Tales of Neoxarde [Vol. 1] (1/3)

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Author's Notice: This will be my very first fiction novel that I would ever create. I've started this novel 5 years ago and I've almost put all my experiences, blood, sweat, and tears into this novel. All of the stress that I've received, I dumped it into this novel and all the happy memories, I've encrypted into the novel. One time, my computer was dying from a severe virus attack and I thought I had lost this novel since I've been typing it up in Word Document. Amazingly, it survived and I've finally decided to continue to post it for the public. Because this is very experimental, it's definitely not for children. Violence and profanity is often found deep within this book but I've also supported it with definite morals and meaning. I will also add that this novel is long. The chapters greatly exceeds past Chapter 50 and beyond. Due to its lengthy pages, I decided that I'm going to go by each Chapter by each. It's the best way to not spam one post and confuse readers, myself included. If you are an impatient person, I apologize right now for this will be a tale. According to the "American Heritage Dictionary" by http://www.dictionary.com, "tale" means "A recital of events or happenings; a report or revelation". It also states that a tale is a malicious story. This is tale about people, although some substituted by other "mythical creatures", it tells about the lives of human beings. It tells about the cultures, views, and religion of human kind. And most importantly, it tells about us.

[Please note that anything that you may notice familiar within the novel, whether anime, movie, story, cartoon, manga, T.V. show, book, myth, country, religion - they are most likely inspired by those categories.]
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For those in suffering, anguish, and pain. For us.
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Tales of Neoxarde - written by JamaJuice

Prologue - 100 years after the Zeal War...

          "Hey look, it's a witch!” a boy cried out as he pointed at a passing

hooded figure. “Go back to the Slave Factory, you worthless piece of shit! Your

kind are not welcome here!”

         The witch ignored the boy as she hid herself under hood of her black

cloak. She gripped the bag tighter with both hands. People in line started to point

at her, but she continued to walk along the rocky road of the outside store of

Faragath, a large town near a populous nation, Lyforgia.

She felt sharp pains on her shoulders, head, and back as the crowd threw

rocks at her. She kept her head down, humiliated as people along the stores

pointed and laughed at her.
         
        "Stupid whore!” cried a villager. “Go away! We don't want you here!”

         Suddenly, the witch bumped into a solid wall but when she cautiously

raised her head she saw three boys, snickering and smiling evilly down at her.

One of them had a dark blue jacket with ragged short pants. The other had dirty

overalls with an ugly grin on his face and a knife was secured his overall pocket.

The last one, which looked like the leader of the gang was tall and had a lanky

figure. All three towered over her with their eyes glowing with mischief. The

leader of the group pushed her as she fell backward to the ground and flipped her

hood up, revealing her frightened face.

         Be calm, Julia...

         “Well, well, look what we have here...it's a witch,” smiled the leader.

         Julia lowered her head and tried to avoid eye contact as she struggled to

gather accessories that fell on the ground.

         The leader's smile turned into a frown. “You know, when someone is

talking you look at him in the eye like a good little bitch. Do you understand?” He

kicked Julia in the sides and she whimpered in pain.

         “Maybe we need to teach her a lesson, Ray,” said the boy with the

overalls, as he pulled out his knife.

         “Shut up, Lhoin,” mumbled the leader. “Let me take care of this.”

         Then the leader spotted the bag that Julia dropped when she was pushed

into the ground. The paper handle was already torn and some of the items that

were in the paper bag rolled off into the dusty streets.

         He snatched it up and smiled as he looked down at Julia, “What do we

have here? Oh, you have some good grubs here, you wouldn't mind if we take

them, right?

         “Please...it-it's all the food I have for this whole month,” whimpered Julia

as her lips quivered with fear.

         The boy with the ragged shorts shrugged and replied, “No one cares about

you. Eating dirt is all you need.”

         Ray coughed and spat at her face and mumbled, “Bitch.”

         As the leader turned his back and walked away with the package of food,

the other two tried to get some.

         Julia wiped the warm saliva from her face as tears welled up in her eyes.

She slowly stood pain still surging through her sides and walked toward the gates

of Faragath and looked back to see if anyone was watching her. No one was

watching her leave. Just as the boy had said, no one had  if she was being

mobbed. She sighed as depression filled her heart and slowly walked towards

back where she from, the eastern area of Lyforgia.

The Beginning of a Tale

Chapter 1

         “So, do you mean we the humans fought with the witches almost 50 years

ago?” asked a college student.

         Professor Harpson nodded and said, “Witches were the most dangerous

animals in the world. They used to take young girls and boys and cook them alive

in their cauldron.”

Professor Harpson showed a picture of a young girl burnt to a crisp on the

giant chalkboard. The class gasped and groaned with disgust. The professor had

been working in the Boldland College in Lyforgia for over 20 years. He had been

studying about the history of witches but it still made him cringe to see the body.

         “So how did we beat them? With stakes?” blurted out Biggie Argon, a 21-

year-old student. He had a handsome face and a sense of humor. He was     

well-built and his hair was professionally cut and the ends of the hair was

scrunched into a ponytail. Despite his name, he was one of the shortest students in

the whole university.

          A couple of girls giggled and guys snickered, but Professor Harpson did

not smile. “This is a serious matter Biggie, and if you won't

handle it appropriately like any gentlemen then you should leave.”

         Biggie slouched in his chair, and put his feet on the table. “Can you prove

to us the war was significant in any matter, professor? Witches

aren't real. They are just ordinary humans practicing black magic. It's ridiculous

we treat them like dirt.”

         Professor Harpson cleared his throat. “Biggie, the witches have killed

millions of innocent children -”

         “And we are torturing and killing millions of witches? Is this some sort of

revenge? Or an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth?” Biggie calmly interrupted and

smiled mischievously.

         Professor Harpson tried to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth. He

changed the subject. “Biggie can talk to me after class about his inappropriate

behavior...can we go on with the subject?”

         Biggie grinned wider as the students tried to hold their laughter in. His

best friend, Jennifer Keffs rolled her eyes and smiled. Then everyone's eyes went

onto the big chart that Professor Harpson brought before them. On the chart was a

giant social pyramid filled with words and small pictures.

         “This is the modern times of our days of our social pyramid,” Professor

Harpson said. “We, the humans are the top, of course. Then it's the merchants and

the workers.”

         Professor Harpson moved down to the second block and continued, “The

second are the elves and the High Lord Clan. They helped us in the Zeal War, so

we are appreciating them in the second block of our social pyramid. They don't

need to bow, or kneel. Just respect. And we will return the favor.”

         A girl raised her hands and the professor responded, “Yes, question.”

         “How long have we been allied with the High Lord Clan?”

         Professor Harpson smiled at the question and answered, “Ah, yes, that's a

very good question. The High Lord Clan, which are centaurs, fauns, and such

were allied with the humans for thousands of years. They have formed a clan with

the humans 500 years ago, until the witches started to provoke havoc. We had to

separate unto our own ways to try to defend against the witches.”

         The girl nodded, signaling that she understood and began to jot down

notes on her small notepad.

         “Now we move on to the next block.” Biggie recognized them as Orcs.

"These creatures were very dangerous in our struggle against the witches. One

group once took out four cities, with only their mighty clubs,” the professor

pointed out with his hands.

         Jen raised her hands and asked, “Can the Orcs still harm us? Have we

found a way to prevent the problem?”

         Professor Harpson showed pictures in the overhead of Orcs holding clubs.

"Yes, we have defeated the Orcs and now they are merely workers but most of

them are Engineers due to their powerful arms and legs, they can help us build

more technological machines. But if they harm a human being or harm the High

Lord Clan, they will be punished.”

         Some of the students sighed with relief.

         “But, there are Orcs in the East and the North who are not confirmed in

the Law of Alliance so you must be careful.”

         “They don't look scary at all. I can take them down easily,” Biggie said

with a big grin.

         Professor Harpson snorted, “We can all count on that can’t we, Biggie?”

         The room was filled with laughter. Biggie winked at Jen, and she rolled

her eyes again.

         “Okay kids, settle down,” said Professor Harpson. “Now we move down

to the last block of the pyramid, the witches.”

         The room suddenly fell silent. The professor pushed his glasses up his

nose and said, “They can't harm us, because we know their secrets. We have the

technology to stop them.”

         “And what is that, professor?” a student from the back called out.

         The professor cleared his throat. “Not long ago, after everything seemed

lost, someone stepped up to save the entire human race. His name was Neoxarde.

You would probably know, because this universe goes by his name. There is very

little evidence of him, so we don't even now much of our Savior. But we’re

absolutely sure he was from God Himself. We believe he gave us some kind of

counter magic to repel the witches' spells. We use this magic and store them into

crystals and are powered by the Slave Factory. Rumor has it, Neoxarde had

defeated Zscharchas and the Great Witch of the North, Rina. The Slave Factory

has a memorial statue of Neoxarde standing next to the dead Zscharchas.

         “Anyways, continuing on with my speech, the witches have no rights, all

of them are slaves and belong on their knees. If they disobey the Law of Social

Rights, they will automatically be harshly chastised or maybe even sentenced to

be burned in the stake,” Professor Harpson explained and looked around the

room. Even Biggie had stopped talking and stared at him.

      "But witches are harmless,” Professor Harpson continued. “If you hurt

them, they can't hurt you back. If you are rude to them, they still have to respect

you. There is no rule or punishment of killing a witch. They are worthless. You

must remember that they are outcasts. And Biggie, we treat them like dirt

because they are dirt.”

         Biggie stared at him in disbelief. His thoughts on witches were old ladies

with a mole on their nose and flying around in brooms. But what the professor

had described had magnified his curiosity and imagination about witches.

         “Class dismissed.”

         Bags, books, desks scuffled as people crowded through the door. But

Biggie stayed in his desk. He had deep thoughts on his mind.

         “C'mon Biggie, let's go,” Jen urged.

         Biggie looked at her. “Jen, I'm going to the North. I'm going to the Slave

Factory. I must see what they really do out there. Heck, maybe a whole adventure

is waiting for me.”

         Jen had a concerned look on her face. “No, Biggie...you can't...it's too

dangerous...”

         Biggie held her shoulders and replied, “Jen, remember what the professor

said. Witches are harmless. What could possibly go wrong?”

         Jen was silent for a while and said, “I'm going with you then. ”Biggie

nodded. Just then Professor Harpson rose from his desk and said, “Biggie,

you can go. Next time, raise your hand, alright?”

         “Sure thing, Professor.”

         Biggie went to his house and equipped his long blade and a bag full of

food and equipment while Jen equipped a long bow and bought a few quiver of

arrows from the equipment market. They left the college grounds and started

toward Faragath leaving Boldland, their hometown behind.