Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Announcement: I Give Up
I have given up on this story. While it was going alright, new developments in dreams have completely shattered what I was going for: I have married Abby in a lucid dream, and my dream guide has "died" somehow. With the me x Ellen ship I was going for, and the fact that my dreams now shift towards Mastermind's plot instead of mine, I simply don't think this was going to work. I would have to restructure my plot if I wanted to write this story.
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Part 13: The Great Chancellor
"Wow, you're pretty good at this." Ellen commented. I merely nodded, then continued to speak.
The next morning we awoke and Z's cloak was back to normal, which was strange, but I could not get a word out of Z about it. I could only deduce that it was not only a symbol for him, but also his actual power source, which explained why it was valued so highly and why it grew back through the night. He seemed to be in a much better mood even though his cloak was stolen. "Would you like some fried eggs?" He said while cooking on a frying pan. I nodded, surprised that he knew how to cook. He noted my surprise, explaining: "Cooking's usually a woman's work, but I can't risk the same thing as last time. The less travel, the better." I nodded in response.
We quickly sneaked from alley to alley, which was difficult under the bright daylight, but no enemy of Z seemed to appear from anyways. Finally we reached this church, where we saw a crouching old woman, sitting near a table, reading a book. "Ahhh, you are here, dear Z. Who's your friend here?" Z quickly explained the situation, and I embellished upon the details. She responded with many nods along with questions. After we finished she was quite surprised. She took out some reading glasses from her pocket and shuffled around until she went into her room. Peeking into the window, I saw a book. She frowned as she flipped through it, as she read some part of it. Finally she came back. "We will have to test your worthiness," she said with a glint in her eye, and a dramatic pause "...can you deduce my age?"
I was absolutely speechless. I saw her white hair and wrinkly face. I had already known she was old. Was this a trick question? I had no clue where to begin. She might as well be a 20 year old disguised as a 80 year old. She could be 100 years old but disguising as 60 years old really well. Looking around, I saw a banner celebrating her birthday--so it was a trick question! "87 years old, madam!" I stated. She smiled a senile smile, chuckling.
"It does seem he thinks before he acts," she commented, "and it does seem your story is true, especially since Z believes you. There's not a lot of people that he trusts. In any case, it's much easier to defeat your demon father than you think. He is best at subterfuge and undercover work, but he has been forced to work things into his own hands and reveal himself many times. If you turn the tables against him and instead do the dirty work yourself, you just may be able to assassinate him."
Z looked at her in disbelief. "You really think he will be able to kill his father?? Firstly, I don't think he's that cold-blooded, and secondly, what if it was all part of a mentally deranged mind? Even I only hear shady rumors."
The senile woman nodded while pulling out some glasses out of her pocket. "Well, that's what you think, but I think I know what you're talking about. You did mention the Judge, didn't you?" I nodded in response. "Well, young man, you're in luck. He actually visited us once since he sensed "unusual energy fluctuations within the atmosphere", as so he said himself. He's quite a talkative one, at that!" She chuckled once more, "So here's the thing. He gave us a book, a guiding book, created by those who studied the possible outcomes of everything concerning the strange events that kept on happening in his world as well as our world. Together, I believe we will be able to figure out exactly who your father is working for, and how to get to him."
So we started reading the book. It wasn't quite as exciting as the book that I was currently reading about myself, but it was intriguing nevertheless. The book described animals disappearing off into nowhere near the midst of the night while all was dark, yet when the Judge went to check upon them, there was not a trace to be found....
To be continued.
The next morning we awoke and Z's cloak was back to normal, which was strange, but I could not get a word out of Z about it. I could only deduce that it was not only a symbol for him, but also his actual power source, which explained why it was valued so highly and why it grew back through the night. He seemed to be in a much better mood even though his cloak was stolen. "Would you like some fried eggs?" He said while cooking on a frying pan. I nodded, surprised that he knew how to cook. He noted my surprise, explaining: "Cooking's usually a woman's work, but I can't risk the same thing as last time. The less travel, the better." I nodded in response.
We quickly sneaked from alley to alley, which was difficult under the bright daylight, but no enemy of Z seemed to appear from anyways. Finally we reached this church, where we saw a crouching old woman, sitting near a table, reading a book. "Ahhh, you are here, dear Z. Who's your friend here?" Z quickly explained the situation, and I embellished upon the details. She responded with many nods along with questions. After we finished she was quite surprised. She took out some reading glasses from her pocket and shuffled around until she went into her room. Peeking into the window, I saw a book. She frowned as she flipped through it, as she read some part of it. Finally she came back. "We will have to test your worthiness," she said with a glint in her eye, and a dramatic pause "...can you deduce my age?"
I was absolutely speechless. I saw her white hair and wrinkly face. I had already known she was old. Was this a trick question? I had no clue where to begin. She might as well be a 20 year old disguised as a 80 year old. She could be 100 years old but disguising as 60 years old really well. Looking around, I saw a banner celebrating her birthday--so it was a trick question! "87 years old, madam!" I stated. She smiled a senile smile, chuckling.
"It does seem he thinks before he acts," she commented, "and it does seem your story is true, especially since Z believes you. There's not a lot of people that he trusts. In any case, it's much easier to defeat your demon father than you think. He is best at subterfuge and undercover work, but he has been forced to work things into his own hands and reveal himself many times. If you turn the tables against him and instead do the dirty work yourself, you just may be able to assassinate him."
Z looked at her in disbelief. "You really think he will be able to kill his father?? Firstly, I don't think he's that cold-blooded, and secondly, what if it was all part of a mentally deranged mind? Even I only hear shady rumors."
The senile woman nodded while pulling out some glasses out of her pocket. "Well, that's what you think, but I think I know what you're talking about. You did mention the Judge, didn't you?" I nodded in response. "Well, young man, you're in luck. He actually visited us once since he sensed "unusual energy fluctuations within the atmosphere", as so he said himself. He's quite a talkative one, at that!" She chuckled once more, "So here's the thing. He gave us a book, a guiding book, created by those who studied the possible outcomes of everything concerning the strange events that kept on happening in his world as well as our world. Together, I believe we will be able to figure out exactly who your father is working for, and how to get to him."
So we started reading the book. It wasn't quite as exciting as the book that I was currently reading about myself, but it was intriguing nevertheless. The book described animals disappearing off into nowhere near the midst of the night while all was dark, yet when the Judge went to check upon them, there was not a trace to be found....
To be continued.
Monday, November 16, 2015
Good news!
My dreams have been reorganized from https://docs.google.com/document/d/19p_OaFMiLlx0DLDfTdt5xwpyDphXbgQfI22fXwqEFCE/edit?usp=sharing onto a neater webpage, 9skdream.jimbo.com. It really wasn't that hard, except hyperlinking my top-ten dreams. Enjoy while you wait for my next update! [If there will ever be another one...] :/
Monday, May 25, 2015
Part 12: The Other Dimension
*Note: My inactivity is due to lots of studies and activities, haven't had much time on here.
Ellen frowned as she read the next section.
The boy exited the portal, finding himself in a dark, dusty shop. Confused, he looked around, and exited in anticipation for what was going to happen. He found that it was night outside, with electrical lights on streets, and some people walking about. It seemed that he had to find somebody "with a position of power" just as the judge had described, so he went on cautiously to find a person....
"This story is becoming more and more detached... it doesn't seem very exciting." Ellen complained a bit. "Come on now, surely YOU can describe the scenery better than this writer, am I correct?"
I thought for a moment, humbled, then spoke: "Well, I suppose I did describe the previous scenes more vividly to the author of this book. I suppose I was stunned from the portal-travel. I could barely think straight... but now that I go back to it, yes, I can recall it much better...."
She sat and eagerly listened as I re-described the story from my point of view.
The world exploded in a fury of flames. At least, that's what it seemed like to me. Scraps of ash and paper flew out, blowing a snow of chaos into the air. Darkness enveloped me as the billowing wind blew out with the smell of cocoa, and I shuddered in a combination of fear and nervousness. The wooden floor creaked beneath me and the door slowly opened soundlessly, almost as if beckoning me forward. I squinted against the light coming through the window and I walked through the clothing hanging on the racks, hardly registering the fact that I had teleported into an abandoned store. It was nearly just as dark outside, except the street lights that shone as my guide. Everybody looked suspicious; I couldn't trust a single person, and I double checked myself to see that I had everything the judge gave to me. I wandered about for a bit before I realized it was pointless to do anything other than look for that "person of power". Thus I walked up to a person and asked him about who had a position of power.
He wore a cloak of darkness, and I could swear I saw the glint of a dagger on his hips. He trudged forward leisurely but also with an air of mystery. He glanced at me and seemed to sneer beneath the darkness of his hood. "You want to know power?" He asked in a gruff voice, and I nodded. "Follow me then." He said coldly, then walked onward with a quicker pace. Soon we reached this massive building that looked quite fancy, and two strong guards grabbing huge clubs by their sides looked on with disapproving eyes.
"What he be doin' ere?" One guard asked.
The other guard took a single step, and haughtily towered over me while pointing to the right into a dark alley with two fallen trash cans. "Ye belong over 'ere ye hear me?"
I looked on helplessly and glanced at my guide with pleading eyes. The man who led me stared at them and merely said: "Well, this shrimp here wants in here; won't be causing any trouble."
"Fine 'en," the first guard reluctantly said, "but I'll be throwin' him out if anybody complains."
So I nervously stepped into the building with the man, and it turned out to be a fancy bar. Violin music played through the room, and the waiters and waitresses all wore fancy dresses and shirts. Most of the people were so formal, I was out of place even though I was wearing a half-decent shirt and pants. The man who led me seemed to realize this and grunted in disapproval, although he was most likely too lazy to go somewhere to change me into good attire.
He looked both ways then leaned in and whispered into my ear: "Listen up, you heard the guard. You have to behave as if you belong in here." I nodded meekly, then his voice softened a little to soothe my fear. "Well, since you're with me in here...you want anything to eat?" He asked after a while. I nodded yet again, this time more confidently. I had faced monsters down before, so why was this man so intimidating? Was it my lack of interaction with people? Or was it the terror in my heart that this man could be anybody--including, hopefully not--my demonic father!
But nothing such drastic was revealed, of course. We received our food, which I ate since I was famished. It seemed that the portal travel emptied the stomach along with the mind. As we were eating, suddenly a group of men came, all of them wearing a bandanna and having at least one scar somewhere on their body, some on their legs, some on their arms, other on their faces. The toughest man seemed to have scars all over his body, and I supposed he was the leader. With a breath of garlic and nasty scent that I could smell even though he not directly facing me, and muscles so bulging that they almost touched me, he attempted to intimidate my man. "Well well well, if it isn't 'Mr. Z'. We see you're on the wanted list yet again for a high reward... and you still dare enter a fancy restaurant for rich noblemen and rich bandits? " He laughed, spit flying out of his mouth. "Mr. Z" did not respond, so he continued his bullying, facing me instead this time. "What's the matter? New guy can't help his friend? Well that's just too bad!" The rest of the gang laughed with him this time, and I was getting angry. Why wasn't "Mr. Z" doing anything? Indeed, he just sat there, eating his food, as if this gang didn't exist at all! I formed my hand into fists, but Mr. Z merely scowled at me and shook his head. The other men looked on, intrigued. It seemed like they were doing this on purpose to torment Mr. Z and start a fight of some sort.
Their plan didn't seem to work out, and Mr. Z had paid the bills to the cashier, and he walked out. His silent message was right; there had been no need for a fight that I potentially started. I was even a little proud of myself for keeping my anger in check. The gang seemed surprised and disappointed, but the leader wouldn't give up. Just as we were about to exit, he grabbed me by the shirt--since I was closer to him, and further away from the door, and most likely an in-formidable threat compared to Z. over there--and flung me to the ground. Z. seemed to have forgotten about me as he exited the door, but seeing the gang loom over me, and seeing that I was about to start a fight, he did not like the scenario and he was forced to run back and grab me, but not before I managed to get a punch into the fight. The gang members enjoyed seeing Z back into action, and one quickly shut the door, blocking the way. We were outnumbered by 5 to 1, but Z was not intimidated. He quickly used a quick strike of his dagger and two members had already lost their weapons. I was not as fast but my punches halted a few of them, and the others were hesitant, seeing my martial art skills. "Hey, you aren't actually too bad," Z commented as he took out another with a sweep of his feet. I nodded at the compliment, but soon noticed that the members of the gang didn't really seem to be fighting--they grabbed an awful lot at Z's cloak. I thought about it for a while before I realized they were trying to figure out Z's true identity! They must have been trying to steal his cloak, which would most likely sell for a big amount on the market, since it hid Z, and Z was most likely quite dependent on his cloak. He seemed to realize the same thing as I, and dodged more carefully, but we tired out soon enough, especially with the leader's quick swings with his axes. The waiters tried to stop our fight, but obviously they were incapable, since the gang's members were too good at fighting.
Z's cloak was getting grabbed more and more, and Z soon had a few wounds, as did I. We were getting tired, and we couldn't easily get past the door guard. Suddenly I had an idea, and shouted with a strange accent: "He ist cauzing de trouble!! Dis newest man! Guards, youst muzt stop 'im!" The guards outside most likely registered my voice and inferred it was me, because they came rushing inside, barging through the door. They instantly found me with their eyes, although they realized by looking at the gang that I was not the real trouble. They understood what they had to do, and they stood there, stopping the gang members in their tracks just by examining them meticulously. They were punished with the clubs and they were forced outside, all but the three strongest, including the gang leader. The leader stared down the guards before finally beginning to walk through the door. Just as I was beginning to breathe, and Z was at his lowest defense, the leader suddenly lunged with an impossible speed for his size, grabbed the cloak, ripping part of the hood and the back near the legs off Z, and ran off incredibly quickly with the rest of the gang, while the guards with their armor gave up following after running a few steps.
"We're sorry, Z." A guard said, shrugging, staring at Z's long straight blonde hair which was revealed in a hole in the hood, which I presume few people had ever seen before. "Looks like they got your cloak."
"It's alright," Z said in a voice that didn't sound like it was alright, but then he patted me on the back, "You've done well. You can explain exactly who we're looking for when we get home." But as we walked under the street lights, I noticed his usual gait was different--perhaps less confident--without the cloak. I did not comment about it. After we went to his house, I explained my situation. Z nodded and pondered over it, then he spoke. "We'll visit the chancellor tomorrow, I think he's the man we need. His background life is so void, he must be the one. You can sleep in the room next to mine." He pointed. Suddenly I noticed something strange about Z.
"Wait, um, not to be intruding or anything, why is your cloak so prized?" I asked. "It can't just be that it's your signature wear, right?"
Z did not answer. He merely sighed. He went off into the room, as if he had not heard my question, and that was the end of the conversation. However, that was not the end of the brewing of my ideas, for I had saw his ears, and they had all the characteristics of a sharp and acute hearer--except that they bore a glint of metal.
NOTE: The story is indeed getting more exciting but sadly that also brings lots of plot holes and inconsistencies with my dreams. Here's the full list:
-There is no "Z" or "Mr. Z" in my dreams
-There was no gang (although there WAS a fancy restaurant); and sadly there is no fight
-The dream of walking out into the streets with electric lights is separate from the one with burned money [except in my dream, the money is ripped, and nothing infers that the money is burned]
-The dream of bursting light is separate from the one with money
-There are no guards in any dream for anything [however, I did have a dream in which I was hit by a club by a giant/tall man, passing out while "trying to win while doing absolutely nothing"]
Ellen frowned as she read the next section.
The boy exited the portal, finding himself in a dark, dusty shop. Confused, he looked around, and exited in anticipation for what was going to happen. He found that it was night outside, with electrical lights on streets, and some people walking about. It seemed that he had to find somebody "with a position of power" just as the judge had described, so he went on cautiously to find a person....
"This story is becoming more and more detached... it doesn't seem very exciting." Ellen complained a bit. "Come on now, surely YOU can describe the scenery better than this writer, am I correct?"
I thought for a moment, humbled, then spoke: "Well, I suppose I did describe the previous scenes more vividly to the author of this book. I suppose I was stunned from the portal-travel. I could barely think straight... but now that I go back to it, yes, I can recall it much better...."
She sat and eagerly listened as I re-described the story from my point of view.
The world exploded in a fury of flames. At least, that's what it seemed like to me. Scraps of ash and paper flew out, blowing a snow of chaos into the air. Darkness enveloped me as the billowing wind blew out with the smell of cocoa, and I shuddered in a combination of fear and nervousness. The wooden floor creaked beneath me and the door slowly opened soundlessly, almost as if beckoning me forward. I squinted against the light coming through the window and I walked through the clothing hanging on the racks, hardly registering the fact that I had teleported into an abandoned store. It was nearly just as dark outside, except the street lights that shone as my guide. Everybody looked suspicious; I couldn't trust a single person, and I double checked myself to see that I had everything the judge gave to me. I wandered about for a bit before I realized it was pointless to do anything other than look for that "person of power". Thus I walked up to a person and asked him about who had a position of power.
He wore a cloak of darkness, and I could swear I saw the glint of a dagger on his hips. He trudged forward leisurely but also with an air of mystery. He glanced at me and seemed to sneer beneath the darkness of his hood. "You want to know power?" He asked in a gruff voice, and I nodded. "Follow me then." He said coldly, then walked onward with a quicker pace. Soon we reached this massive building that looked quite fancy, and two strong guards grabbing huge clubs by their sides looked on with disapproving eyes.
"What he be doin' ere?" One guard asked.
The other guard took a single step, and haughtily towered over me while pointing to the right into a dark alley with two fallen trash cans. "Ye belong over 'ere ye hear me?"
I looked on helplessly and glanced at my guide with pleading eyes. The man who led me stared at them and merely said: "Well, this shrimp here wants in here; won't be causing any trouble."
"Fine 'en," the first guard reluctantly said, "but I'll be throwin' him out if anybody complains."
So I nervously stepped into the building with the man, and it turned out to be a fancy bar. Violin music played through the room, and the waiters and waitresses all wore fancy dresses and shirts. Most of the people were so formal, I was out of place even though I was wearing a half-decent shirt and pants. The man who led me seemed to realize this and grunted in disapproval, although he was most likely too lazy to go somewhere to change me into good attire.
He looked both ways then leaned in and whispered into my ear: "Listen up, you heard the guard. You have to behave as if you belong in here." I nodded meekly, then his voice softened a little to soothe my fear. "Well, since you're with me in here...you want anything to eat?" He asked after a while. I nodded yet again, this time more confidently. I had faced monsters down before, so why was this man so intimidating? Was it my lack of interaction with people? Or was it the terror in my heart that this man could be anybody--including, hopefully not--my demonic father!
But nothing such drastic was revealed, of course. We received our food, which I ate since I was famished. It seemed that the portal travel emptied the stomach along with the mind. As we were eating, suddenly a group of men came, all of them wearing a bandanna and having at least one scar somewhere on their body, some on their legs, some on their arms, other on their faces. The toughest man seemed to have scars all over his body, and I supposed he was the leader. With a breath of garlic and nasty scent that I could smell even though he not directly facing me, and muscles so bulging that they almost touched me, he attempted to intimidate my man. "Well well well, if it isn't 'Mr. Z'. We see you're on the wanted list yet again for a high reward... and you still dare enter a fancy restaurant for rich noblemen and rich bandits? " He laughed, spit flying out of his mouth. "Mr. Z" did not respond, so he continued his bullying, facing me instead this time. "What's the matter? New guy can't help his friend? Well that's just too bad!" The rest of the gang laughed with him this time, and I was getting angry. Why wasn't "Mr. Z" doing anything? Indeed, he just sat there, eating his food, as if this gang didn't exist at all! I formed my hand into fists, but Mr. Z merely scowled at me and shook his head. The other men looked on, intrigued. It seemed like they were doing this on purpose to torment Mr. Z and start a fight of some sort.
Their plan didn't seem to work out, and Mr. Z had paid the bills to the cashier, and he walked out. His silent message was right; there had been no need for a fight that I potentially started. I was even a little proud of myself for keeping my anger in check. The gang seemed surprised and disappointed, but the leader wouldn't give up. Just as we were about to exit, he grabbed me by the shirt--since I was closer to him, and further away from the door, and most likely an in-formidable threat compared to Z. over there--and flung me to the ground. Z. seemed to have forgotten about me as he exited the door, but seeing the gang loom over me, and seeing that I was about to start a fight, he did not like the scenario and he was forced to run back and grab me, but not before I managed to get a punch into the fight. The gang members enjoyed seeing Z back into action, and one quickly shut the door, blocking the way. We were outnumbered by 5 to 1, but Z was not intimidated. He quickly used a quick strike of his dagger and two members had already lost their weapons. I was not as fast but my punches halted a few of them, and the others were hesitant, seeing my martial art skills. "Hey, you aren't actually too bad," Z commented as he took out another with a sweep of his feet. I nodded at the compliment, but soon noticed that the members of the gang didn't really seem to be fighting--they grabbed an awful lot at Z's cloak. I thought about it for a while before I realized they were trying to figure out Z's true identity! They must have been trying to steal his cloak, which would most likely sell for a big amount on the market, since it hid Z, and Z was most likely quite dependent on his cloak. He seemed to realize the same thing as I, and dodged more carefully, but we tired out soon enough, especially with the leader's quick swings with his axes. The waiters tried to stop our fight, but obviously they were incapable, since the gang's members were too good at fighting.
Z's cloak was getting grabbed more and more, and Z soon had a few wounds, as did I. We were getting tired, and we couldn't easily get past the door guard. Suddenly I had an idea, and shouted with a strange accent: "He ist cauzing de trouble!! Dis newest man! Guards, youst muzt stop 'im!" The guards outside most likely registered my voice and inferred it was me, because they came rushing inside, barging through the door. They instantly found me with their eyes, although they realized by looking at the gang that I was not the real trouble. They understood what they had to do, and they stood there, stopping the gang members in their tracks just by examining them meticulously. They were punished with the clubs and they were forced outside, all but the three strongest, including the gang leader. The leader stared down the guards before finally beginning to walk through the door. Just as I was beginning to breathe, and Z was at his lowest defense, the leader suddenly lunged with an impossible speed for his size, grabbed the cloak, ripping part of the hood and the back near the legs off Z, and ran off incredibly quickly with the rest of the gang, while the guards with their armor gave up following after running a few steps.
"We're sorry, Z." A guard said, shrugging, staring at Z's long straight blonde hair which was revealed in a hole in the hood, which I presume few people had ever seen before. "Looks like they got your cloak."
"It's alright," Z said in a voice that didn't sound like it was alright, but then he patted me on the back, "You've done well. You can explain exactly who we're looking for when we get home." But as we walked under the street lights, I noticed his usual gait was different--perhaps less confident--without the cloak. I did not comment about it. After we went to his house, I explained my situation. Z nodded and pondered over it, then he spoke. "We'll visit the chancellor tomorrow, I think he's the man we need. His background life is so void, he must be the one. You can sleep in the room next to mine." He pointed. Suddenly I noticed something strange about Z.
"Wait, um, not to be intruding or anything, why is your cloak so prized?" I asked. "It can't just be that it's your signature wear, right?"
Z did not answer. He merely sighed. He went off into the room, as if he had not heard my question, and that was the end of the conversation. However, that was not the end of the brewing of my ideas, for I had saw his ears, and they had all the characteristics of a sharp and acute hearer--except that they bore a glint of metal.
NOTE: The story is indeed getting more exciting but sadly that also brings lots of plot holes and inconsistencies with my dreams. Here's the full list:
-There is no "Z" or "Mr. Z" in my dreams
-There was no gang (although there WAS a fancy restaurant); and sadly there is no fight
-The dream of walking out into the streets with electric lights is separate from the one with burned money [except in my dream, the money is ripped, and nothing infers that the money is burned]
-The dream of bursting light is separate from the one with money
-There are no guards in any dream for anything [however, I did have a dream in which I was hit by a club by a giant/tall man, passing out while "trying to win while doing absolutely nothing"]
Monday, April 20, 2015
Part 11: To the Malicious Father!
The judge explained what the situation was about. "You see, the dimension portals are the links between the worlds. IN THE BEGINNING; there was nothing but the mists. They were the formations of the worlds. After they clashed against each other, they formed energy that allowed for formations of different worlds; they were so fast they broke the laws of psychics. Now, there are remaining bits of the mists splattered around all the dimensions. However, few people know this. The grand masters of the dimensions at first allowed everybody and anybody to access the portals."
"What's so bad about that?" The boy asked.
The response was a head shaking, a finger silencing, and a mouth continuing to speak: "There were wars; huge wars--the Battle against the Dark One in special, in which he joined forces with all the other evil men and monsters of the dimensions, that forced the Grand Masters to limit the portals, allowing only some rulers of the worlds and trustworthy men who served them to go between and open up these portals."
The boy gasped in response.
"Yes. That is correct. Ever since then, the portals have been closed to prevent the battle, which was a call too close for anyone's liking. You see, I am actually one of the prophetic men who were very helpful to the Grand Masters. I organized a neat group with other people here; some with parents who were separated from the different dimensions, Now, this prophecy's meaning has been revealed. Your father is a demon, an evil incarnate part of the remaining reborn of the Dark One in that battle against those Grand Masters."
There was silence as the judge finally finished his explanation.
"Then....what shall I do!" He practically shouted with desperation. He grasped the judge by the arm. "Please help me!" He exclaimed.
The judge thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Ah.... desperate times call for desperate measures," he said, "it seems that I would have no choice other than to open up a portal for you. But, in order to prevent others interrogating you and finding out where the portal is, you must be blindfolded." Saying this, he pulled a straight piece of cloth over the boy's eyes, and brought him down a series of complex turns and twists while seeming to go down and up at the same time.
They did it so well.... I thought, even now I can't be sure where the portal was located relative to the place I started from. Who knows, it might have been directly behind the walls the whole time!
After a seemingly perpetual amount of time, he finally reached a strange-looking machine. The judge lifted the blindfold and stated: "You may examine your surroundings now." Holograms popped up with strange symbols, and he used his fingers to drag to specific places, with the boy looking on, mesmerized. Suddenly the machine started humming, glowing, and the mist seemed to form together. There was a blinding bright flash of yellow and orange, and the heat was taken in by the boy. It felt like he was exploding from the inside and from the outside. Finally, a violet whirlpool of darkness opened up--it was the portal.
"Well then.... I guess this is about it. But I don't think you'll be enough alone to take on your demonic father. You'll have to find other masters of the portal--they will be in disguise, but they will have certain airs of authority to them. Just look for their specific innocent-looking pin on their collar. If you ever want to come back, I'm sure they have portals and will allow you to come back, if you ask nicely." He said. "Oh yes, and I forgot--here are some other inventions that might help you." He then went on, ruffling through a trunk of items. "Here's a watch, a normal looking watch, but in emergencies it can fire tranquilizer darts. Be careful though, it has limited uses." He explained, giving the watch to the boy, "It can also alert me and my agents stationed on the other side, if you press this button here." He showed.
The boy understood and he took in the watch, getting used to its functions. After a while, the judge bade him farewell. The boy took a deep breath, shuddering all over from the fear and nervousness, and the judge put a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him: "It'll be alright. It's just a 100-percent sure version of your kind of teleportation, I would believe."
And so the boy nodded, took one last look at the place he was in, and walked through the portal.
"What's so bad about that?" The boy asked.
The response was a head shaking, a finger silencing, and a mouth continuing to speak: "There were wars; huge wars--the Battle against the Dark One in special, in which he joined forces with all the other evil men and monsters of the dimensions, that forced the Grand Masters to limit the portals, allowing only some rulers of the worlds and trustworthy men who served them to go between and open up these portals."
The boy gasped in response.
"Yes. That is correct. Ever since then, the portals have been closed to prevent the battle, which was a call too close for anyone's liking. You see, I am actually one of the prophetic men who were very helpful to the Grand Masters. I organized a neat group with other people here; some with parents who were separated from the different dimensions, Now, this prophecy's meaning has been revealed. Your father is a demon, an evil incarnate part of the remaining reborn of the Dark One in that battle against those Grand Masters."
There was silence as the judge finally finished his explanation.
"Then....what shall I do!" He practically shouted with desperation. He grasped the judge by the arm. "Please help me!" He exclaimed.
The judge thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Ah.... desperate times call for desperate measures," he said, "it seems that I would have no choice other than to open up a portal for you. But, in order to prevent others interrogating you and finding out where the portal is, you must be blindfolded." Saying this, he pulled a straight piece of cloth over the boy's eyes, and brought him down a series of complex turns and twists while seeming to go down and up at the same time.
They did it so well.... I thought, even now I can't be sure where the portal was located relative to the place I started from. Who knows, it might have been directly behind the walls the whole time!
After a seemingly perpetual amount of time, he finally reached a strange-looking machine. The judge lifted the blindfold and stated: "You may examine your surroundings now." Holograms popped up with strange symbols, and he used his fingers to drag to specific places, with the boy looking on, mesmerized. Suddenly the machine started humming, glowing, and the mist seemed to form together. There was a blinding bright flash of yellow and orange, and the heat was taken in by the boy. It felt like he was exploding from the inside and from the outside. Finally, a violet whirlpool of darkness opened up--it was the portal.
"Well then.... I guess this is about it. But I don't think you'll be enough alone to take on your demonic father. You'll have to find other masters of the portal--they will be in disguise, but they will have certain airs of authority to them. Just look for their specific innocent-looking pin on their collar. If you ever want to come back, I'm sure they have portals and will allow you to come back, if you ask nicely." He said. "Oh yes, and I forgot--here are some other inventions that might help you." He then went on, ruffling through a trunk of items. "Here's a watch, a normal looking watch, but in emergencies it can fire tranquilizer darts. Be careful though, it has limited uses." He explained, giving the watch to the boy, "It can also alert me and my agents stationed on the other side, if you press this button here." He showed.
The boy understood and he took in the watch, getting used to its functions. After a while, the judge bade him farewell. The boy took a deep breath, shuddering all over from the fear and nervousness, and the judge put a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him: "It'll be alright. It's just a 100-percent sure version of your kind of teleportation, I would believe."
And so the boy nodded, took one last look at the place he was in, and walked through the portal.
Friday, March 20, 2015
Part 10: Revealing the Truth
A Note from the author: Finally, a breakthrough! I had a dream in which I drew good art, providing good ground for a prophetic relevance, leading to...? Well, read for yourself.
She read quicker than before, eager to find out which factions we would enter.
As they were resting in the room there was finally an announcement for the test. "Please display your best talents." A bored judge announced. And the people did. Some danced, some sang, some did poorly, others did excellent jobs, and when the boy went, he obviously displayed his kung fu style fighting, but it was not that impressive without the monsters or opponents. The judge yawned through each of their performances, a nonchalant face revealing nothing about the performers' results. He asked each of they had other talents, to which they displayed their strange powers: the farmer with his ability to grow life, the woman with her little dress flapping about and transforming into wing-like structure. Our protagonist, of course, chose his elemental bending abilities, which he did with strenuous effort. And still the judge demanded more. He even gave extra supplies and options. "Entertain me." He demanded, still with that boring face, but with eyes that glinted with a hint of slyness. The boy saw a canvas by the side, with a pen and paint brush in a bucket, and was strangely drawn to it. It was almost as it it was calling to him.
Why...should I go there? I've never drawn before... He thought rationally, but his curiosity got the better of him. He slowly meandered forward while the others looked on. The judge was intrigued and someone could swear they saw a smirk, a smile, some hint of an emotion on the judge's face. The boy sat down in a chair and he started drawing. What started off as wavy lines became more and more complex. Even the boy had no idea what he was drawing, and he was astonished himself by the speed which he worked at, painting blue here and scribbling over there... it felt like hours while in reality it couldn't have been more than ten minutes. He finally finished with a flourish, signing the edge of his paper with his name. It was a beautiful lake scenery with bushes and trees, a dusty black road in the middle, with photo-realism qualities. Everyone stared, wide-eyed and gaped their mouths at the boy's display of talent. Even the judge was impressed. He finally smiled a warm smile, which earned everyone's approval and appraisal of the boy.
"My boy....what is your name?" He asked.
"The name....is...." He actually couldn't remember his name! All this time, he had never questioned who he really was. He looked around, unsure of what to do. "Well...I actually don't know my name."
The judge was surprised. "The prophecy.... it must be true.
A boy with no name,
is not of our same...
Then, why don't you make a name for yourself?"
The boy was in deep thought. What was he to be named? He remembered once again the flashes of his memory. "Darius," he decided.
A boy with no name,
is not of our same,
With a demon-like predicament,
A tragedy that left a ligament,
He was a missing prince,
Left from his origin place since
The judge repeated the first part of the prophecy in his head over and over. He thought of the strange festival for giving gifts for the "Crowned Prince of Darius", even though few people came to even claim to know about this prince. He asked the boy to come with him into his room. He explained that earlier on "Mastermind" had already sent a letter to him explaining the situation, and that the talent show would only confirm his suspicions. "We have heard these strange prophecies...they always come true, and they most times they concern people who are no our kind, such as chosen heroes, or malicious monsters. I must conclude from this prophecy and the evidence given," the judge states gravely, "that you are the boy from the other dimension; and that your father has hired missionaries.... and if our interpretation is right, he wants to find you, and kidnap you."
The boy stared at the judge in horror.
Ellen stared at me in surprise. "So you really ended up in NO faction after all..." She said with a thoughtfulness. "Well, I didn't see that coming. And the prophecy... that gives me the chills."
I nodded in agreement. "I have to say, I couldn't predict it either. All the crazy things that were happening there.... there was simply no way to quickly or easily adjust to them."
She took a deep breath, composed herself, then read on with her brows knitted together in concentration, trying to predict the next unexpected plot twist.
Note: in my dreams there was no judge; although there was a talent show and I did indeed draw a masterpiece of a painting; although it is vague exactly what I drew. And obviously there was no prophecy in my dream either (how could my subconscious come up with a thing?)
She read quicker than before, eager to find out which factions we would enter.
As they were resting in the room there was finally an announcement for the test. "Please display your best talents." A bored judge announced. And the people did. Some danced, some sang, some did poorly, others did excellent jobs, and when the boy went, he obviously displayed his kung fu style fighting, but it was not that impressive without the monsters or opponents. The judge yawned through each of their performances, a nonchalant face revealing nothing about the performers' results. He asked each of they had other talents, to which they displayed their strange powers: the farmer with his ability to grow life, the woman with her little dress flapping about and transforming into wing-like structure. Our protagonist, of course, chose his elemental bending abilities, which he did with strenuous effort. And still the judge demanded more. He even gave extra supplies and options. "Entertain me." He demanded, still with that boring face, but with eyes that glinted with a hint of slyness. The boy saw a canvas by the side, with a pen and paint brush in a bucket, and was strangely drawn to it. It was almost as it it was calling to him.
Why...should I go there? I've never drawn before... He thought rationally, but his curiosity got the better of him. He slowly meandered forward while the others looked on. The judge was intrigued and someone could swear they saw a smirk, a smile, some hint of an emotion on the judge's face. The boy sat down in a chair and he started drawing. What started off as wavy lines became more and more complex. Even the boy had no idea what he was drawing, and he was astonished himself by the speed which he worked at, painting blue here and scribbling over there... it felt like hours while in reality it couldn't have been more than ten minutes. He finally finished with a flourish, signing the edge of his paper with his name. It was a beautiful lake scenery with bushes and trees, a dusty black road in the middle, with photo-realism qualities. Everyone stared, wide-eyed and gaped their mouths at the boy's display of talent. Even the judge was impressed. He finally smiled a warm smile, which earned everyone's approval and appraisal of the boy.
"My boy....what is your name?" He asked.
"The name....is...." He actually couldn't remember his name! All this time, he had never questioned who he really was. He looked around, unsure of what to do. "Well...I actually don't know my name."
The judge was surprised. "The prophecy.... it must be true.
A boy with no name,
is not of our same...
Then, why don't you make a name for yourself?"
The boy was in deep thought. What was he to be named? He remembered once again the flashes of his memory. "Darius," he decided.
A boy with no name,
is not of our same,
With a demon-like predicament,
A tragedy that left a ligament,
He was a missing prince,
Left from his origin place since
The judge repeated the first part of the prophecy in his head over and over. He thought of the strange festival for giving gifts for the "Crowned Prince of Darius", even though few people came to even claim to know about this prince. He asked the boy to come with him into his room. He explained that earlier on "Mastermind" had already sent a letter to him explaining the situation, and that the talent show would only confirm his suspicions. "We have heard these strange prophecies...they always come true, and they most times they concern people who are no our kind, such as chosen heroes, or malicious monsters. I must conclude from this prophecy and the evidence given," the judge states gravely, "that you are the boy from the other dimension; and that your father has hired missionaries.... and if our interpretation is right, he wants to find you, and kidnap you."
The boy stared at the judge in horror.
Ellen stared at me in surprise. "So you really ended up in NO faction after all..." She said with a thoughtfulness. "Well, I didn't see that coming. And the prophecy... that gives me the chills."
I nodded in agreement. "I have to say, I couldn't predict it either. All the crazy things that were happening there.... there was simply no way to quickly or easily adjust to them."
She took a deep breath, composed herself, then read on with her brows knitted together in concentration, trying to predict the next unexpected plot twist.
Note: in my dreams there was no judge; although there was a talent show and I did indeed draw a masterpiece of a painting; although it is vague exactly what I drew. And obviously there was no prophecy in my dream either (how could my subconscious come up with a thing?)
Monday, March 2, 2015
Part 9: Crash landing in unknown territory!
She read with great ardor, and was possibly even better than me.
The hot air balloon was sailing fine, but then an unusual jerk in the winds left it tilting left and right, the passengers narrowly falling outwards. The balloon crashed into the tree, and the passengers fell out, some of them bruised, others barely harmed. The boy was one of the luckier ones. He managed to drag out some of the more heavily harmed passengers, who aided him to lift and support the rest of the crew.
As they wandered around they saw a guide man. "Ah, yes, I was expecting you all...." He stated, spreading his arms, "...but I wasn't expecting the winds today to be so sinister. That would mean they forebode a shadowy presence...no... that can't be right..." Muttering to himself, he brought the others and told them about the warring and factions within the area. "We are in the green faction, as you can tell from the flag color. This is perhaps the most peaceful faction, which relies more on diplomacy and infiltration in order to make peace or disable the other factions. I didn't want to shock you in case there was a war within another faction. Here's how the history goes: we four factions have warred on for around three centuries since these were formed. We have different beliefs, and we are unique in our own ways."
"You are in the green faction?" The farmer asked.
"Ah, no sir. You see, being the guide, I have to be neutral if I want to be able to tour all the four factions. I help them all, I resist them all; I travel all around. I am one of the only people who knows and is well-received by all four rulers of the empires."
"How do we figure out which faction we belong to and what is unusual about us?" The woman questioned.
"You will be put in an aptitude test to find out which color is the best for each of you. Be warned, however, that the test is not always one-hundred percent accurate. You can always change your factions, but you have to make your case pretty persuasive. Regardless of your faction, though, you can always seek me in those grey tents if you need my help. There are other agents in the grey field that can help you."
The four nodded and then went on to the aptitude test, a big building that looked like a stadium located in the center of the four factions--the exact center. They all nervously chatted among each other, wondering whether they would end up in red or green or blue or yellow.
"Which one did you end up in?" She asked curiously,
I smirked mysteriously in response. "Ah, read on. You'll see in a few pages... you'll see."
NOTE: There was a tour guide in my dream; although he did not explain any sort of history to us. Furthermore, there was war happening in my dream, contrasting against what this story claims. There was of course, also no "aptitude test". That only gives excuse for what is about to happen within another dream, as well as setting up for another different dream.
The hot air balloon was sailing fine, but then an unusual jerk in the winds left it tilting left and right, the passengers narrowly falling outwards. The balloon crashed into the tree, and the passengers fell out, some of them bruised, others barely harmed. The boy was one of the luckier ones. He managed to drag out some of the more heavily harmed passengers, who aided him to lift and support the rest of the crew.
As they wandered around they saw a guide man. "Ah, yes, I was expecting you all...." He stated, spreading his arms, "...but I wasn't expecting the winds today to be so sinister. That would mean they forebode a shadowy presence...no... that can't be right..." Muttering to himself, he brought the others and told them about the warring and factions within the area. "We are in the green faction, as you can tell from the flag color. This is perhaps the most peaceful faction, which relies more on diplomacy and infiltration in order to make peace or disable the other factions. I didn't want to shock you in case there was a war within another faction. Here's how the history goes: we four factions have warred on for around three centuries since these were formed. We have different beliefs, and we are unique in our own ways."
"You are in the green faction?" The farmer asked.
"Ah, no sir. You see, being the guide, I have to be neutral if I want to be able to tour all the four factions. I help them all, I resist them all; I travel all around. I am one of the only people who knows and is well-received by all four rulers of the empires."
"How do we figure out which faction we belong to and what is unusual about us?" The woman questioned.
"You will be put in an aptitude test to find out which color is the best for each of you. Be warned, however, that the test is not always one-hundred percent accurate. You can always change your factions, but you have to make your case pretty persuasive. Regardless of your faction, though, you can always seek me in those grey tents if you need my help. There are other agents in the grey field that can help you."
The four nodded and then went on to the aptitude test, a big building that looked like a stadium located in the center of the four factions--the exact center. They all nervously chatted among each other, wondering whether they would end up in red or green or blue or yellow.
"Which one did you end up in?" She asked curiously,
I smirked mysteriously in response. "Ah, read on. You'll see in a few pages... you'll see."
NOTE: There was a tour guide in my dream; although he did not explain any sort of history to us. Furthermore, there was war happening in my dream, contrasting against what this story claims. There was of course, also no "aptitude test". That only gives excuse for what is about to happen within another dream, as well as setting up for another different dream.
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