Chapter 1: To Be Remembered
"Promise me..!" The walls weren't dimmed nor were they scattered with cobwebs. The presumed passageway was clear and open to the night sky. Her olive skin, sown tightly behind her head by strings, almost as if she were a stretched out marionette.
Two steps in front of her, a teenage boy standing with hair as dark as his shadow, which was twitching before the gruesome sight. "How can you live through all this?"
"Listen."A ghastly whisper loomed between her lips that were unable to fully touch; almost like they were stapled to her chin and nose, "Promise me that you won't let him stay here. Any sense of danger from them.. Take him anywhere. Send him to hell. I'd rather him burn for eternity than go through what I have.."
"That's harsh.." The boy frowned, his eyebrows nonchalantly raised and chin tilted up, "What if I can't escape?"
A wolf howled and a pattern of hoots entered the cave, "Knowing your lineage, I wouldn't have asked for a better friend for my son.. My soul snatcher… " She tried to smile, her lips cracking with stains of blood. "Even if they don't take action, if he tries to learn about me more than what he should already think, take him away. He's not ready for something like this. Only if he'd gone through hell will he be able to ever return here. Nothing less.."
"Where's your core?" The boy asked.
…
…
"WOULD SOMEBODY!! DISPERSE THE EVIDENCE THAT I WAS ONCE ALIVE!!" A woman horrifically sung with her voice scraping against her throat like nails on a chalkboard. A red field with a green silhouette.
…
…
"Arash.. Arash! Aras-"
There was a flare of light corroding his vision. A hand reached towards it lathered in a rich chocolatey palette. A figure peaked over, "He-yo!" It was like looking at a lamp without its shade, and the overshadowing black figure materialized. Slightly full eyebrows, hazel eyes, sharp nose, long mouth.
"The.. evidence. The evidence of one's life…" Arash held his face, glazing at a forthcoming face, "I think I had-.."
With his black hair stringing against Arash's nose, the figure raised an eyebrow, "What was that? Evidence of what?"
"The evidence that she was once alive?" Arash said to him. He held his ebony face, brushing his thick wicks out the way, he felt something wet under his left jade eye, "My heart is... transcending.. And this room is so.. Suffocating."
Zorion looked around: a tiny nightstand, blank khaki walls, a single bed and stool, even the lights were just plain white. "Well, you never were good with such tight spaces. What did you dream about? Your pulse stopped and your skin was icier than icy."
"It did?"
"Yeah!" He spat, "Almost called the nurses in! What kind of dream were you having?"
"Hm. I feel fine now. It was a red mist, with some green in it. And a woman screaming to spread the word that she had lived. But her voice was so horrifying. Haven't had chills like that in so long."
Zorion discreetly cleared his throat, trying to hide his amusement, "Arash, that was your blip."
"Wow. What gave you that idea?" He fixed himself upright, "But I'm no soldier. Blips mean action. And I wouldn't call my life very action-packed."
"I mean hey," Zorion lifted a jug of water, "the more blips, the more action you're expected to get. You remember mine?"
"Yeah. 'Surely the two of us having met was a miracle', or something like that."
"Bingo. But I saw white, not any green and red. And we aren't wasting gold on a fortune teller again. I finally have savings now." Zorion reached down below the bed, "And the color I saw was white!" And from a satchel, he pulled out a tiny rope, "Come here." He started fixing Arash dreads, tying them into the thick ponytail he usually has them in.
"I never liked the idea of blips.. It makes me feel bound by fate.."
Zorion gave a heartfelt belly-laugh, "No Arash!! You won't have it happen to you because of the blip. It's because it happened that you even had the vision."
"The hell is that supposed to be? Wisdom? And when will I know when it is about to happen?"
"You'll know when you get there, but for now, no need worrying about what's going to happen if it has yet to happen." Zorion deepened his voice, making it sound ancient and decrepit. "You have but no context either, young one. For no matter what path you choose, fate will bring the blip to you one way or another!!"
"Stop speaking like that."
"No." Zorion finished tying his hair, "One day, I'll be old and teaching youngins with my old mentor wisdom. Practice makes perfect. Gotta make it into my brain." He reached for the nightstand, where a bottle of Crystal Ale sat. With one swig, he reached back below the bed. "I know today's special so…" There was a sound of shuffling.
"Wh-"
A picture around the size of the entire wall emerged from the satchel,"So I brought you a motivator!!"
"Uh.. How could you possibly fit that inside?"
Ignoring his question, Zorion hammered the painting into the wall with his hand, "Look at that!"
The painting, green Giastone hills towering over a younger Arash with long tiny dreads and a bow with three arrows lined up on its string. A stern face with one eyebrow raised. "You always looked so.."
"Auriferous? Meretricious?" Arash said.
"What? Is that even in our language?"
Arash sighed, "How long have you lived in Giastone? Give up on those Dracuh's half-ass speech."
"Hey! Don't be prejudiced!"
"There we go. And you want to see prejudice? Walk outside the room and go ask the other contestants. I'm tame compared to the other Gia's.."
"Yeah well, be grateful for the painting."
"How'd you fit it inside the perimeter of the bag?"
"Just a tiny trip back home and snap."
"I said how, not why."
"What?? That is how." Zorion insisted, "I just put it in."- they went back and forth nonsensically. "Speaking of bags, I brought your satchel." He tossed a leather satchel onto Arash's lap, a thump onto the thick blanket he laid under. And the golden hook dangling off the top corner. "Also didn't know what books to bring. so.."
"That's okay-"
"So I brought them all."
"..." A drop of sweat dripped down Arash's forehead. "And again, how did he manage to fit that all in??" He thought to himself. "I'm entirely convinced that Dracuh's never change."
Black hair, vermillion ends. Purple vest, blue tight undershirt. Abs! His brick red eye's gazed upon the ground as it got both closer, then farther. With his cold misty breath wafting back into his nose. A small nose and thin eyebrows. And season freckles all over his cheeks. Firm jaw. None of this matters...
A door swung open, wacking this man in the face.
"C-contestant four?" A young lady said, looking around the empty khaki room and bed. Oh!" She looked down to a paralyzed man, "Contestant River!" She shook his shoulders lightly shooing away the stars around his hair.
River grabbed her hand softly and guided it back to her, "Are you alright?" He whispered.
"Uhm.. Yes. Are you??"
"Don't worry about it.." he wiped his hair over the visible red bump, "This won't stop me from destroying Arash."
"Sir.. Not to butt into personal affairs.. But shouldn't you focus on yourself rather than petty cliches?"
"You may leave now." He coldly looked away from her.
"Oh.. alright." She shut the door and went to warn the other contestants. Around ten minutes passed and all ten contestants had their doors slide open.
"Ready to get squashed?" River directed to Arash from door one all the way to ten.
"What a trite phrase.." Arash thought, "The way he speaks.. You'd think he'd be derived straight from Dracuhstone. How imperious.."
Zorion looked at Arash's dull eyes, "Still? He still doesn't care?" He cracked his fingers against one another and stood in front of his friend, "Uh, actually!!" He said with a purposeful crack in his voice, "Ur the one who's gonna get squashed!" He crammed his palms together, gritting his teeth.
"Stupid Zorion." River growled.
"May the contestants' visitors please find their way into the colosseum." Another lady said adorned in white.
"See ya, Arash! While I'm gone I'll be sure to hype up the fanatics." And then the colorful Zorion left Arash's gray view.
River pitifully watched Arash walk through the white corridors of the coliseum, waiting for just one glance, "This isn't fair." Arash's arms blatantly swung back and forth as he walked and his shoulders hung low. But his posture was just fine. "It's not." River took one step forward, and Arash slid his fingers underneath his pockets, "Resolute intent. Red burns green as vermillion inferno's trail against verdant spikes. Where's the hue akin to such combustion and salvo?"
"The seating here sucks.." Zorion looked at the top rows of the arena, "Typical Low class and High class at the bottom." He rolled his eyes, grinning as they stopped at a missing seat in the low class area. "Bingo."
A dark man with similar skin to Arash plopped down with a dusty and torn tunic and braids covering the top of his scalp, "Shoot.."
Tiptoeing through the seats of the low class, he tripped right before the dark man, his hand bending against the leather fabric of his seat. Suddenly, the man jolted up, his ass dripping with water as he ran away. Zorion stood up, bumped the leather with his palm once more and sitting onto the perfectly dry seat, "Magicccc…" He kissed his finger and pointed it to the sky, "Thank you Gods!"
"What in Gia's name was that for?!" An elderly woman bashed Zorion with the butt of her cane.
"Nanny!" a child hugged her tightly "He must be a Dracuh or dare I say, Lotuh!"
"Yeah?!" Zorion smiled proudly, "Zorion Anit Ullas is a proud Dracuhstone born Dracuh!" He pressed his fist against his chest, "What's it to you?"
"Your reputation precedes you.." The nan said. "Perhaps you should take this time to go back to your War-Ridden country." She spat on his attire, "Fighting over Gods. This is why countries should only worship one."
"Ah ah ah..." Zorion smirked at her, "Are you defying Krainin and Zetzino? Butt you with ze sword and slice you with ze shield!!"
"I could send you back there with a snap of my fingers, barbarians." She hissed.
"Ahem.." Zorion chuckled, "Do you know the punishment for crossing the border sealed from war? Is it lashes to death? Or perhaps the victim gets to choose."
"Are?! Are you threatening me??"
"Not at all! Just trying to broaden your mind- oh.." He cackled, "I forgot, you guys like to brag about how broad it already is. Like that forehead, eh?"
"Y..you!!!"
"Would I ever bring him over the border.. She always said if the going gets tough, then would I... And with this blip appearing of a woman eager on remembrance, whether that be forgotten or not.. I'd rather his 'action' be there than here. He's.." Zorion shut his eyes and dissociated out of the world, appearing in a cloud inside a cave.. At least he felt like one. He witnessed himself in front of a crying woman who was pleading with him. And in turn, he saw him hold the woman.. But then the him in the past looked right at the cloud. Afterwards he reassembled back in his seat, "I.. never said I wouldn't.. Just that I was against the original idea.. But lately.. I've been trying to push them away. But I think I found a way out." Zorion clapped back in his body, looking at the hag behind him.
"Eh.. Not too much into racism or prejudice like you folks are." he snapped a smile at her, "You're lucky I find humor in everything!!"
"Tsk.. Those who claim their traits aren't true of them."
"Difference.. I'm just self-aware. You choose to let things bug you."
"Attention all fellows, gentlemen and gentlewomen, boys and girls!" Zorion watched as the sky made way for an inner platform high above attached to the roof of the structure. A voice came from it. "I will now introduce our seven competitors. Ahem!" He took a deep breath. "Saraha, Dinakaran, Zefron, River, Alabasta, Elizabeth, and Arash!"
"Bingo.. Time to go." He smacked his tough leather shoes and smeared his fingers on the ground as if something nasty had gotten on them. His seat, along with the ground just below him shot up into the sky, which brought him right to the platform. It looked as if the stadium grew a tail, but it soon retracted back to normal and not before Zorion had already stepped off. The crowd was in disbelief; such crude displacement of magic. The nanny behind his seat trembled in her wrinkly pink dress. Zorion grabbed the microphone off a dark man who was dressed in white vest, bushy eyebrows, snake-like eyes, and an afro.
The afro man was in awe, "What are you doing up he-" The microphone shuffled and gave the crowd's ears a beating.
~~~~~"Attention EVERYBODY! I HATE TO BE A HYPE-MAN BUT MY DUTY CALLS FOR IT! BE READY! ARASH WILL NOT DISAPPOINT!! AND HE IS MY OWN BEST FRIEND!!!" His statement echoed into the large tunnels at the bottom of the stadium. Arash wiped his forehead in embarrassment. "What in Gia's name is he doing??"
"I know that voice anywhere?" River stated, then glared at Arash.
"EVERYBODY HOLD ONTO YOUR SEATS! HERE HE COMES NOW! HE WILL NOT DISAPPOINT!" Then he sat at the edge of the platform with no way to get down. He pulled magical glasses out of his bag which enhanced his vision like a dragons.
Arash, River, and the other participants walked towards the opening out of the tunnel. A bright white light covered the arena where they would soon step foot in. The sun was then covered by a group of clouds, shooing the blinding light away. Arash was first to go, he followed a lady to a wooden hut where a mahogany railing kept him from going further. There were three hundred stands that swung from the ground. A bullseye on all of them around the size of a bronze coin. The lady gave Arash a rough bow and took his satchel. She handed him five dull arrows in a quiver and left into the blank world.
Arash stood like a statue. His breathing went in… out… in… out… fully controlled. He slid his fingers against the rugged bow each contestant was given. Splinters dug into his fingers, but he didn't flinch.
"What is he doing..? He's been standing there for almost three minutes!" Zorion bit his lip in anticipation. The crowd started to murmur and whisper to each other.
Arash grabbed an arrow from a quiver on his back. The crowd grew silent when he made a move. He lined up the dull arrow, which was given to everyone. "To pierce the bullseye with such a dull arrow." He mumbled. He closed his eyes for a second as the breeze consumed his body.
"Such concentration.." River stated to the other contestants, which were still in the tunnel.
One more deep breath and he opened his eyes. But suddenly- in his view, a dark arm reached over his shoulder. It pointed its hand at one of the coin sized bullseyes, it was the one far in the back. Unseeable to the human eye. The hand snapped his finger, pointing them at that particular target in the far back. "Right there. We aim for it." The echoey voice said.
Arash's voice was suddenly squeaky, and he held a bow the size of his entire body. "Got it!" He tried to speak calmly. "But what about all the trees? Won't th"-
"No other thoughts, no other colors, just the red on that bullseye." His father said.
And Arash held his breath, then let go… sending the arrow off into the array of black and white. Zipping forward through time into a singular droplet of water, falling from the looming gray sky.
The shade of gray darkened as Arash walked through the garden of one of Giastone's many cathedrals. Passing by illegal graves until he got to two piles of rocks. In the distance, Klyvite's City, popping confetti over their walls to celebrate the winner of their Archery Festival. This was a few hours after it had ended.
"Here lies.. Mother and father." Arash said to Zorion who was right behind him. "How come you never let me come alone?"
"Cause you'll dig up the body!" Zorion laughed. "Why wouldn't I come with you? A brow can't lift without the other."
"I like that one." Arash softly chuckled.
"I've said it before. You probably forgot.."
"I don't forget. At least, I try not to." Arash picked up one of the rocks and inspected it. "Everytime I come here, I smell something off."
Zorion raised his right brow, "Wh..what do you mean?" he felt his heartbeat start to pick up and his shoes anxiously shook, "Is this why you came in second to River? He wasn't happy at all about that."
"I don't care."
"Yeah but.. You should-"
"Zorion!" Arash clenched his hand into a fist, "I never could see my mothers body, could I? I want to see it. I saw my father's. But my Mother's was.."
"She was cremated." Zorion intruded. "Shit… Shit… This is.. Baaaaad. You're at least four or five books ahead!!"
"You aren't digging where your mother was buried. It's unnecessary." Zorion told him.
A tremble came from Arash's voice, "I know. I won't.. It's just sad to think about. Because I smell something here that I only could smell when I was a kid." He finished, walking through a black metal gate, shooing the webs from the spaces between bars, "These webs, it's sad."
"How so?" Zorion followed him.
"They signify neglect. Unimportance." And Arash gazed upon the hundreds of grave- stones before him. With their fairytale round tops and semi oval exteriors. "I didn't place a lavender flower down this time because I've accepted no healing magic will ever stitch me back up." Then, he walked through the graves, stepping over the rugged dirt in front of the stones, running his finger along each round top, gathering dust under his fingernail.
A raven cawed from the cathedral, soaring to the trees sparsely set across the cemetery. Bristles of small plants flew inside a whirl of wind, adorning the chiseled gray stones. And with his eyes closed, the sweet smell of caramel and the crunch of leaves in his ears got closer to him.
"You know what I'm thinking, don't you?" Arash looked off into the distance.
Zorion sighed, "Yeah, I know.."
"Each grave holds a shallow and empty soul. Or body. Or whatever it is that makes us, us." Arash uttered, "I had a dream a few nights ago of my moth-".
Zorion coughed out a ball of spit, slamming his fist against his chest, "What would you do, if you knew how you were going to be remembered?"
"I don't care about if I am remembered." Arash said. "Zorion, there's nobody here that I know." A splinter, must've been from the bow earlier.. It flipped horizontally inside his throat, stabbing his words, "As more die, the memories of the deceased begin to fade alongside them until no one remembers them at all."
Zorion watched Arash look back at him, "How sad is that? Shouldn't everybody be remembered? The evidence of those who once lived." He cleared his throat. "Will it ever reach the western lands of Mantuhstone?.. Or do statues need to be built just to mark someone's importance in the world.. Even then, statues aren't enough to sustain a memory. Because one day they will turn to a pile of dust." He took a deep breath. "All of us are living lives.. And that's already a hard enough task as it is. So is it too much to ask for their stories to be accepted and understood?"
Silence filled the air, "Should I.. Should I send him there? War, Racism, Bloodshed. And even more to come. And yet, is that safer than here?" Zorion looked him right in the eye. "We can't control what others do, so why don't we at least make sure we don't fall into the same 'trap' as them?"
"I told you, I don't care for my.."
"You should. If people see you in a certain light, they'll follow. And it'll spread like a wildfire, wouldn't it? An old hag behind me at the festival mentioned something before you came out to compete. Told me to go back to my country, long story short."
"Are you trying to bring me to Dracuhstone?" Arash looked at him shamefully up and down, "Are you serious? Putting me in an atrium of pure Dracuhs? I'm not like you all. I don't belong there. You all were born with something I wasn't blessed with."
"And that is?"
Arash started to walk away, deeper into the yard and up the stairs of the white cathedral, "A palette."
"In your blip.. You saw Red and green? Like your eyes, right? At least you have two colors. And Arash. How ignorant have you become? I don't know what world you've been in. But if you know anything about me,
I can make an entire world vivid with just one color of a palette, could you say the same for yourself?"
Arash stopped, "No. I couldn't. The world is too precious to see through one single shade. Even two."
"Then you're a hypocrite." Zorion flipped his fingers from afar, and Arash fell on his ass over the stairs. Zorion peeked above his head, "Arash, how do you want to be remembered?"
Arash sighed, staring into his eyes coldly, but the warm blessing of Zorion's words comforted his heart like a heated blanket in the winter. "No Archery Festival for another three years.. So fine. I'll go to Dracuhstone. Maybe there I can give you all something to live for."
"Dracuhstone." Zorion murmured. "Are you sure?"
"Although I perceive such people lowly, I know they share our flesh. Had you asked anyone else here, they would've formulated some reason to have you imprisoned."
"So? The verdict?"
"It's war-ridden. I am not fond of Dracuh's either. You're the only one I like. But I'm sure not all are like you. Isn't that why you were abandoned here? And we can't do much because of the war."
"Then we join a side and win. Simple.." Zorion said, "It doesn't always have to make sense. If we waited for sense on every choice we made, we would be stationary our whole lives. For an infant to walk, they must take a first step that they know nothing about. And I would love to see my home-land. I have magic, you don't. We need each other."
"For what could you do without your left brow?" Arash chuckled, "The racism, poverty?"
"I believe that it's.. Exaggerated." Zorion stated. "Dracuhstone is better than here. This country has formed crimson stains on both our stories. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to go there. Find a nice place deep and secluded and just go from there.."
"We'll stop home. Then we'll head out. The eastern border by Crystal Bound Lake, right new Capital Homing Ground. There's a path there."
"Path's wont work. I already know how we can get there. But let's get some stuff with us. We can't go with just a satchel, right? Sometimes you have to learn to just… You have to. Hm.. 'Don't think, Feel!' That kinda phrase."
Zorion swung around Arash as they headed down a path that led to their home.
While they headed down a path that led to the mountains, a shadowy figure lurked behind them. He wore a tight violet vest, his body outlined with his blue undershirt. Right on the side of the mask was a red piece of hair peeking out. It was red and black.
Through some trees thick and thin, crisp leaves falling off them, there was a lonesome house with an invisible eye overlooking the entire perimeter of the area. Long echoes came from the forest that surrounded it. Broken bullseyes were stained on barkless spots of the trees.
The hinges rang as they hit the floor, and the door cemented them into the planks of the living room. "I want clues that they are heading for Dracuhstone! We won't let some Lost Guildmaster guide us where he does not belong!!" A raspy voice with strings as bones. The windows were sparkling and there was a room barred by planks. The man looked upon his squadron of crimson robed men, with a skull adorned on the tip of the hood. "Open that door, Clavicus."
Opening the door, it was a disaster. As if a child were told to clean, but he shoved everything into the closet or under his bed. "Ashley's room, no doubt." The man said, "I can almost feel her presence emanating. Leaving the door open, they ransacked the basement and Arash and Zorion's room. One side, spotless, and the other, half-assed. Surprisingly, a bow was on the half-assed one. "Just as I thought. They didn't grab anything. They must be arriving from the festival. And once we eliminate Zorion, Arash will have nowhere else to go."
The eye above the house blinked ambiguous. "Yeah.. Definitely four to five books ahead of schedule, shit.."
The cloaks left the house and scattered around, "We'll leave. After this, we overthrow him. Nobody's vision is stronger than that to tell such a reality."
"But.. sir.." A woman said.
"Quiet." The rasper said.
"Sir." A tall muscular robe turned around with his entangled eyebrows, "They head Northeast to Dracuhstone."
"What?!"
Arash watched Zorion jollily sprinted across the small hills and plains of Giastone as rain started to drop around them. "Aren't we stopping home?!" Arash said as he picked up his pace, trying to keep up, his satchel beating his thigh.
"Uhm.. Nope! We uh.. Can't!!" They struck a turn into a kneading forest with leaves hanging off branches like strings.
"Where could he possibly be going?" Arash ducked through the strings, "I don't even have a bow! All I have is a satchel!!" He watched as they passed by Crystal Bound Lake, "Zorion! That's the place!"
"I told you! We aren't heading that way." Zorion chuckled, sliding between trees, "Hurry!"
Arash wiped his sight along the landscape, Crystal Bound Lake leaving, but in the corner was a sudden spectral of magic. Ghostly blue and orange flames showcasing a burial into the mountain with a woman and man.
"Hey! STOP!!" Arash snapped.
With many breaths to go, Zorion turned his head to Arash as he ran, "Arash, do me a favor," he gave a genuine smile, "Shut up!!" He laughed, shooting out of the forest. Then, he felt a spark behind him, "Shoot!"
Arash felt an itch in his skin, looking behind him at the forest, a group of red cloaks zipping faster than any Lionside.
"Someone's after us!!" Arash ran ahead of Zorion, "I'm taking the lead!"
"Uh no you're NOT!" Zorion turned around as the spark strengthened, a large fading hand zooming into the two, he slapped the ground with , raising the tera beneath him and forming a wall behind them. The hand crashed against it, snapping the magic hand into pieces.
"Stop!" Zorion moved so fast not a drop of water could hit him, he held Arash's wrist while they ran along the mountains bordering Dracuhstone. He gave nothing but silence and a sharp smile. "Arash! Let's go!"
"There he is! Get him!!" The one in the front said as they shattered the rocky wall to pieces.
"Where in Gia's name are we going?!" Arash yanked his arm off of Zorion, but his friend just kept on smiling.
"Even I have my limit. Right, 'The Girl Who Never Stopped Smiling'?" He thought, then he spoke, "You must mean Dracuh's name! Hahah!" He tickled the mountainside and the ground below and just like at the Archery Festival, he shot up with Arash, scaling the mountain platform by platform.
"Who the hell are they??" Arash squinted his eyes as he rose up the mountain, "Red cloaks??"
"Uh.. The past???" Zorion nonsensically laughed. "Let's just say they're impatient and they did raid our house!!"
The cultists looked up as they got higher and higher. The leader raised his hands- strings flew out- and attached them to the mountain. With one pull, he stretched the mountainside out like a ramp. "Go up! Now! If they are getting to Dracuh's border we can do nothing after they pass it!"
Zorion and Arash kept rising from platform to platform. Upon the final one, "These mountains. Like bars to a birdcage. And now, finally I see where I belong. Where I am from!" His voice echoed within his skull, "ZORION ANIT ULLAS!! IS HOME!!!"
Arash's gaze fell, his body tensing with dread as the cultists made their relentless ascent up the mountainside. The pillar upon which they stood surged upward, catapulting them into the air above the peak as levitated above the snow-capped summit. Men, adorned in sleek black uniforms and armor, vibrant strips of orange and yellow ribboned across the stark backdrop, the figures moved with order, holding a single Lionside by his binds with an assortment of prisons with their mouths muffled. But the Lionside.. His spotted pelt a stark contrast against the sudden snow.
Meanwhile, Zorion, left with nothing to hold on to, nothing to extend off of, which would've normally been the ground- plummeted alongside Arash into the abyss.
"Zorion! Grab hold!" Arash reached out with his canine's digging into his gums. And grabbing onto Zorion's palm, his friend smiled, "HAHA! THIS is why I said your attuned magic was 'adapting'!!"
"Shut up!" Arash tossed him towards the pillar that was decaying from the bottom up.
"Magic.. I've entered the garden." Zorion thought, "But I need to learn to turn nothing into something!! For how was this world made?!" He pushed his fingers off Arash's palm and touched the centimeters left of the pillar as it suddenly multiplied to many stones, extending downwards and pushing against his shoes to Arash.
Wrapping his hands around his brow, he hugged Arash's dark skin against his own bright white tone. Then, the stone slid under his foot to his knee and allowed them to slide onto the ground. Whilst the chaos brewed, soldiers screamed at the boys. "Turn back now, citizens of Giastone!" A bold man shouted with a sword and shield symbol on his chest, "Do NOT cross!!"
" The pillars absorbed back into the mountain, but the ramp did not. So close to the border, they ran to the guards.
"WE. NEED. HELP." Zorion scrambled with Arash behind him as the cultists appeared at the peak of the mountain, getting closer and closer to grabbing Arash.
A soldier curried beside the bold man, "Captain Raymond! What should we do? These kids shouldn't have been able to come all the way up here."
The Captain went to yell at them and draw his shield, but was cut off by the glowing blue eyed cultist shouting in front of his group.
"Arash! You shall bear the sins of your mother!!" His hand reached out to Arash's head, just centimeters from grabbing the gold ring hanging off his leather satchel..
Arash twirled around, his pupils flickered as he heard their words, but then, his vision went black and a woman suddenly bestowed upon the area
"MY SON SHALL BEAR NO SIN OF MINE!"
"What?!" The cultists were overcome by a powerful wind, tumbling them down their ramp, an avalanche following them. Zorion turned to see what happened- but his vision turned dark.
"Ashley! So this is what you meant??"
******* DRACUH-SHORTS*******
"ROCK! PAPER! GO!"
Arash- Rock
River- Rock
Zorion- Paper
"Yeah?!" Arash pressed his tiny chest against River's, "You think you're better all because you can throw rock too?"
"Probably.." River smirked like a tiny crazy dog, chi-wiiiiwah? "Got an issue?" His hair was short and wild, pressing their premature foreheads together.
Zorion took a seat onto the lush grass chewing on a fiddlestick. "But.. I won…"
"Just wait until the next Archery Festival!" Arash roared out, "pre-teen division is going to beat you down!"
"You sure?!" River towered over Arash, "They may think you're still nine or ten!"
"You wanna say that again, bub?!"
"Yeah! They may think you're only TEN!" River grabbed one of his braids, "Like a woman with this hair! How can you be almost eleven and STILL not have normal hair?!"
"Yeah?!" Arash kicked him off, "Is that why you spell your name like 'RIVER' when it's pronounced 'RYVER'?!"
"..." River dropped his vision, "You just crossed the line of your destination, Arash."