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Rated: 13+ · Sample · Action/Adventure · #2024717
A boy, a forest, and a voice that calls to him. What more does he have in store?




Fantasy Sample #1


“Rejoice! Rejoice!” shrill voices cried out. “Rejoice for our savior has come!”


Nestled in darkness, a young boy awoke to the sound of faint cheering. He rubbed his eyes and looked to see his crowd, but, to his dismay, there was only the everlasting glow from the full moon above. In a daze, he attempted to stand, only for his knees to buckle and he fell backwards. He sighed as he felt himself coming to and heard the faintest hiss from his left ear.

“Go to him. He has been waiting,” the voice said sternly. At once, the boy rose to his feet in shock. The voice sounded familiar to him—too familiar.


He mused upon who it might be, but ultimately decided that he could not recollect it. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground, unknowingly raising his leg.


Before he knew it, he had taken a step and a red flower, looking similar to a rose, sprouted and began to glow behind him. He felt a warm breeze brush past the back of his leg and he looked behind himself, down at the strange flower. Marveling at it, he put a finger to a petal and rubbed it against the smooth texture. It responded by blinking twice and opening its central orifice, two yellow stigma poking out of it. The boy grinned at the sight. It gave him the hope that even in a forest as dark and dreary as this could have some beauty hidden within.


When he turned around, the mystical land began to reveal itself. The darkness shied away from the vibrant flowers full of purple, green, blue, orange, and yellow that found themselves mixing wildly in the various trees and bushes. The boy looked around in awe as more and more plants came to life before his eyes. The leaves had an outlining of bright green that stood out against the darker green of their stems along their bodies, and the floor grass shared this filling. The tree trunks had an outline of lighter brown that seemed to make it blend with the brighter colors even though it was of a darker hue. Enthusiastically the boy pressed on, but he soon heard the voice once more.


“Do not be so easily fooled,” it said with a hint of annoyance tagging onto its final word. The boy stopped and took another look at the liveliness around him. He stood silently, staring at the colors, but he could see nothing beyond their beauty. With a half-hearted shrug, he continued on his journey.


After a few hours had passed, he turned his head to look at the trail he had created. The stream of red flowers behind him glinted softly in the dark, illuminating just enough to break through the shade. They went back farther than his eye could see. He scratched his head thinking: It may be too late, but…where am I going, anyway?


In seconds, to his right, the bushes and surrounding plant life parted. It made a path just wide enough for his thin frame to fit. However, instead of the assortment of colors the main route had created, this new passage had alternating light and dark blue flowers that gently pulsated in unison, and lead to a single tree. Unlike the other trees, it had no leaves, flowers, or colors about it.


It was dead. Silent.


The boy, totally drawn to it, felt the sensation of familiarity once more in the pit of his stomach. He warily walked down the pathway. This tree, he thought as crept nearer to it.


When he finally met it, he couldn’t resist putting his hand against the lifeless bark. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly as a ring of blue light outlined his hand. “Ah, yes... I remember you,” he whispered.


He could hear echoes of two voices. The first was in a raspy and light tone, “Hey! Don’t touch that!”


One was his own, smooth tone, “Quit worrying! It’s just a stick. What harm can it do?”


“I don’t think that’s any ordinary stick... you shouldn’t take things outta this forest! You know it’s dangerous to—oh, ack! What’s happening to me?! My flesh—my flesh is on fire! Do something!”


A faint image appeared inside of the boy’s mind. It was of roots, dark brown with red markings, which were covering a medium sized and shadowy figure. It constricted the being caped in darkness and then slowly faded from his psyche.


“What the bloody Hell?! Great Gods, you deranged beast, I don’t see any flames! Just calm the... W-wait, now my s-stomach...my head...”


“No! Don’t leave me! Stay awake! Stay awake! Nooo!”


The boy slowly released his hold from the bark, but the ring remained. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts but then uttered beneath his breath, “Alscor.”


Immediately he was pounced on from behind. The boy struggled under a great weight until he felt a sharp pain from his left shoulder. He shrieked with a combination of terror and agony. Slowly, he felt himself starting to fade out of existence as his ears deafened, and the protests erupting from his throat had gone soft. He let out the last word he could think of, the only word that had a chance to save him.


BLUKEIL!” Instantly a bolt of lightning shot out and all went silent.


The boy shook off the weight and sat up. Breathing heavily for a few moments as he clutched his arm, he was unable to put his hand against his shoulder’s raw flesh. He wished to cry out, he wished to scream as loudly as he possibly could, but his mouth would no longer allow it. Blood quickly dripped onto his shorts and shirt and stained the ground around him. Just as he started to process what had happened in full, a different feeling of pain started running through his shoulder. It felt as though it was burning instead of stinging as the flesh mended together.


Within minutes, his wound fully healed and the pain was absent. He cautiously placed a finger where the wound had been, expecting a sharp pain. To his surprise, he felt nothing. He squinted, running his hand up and down the length of his soft skin.


“What the...” he said silently to himself, trailing off as his head turned to the dead animal that lay on the ground beside the equally dead tree.


There was enough light for the boy to make out feline-like characteristics. It had the face of a lion with a short mane and whiskers, but two short horns sat between two tall, triangle ears. Its coloring was a dark orange with gray stripes going down its body vertically. It was the size of an adult wolf but more slender. Its legs and paws were like that of a jaguar, but it had sharper claws, which were non-retractable. Behind the beast was a long tail with a tuft of fur at the end of it. First time for everything, he thought.


He stood up and walked behind its corpse. Cautiously, he stuck a foot out and tapped its backside.


It didn’t respond.


He kicked it.


It remained still.


Feeling braver, he crouched down close to it and ran a hand up and down its exquisitely soft fur. He smiled at the feel, but began to think of how he’d struck the beast down so hastily, so brutally. How could kill something so gorgeous, and so majestic? His hand shook and his eyes swelled with tears. “This…this isn’t fair!”


Suddenly the boy fell to the creature’s side and began to weep. The tears ran down his cheeks into the plush fur that he adored so much. He grasped it and sobbed hard, his body shaking. “Oh, Gods I’m so sorry... you were probably just hungry! You probably have cubs and a family and, and…” The mixture of mucus and teardrops ran down not only his face, but also the side of his victim’s pelt and onto the soft grass below. “I would’ve been a great snack for you, and I would’ve fed your adorable cubs... I bet they’ll starve and die without their mother now!” He paused and took a moment to look into its faded eyes. “Please forgive me… I’m so sorry.” He pursed his lips and began to lower them toward the dead cat’s left cheek, but, before his lips felt the fuzz, his thoughts collided with each other. He felt an uncontrollable urge to check inside its mouth. The boy took a deep breath and whispered to himself, “Alright... I’ll check just to satisfy this damned nagging...”


The boy quickly pressed his first two fingers against the beast’s muzzle flap that lay over its fangs. He pushed it upward, moving it out of the way to look upon the glass shard shaped fangs hidden within the feline’s mouth. All at once, the boy remembered the attack, and it hit him like a gust of mighty wind. Shocked, he jumped backward, his back thudding against the hard ground beneath. He wrapped an arm around himself as his breaths grew shorter and shorter. He shook with fear and frantically tried to scramble as far as he could from his source of torment. “Damnation of the Gods... What is wrong with me?” he spat onto the ground. “You, you tried to kill me. I have every right to hate you...” his breaths steadied and he released his hold on himself. “...But I can’t.”


The winds passed, making a sound that sang, “Jujungi… .jujungi... jujungi...


Jujungi…” The boy stood up and crossed his arms, looking over the fallen cat with a respectful gaze. He bowed and gave one last look to the dead tree.


“The Great Liberator! He is real! Delon amachino!” The forest uproared with the phrase as the boy turned around and continued on his way down path.






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