choked. The crowd gasped, and Velia herself seemed surprised that the lightstone had actually appeared. No person had seen one for 50 years.
The Hero accepted the stone with reverence.
“We once again thank you for your service to our village, Hero. As is traditional, you may now tell us your name.” Velia said. A shadow appeared in the distance, flying closer and closer. If it weren’t for his improved sight, he wouldn’t have been able to tell what it was.
Alkir gasped, then heaved himself onto the fountain pedestal, and shoving Velia away. A sturdy arrow struck him in the side with incredible force.
He gasped for breath at the pain, and crashed into the water below. His vision swam, but he caught a glimpse of Velia, her face paled as she looked down at him. A man came to his side. Alkir couldn’t tell who.
Blackness began to swallow his vision. He let it take him as he was lifted from the fountain.
The world went quiet.
* * *
Elrisk returned home with a man Ira didn’t recognize. Ira had first seen them in the distance, while harvesting berries from the nearby bushes they kept close to the cabin. They were difficult to see through the thick trees of the Ralok forests.
Ira’s father was a woodsman. She had not thought he would be interested in seeing the hero’s blessing, even being the one to report the sightings of the beast. Father usually took little interest in such things recently.
She could barely hear their voices as they approached. Ira found herself listening as she worked. The stranger was speaking. “I’m concerned, old friend, you say you’ve seen a fragment of the shadow. Such is enough to worry me.”
“With good reason, friend.” Father’s voice. They were getting close.
“Yes, yes. However, I am especially concerned about that arrow. I have never seen a Primal Shadow intelligent enough to draw a bow, much less aim from such a distance.”
“You know it’s possible.”
That was answered with an annoyed grunt. “Don’t remind me, old friend. I am free of those days.”
“Then what do you suspect?”
The two came into full view, walking slowly toward the house. Ira immediately recognized her father, a strong man with a prominent scar along his right arm, short brown hair and dark blue eyes.
The other man was clad in a deep navy cloak, and brown tunic. He had an unkempt beard and dark hair streaked with silver. His eyes were a dull crimson, hardly noticeable even in the bright light.
“I suspect members of the Dark Guild.” Ira didn’t recognize the group, but the stranger spat the words as if it was something better left forgotten. She grabbed another berry, trying to pay attention to the harvest instead of the conversation. She found herself continuing to listen anyway.
“Didn’t they fall?” Elrisk spoke with a hushed tone. Ira was surprised that her Father seemed to also want to forget the group. Wasn’t he always so confident that the past should be remembered?
“I thought so,” The stranger continued, “but it is possible that they shattered. Split apart alongside the very shadows they followed so long ago.”
“This is dire news, friend.” Elrisk spoke darkly. Ira wasn’t sure if she had ever heard him speak in such a way. He was normally so bright, so hopeful.
But this “Arrow” they talked about? It had been years since anybody in Ralkos drew a weapon. If somebody got hurt, then that would be more than enough reason to be worried.
Worse, it didn’t seem like anybody in Ralkos was to blame. And somehow, somehow, it all connected to the beast Father saw deep in the Ralok.
Focus. She told herself. Just focus on what you’re doing. Ignore them. She plucked a handful of berries from the bush, then shifted to the next of the small shrubs.
“And what about those oaths you took at the Blessing Ceremony, friend?”
“They were very true, Elrisk. I understand that you are enjoying our reunion, but there are deep dangers at work, friend. I will destroy all shadows with dark intent, just as I swore to do.”
Elrisk chuckled at that. “Blunt as always, friend. You’ve changed little.”
They came to the doorstep of the house, Ira heard the footsteps pause.
“Ira!” It was Father’s voice. She winced at the call. “I’m sure you’ve heard us now. Come! I suppose this concerns you as much as it does us now.”
Ira rose, eager for some explanation. “Yes, father.” She followed them quickly inside the cabin.
“This is my youngest daughter, Ira.” Elrisk said. “Ira, this is my old friend--”
“Who would rather be focused on more important matters.” The hero cut in.
“You’ve changed very little.” Elrisk muttered.
They quickly explained what had happened, from the moment Elrisk requested that the hero come to help, until the attack at the Blessing. Ira felt herself begin to tremble.
“So what do we do?” She asked.
Elrisk grunted softly. “I know my friend well enough to know that his plan is to fight the thing.”
Ira started, but the hero held up a hand, her mouth hung open, ready to protest.
The hero looked at her, then to Father. “My blade is not powerful enough to slay a shadow on its own. I believe you understand where I’m going with this, friend?”
Father grinned. “We’ll need to stop at the blacksmith, I don’t have my weapon anymore.” Ira had no memory of her father wielding a weapon, maybe except for the old axe he used to chop trees.
“How long will that take?”
“Knowing Arryk?” Elrisk began, “Not too long.”
“Good.” The hero nodded. “Winds favor us.” Ira didn’t often hear that phrase.
Father made no comment on the Hero’s words, but instead grinned again. “Just like old times!”
That earned a smile from the hero. “Just like old times.”
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Okay, thanks to peer pressure (Is that the word for it?) I'm posting chapter 2 of Shattered Skies. I do not have a chapter 3 written yet, so it'll be a little bit before I can release more.
Chapter 2
Finally out of view from civilization, Emerald was free to let go of the facade that her grapple even worked. The freedom as she roamed the skies would have been welcoming.
If it weren’t for the increasingly obvious signs of an oncoming Windstorm. The winds were blowing sharper, more consistent. She even noted a few of the clouds below starting to darken.
She tried not to think too hard of it. The Windstorm was still distant, though Sky was probably worried sick.
However, he did tend to know ways to help him get his mind off of something. For him, it was probably a good puzzle. For Emerald, it was this. Freedom, and adventure.
Aia drifted by in the wind.
“Feeling refreshed?” Emerald asked, as she strolled toward the edge of an island.
Yes. I’ve always liked it better out here than in the stuffy city anyways.
Emerald formed a bond with a distant crystal, pulling herself toward the island with incredible precision.
She landed roughly, skidding across the grass and kicking up a small cloud of dust.
Being a crystalblood meant she didn’t need any devices to connect with the Galeshards. Additionally, she could even manage bindings that weren’t accessible to common populations.
Unfortunately, they were also the same powers that broke the world. For that, she had to hide them as well as possible.
She knelt in front of a bush, plucking small red berries off of the gray branches. Aia flitted down onto the branches of the bush, impatiently picking at a few berries herself, to no avail.
Why do you even enjoy doing this? There are better things you could do, each of them involve travelling the world.
Emerald grunted. “I’ve already tried a few of those. Didn’t go so well.”
Aia paused. And I get the punishment. What happened that day was your fault.
Emerald turned away, kicking the bush. “Shut up.” Memories of the battlefield haunted her mind.
The winds flared. The Windstorm was soon.
Probably have to get going soon, killer. Aia said, I need you to survive so I can keep getting back at you for stealing me.
“Yeah right,” Emerald said, launching off the island. “You were given to me.”
I liked my old master better.
Refusing to respond, Emerald landed against the side of a crystal spire. She pushed into her powers to find the negative parts of the crystal. The energy that hated her.
She found it, and seized it. Instantly, the crystal repelled her into the air. Reverse bindings were risky, being one of the few bonds exclusive to a crystalblood, but they were incredibly useful in a pinch.
She soared through the air for a few moments, falling past several islands, before binding another Galeshard to swing her around the island, and back upward.
Another crystal served as a point for Emerald to readjust her course toward Windspire. She’d traveled in a relatively straight line outward, allowing her to easily find her way back.
As the city came into view, Emerald made sure to stop using any reverse bonds. She grabbed her mock grapple and imitated using it as she traveled the last distance to Windspire.
Once again, she slipped into the lie of her innocence, hiding her cursed powers.
She arrived in Windspire at shocking velocity, so much so that she instinctively pressed against the island’s prominent crystal spires, forming a reverse bond to slow her fall slightly.
She landed with a thud, sending a shock through her body.
Impressive. Aia said, You’re actually getting better with your powers. Only a few years too late to learn them.
Emerald snapped her pendant off, and stuffed it into her pouch with the berries. Aia vanished immediately.
She didn’t hate Aia, but skies! That felt good right now.
Windspire’s streets were crowded with people rushing to do last second errands before the sudden storm. Emerald wove through these crowds sloppily, making her way toward her home as fast as she could.
She passed by the center of Windspire, with a large foggy white crystal rising toward the skies. Sprays of water were thrown by the winds, and Emerald noted several people rushing to cover up the wells and sources of water, lest they lose the precious stuff, or the spray weaken the main Galeshard.
That thought was unnerving. Emerald had never experienced it, but she had heard several tales of cities that fell to the fiery Dead World below, all due to a decaying Galeshard. As she inspected Windspire’s own crystal, she was sickened to realize that it could have been faring better than it was.
Shuddering, Emerald continued onward, searching the looming buildings for her home. It was taking longer than she’d have liked. Even though Emerald lived there, it was easy to get disoriented when one left the town.
She spotted it across the street as the first gusts of the Windstorm truly began.
Again, skipping the ladder to get up, she used a binding to reach the top faster. She burst through the door, closing it quickly, and taking a deep breath.
Sky poked his head out from the workshop. Relief washed across his face as he stepped forward.
The island trembled beneath the wind.
“Back just in time.” Emerald said triumphantly.
“Probably shouldn’t have left.” Sky said flatly.
Emerald started through the entryway. “Probably not.” She admitted, “But nothing too bad came from it.”
Sky narrowed his eyes skeptically, but nodded. A quick check through the window confirmed that the Windstorm was finally beginning.
“You’ll want to brace yourself!” Porter called.
As if on cue, the building shook violently, causing both Emerald and Sky to stumble.
The Windstorm took full hold, and the island began to launch itself in every direction, like a feather in a light breeze.
Emerald lowered herself to the ground.
“Get down!”
It was an unnecessary warning, but Emerald found the need to say it anyway. Windstorms had always been… hard on her.
The island shook violently. Hopefully not a collision.
Emerald fought to stay still. All it took was one reckless action and any one of them could be thrown around the workshop.
A wrong move could very easily kill any of them.
It's a hard aspect of Worldbuilding to introduce, those Windstorms...
Feel free to share thoughts!
--EXTRAS--
I have/had four pet birds. (Three are dead now.) These birds were named Emerald, Sky, Snow, and Porter
Also! Got some concept art in!
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A bit short, as it is a new opening from what was in the first draft.
Chapter 1
Emerald eagerly slung her foraging pack over her shoulders. It had been far too long since she’d last ventured from Windspire, and she couldn’t help but be excited to get out into the world.
She double checked her supplies. The grapple was clipped to the outside of the leather satchel, and bandages in a special pocket on the inside. Those were especially important. Without them she could be forced to leave her crystalline blood exposed for any to see. That was, if she got cut at any point.
Lastly, she grabbed her glittering pendant, and clipped it around her neck.
And a good morning to you, thief. A voice said, its source not yet visible. As Emerald neared the door, she saw Aia manifest in the form of a shimmering green parrot, resting her insubstantial talons upon Emerald’s shoulder.
“Nice to hear you’re in a good mood, Aia.” Emerald noted with a smile, earning an annoyed flare of Aia’s tail, but the spirit said nothing.
Emerald chuckled, then opened the door out onto the balcony entrance to her home. A ladder hung to help with descent, but Emerald instead focused on a crystal that hung above her doorframe.
She unclipped her grapple, then dropped from the entry platform, using the crystal as a binding point to form a weak bond and slow her fall. The tether, though invisible, pulled the grapple toward the crystal like a magnet.
Thanks to the binding, she landed softly on Windspire’s cobbled roads, then started for the edge of the island.
Because of the limited space that they had to build on the island, Windspire architects had instead chosen to build upward, creating elaborate and delicate bridges across structures and stores. From Emerald’s current height, these tall, looming buildings almost seemed threatening. As if they were trying to make Emerald feel small and meaningless.
Fortunately, she could handle it when she noticed the people who walked alongside her. They were nowhere near as tall. Though Emerald, being only 19 years old, was shorter than most of them still.
Aia fluttered along the path as Emerald approached the edge of Windspire, the bird spirit trailed a stream of deep green light, like paint upon the fabric of an unseen canvas, visible only to Emerald.
These fading trails led Emerald to the edge of Windspire, outside the city walls. She approached the edge of the island, and looked down at infinity. Or, what she could only assume was infinity, as her gaze was obstructed by the rolling clouds, always present beneath each floating island in the Shattered Skies.
Emerald stepped back, then located a somewhat distant island with a crystal spire she could grapple with.
Grinning, Emerald ran forward and jumped.
* * *
“Today?” Sky exclaimed. “The Windstorm is coming today?!”
He exchanged a nervous look with his brother. Porter shied away from his gaze, though. He’d heard of the wild storms coming unexpectedly, but only having a few hours to prepare? It was almost unheard of!
“You’re sure about this?” Sky demanded through a spike of anxiety.
The Windcaller nodded firmly, then marched away to inform others.
“Is Emerald still here?”
In the corners of his eyes, Sky noted Porter shaking his head. “I saw her leave this morning. I think she’d notice a Windstorm before it got too dangerous though.”
Sky nodded. His brother had always managed to keep a clear head. Usually his calmness would rub off on Sky for the duration of the situation. He let that start to happen now.
After all, Porter was right. Sky’s cousin was one of the most observant people he knew. She would be back home safely, no doubt.
Well, some doubt.
He sighed, stepping into the workshop that he called home, alongside Porter and Emerald. He knelt at a low desk, which was clustered with diagrams of various crystal devices.
Ven appeared into view, curiously eyeing the diagrams. Sky selected one that Porter had made of Emerald’s grapple. Sky had annotated various mechanisms that allowed the thing to function, but despite all efforts, he couldn’t find a way to improve the design yet.
His bird looked closer at the diagram. You’re still working on this? Ven asked inquisitively.
“I’m sure I can find something to help Emerald with. At the very least, I could help other foragers a bit.” He frowned, picking up a pen and scribbling a few more notes on the function of the grapple.
The grapples have worked fine for several foragers, Ven noted skeptically. Sky ignored him, focusing on the parchment. He could understand how they worked, each crystal’s role in the intricate design.
How did he stop them from wearing out?
The main danger was water, he’d decided. Water had always been known to weaken Galeshard Crystals, and it was common enough that it caused the need for several replacement and repairs of the grappling tools.
The outside, he’d noted, was covered with a thin layer of protective coating that reduced the damage, but this too would wear out, and one would have to reapply the coat often.
Unless he could find some way to make the coat apply itself? It wouldn’t be perfect, but it could help, assuming he redesigned the base grapple in addition.
The project seems overwhelmingly ambitious, Sky. Ven warned.
Sky groaned softly. “I know, but it gives me something to keep my mind on if nothing else.” He looked out the window toward the islands that slowly shifted in the wind. “I just wish Emerald would hurry home.”
Worlds below! Where was she?
Subject to revision.
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This is a test prologue I'm writing for my story - Whispers of the Ancient Stars.
Whether or not this will make it into the final book is undetermined.
Anyway, here it is! Let me know what you think!
Prologue:
Broken Gods
If only humanity could have understood just how fragile their gods' powers were.
Zelias roamed the streets of Erylen in the dark. Something was here, though what, they didn’t fully understand.
Powerless indeed. Even after millennia spent as a god, Zelias felt weak. The three Great Souls, of which Zelias was a part, each wandered the kingdom streets, in search of a threat.
They knew not what that threat was, nor what could be done. A great soul could not perceive the mortal world, any better than the mortals themselves.
Zelias raised their draconic hands to the alley wall, scales and claws meeting stone. The kingdom was built upon their own grave, and Zelias could not help but feel sentimental to again roam these grounds.
The place where Zelias, after a lifetime of rejection, finally found acceptance in their final moments.
A tear dropped to the ground. Grief. Zelias could still feel it. This was good. Gods should care for their world.
This city was dying. The trade routes that sustained it and the neighboring lands had been destroyed, whether it was by man or natural forces.
However, Gods shouldn’t have been broken. Zelias was nothing if not broken.
Focus! Zelias told themself. They scanned the streets. The creature had been here. Zelias could feel that much. The signs of a powerful wraith, unnatural blackness spilling across the ground like blood, were only visible to a spirit’s eyes.
Such a dominant wraith should not have been able to manifest without the notice of the Great Souls, and the seal was strong. The suffering of Zelias and their companions was enough to ensure that the raging souls of the dead were contained.
The trail led down the alleys. Zelias followed them. There did not seem to be any pattern to where they led, until Zelias, after several hours of following, found the creature that they hunted.
Rayah, unsurprisingly, had reached it first. Zelias’ companion stood stiff, clad in bright, flowing robes adorned with swirling patterns, reminiscent of Zelias’ old blade. She stood, watching with horror at a mortal man, who hunched over a barrel, shaking and suffering alone in the dark.
To the Souls, it seemed to be born of dark blood. The Wraith was still bonded to a living creature?
“They are suffering.” Rayah said, “I tried to listen. This person only cries in agony.”
“How?” Zelias whispered, “How did this happen?”
“I don’t know.” Rayah admitted, “There seems to be no trace of anything other than this dark creature. I… I don’t believe there is anything we could do.”
“We could find a champion.” Zelias said, “Have a mortal come to drive a blade through their heart. Surely it would be a mercy.”
“No.” Rayah said, “We let it die on its own. It is not yet dire enough for a Champion. For now, I say we let it live. That is…”
“Unless it manages to pose a threat.”
Rayah nodded.
The sun began to rise, exposing the fragile souls to mortal eyes. Rayah looked toward Zelias, then toward the broken person. She faded, returning to the star that was her home.
Zelias watched her leave, then again glanced at the suffering creature. They did not find grief this time. As Zelias looked at this creature, they found only hatred.
That was a clear sign that they had to leave. If Zelias let themselves betray the other two, and had a Champion slay this creature… It would not end well. Hatred from a god would only end in catastrophe.
In an act of restraint, Zelias left the suffering creature to die in the streets.
A bit short, as it's a relatively new part of the story. Let me know your thoughts!
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