Chronicles Of Redemption (Novel in progress) - Writers Forum

MrPenguin589 · 12-20-2006, 12:42 PM

Okay, so this is sorta similar to my other project (Potato Ninjas!) except this one is set in a different world, has different characters, a way different plot, and none of the comedic influences.
I have a plot written out, and I think I will make this into a series as opposed to a single book. The story is much to long for a single book.
I could abridge it, of course, but where's the fun in that?
So here's the first part, the prolouge.
In this one, I am being deliberately vague and not telling exactly what's going on. It's meant to set the mood and get a certain amount of the backstory into the mix.
But yeah, here it is.

Prolouge: The Bitter Beginning

A club flashed out of the dark sky and hit Ono on the back.

Ono stumbled forward, tripped, and fell. As the club was drawn back to swing again, Ono rolled to the side, leapt to his feet, and swung his staff in an upwards direction, knocking the club out of the hand of the bandit who had been attacking him.

The bandit growled and threw himself at Ono, tackling him to the ground. They rolled in the cold, damp dirt, trying to get the better of the other. Ono finally managed to roll off of the bandit. He swung his boot out and broke the bandit's nose. Blood spurted from it as the bandit cried out, swinging at Ono.

Ono quickly got back on his feet and kicked the bandit, repeatedly and savegely. The bandity managed to grab Ono's ankle and trip him back down to the dirt, where the melee continued.

High above them, the full moon was covered by thick, heavy rainclouds that threatened to open up at any moment and drench the already wet dirt below.
Ono was back on his feet, the staff back in his hands. He looked around desperately, wondering where the bandit had disappeared to. He looked in all directions as he took hesitant steps backwards toward the village.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared almost directly overhead, and Ono had a glimpse of not one, but three bandits hiding in a ditch not far from him. The bandits must have known Ono saw them, because they leapt out of the ditch and quickly surrounded Ono, who had his staff raised in defense.

The bandits circled Ono, who spun around, trying to look at all of them at the same time. One of them, the one Ono decided was the leader, began taunting Ono.

"Come on, Ono," the bandit said, smirking, "you know you can't hope to take on all of us. You may be strong, but you're not that strong." The bandit threw back his head, laughing.

"I am only doing what is right!" Ono shouted at the defiantly. "I am protecting my home! Begone, or I will slay all of you!"

At this, all the bandits burst out laughing, and stopped circling.

"That overconfidence will get you killed one day," the leader said, "and that day might be today."

"If you think you can kill me, the come on!" Ono shouted at them. "Attack me! I'm ready to kill all of you!"

The bandit leader smirked again. "I wouldn't be surprised if this was how confident you were back when you were a bandit yourself, eh? Back when you stold from us?"

Ono bared his teeth, but said nothing.

"Did you think we would forget?" The leader asked. "Did you think we'd never notice?"

"I hate you." Ono growled, holding his staff in a fighting stance.

"It's a shame," the leader said with mock sadness, "you could have helped us again. But I guess you want death."

With a nod from the leader, all three bandits pounced, swinging their assorted weapons at Ono, attempting to bring the man down once and for all.

***

Ono was running, breathing heavily. His right arm was clutching his side, where a great bloody gash was bleeding all over the ground, making a nice trail for the bandits to follow.

Luckily for Ono, the bandits had become confused and were probably still a few miles back, looking for him. As long as they didn't see the blood trail, Ono was fine.

A few minutes later, Ono slupmed down against a tree, his staff sliding out of his left hand. He clutched at it again, and raised it to the wound. He felt pain, and then, relief.

An hour later, he was asleep.

Small sprinkles finally began to fall from the ominous clouds above, and soon become fatter and heavier, and lightning would flash across the sky intermittently. Ono was dry under the shelter of the great tree he had stumbled upon.

And, for the moment, he was safe.

MrPenguin589 · 12-20-2006, 12:46 PM

And here is chapter one.
It is much shorter than any other chapters I have done in the PN! story, so it won't be as much of a commitement to read.
I am considering making it longer, though.

Chapter One: The Writing Writer

Tensai sat in the back of the classroom, writing a story he had been working on for a few months. At the front of the class, the teacher was pacing back and forth and talking about proper writing techniques, as well as how to keep a story interesting while using as much imagery as possible. Tensai was listening while he wrote, but only to a certain extent. He always did this, and he always did fine on the quizes and the tests.

His teacher had thought at first that Tensai wasn't listening at all, but decided that if Tensai didn't want to pay attention and fail the class, then that was his problem. The teacher wasn't going to waste time talking to him privately.

A few weeks into the year, however, and the teacher knew otherwise. He just figured Tensai was good at multi-tasking. He was right.

Tensai stopped writing abruptly and looked around at the room. It was not large, but it was not small. It was a rectangle in shape, and was fourty feet long, and twenty feet wide. The roof was slanting upwards at about a 15 degree angle, rising toward the front of the class.

The spot where the teacher stood was on a raised platform about a foot above the floor. This, combined with the roof, gave most students a peculiar feeling that the room was tilted backwards a little ways. After a while, however, most became used to the room and hardly noticed the unusual shape and angle.

The walls were a smooth, creamy white color, and every ten feet, there was an ornate pillar attached to the wall that went from the floor to the roof. The pillars served no purpose in supporting the building, but were merely for decoration.

The windows were massive floor-to-ceiling things that were a single pane, and couldn't be opened. Of course, they never needed to be opened. The temperature was always perfect inside the building.

Tensai looked back down at his paper and began writing again, his long brown hair falling down almost to the desk.

He was one of the tallest people in his school, but he was also one of the weakest. Tensai never worked out or played any sports, as many of the other students did. His parents always told him that he didn't need to be the strongest physically, because he was incredibly strong mentally.

Because of his physique, he was often picked on by other kids, but he had grown used to this. He didn't much mind anymore, even though inside he was always furious at this injustice. But of course, quiet Tensai would never say anything to the teachers. Why would he? He knew it would only cause more trouble.

Tensai heard, out of the corner of his ear (if you will) the teacher saying that the students needed to pack up their things and move on to their next class.
Tensai had already known it was time to go, and was the first out the door. He had noticed on the first day that when it was time to go, the light shining in through the windows had just touched the edge of the teacher's raised platform, as well as the first column of desks.

As he walked trough the hall toward the gate that lead to the outside, Tensai was wrapped in his thoughts about his story. It was about a town in the middle of nowhere that was shrouded in a thick fog. The people inside didn't know that there was anything beyone the fog, as nobody that ever ventured out into it ever returned. He was just wondering what sort of storyline he could make about it. Perhaps a group of kids manage to wander through the fog and into the outside, and find out what there is?

Tensai toyed with the idea as he walked quietly out of the gate and started heading home. He had no class after his writing class, and was free to go home.

He walked down the street, heading south. He dragged his thoughts away from his story and looked around.

It was a sunny day, and there was not a single cloud in the sky. The sky was a pale blue, and as Tensai watched, a flock of large birds flew by, their shadows stretched and distorted on the ground far below. As they flew over the horizon and out of sight, Tensai's thoughts went with them. He really wished he were that free. As free as a bird, able to roam to land as it wishes, not chained down by appointments of schools or a home.

Tensai looked back forward and started walking again. He wasn't sure when he stopped, but he figured it was when he saw the birds. He had always liked animals and nature, and wondered if he would ever live in the wilderness. His parents always told him that there were dangerous things out in the woods and the meadows, but Tensai didn't care.

He examined the shops along the side of the road as he walked past them. Each and every one was bright and colorful, meant to catch the eye of any prospective customers. Having so many lined up right next to each other seemed to give them the opposite effect. The eye became used to seeing bright colors in this area, and didn't notice them as much.

Tensai's white robe fluttered behind him as he walked. There was a light wind blowing down the street, and Tensai liked the feeling of a breeze in his face. It made him feel more alive. It made him feel like he was flying. Flying, like a bird...

His thoughts drifted away, and before he knew it, he was in front of his house. He looked at it, sighing. It was a massive house, three stories high, and had more rooms than Tensai could count. He figured he had only been in about half of the house in all his fifteen years of living there.

Part of the reason was that his room was very close to the entrance. Down the entry hall, up the stairs on the right, and first door on the left. He didn't need to go anywhere else, except to the dining room or the kitchen or the bathroom, but all of those were centrally located along the main hallway. Except for his bathroom, that is, which was directly linked to Tensai's room by a single door.

Another part of the reason he had only seen perhaps half of the house was that his father had many private rooms, in which he kept things Tensai didn't know about. And nor did Tensai want to know about them. His father was a buisinessman, and Tensai knew that the things he would find in the private rooms wouldn't interest him. They would most likely be trinkets and toys and things like that that other rich people buy for the simple pleasure of having.

Tensai walked through the front doors, down the hall, up the flight of stairs on the right, and then into the first room on his left, his eyes looking at the marble floor the whole time.

He flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes. Perhaps the story would work... but instead of kids venturing out, there would be an old abandoned railroad yard. The people would not know what it is, and avoid it. Then, one day, a train would pull in, but there would be nobody on board. But after that? Tensai wasn't sure...

Tensai drifted silently off to sleep, unaware that a few doors down, a powerful object is hidden. It is an object that holds incredible power, and can destroy a house without half trying. It was a possession of his father's that his father never looked at anymore. He was afraid of it.

Afraid of what it might do.

Storm Eagle · 12-20-2006, 05:43 PM

pretty good, but I have a few complaints.

1. I see an absence of detail. It is alright, but I don't like having a vague story.

2. I don't like you ending the entire chapter by pretty much summing it up in one sentence.

Raging_Hopeful · 12-20-2006, 06:02 PM

Do you hate adjectives? Well your adjective-hating self should really considering giving them a try.

It'll bring your story to life and paint a picture for the reader. Right now, the "movie in my head" plays in grayscale.

Personally I didn't care for the Prologue beginning. You spent too much time explaining action and it felt like the scene was in slow-motion. Make your sentences concise and focus on verbs to keep it moving.

Keep writing!

Linz

Crash_Tomas · 12-20-2006, 06:06 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Raging_Hopeful

Do you hate adjectives? Well your adjective-hating self should really considering giving them a try.

It'll bring your story to life and paint a picture for the reader. Right now, the "movie in my head" plays in grayscale.

Personally I didn't care for the Prologue beginning. You spent too much time explaining action and it felt like the scene was in slow-motion. Make your sentences concise and focus on verbs to keep it moving.

Keep writing!

Linz

I concur...

mashowasho · 12-21-2006, 06:01 AM

I've only read the prologue so far , but I thought it was nice how you lead us straight into the action. There’s a few word-slips here and there but not so bad otherwise. You mention Ono carrying a staff; I wonder if he is a wizard?In terms of your writing style, I haven’t read enough to gauge whether or not I like it, but it seems fine to me.

Keep going!

MrPenguin589 · 12-21-2006, 05:11 PM

Wow, I didn't even notice that I wasn't being very adjective-freindly.
Oops.
I'll try to spruce it up a bit.
And the prolouge is necessary in order to get part of the backstory down, and so that the character contrasts of when Ono appears in chapter two will be apparent.
I can't do all that right now, though, as I'm leaving to go on vacation in an hour or so.
But I'll work on it while I'm away and modify it when I come back.

mashowasho · 12-22-2006, 12:16 PM

Quote:

Tensai drifted silently off to sleep, unaware that a few doors down, a powerful object is hidden. It is an object that holds incredible power, and can destroy a house without half trying. It was a possession of his father's that his father never looked at anymore. He was afraid of it.

Beware of tense changes in that last paragraph.
I was also going to say that at times you seem to describe things in a little too much detail, like slopes at 15 degrees? But I figured maybe that's just how Tensai is, right?

MrPenguin589 · 12-26-2006, 10:09 PM

Well, as far as the describing everything, yes, that's how Tensai is.
He's a writer, and therefore tries to note everything that he can.

MrPenguin589 · 12-29-2006, 09:26 PM

Well, I've been doing a little work, and now I've got two more chapters for you guys.

Chapter Two: "... free like the birds."

The following day found Tensai again walking home from school. He passed down the same quiet street, past between the same colorful shops, and into the yard of the same massive house. This time, however, there was a person standing in yard, a few yards outside the door.

The person was tall and slender, with the body of a fighter. The long, dark hair was very much similar to Tensai's. His clothes were elegant yet workable, and he had an air of importance and efficiency about him. The man had his head inclined, and was looking upwards toward the sky.

Tensai approached him and then turned and followed his gaze. High above, Tensai saw a large flock of birds milling about, swooping and diving, playing and fighting. Tensai smiled as he watched them. As often as he watched the birds, he never got tired of them. They always created stories in his mind. They were stories of hope and happiness, stories of freedom, stories that always turned out right in the end.

The man looked down at Tensai and smiled.

"You like the birds, don't you son?"

Tensai jumped slightly and turned his head to look into his father's pale green eyes. He had been lost in thought, and shaken from it by his father's abrupt question.

"Of course I do, father." Tensai said quietly, looking up at the birds again. "They are free and happy. They have no worries or cares. They go where they wish and do what the want."

Tensai's father nodded sagely. "I couldn't agree more. They are definitely fascinating."

There was a few moments of silence between the two. They both gazed happily at the birds, perfectly content with the world.

"I wish I were one of them." Tensai whispered. "I wish I were free. I wish I were free like the birds."

Tensai's father chuckled quietly. A light wind blew, and a few leaves skittered around his feet, across the grass, and down the almost empty street behind them.

"You are free, son." Tensai's father said. "You are more free than many people."

"I know, father," Tensai replied, "but I am not as free as the birds."

Tensai's father nodded again, and then turned and faced his son. His son, who was almost as tall as him. His son, whom he knew was a genius in the making. His son, whom he was more proud of than anything else.

Tensai's father opened his mouth to speak when something caught his eye. He closed his mouth and looked suddenly worried.

Tensai noticed this, and turned to follow his father's gaze. Down the street, two men stood outside of one of the colorful shops. The two appeared to be arguing about something, and neither looked particularly happy. Neither Tensai nor his father could hear what the two men were saying, as the wind was blowing the wrong way.

As Tensai watched the argument, it quickly escalated, and the two men were soon exchanging blows and shouting loudly. An occasional word could be heard now, but it was nothing but obscenities.

A small crowd gathereed to watch the men scuffle, and a few onlookers appeared to be making bets.

Tensai's father touched his son on the shoulder and steered his gently but firmly into the house. Tensai went obediently inside. He didn't much care to watch the fight.

Once inside, Tensai's father closed the door and sighed, looking at the marble floor.

"There are such barbarians in the world." He said quietly, sound rather sad. "I wish people didn't have to fight. I wish people were kind and all got along."

Tensai nodded. He understood, and agreed completely. He had nothing to say, however. His father has spoken both of their minds in one voice.

The sound of soft footsteps echoes lightly in the hall, tapping like small raindrops upon the expensive floor. A voice followed after it, drifting down the hallway like a melody.

"Ono." The voice called, and Tensai's father turned toward it. "There is a man here to see you."

Tensai looked up at his father and noticed an expression pass over his face, but it was gone as soon as it was there. But what expression was it? Tensai wondered. Could it have been fear?

No, Tensai reasoned, it could not be. My father is not afraid of anything.

...Was he?

"Thank you, Ekai." Ono said to his wife. "Tell him I'll be there in a moment."

Ekai nodded, her expression remaining the same. It was an expression of buissiness-like seriousness, but with a slightly sunnier disposition.

Tensai's father, Ono, turned back to his son, smiling. Any trace of the expression that had flashed across his face so quickly had been wiped clean.

"I have something for you, son." He said, reaching into his bag. It was a smallish bag that hung on Ono's belt, and had a drawstring that was typically tied off tightly. Tensai did not know what was inside the bag most of the time, and nor did he care. He had learned early on not to snoop or be nosy into other people's buisiness, and he stuck to the learning.

From the brown bag, Ono produced what appeared to be a small, ornate book. He handed it to Tensai, who took it willingly enough. One look at the cover of it was enought to see that it was not, in fact, a book, but rather a journal.

Tensai looked up at his father, smiling. He had a journal of sorts already, but he used it for everything. Tensai figured he would use this one for his stories, and the original solely for his schoolwork.

"Thank you, father." Tensai said, beaming. "I appreciate this gift."

Ono nodded, smiling. To see his son happy made him happy, and he was glad to dote upon him.

"Now, it seems I have to go talk to someone, so I will see you later, son."

Tensai nodded, and watched his father walk down the hall towards the double doors at the end. He noted how his father's footsteps seemed more hurried than usual, and had he seen that expression cross fleetingly across his father's face again before he left?

Tensai shook these thoughts off, and headed for his room. He was already thinking about how he was going to transfer what he had of his stories to the new journal. The thoughts about his father's troubled expressions faded quickly from Tensai's fast-paced mind, and sank into the darkness at the back of his subconscious, like a stone dropped into a dark pond from the hand of a curious child.

Two things did remain on his mind however, and he did not plan on banishing them anytime soon.

One part of his mind was thinking again about the birds. So free, so happy, so perfect. That train of thought lead off to wondering whether birds even could comprhend the thought of not being free, of being caged and gawked at.

The other part of his mind was still hovering around the scene out on the street. Why did people have to fight and be unhappy? Why couldn't people be nice to each other and not argue or curse or get angry and upset? Why couldn't they be free? Why couldn't they detach themselves, and be free... free like the birds?

MrPenguin589 · 12-29-2006, 09:27 PM

Chapter Three: "Why me?"

A week later, the weather was turning slightly colder as the seasons turned from fall to winter. The trees were then almost all bare, except for a few which still retained a few red and yellow leaves. The streets were beginning to fill up as more people began coming out to enjoy the final weeks before the rains began, a time where travel becomes near impossible, and only fit for the incredibly brave or the incredibly foolish.

The fallen leaves crunched under Tensai's boots as he walked home yet again from school. He now had to dodge the occasional careless person as he walked along the side of the wide stone road, but the walk is otherwise the same as usual. Same road, same shops, same house. Or so he thought.
The bright signs and cheerful slogans of the above said shops were finally doing their job, and were attracting crowds to them, beckoning them inside to buy whatever products happen to be sold there. The doors were kept closed whenever possible, in order to prevent any stray leaves from blowing inside, or simply to keep the heat in.

Tensai was not among the throngs of people who roamed the streets, looking for places to fret away their money on useless trinkets or food and drink. Tensai was only concerned with getting home and working on his story. He had an incredible breakthrough, and could hardly wait to write down his new ideas. He did not often forget his ideas, even if it was a day or two before he could write them down. His mind held onto many things at once, and often processed more than it's share at any given moment.

Tensai looed up into the sky, hoping to see a few birds, but his hopes were shattered. High above him, clouds drifted lazily about, once in a while crossing in front of the sun and darkening the land below for a moment or two. Tensai knew that in the following weeks, the clouds would thicken and bloat, preparing to rain upon the land, bringing life and death to the various creatures that live below.

Tensai sighed and looked back ahead of him. He noticed that many people were moving in the same direction as him down the street, and some looked to be in a big hurry. Tensai imagined the fight he had seen the previous week, and felt similtaneously sick and angry. Such stupid people! Why couldn't they just get along?

He continued walking for a moment in silence, and then suddenly found himself face-down on ground outside of a shop. Tensai quickly tried to get back on his feet, but fell over again. His second attempt got himself back on his feet, and he saw a person in front of him, running full-tilt down the street. Tensai rubbed his injured elbows, and began walking forward impatiently again, think about how stupid and careless some people could be. He was not in a good mood that day, and his self-restraint was just beginning to crack.

He looked straight ahead as he walked, wondering what all the fuss was about. He didn't see a fight of any sort ahead of him, but he did see something out of the ordinary...

Over the tops of the small shops, he saw a great pillar of smoke rising into the sky, being swept to backwards by the light wind. Everything clicked. The people were all running to the fire. But where, then, was the fire?
A terrible sense of foreboding filled Tensai up, and he broke into a jog. What if the fire was near his house? He needed his journal, it had all his stories in it! He couldn't lose those!

He sped his jog to a run, and soon, was standing in the road in front of his house, his eyes filled with every bad emotion that he had ever experienced before in his life.

In front of his house, a large congregation of people were milling about, but they seemed more active here than at the fight he had witnessed the week prior. And the cause of their unease was very obvious.

Tensai's home, the only place he had lived his entire life, the only place he loved, the only place he felt really and truly safe, was burning to the ground.

The top two levels had already collapsed, and the remains of his house looked like a great burning mess of metal, wood, and marble. Tensai knew it was too late to get his journal out, and he knew it was too late to get anything else out. Nothing was left inside. There no longer even was an inside. It was gone. Everything was gone.

Tensai's mind began screaming at him. Screaming at him to run, to leave, to go away and forget. It was telling him he must forget, he must, he must!

No, Tensai thought, no, this isn't possible. This is just a dream. Yes, a dream. He's dreaming. There's no way this could happen to him. Not him. These kinds of things could happen to other people, sure, but there's no way they could happen to him!

Tensai walked up tentatively, his eyes never leaving the burning ruin. He walked over to a person who was dressed in a guard's uniform, and was staring into the flames with a stolid expression on his face, his strong arms crossed over his chest. It was the kind of expression one would expect to see on a guard just going on his daily patrol.

"Sir?" Tensai said quietly to the guard, who looked at Tensai with vague interest. "Sir, what happened here?"

"None of your buisiness, boy. Move along." The guard's voice was brisk and buisiness-like, with no hint of emotion.

Tensai's self-restraint suddenly and completely snapped. Everything that had building up inside of him over his life was suddenly in his eyes, burning away. Every injustice he had ever felt, every feeling of pain, every taunt he heard, every angry thought rose into his mind. The change was so complete and so sudden, that it shocked him a little.

"No!" Tensai's voice was no longer quiet and shy. It was loud and angry; it was the voice of someone who just lost everything, and needs someone to blame it on.

"No!" He screamed again. People were turning to look at him. "I will not move on! This was my house! I will not walk away! THIS WAS MY HOUSE! THIS WAS MY HOUSE! I WILL NOT WALK AWAY! THIS WAS MY HOUSE!"

Tensai felt pain in the side of his head, and fell into the grass, still screaming at the guard who had just hit him. His words were no longer intelligeble. They were just dust and sound, anger and pain, fear and hopelessness.

He felt himself hauled back upright again, and a hand clapped across his mouth. Tensai was staring into the guard's dark eyes. They were the eyes of a soldier, of one who has seen much and killed much. They were ruthless, and the only emotion in them now was anger.

"Do you think I care?" The guard asked quietly. Around him, the congregation watched in silence, the burning building behind them temporarily forgotten. "Do you think I care if this is your house? What do you expect me to do? I just arrived here, and I don't know shit about what happened. All I was told is that nothing can be salvaged, and that two bodies were found in the wreckage. Now, if you don't mind, I think there are other people you would rather talk to."

The guard removed his hand from Tensai's mouth, which was bared in anger. They stood there for a moment, the only sound being the dry crack of the flames as the house turned to smoldering debris on the ground. Miraculously, none of the grass caught fire, and soon enough, the fire was completely gone, it's fuel source expended.

"Now go." The guard said. "Find someone else to babysit you."

Tensai stood his ground for a moment, and then spat in the guards face and ran down the street, away. He ran away from his house, away from his school, away from the cute and colorful little shops. The guard did not follow him.

He ran away from everything and everyone he ever had ever known. He ran from his freinds, he ran from his teachers, he ran from his enemies. He ran from the silent masses of people who appear whenever there is a fight or a fire or th tragic death of a boy's family. He ran from his pain, his anger, his fury, and his fear.

He ran until he collapsed several miles outside of town. It was further than he had ever been from home before, but he didn't care. He had no home now. He had no family. He had nothing. Not the comfort of a bed to sleep in, nor the promise of a meal whenever he was hungry. He had only the clothes which he was wearing at the time, and the notebook he had carried with him for as long as he could remember. His old, tattered, leather-bound journal.

He carried on, stumbling for another mile, and then slumped against a tree, and was almost instantly asleep. He never run so much before in his life, and he was deathly tired. As his mind drifted off, it was already in the process of destroying the memory of the burning house, and of everything he had ever known.

He was sleeping when it started to rain. The rain washed away his tracks and his trail of tears. The rain water soaked into his clothes and into his old journal. The pages wetted and the ink ran out of it in thin streams, running black down his clothes and into the dirt around him.

Tensai slept through the rest of the day and night, and into the morning.

He did not dream, but one question ran through his mind again and again.

"Why me?"

Aterin™ · 12-31-2006, 12:21 PM

This is a really good story. I like the way Tensai describes everything so vividly, partly cause he's a writer, right?? And are the Ono from the prologue and the Ono from the rest of the Chapters the same man? What about the two bodies that were found in the burning building? Was it really Tensais' Mom and Dad, or was it the people that had visited his Father a week before? Hopefully you'll write more now Mr. Penguin, cause you've caught my interest.

MrPenguin589 · 01-01-2007, 08:38 PM

Yes, it is the same Ono. I should probably put something in about that...
The prolouge happens about seventeen years prior to the main part of the story.
As for the bodies, well, I don't want to spoil anything.
But by saying that, it kinda gives it away...
Anyways... here's the next part.

Chapter Four: Forgotten

The rains began falling each day for at least an hour in the evening, before clearing up and allowing the sun to shine again for it's last final moments before nightfall. Every tree that Tensai passed was bereft of leaves, and those on the ground were beginning to thin out.

When it would rain, Tensai would always try to seek shelter where he could. Unfortunately, he wasn't always so lucky, and had to trudge on through the rain. The bitter cold would seep through his clothes and onto his skin, where it would feel like tiny shards of ice pressing against him, robbing his body of any heat it tried to create.

The tines that it wasn't raining, it was still very cold. When Tensai had come home from school that fateful day that was almost now a week gone, he had been only wearing a white robe and a shirt and long pants underneath. The robe had turned brown and splotchy, with a stain of black where the ink had run out of his journal.

When poor Tensai had opened his journal to find that all the words had run off the pages, he had cried for a long time. It seemed that even that little comfort that he had was now gone, for he had not a pen or quill to write with. He decided he must have dropped it while he was walking.

The details of the prior week had grown fuzzy and dim, like an old movie that was fading into nothing. He remembered that something was burning and somebody was screaming. Who was screaming? He remembered a guard and a group of people. Had it been them? Were they screaming?

Tensai was walking down a muddy path that he assumed lead to a town. He had found the trail two days earlier, and since then, he had not seen a single person going either way. His only companions were the occasional rabbit or other small rodent that would go skittering into the underbrush at the firs tsign of trouble. He looked up into the sky often, but not once did he see any birds. He would always sigh and look back at the ground, wishing to be like the birds. Oh, how he wanted to be free.

Tensai passed by a tree and noticed a shape slumped under it. He looked at it curiously, and decided that it had to be a person. Judging from the clothes, however, Tensai decided the man was no more than a mere beggar. Tensai's parents had told him when he was young not to make eye contact with beggars, and to pretend not to notice them. They told Tensai that beggars were desperate people, and they would do near anything to get money. This lead Tensai to wonder why they didn't just go and get jobs. He didn't ask however. He realized that he really didn't want to know the answer.

As he turned his head from the beggar, Tensai saw a small group of buildings far ahead of him. There was a long, two-story building along the side of the road, and further down he saw a few small houses.

Tensai's pulse suddenly sped up. It had been a long time since he had seen a town, and now he was seeing one right in front of him. He instantly wondered how he would pay for a room, if he could find one. Tensai decided that the bigger building must be an inn, and he knew inns always had rooms.
He sped up to a jog, and very soon, he was in front of the inn, looking up the steps at the front door. It was a plain wooden door with a brass handle, and looked whethered but tough. He walked up the three steps to the small landing, and raised his fist. He hesitated, and then realized that since it was an inn, he probably didn't need to knock.

He lowered his hand, and grasped the knob. He paused, looking at his hand. It looked so small, so fragile. It looked weak and useless. It looked pale and dirty. It looked like the hand of a beggar. A common beggar.

Tensai shook his head, grasped the knob again, and turned it.

He pished open the door, and was treated to the soft glow of many candles strategically placed around a large room. Spread across the floor, Tensai saw many tables and chairs, only a few of which were occupied. Over to his left and about halfway down the room, he saw a large fireplace with a few wooden chairs in front of it. The occupents of the chairs had pulled a round table over to their spot, and had cards spread across the table, along with a sizeable amount of coins.

Tensai had seen people gambling before, but he had not really expected to see it so bluntly when he walked into the inn. He realized that he wasn't home anymore. He wasn't home where he had no worries or troubles or pain. He was in the real world, where people died and people suffered. He was in the real world, where there were beggars and bandits and gamblers and... inns. Inns where all these people met and slept.

Tensai crossed the room, walking between table and chairs, not looking at anyone, but almost straight down at his dirty shoes. The shoes, he remembered, had been expensive. His parents had them custom tailored for Tensai, and back home, he had many more pairs. All of his clothes were custom tailored. His parents were rich, and not afraid to spend.

My parents, Tensai thought, what about my parents? Where are they?
He had the breif image of a smoldering building, and another thought popped into his mind.

Where is home? Do I have a home?

Tensai found himself in front of the counter, behind which a tall woman in an apron was washing a couple large metal mugs. Her hair was pulled back in a knot, and her clothes were cheap and made for working. This is the real world, Tensai thought, this is not home.

"Excuse me?" Tensai said quietly. The woman did not turn around, but rather, continued to clean the mugs.

"Excuse me?" Tensai said a little louder, and this time the woman turned around and looked at him. Tensai saw a look that could have almost been disgust cross her face for a moment, and then one that might have been pity. Tensai figured the expressions were just his imagination. He was nervous, that was all.

"What do you need, young sir?" The woman asked. Her voice was quiet, but buisness-like and almost solemn.

"Umm, well, I was just wondering if..." Tensai didn't know what to say. He really hadn't thought about what he was going to ask, and now found himself completely off guard.

The woman said nothing, but continued looking at him boredly.

"I was wondering if I could get a room here." Tensai blurted suddenly, surprising himself. Was that what he really wanted?

"It's ten dirus a night. How long do you plan on staying?" The woman was now looking slightly more interested, and even a little amused.

"Well, umm, I'm not sure." Tensai admitted truthfully. How long will I stay? He wondered. How long can I stay.

"Okay," the woman said, "how much do you have?"

"Pardon?" Tensai asked. He was actually buying time, trying to remember whether he had any money.

"How much money do you have?" The woman asked impatiently. The amusement was gone, and she was looking a little irritated.

"I... I don't think I have any." Tensai said quietly, lowering his head.

"No money, eh?" The woman said. Tensai looked up, and saw she looked slightly interested again, and even somewhat amused. "So what do you plan on doing about that?"

"Umm, well, umm, I don't know."

"Okay, look, kid, where are your parents? Do they know you're here?" The woman said. She moved away from the sink and up to the counter. "You aren't running away from home, are you?"

"I... I... I don't have a home." Tensai said, then spoke again quickly. "I don't know where my parents are."

The woman examined him closely for a few moments. Behind him, Tensai heard a loud bout of shouting and cheering. Apparently someone just won a lot of money.

"They're dead, aren't they?" The woman said quietly. Tensai looked up, and saw that she looked sad. "They died, and it wasn't that long ago, either. Am I correct?"

Tensai nodded, and suddenly he remembered. The burning building, it was his home. His parents died in there. Yes, that's what the guard said. And Tensai spit in the guards face, didn't he? Yes, he knows he did.

"Your parents were rich, and so were you." The woman said. Tensai was amazed. She was reading him like a book. "And when they died, you ran away. And you came here."

Tensai nodded glumly. Yes, she was correct. There was no doubt about that.

"Tell ya what," the woman said, standing up straight, "I'll make you a deal. You can work here doing chores and the such, and I'll let you stay in a room. Hell, I'll even give you free food, at least until you want to go. How's that sound?"

For the first time in a week, Tensai smiled. The smile broke into a grin, and he nodded his head enthusiastically. "Sounds great! Thank you so much!"

"Now that you're working for me, you might as well tell me your name." The woman said. Tensai saw that she was smiling.

"My name is Tensai Saionoko." Tensai said happily.

The woman nodded, accepting this. "My name's Yimili. Glad to have you on board, kid."

Tensai grinned.

Aterin™ · 01-02-2007, 02:51 PM

Overall good chapter. Sorry bout maybe spoiling some of the story in my last post..didn't mean to..

MrPenguin589 · 02-13-2007, 12:07 AM

Chapter Five: Azara

"An empty black infinite stretches out in front of you, waiting to be called upon and used. You have the power to do anything you wish with this mass of nothingness. You can create, you can destroy, you can govern, you can control, you can kill, you can do anything you wish. All you must do is wish to make it so.

"You are a god. Everything is at your beck and call. Anything you wish can be so. All of your wildest dreams can come true. It is all possible. All of it. You want to be a king? You can be a king. You want to be a beggar and see what it's like? You can do that too.

"Perhaps you just want to create all of this and watch what happens. That is well within your reach. All you must do is learn how to control what you are doing. You are a god, remember, and while you can make an infinite amount of clones that live boring and meanigless lives, you can also create a world filled with different people with different ideas and agendas and personalities.

"Learning to do this is easy. You just have to practice. Practice makes perfect."

Tensai sat back in his chair, exhaled, and looked at the person in the chair opposite of him. The boy there was relatively short (he was eye-level with Tensai's shoulder) but had a mess of dirty blond hair on top of his head that perched like a large pale dead spider. No amount of combing or washing could make it sit flat and look even somewhat respectable, so the boy had stopped trying. He still washed when he could, of course, he just didn't bother getting frustrated with it anymore.

He reached up with one well-tanned hand and scratched his still smooth cheek. He was young and hardly even had any peach fuzz on his face yet, but he still liked to think that he was more mature than most other kids his age. The problem was that he really wasn't.

"So all this goes through your head while you write?" The boy asked. His voice was already vaugley gruff, and Tensai figured it would be a perfect voice for an overseer or a tavern owner, though the boy's plans were much different. He had told Tensai earlier that he wanted to be a great explorer and see the whole world, even the parts that no-one else has seen.

"Yes." Tensai replied shortly. It wasn't strictly the truth, however. This went through his head every once in a while, and during those times he would feel the msot excited and ready to write. He felt an enormous amount of power in writing, because he really did see himself as a god to his minions. He didn't like to think of that, though, as he thought it sounded stupid and greedy, much like the tavern's usual inhabitants.

"So... how... uhh..." The boy stuttered, scratching his chin absentmidedly, "how do you decide on what you are going to write? Do you just... uhh... you know... imagine?"

Tensai smiled slightly. The kid was amusing in his stupidity, if nothing else. "Well, I try to think of interesting people or places, and then when I have enough, put them all together and see what happens." Once again, this wasn't necessarily the truth, but it would work for now.

The boy frowned. "What do you mean, watch what happens? You decide what happens, it's not like a play or sitting on the street or something."

"Well, Azara, to me, things just happen." Tensai looked at the boy, Azara, and noticed he still looked confused. Tensai supressed a grin. "It's hard to describe. Sometimes I wakek up after a dream, and write down what... oh, hey, that's it! It's like a dream! You can control it, if you really try, but most of the time, it just runs it's course, with you as the passenger."

Azara nodded, looking slightly less baffled. "So you sort of daydream and write down what you see? What if you go off-topic?"

Tensai decided that 'off-topic' wasn't a good term for it, but he answered the question anyway.

"Well, then I write it down, but then edit it and see if it can fit into the story."

"But what if it doesn't?"

"Then I discard it."

"So... uhh... isn't that kinda like a massacre?"

Tensai frowned for a moment. A massacre? What the hell did he mean by that? After a moment, he came to a conclusion. "Well, no. The characters are usually the same, so nobody is dying."

"But what if they aren't different? What if they... aww, never mind." Azara stood up and stretched, his back cracking loudly. He shook his head as if to clear it, and his hair flew about him in a manner that made it seem like it really was some large dead spider, and Azara was trying to get it off. He turned to go, but then stopped suddenly and turned back to Tensai.

Tensai raised an eyebrow. "You forget something?"

Azara look at the ground for a moment, collecting his thoughts, and then up at Tensai's eyes. "I, uh, I have another question." He said quietly. Tensai wondered why Azara suddely seemed so humble. It was very unusual, especially when talking to Tensai. Azara wanted to be dominant to have power, to have control, to be in charge, but at the moment he looked like a beaten dog.

"Okay, then, go ahead." Tensai replied. He almost enjoyed this part of his day. Since arriving at the tavern, Yimili had given him a set of hours to work, a place to sleep and hang around, and a task to do. Yimili wanted Tensai to teach Azara everything he knew about writing. Tensai had found this to be a very vague task, and wondered how Yimili knew that he was a writer. He later decided that Azara wanted to be a writer, but he didn't know who to turn to, so his mother, Yimili, was helping him out with anyone she could.

"Well, I was just wondering, whether, you know," Azara stuttered while Tensai looked at his now downcast eyes patiently, "whether maybe, um, you know, we are part of a story."

Azara looked up into Tensai's eyes quickly, as if to affirm that Tensai was not standing up in outrage or something.

But Tensai wasn't. He sat in his chair and thought. It wasn't the type of thing he thought about, but it was definitely a profound question. It seemed, however, to be rather absurd. After all, this was real life, and real life was most definitely not a story.

Tensai looked up into Azara's worried eyes (wondering how such a simple boy could think of such a thing) and spoke.

"No. It's impossible." Tensai said in an even tone.

Azara looked surprised. "Are you sure? Because, you know, maybe there's a greater power out there that is controlling everything we do, making us say what we say. You know, maybe he is writing us, like you were talking about."

Tensai's