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The Evaluation Crystal(Pa
Chatterbox: Inkwell
The Evaluation Crystal(Pa
The Evaluation Crystal(Part 1?)
Ah, that felt both good and cringy at the same time. Whatever. This is a story ive been commiting myself to for a few months now. There's a whole busy semester in front of me but i'm still going to stubbornly post this here, or else i'm afraid there's never going to be a chance to force myself to write so much words. This thread might die in a month. Whatever! I worry too much.Ahem. Sorry.
About this story, its still in the workings, so I think there is at least a need to explain something.All the characters in this story are cats, or at least catlike in appearance. Yes, I know that sounds strange, but bear with me for this please. The default setting is walking on two legs, human level intelligence... I think you can understand. Walking on four legs will be explained later, as will extra appendages (as in horns, 4 pairs of ears, or a fire grate and added fire in one's chest in the case of the main character) Please don't fuss over biology...
Enough of that. More explanations will come in time, and suggestions are very welcome!
Prologue
The
winter sun cast its blurry rays down on the wooden platform, creating small
patches of light that scurried across the moldy planks and hid into cracks
along the rusty nails. There was the scent of death in the air, dark and musky.
It cast a shadow on the amassed crowd, suffocating any sound that attempted to
escape from the city square.
Despite
the silence, noise still existed. It was the wordless humming of numbers, the
background ebb and flow of breathing and shifting that drilled into one’s ears
like a power hammer. They all knew what was happening here, and the crowd
waited to see The event take place.
A judge
hurried onto the platform. Clearing his throat, he announced simply to the
crowd: “Enter the fanatic.”
A murmur
traversed the mass as two guards pushed a person to the middle of the platform.
His fur was matted and dirty, hands bound by a heavy chain that draped to the
floor, clinking darkly whenever he stepped forwards. The guards forced him down
to a kneeling position with his back to the crowd.
“Fernadier
Time, you are charged with attempted treason against the royal family of Lifen
and crimes against the united races. Do you accept this accusation?” The judge
asked.
There was
no response from the prisoner, who looked as though he was too weak to respond.
After a
painfully long pause, he opened his mouth. “Yes.” His voice, barely even a
whisper, echoed around the square.
“Fernadier
Time, the punishment of treason is death by law. Do you have any objection?”
The judge continued.
“No.”
Came the tardy answer.
The crowd woke like a feral
animal. Shouts and cries of outrage exploded from the city square, insults and
curses flew like bullets. The judge held up his hands for silence, but no one paid
any heed to his calls.
The prisoner was still kneeling there silently as the crowd
raged behind him.
“Enough!”
The flustered judge threw up his hands.
The crowd
muted instantly, as if a switch had been thrown. The square resumed the silence
of morning, as thick as pea-soup. The judge ran off the platform, glad to leave
the wild mass of people, leaving only the prisoner and his guards on the stage.
There was
the step of a newcomer.
A step, a
creak of planking, a clattering metal sound on wood, repeat. The lone
executioner made his way into the crowd’s sight.
Arriving
in the middle of the platform, the executioner, whose face was hidden from view
by a cloak, nodded at the two guards, who retreated a few steps away to stand
at each side of the platform. The figure then repositioned
himself beside the prisoner.
The
condemned raised his head and smiled at the face of death. “You made it in the end, Gray.
Always late for important meetings, but never for funerals, eh? Mourners are
hard to come by these days, we just had enough for Spencer last time.”
The
executioner said nothing. The prisoner continued. “So much for that. How has life been recently?
The royal pay good?”
Gray stafed at the criminal. “Where is he?” His
voice was trembling.
“Him?”
The prisoner glanced at his reflection. Green blazing eyes
dimmed by drugs. Turquoise fur dirtied with grime. And, in his chest, the fire grate and fire behind
it. It had stopped burning only days ago, the furnace of his life-force reduced
to fading embers imprisoned in a dented cage.
He
chuckled lightly. “He… no, why should I tell you? He never… liked me, cared for
me… No one does, in the end.”
“Tell me,
Fern.” Gray’s blank voice made the prisoner shudder, he who only shuddered in
the face of his demons. “Tell me please. I- I beg you. Don’t hide this secret
from me.”
The
prisoner, eyesight fading, stared into the darkness of the hood. He might have
just made out the sparking eyes under that shadow, the gray fur that he had
seen so many times in the past.
He smiled
painfully. “In your respect... only this one time, Gray.” A pause where the
prisoner seemed to go through a painful convulsion of memories, eyes blurring
over. “…He sleeps in the pass to Tenebrous, he sleeps deeply…I never woke him…
neither can you.”
A
silence, as the executioner looked down at his ex-comrade, completely at the
mercy of his hands. “Thank you.”
“Get done
with this now,” The prisoner sighed. “My heart tires from beating. It’s what
you… and He always wanted wasn’t it? For one side to win… no matter which side
was good… for peace…” He laughed, a hoarse and hollow laugh likable to a broken
drum. “For peace... no matter ours or theirs…”
“Any last
words?” It was unneeded, but the phrase still came to Gray’s lips.
“Last
words? Ah…” a silence, then the prisoner raised his scarred face to the sky. “A
second chance, and it will never go this way, ever again.” He closed his eyes
as the cold wind of the cruel world whispered into his face one last time. “I
regret it all.”
Gray
raised his weapon high over his head. The sunlight blinked-
And was
gone.
(Gosh this is long... congrats to whoever made it down here!)
submitted by Ultimatium, age 15, Floating in the cosmos
(February 4, 2023 - 12:01 am)
(February 4, 2023 - 12:01 am)
Wow! Love this so far. Can't wait for more!
(February 4, 2023 - 5:03 pm)
(February 4, 2023 - 5:45 pm)
For goodness sake sorry admins... I just saw the little whamacallit? Reply to me, i guess.
Gosh, never thought it would be too horrible to read like that. I wrote it in the middle of the night, my brain tends to write stupid and terrbile things during that time period.
Sorry(X100000 times) Apologies(X500000)
Can I still post the rest? I swear, it gets less darker. For the next 10 chapters.
*hopeful and very ashamed at the same time*
Yes, you can see how I edited your first part. I posted it a little while ago. Thank you for understanding.
Admin
(February 4, 2023 - 5:57 pm)
Don't worry about it too much; many of us have tried to post things that mean a lot to us, but that were deemed too personal or dark for the Chatterbox. I'm certainly no exception! It'll most likely get easier to follow the guidelines as you hang around here more, though. :)
(February 5, 2023 - 12:24 am)
Mmmmmmmph, to be fair it's rather disheartning for 1. The format to be mesed up for unknown reasons, and 2. To get yellow-flagged in the first 1000 words of writing. But giving people panic attacks is the last thing I want to do because of a story.
Seeing that I already started this thread, I shall continue it as best I can. If my writing style is too shadowy for comfort just tell me please, at least then I will know when to discontinue it. Sorry a thousand times once more in advance.
Chapter 1 (Part 1, because the whole thing's too long to post in one go)
Welcome Back
"You all betrayed me. Why? Why?"
The darkness in front of Fern's eyes shifted.
You are mistaken.
“Who goes there?” Fern tried to locate the sound.
Fire of water, earth of wood,
An endless cycle of the golden sands.
May the hourglass stand tall once more,
And never fear these shattered ends.
The distant echo in the darkness, wispy and enchanting, did not calm Fern's tangled nerves. Couldn't he have some peace and quiet?
Go seek the pearl, the orb, the blaze, change the written, wake the dead.
You must not trust the fall, the mask, for they only shadow the way ahead.
Open the sky, close the earth, but never believe their crimson snare.
Springwater shall guide your path, with sea, with air, with light, with-
"Shut up! Leave me alone!" Fern
erupted, blocking his ears with his hands. "Stop it!"
Ah, he wakes.
"I said, stop it!" Fern burst at the darkness, which recoiled, feelings hurt at his bad temper.
Only after did the sentence exploded out of his mouth did Fern realize a problem. He was talking. Did spirits talk?
No, not in his knowledge, he was dead.
But if he was, then what was that soft touch on his body?
Fern's eyes flew open. What came to his vison made his limbs go cold. He was lying in a soft, downy bed. There were no chains around his wrists. The room he found himself in- no, it wasn't Mooncloud. Where? He looked at his hands. He had his claws back. His tail was complete.
Fern burst out of the bed. A full-body mirror stood beside a wall, which he ran to instantly. He was 24 when he died. The reflection appeared to be only 16 with glossy fur and healthy condition. How? Fern peered out of a nearby window. It opened
to a calm clear morning street, with only a few people hurrying past closed
shops and restaurants.
A sudden sinking feeling entered Fern's heart. He
sprinted to the bedhead, where- yes, just like in his memory, stood a silver
button. Without thinking, he pressed it down hard.
This was no heaven. This was his family manor! But he
was dead! He was! Fern sank onto the bed, head spinning. He had stayed here
before, in his years at MoonCloud. But it was destroyed in the shelling of the
suburbs. How had he arrived in a place that never could exist in this world?
*******
End for now, I guess. Maybe if I get enough confidence with my writing style I'll keep this up. The parts are still half-baked, it's only because I had more time to revise the first chapters so I can post them more 'easily', if you will.
I pray that the format won't bug out.
(February 5, 2023 - 8:37 am)
If you suddenly want to write fiction, you need to first take two asprins and lie down in a dark room for two hours to wait for the feeling to pass. If it dosen't, you should probably write a novel.
- A quote I recall from some famous writer, correct me if I'm wrong.
Chapter 1, Part 2
This was no heaven. This was his family manor! But he was dead! He was! Fern sank onto the bed, head spinning. He had stayed here before, in his years at Mooncloud. But it was destroyed in the shelling of the suburbs. How had he arrived in a place that never could exist in this world? He-
The door opened, and a butler entered. “Master, you rang?”
Fern recognized him. He was Albert, the family butler. But he caught cancer years ago, and Fern attended his funeral. How? How? How?
“Master, do you feel sick?” Albert inspected Fern’s pale face. “Is there anything I can do?”
Fern, getting ahold of his mind, shook his head to clear it. “What year is it, Albert?”
“What year? Why, master, it’s the 37th year King Phillip of Lifen has been on the throne.”
Fern blinked. “The 37th year?”
Albert nodded. “Yes master. Would you like some toast? You’ve woke earlier than normal.” Fern wiped some sweat off his face, desperately keeping his mind in order. “Yes… yes Albert, some toast would be nice.” Albert exited, leaving Fern alone in his room. Memories and thoughts were cycling in his head like a stop motion animation. The 37th year… he had just inherited his family’s remaining wealth, became a student at MoonCloud, Phillip hadn’t died, Edward hadn’t taken power over the Lifen kingdom, and The Alliance was still complete- Fern sank down on the bed. He had read of rebirth before in ancient scriptures, but, even for 24-year-old him, the incredible amount of energy needed to rip open a portal to the past was close to non-existent, and not even those methods could insert his soul into his 16-year old body unscathed. Was this all an illusion spun out by his dying consciousness? A final dream before the ultimate darkness ahead?
But if it was the past?
The 37th year… he had been saved by a troop of elementals just before he was banished from the Lifen kingdom, his original homeland. He had just learned that his family, which had been prosecuted by the rulers of Lifen during past years, founded a school and left him a wealthy inheritance in a neighboring country, which was where he was sitting now. In only the course of a dozen days, he had made the transformation from wanted fugitive to respected descendant of the noble Time family. And then? He enrolled in Mooncloud, and-
This was his third year here! But if he woke up in his manor, then this must be a holiday of some sort, wasn’t it? The previous fugitive, revolutionary, crazed fanatic, murderer, prisoner, leader of The New Alliance, second most powerful Outsider in the realm of magic now expressed his mixed emotions in two simple words.
“Goodness sake...”
Albert re-entered, carrying a plate of buttered toast which he set down in front of Fern. “Your toast, master.” Fern felt as if he hadn’t ate in years. Possible reincarnation set to the sidelines, he was very hungry. Fern started eating, scattering crumbs everywhere as the toast was steadily depleted. The bread was golden and crisp, the butter soft and salty. The flavor enwrapped Fern in good memories, the life he lived before everything went downhill. With every bite, the stiffness of death lessened, Fern’s arms limbering and picking up heat again. The unreal feeling of rebirth left his mind.
This really was the past.
Once the toast was utterly demolished, Fern felt much better. So he could start anew. The Rubicons crossed, the undoable choices, none of that had happened yet. He never plotted against the united races. He never destroyed armies, he never killed a single soul, and he never became leader of The New Alliance, never married, and never betrayed his mentor-
No one has died yet.
Fern licked his lips, freeing them of some escaped crumbs. In his heart, he could feel a small happiness start to grow. It raised its budding flowers and burst into new life, creating a mental tempest of joy in his head, like a tumulting ocean. Before, he had tried so hard to turn back time, to return to the past to save everyone. Who knew that his wish would be granted only in death? He, the enemy of all who lived. What turn of fate might have led him to this timestamp?
Fern felt a smile creep onto his face. No matter what, he was back. He looked at Albert. “Which holiday is this? I fail to remember.”
Albert bowed. “The Gnilwor’s national holiday, master. We’re halfway through.” Fern frowned. “Could you not call me that?” ‘Master’ reminded him of other things, not including himself. “Just call me Fern or my name.”
“But, master, you’re the last descendant of the Time family. It’s only fitting I address you as such.”
“I know Albert.” Fern tried to recall how the 16-year old him would react. “I… I’m too young for you to call me that, it makes me uncomfortable you know?”
The butler bit his lip. “Very well…Fernadier.” Albert picked up the plate and began to retreat from the room. “I shall be ready at the ring of the bell.”
“Stop.” Fern held up a hand. “Get my things ready. I want to pay a visit to MoonCloud right now, as soon as possible.”
Albert nodded wordlessly and left. Fern leapt up and closed the window, grinning.
Spencer… Aurora… Tic… Cerebrus… Gray… A warm glow lit up Fern’s eyes.
And you.
“I’m coming, just you wait.” He promised to the air in his room. “Just you wait.”
********
I bless the 'preview' button. It has offically become my guardian angel against formatting problems when I copy everything from Word.
(February 7, 2023 - 9:19 am)