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alexandrie
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 Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 10:57 pm Post subject: Shachar |
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This is just the prolouge. Tell me if you like it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prolouge- Aisling
Dust. Blinding dust. It mingles with sweat and mixes with spit. It hangs in the air like a thick fog. The dust dances its evil steps. Flying into the mouths and noses of the waiting army.
The army waits. Looking up from their tasks only to watch the advancing cloud of dust that hides the enemy. They all know what is to come. Their own deaths ride ever closer in that cloud. Yet there is not a ghost of fear hovering over this army. There is one of acceptance. The acceptance of ones own fate. Of death.
I alone stand apart from the comfort of my comrades, for I must endure this trial alone. I cannot allow myself to use their strength to chase away my fear. In this spirit, I have taken my post far away from the others. I mark my place in the red sands many steps farther toward the coming cloud then they.
While I stand watching the horizon, a large black form glides up next to me. To be so massive, Shachar is very quite with his steps. The young werewolf, not many years my senior, has taken on the responsibility of leading our forces. Though he is the only one among us who shares blood with our enemies, we have still chosen him to be the leader of our foot soldiers.
“You should go up to the archers now. They are all ready to receive your instruction.” He speaks in a deep growl-like voice. I am the head of the archers; made so by Shachar himself. I know the only reason he wishes me to join my archers is to remove me from my solitude but I consent to his wishes anyway. With a single powerful flap of my wings, I lifted off the ground and flew toward the archer’s platform.
Some of my kinsmen, the remaining earth fairies, created the platform as a way to keep the archers above the battlefield. The structure is supported by a bed of sand that picks up and deposits sand as it moves. The idea was that it would move forward as the army did. It now seemed more like a trapping device than a brilliant battle tactic.
Soon our wait for the cloud of death was nearly over. Even those among us with the dullest eyesight could now see the shapes of our enemies. There were goblins and ghouls as well as the more beautiful sides of evil. Vampires and werewolves also helped to form the horrid army. We could easily see division in the charging mass. They seemed more like a feuding group forced to work together than an army of one heart. Yet even as those on the ground were divided, the enemies who came at us by air were all one force.
The dragons, a wondrous and majestic race, turned evil by their latest king, were the main reason for the coming war. They had chosen to destroy the fairy race. They had attacked our kingdom, destroyed our great city, and killed those we loved. Now they would pay the price. Every fairy’s secret intention was to kill every dragon in the skies. We would succeed. We had to avenge our mothers, daughters, fathers, sons, brothers, sisters, and friends as well as those fairies we never knew. We would not let then die without destroying the takers of their lives.
Before I could shove these thoughts to the back of my mind, the enemy was very nearly upon us. I pulled my bow from my quiver and drew my first arrow.
“Make ready!” I ordered. “Take aim!” Every archer fitted an arrow into their bow and took aim. “Fire!” The arrows rained down on the enemy. Their front line stumbled, fell, and lay completely still. Their fellow soldiers leapt, stepped, and tripped over them without paying them any mind. The line of evil continued to come forward. I gave my set of commands again. Another line of the enemy fell.
We had no time for another attack on their lines; our front line was seconds from impacting them. I held my breath and watched as Shachar ran at his first target. The vampire he was aiming for was down before I could register that Shachar had attacked. He had clapped his jaws around the vampire’s neck and bitten off his head. As I tried to recover from the mental blow dealt me from seeing the attack, I realized that Shachar was far away from where my mind was stuck. By the time I looked at him, he had created a line of carnage that extended deep into the enemy ranks. His path of death grew by the second. Giants, vampires, and ghouls alike fell to the black blur.
When I got my head back, I hurried to ready another arrow. All of my arrows are specially made for a particular job. I have everything from super-strait shooters to silver-tipped, werewolf-death arrows. I shared my arrow making techniques with all of my best archers. All of them have similar artillery. I chose a vampire-killer arrow and had Enat, one of the fire beings running around on the archers tower for that purpose, light the tip. It flew from my bow in a perfect strait line right into the chest of a vampire. The soldier became a heap of ashes just as Shachar pounced on him. Shachar stopped his deadly advance to turn and look at me. Our eyes met for only a millisecond, but that was enough to makes us a team.
Shachar did not advance further into the enemy. Instead he let them come to him (or more close in around him). For a little while in the beginning he had nothing to do. I “gunned down” every enemy that got near him. He sat, staring at me from the battlefield for some time. It took me a few minutes to notice him sitting in the middle of the ring of bodies I had created. I was far to engaged with shooting the enemies around him at an extremely rapid rate to notice his blackish-red eyes watching me. By the time I saw him sitting there. I had made a very large ring around him. I smiled and lowered my bow.
He shook his head at me and bounded out of the ring. From then on I was more careful not to destroy everything. I was my job to keep him alive, not to keep him out of the fight. I shot anything that tried to come at him from the back or thinned the pack around him if he became to crowded to fight properly.
Since I was less occupied with Shachar, I had a chance to save several other lives. Giants had surrounded a few of our fairies on the ground. I guess a few other archers had the same idea I had because the giants all fell to arrows at the same time. The cornered fairies looked up at the archers with thankfulness then charged back into battle.
I turned my attention back to Shachar and found him in a very bad predicament. He was being attacked by four different vampires at once. Hurriedly I fitted a vampire-killer arrow into my bow. It caught fire immediately as it was set. I shot it directly into the vampire to Shachar’s left and fit another arrow. My next shot I knew had to be perfect. I aimed at the vampire just behind Shachar. I could not let the arrow fly until I had a clear shot and Shachar was making that very difficult. Finally he moved just enough to give me a shot. The arrow whizzed through the air. Just before the arrow past him, Shachar bucked upwards. The flaming arrow caught him in his left shoulder. It ripped through the soft flesh next to his neck, passing completely through him before it continued on its intended path into the vampire behind him. Its tip, still burning.
He howled in pain. It was a sound more befitting a puppy than a general. His fur caught fire. He howled again. I dropped my bow in shock and watched in horror. He collapsed on the ground. The flames continued to eat at his fur and flesh. I leapt from the platform and dove for him. I pulled out just before I it the ground and ran to where he lay. I could not touch him while he was on fire. Instead, I shot a stream of water at his shoulder. He whimpered softly. Desperate to ease his pain, I stopped the water immediately. He whimpered again. Before I knew what I was doing, I placed my hands around his wound and began to press the arrow hole together. He growled at me but I continued. I pulsed waves of energy into him but he was slow to heal.
Seconds, then minutes ticked by. I remained in my position and waited while slowly but surely his body began to repair itself. He said something unintelligible. I leaned close to his mouth. “Ssssi…..” was all I could hear.
“What is it?” I asked fearful that it was something important.
His voice was louder and clearer this time, “Silver.” For a few moments I could not grasp the meaning. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. There was silver in the vampire-killer arrow’s flammable tip. Some of that silver had come off of the arrow as it passed through Shachar. I was further contributing to killing him by sealing the silver into his body. I sent a thin yet powerful jet of water trough the wound to clean out the silver. He howled even louder than before. This time I kept up my effort.
When I was satisfied with my cleaning job I began the healing process again, it went a little faster but was still slow going. Shachar began to croak again, this time with more urgency and a lot louder, “Turn around!” I jumped up, whipping my sword out of its scabbard at the same time, and turned around. A giant was preparing to crush us with its club. Out of instinct I lifted my sword to block it. The giant was taken back by how easily I deflected its attack. It swung again from up above. Just as the club came level with the giant’s chest, it burned to ashes. The great man roared out and held his hand.
Enat slid up next to me on her cloud of warm air and smiled.
“Thank you.”
“Your welcome.”
More enemies began to attack us. We fought with our respective weapons. Enat had her fire and I my sword. Just as we finally gained a reprieve a large shadow passed over us.
I knew what it was immediately. A dragon was coming in to kill us. I summoned a bow from the water in the air and called a dragon-assassin arrow to come to me from up on the archer’s platform. Quicker than lightning, I fitted the arrow and shot it right into the dragon’s heart. It fell from the skies with a loud dieing trumpet. Enat suddenly sprinted away from me screaming. I looked up. The dragon was going to drop right where I was standing. I turn to pick up Shachar, but he was gone. I quickly searched all around with my eyes. He was no where to be found.
_________________
Aqualunar
Through the whirlling torents, I carrie on.
Last edited by alexandrie on Thu Apr 08, 2010 9:54 am; edited 2 times in total
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| Posted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 5:01 am Post subject: |
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| Oh very interesting at first I thought it was an army story, but then I saw it was about fantasy, maybe you had an original idea of an army, bu then liked the idea of fantasy more. I think this should be interesting to see where it goes. Now Where have Shachar gone. Maybe you'll see Shachar somewhere hiding somewhere and then gurgles about not wanting this war, or someone stole the body and you find Shachar in a dungeon. So to say Shachar is badly brused.
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Klafarius
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| Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 12:07 pm Post subject: Re: Shachar |
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| Awesome begining to a very interesting SG. I can't wait to read what happens next.
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alexandrie
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| Posted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 8:17 pm Post subject: |
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Thank you very much.
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Aqualunar
Through the whirlling torents, I carrie on.
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| Posted: Wed Aug 05, 2009 5:47 pm Post subject: |
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My Life Story
By Shachar Leod
I had been running for hours and I still could not stop. I heard them behind me. They were coming. If I stopped they would be upon me in moments. If they caught me… oh I shudder at the thought.
Blood leaked from the wounds they had already inflicted on me. My paws were cut and sore from running across such rough ground. I longed for the soft grasses of our camp. No, I wanted my mother. I wanted her to protect me. Then I remembered that she had stood with them when they cast me out. She had bared her teeth at me and looked at me with the eyes of a predator. Get out, she had told me.
A tear formed in my eye but I would not let it fall. I could not act like a child, now.
I ran on.
In the distance I could see very bright lights. As I drew closer I realized it was the human city. I flew into panic. The city was of limits to all of our kind. I could never go there. Then again, neither could those chasing me. Was I apart of them? Was I now on my own? Before I could make up my mind I heard them howl. They were coming faster now. From somewhere deep inside me I pulled the strength to keep running.
My mind was made up for me. I was going to the city. In almost no time at all I was running on pavement instead of earth. The sounds of my pursuers faded behind me. Yet I ran on. I encountered a human walking down the street. A woman dressed in a jogging suite. I stopped in front of her. She paused and looked at me.
“Oh you poor thing. They really hurt you those bad wolves. What’s your name?” she asked in a very high voice.
“Shachar,” I said without thinking. She backed away from me with fear in her eyes. With a loud scream, she turned and ran.
I sat down were I was standing and looked after her. Sadness filled me. No one would ever help me. I was on my own now. I would have to take care of myself.
My first order of business was to find shelter and to clean my wounds. I looked around for anywhere there might be hope for a place to lie down safely. Over in a dark yard, I could just make out the outline of a bed of leaves. I rose up on shaky legs and began to slowly hobble in that direction.
I reached the leaves much later than I had hoped but was glad when I did. I snuggled into the crackling nest but could not find a way to be comfortable enough to sleep. My wounds ached as my weight pressed on them but no matter how I moved or contorted, I was always laying on one or two. Finally, out of exasperation, I decided to morph into human form. My blood-matted fur retracted into my skin and my cut and bruised paws elongated and smoothed into human hands.
Now that my pain was relieved, I could feel just how cold the night was. A frigid breeze was blowing the already cold air across my naked skin. I burrowed deeper into the leaves and curled up into a tiny ball. Soon I fell into a very deep sleep.
When I awoke, I found myself being carried by the very woman who I had frightened the night before. We were going down a hallway in the child services building (I found this out later). I panicked immediately and fought to get out of her arms. She began to put me down but not fast enough for my liking. I leapt from her grasp and slammed hard on the marble floor. More from shock than pain, I began to weep loudly and cry out for my mother. The woman behind the front desk hurried over to us and began to ask the lady in the jogging suite about me.
“My husband found him in the back yard in the leaves he had raked yesterday. The poor little boy was shivering in his sleep as you see he had no clothing. Also there was quite a bit of blood all over the place but the boy is not bleeding,” she explained. All the while I lay on the floor crying.
The woman walked back over to her desk and made a quick phone call. In mere seconds I was whisked up from the floor and carried into small room. The room was brightly lit and barren in adornment. The only things inside were a small couch and a large easy chair. These two things were facing each other.
I was sat down on the couch next to the lady in the jogging suite. The man who had carried me in sat across from us in the easy chair.
“All right little guy, what is your name?” he asked with a smile. At that moment, the woman from the front desk came into the room and handed the man a clipboard, a pen, and a sheet of paper with writing on it. Then she slipped out quietly. I watched the adults for a minute than responded.
“Shachar.” The woman in the jogging suite flinched, drawing the attention of both the man in the easy chair and me. After a few seconds the man wrote down my name and asked
“What is your last name?” I stared at him for a moment and tried to puzzle out what he meant. My pack had never used last names.
“I don’t know.” I finally answered. He nodded and wrote something else on his paper.
“How old are you?”
“Six.”
The woman from the front desk walked in with a blanket, which she immediately handed to me. Just like last names, the concept of covers was also foreign to me. I looked at the cloth with wonderment.
“Haven’t you ever had a blanket?” she asked sweetly. I shook my head. “Well, you wrap it around your body to keep warm. Why don’t you give it a try?” she smiled. I shook my head. I was not cold. I saw no need for a blanket. “Ok. How about this, since we don’t have any clothes for you just yet, why don’t you use it to cover yourself while I go find you some pants? Ok?”
I looked down at myself. I was completely naked. I took the cover and wrapped it around my waist and sank in to the couch.
“All right, now, Shachar, where do you come from and where are your parents.” Before I answered this question, I stopped and thought. What would these humans say if I told them? I had always been told that humans were not to be trusted, not to mention that they had dragged me indoors and blocked the exit. Finally I was ready to give them their answer.
“I don’t know.” I said simply.
__________________________________________________________________
3:47 am my clock read. I had just finished my report on my life. My paper had really only taken about an hour to write. I had spent the rest of those countless hours contemplating whether or not I should write my true story or just make something up.
You see my life as it is now did start this way. Living in a human world for the last ten years has unfortunately not changed that. No matter how I try to dress it up in pretty clothes or forget about it, I am still a monster to the world around me. I had not assumed my wolf, true, natural, what ever you want to call it, form since the day of my expulsion. Somewhere deep inside I guess I hope that by ignoring the other side of myself it will just go away.
I still decided that I might as well tell the truth. I knew my teacher would just assume I was being figurative or something akin (one of the perks of AP Creative Writing). Thus I wrote out the entire account as I could remember it. I left out no details save how exactly I was adopted.
The paper had been hard to write (even if it did not take long). It had taken a feverish burst of energy to complete the paper. I had typed as fast as I could without making typos. I wanted it to be finished so I would not have to think about it anymore. Now I regretted going so fast. I felt almost completely drained and was temporarily unable to read the type on my computer screen. I sat staring at my monitor for nearly fifteen minutes before I finally gave up trying.
I crawled on hand and knee from my desk to my bed, feeling around on the floor to make sure there was nothing for me to bump into (needlessly may I add as I keep my room in immaculate order at all times). I climbed into my bed, pulled the covers over my head, and tried vainly to go to sleep.
_________________________________________________________________
Mrs. Sheldon clapped her hands to call our class to attention. Oddly enough, my class was quiet before her hands even met. We all sat watching her as she cleared her throught and gathered her papers. “Today class instead of simply turning in your papers and then stating the lesson, I thought that it would be a novel idea to read each other's papers out loud.”
The class was very quiet. We all looked at each other nervously. “Why don’t we start with Patricia?” Patricia slowly rose from her chair and walked to the front of the class. All eyes including mine were upon her. While Patricia waited at the front, Mrs. Sheldon walked slowly around the classroom surveying our papers.
My paper sat in front of me on the desk in one of my report folders. My parents had custom ordered report folders for me. The front of the black folder displays a picture of a wolf howling at the moon and my name in silver. I had painstakingly bound my paper into the cover with silver thread. None of my classmate’s papers could compare.
I was still thoroughly surprised and dismayed when the teacher whisked my report from my desk and handed it to Patricia. The whole class breathed a sight of relief while I quietly resigned to my fate.
Patricia read very much in the way I had written my paper. She read so fast that even though she was certainly pronouncing every syllable of every word they all seemed to slur together. After she finished but before Patricia could sit down, Mrs. Sheldon spoke, “Patricia dear. We all know you to be the best reader in the class. We also all know that Shachar is a superb writer. Please reread his report, and this time in a way more complementary to both of your talents.”
Mrs. Sheldon was playing a very cruel trick on me. Patricia is the best reader I have heard. I am very nearly the best student writer in the entire school. Patricia's reading skill and my writing showed when she reread my paper. For one her voice ran smoothly over the words, breathing life into them. She added feeling and inflection to the plain black and white pages. The sadness of that day blew in waves over the audience.
I sank as deeply into my chair as possible and rested my head on the desk. I pull my arms up around my ears, trying desperately to escape. But there was no escaping. Patricia’s voice did not only wrap it self around my brain but also my heart. Images came flooding into my mind. I could fell the pain of my wounds all over my body. It was torture. Suddenly the air around me felt so cold. My muscles were stripped of their strength. My heart ached and my skin burn and Patricia had only just started.
“Stop!” I yelled jumping up from my chair. Everyone stared at me. I looked around at all of the teary eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly, I sank back into my chair and held my head in my hands. I could not take it. It was too much. My body did not return to normal. I still felt the pain, the blood dripping down my skin, the sadness, the utter loneliness, the cold. It would not go away. It all haunted me.
Patricia did not finish my paper. She laid the open folder on Mrs. Sheldon’s desk and sat down. More papers were read but I did not hear any of them.
_________________
Aqualunar
Through the whirlling torents, I carrie on.
Last edited by alexandrie on Fri Aug 14, 2009 9:00 pm; edited 7 times in total
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The White Blacksmith
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| Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2009 7:51 am Post subject: |
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| alexandrie wrote: |
Then I remembered that she had stood with them when they cast me out.
...
The city was off limits to all of our kind. I could never go there. Then again, neither could those chasing me. Was I a part
...
A woman dressed in a jogging suit (you made this mistake again when you were talking about him being carried down the hall).
...
I sat down where I was standing and looked after her.
...
I reached the leaves much later than I had hoped but was glad when I did.
...
Now that my pain wascolor=red] relieved[/color], I could feel just how cold the night was.
...
“I don’t know.” I finally answered. He nodded and wrote something else on his paper.
...
I looked at the cloth with wonderment.
...
“I don’t know.” I said simply.
3:47 am my clock read. I had just finished my report on my life. My paper had really only taken about an hour to write. I had spent the rest of those countless hours contemplating whether or not I should write my true story or just make something up.
((This bit is really unclear. I had to re-read it several times to work out that he had stopped writing this paper and this was now just his voice. Put the essay in quote marks or something.))
...
I thought that it would be a novel idea to read each other's papers out loud.
...
Patricia is most definitely (unless you do maen defiantly, in which case it makes little sense) the best reader I have heard. I am very nearly the best student writer in the entire school. The skill of Patricia and mine (I'm not sure what you should really use here, but this just doesn't scan well)showed when she reread my paper. For one her voice ran smoothly over the words, breathing life into them. She added feeling and inflection to the plain black and white pages. The sadness of that day blew in waves over the audience.
...
My muscles were stripped of their strength. My heart ached and my skin burnt and Patricia had only just started.
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Argh! A lot of small typos in that. I've fixed most of the ones I saw, but you still need to read through it again, as there are lots where I just thought it too small to fix myself, or possibly there are some I didn't see. There are also a few bits that didn't really make sense - how did he know he was in the child services building? Why did the woman address him as 'little boy' and then recoil in horror when he gave his name (I realise that after this he was a wolf, but you gave no indication at all as to when or if he changed)?
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| Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2009 8:39 am Post subject: |
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oh great, Shachar meet Slade  , awsome though, very awsome
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| Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2009 9:02 pm Post subject: |
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Thank you white blacksmith.
Athena we talked about this. Besides Shachar is cooler and has more heart.
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Aqualunar
Through the whirlling torents, I carrie on.
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| Posted: Thu Sep 03, 2009 6:25 pm Post subject: |
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I'm either lost of I don't understand where you are trying to go with this. First fairies and goblins, Werewolves and vampires, an awesome battle with cunning characters and now a school marm and paper writing?  What time frame is this story set in? Ancient or Modern Fairytale?
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| Posted: Sat Sep 05, 2009 8:11 pm Post subject: Re: Shachar |
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| alexandrie wrote: |
Dust. Blinding dust. It mingles with sweat and mixes with spit. It hangs in the air like a thick fog. The dust dances its evil steps. Flying into the mouths and noses of the waiting army. |
I haven't read it completely yet, however, after reading the first sentence I simply had to comment on it. It is perfectly fine to have short sentences as song as they are sentences. The last one 'Flying into the mouths and noses of the waiting army' is a fragment as it has no subject. You can easily fix this by turning the period before it into a comma and making that F an f (which is what I suggest) or you can keep the period and turn Flying into It flies. I think it sounds better with a comma though.
Edit 1: Same thing with the next paragraph.
Okay, I've read the first part. There are too many mistakes for me to correct them all (mostly to/too errors or missing punctuations) but not too bad.
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| Posted: Thu Apr 08, 2010 9:50 am Post subject: |
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As they say: “Time flies when you’re having fun”. Trust me, it flies faster when you are living in a fog of deep depression. You lose track of everything. From smells to sounds it all runs together like watery paint were all the colors become brown. A thick sludge of nothingness was all I remembered for a very long time.
Sweet little Enat and her hyper-giggle-like voice finally pulled me into reality. “ Shachar! Shachar! Guess what! Guess what! We are getting a new student from Europe!” she nearly yelled as she ran up to me at my locker at break. I turned to her and stared at her face, bright with glee, and wondered how she could be so happy on a day that everything in my life was going totally wrong. I could not fathom how anyone on earth could be happy at all ever again in all of the future generations beyond that point in time. Then I began to compute what she said. A new student was coming to our school. That was not all that big of news unless they would some how be related to one of my friends or myself. Why had this excited her so?
“What does that have to do with me?” I asked, more out of annoyance that true curiosity. I regretted the words immediately. Enat’s eyes dropped and her smile disappeared. “I’m sorry, Enat, I just had a bad morning. But really, why is that so exciting?”
“Oh, well the principal is going to choose a student for them to shadow for their first few days. I put in a form thing and I think I have a good chance. Are you going to put in a form?”
“No. No one would want to shadow me,” especially in my present state, I thought. How could I be the foundation of a kid’s high school experience while my heart was filled with such grief? I could barely comprehend Enat’s joy and excitement and I knew her better than most other people. How could I be anything but annoyed at their giddy nervousness? I nearly spat at the thought of some young teenager tagging along behind me everywhere I went at school being loud and asking fifteen questions a minute.
I looked up at Enat after about a minute of silence. She had a guilty look on her face and avoided my eyes. “What did you do?” I asked cautiously, not really wanting to know what horrid thing she had done concerning me.
“Nothing,” she said quickly and brightly trying vainly to change the look on her face. I glared softly at her. If I were to gaze to hard I would make her cry as I had quite a few times. “Nothing,” she repeated more slowly. I glared harder, knowing that she would inevitably crack under my eyes. “Ok, Ok, don’t look at me like that. I put in a form for you too, please don’t be mad.” How could I be mad? I was more shocked than mad. I raise my hand to my face and pinched the bridge of my nose. What if I were chosen? What then? Could I just refuse and get on with my life or did I have to accept?
Worry replaced my sadness for the next few periods. The numbing effects would come back after a time but first I had to survive till the announcement. What would I do if chosen? How could I even direct a new student around our halls? I only knew the route I take to class and lunch. Other than that the school was a maze to me.
“Attention all students, teachers, and faculty,” blared the PA system suddenly, “Mrs. Sheldon’s briefcase is missing. It was last scene in her classroom during second period. If you have any information regarding its absents please come to the office immediately I repeat…” the man went on and I ignored him as I normally did. That is, until he said my name, I ignored him. “I repeat, Shachar Leod please report to the main office immediately.” I cringed. What could that possibly be about, I wondered. Did they suspect that I had taken Mrs. Sheldon’s briefcase or was it something bigger?
When I entered the main office, Mrs. Pratt smiled at me and pointed down the hall to the principal’s office. What ever it was could not have been that bad not be that bad if she was smiling.
Mr. Mallory’s office smelled strongly of coffee and ink. There were papers strone all over the desk and all over the floor. His bookshelves were barren and covered in dust. Even his file cabinets were a disasters zone. They were so stuffed with junk that the draws could not even close. The office did not look like it belonged to the neat, clean-shaven, athletic Mr. Mallory.
“Mr. Leod, it is my understanding that you are a fine and upstanding student here at De Vinci Prep,” he began. I did not know if I should nod or look scared so I kept a perplexed disposition. “ Do you know why you are here?”
“No.”
“Well them let us not dilly-dally with small talk. We have chosen you for our new student, Alex Cynid, to shadow. For the last two days of this week you will take Alex around to all you classes and introduce the kid to kids with his interests. I know you have a great many friends here and I believe the Alex will benefit from your mentoring…” I did not here anymore. I am surprised I heard as much as I did. My mind slowly became frantic with worry that this kid would attach to me or something equally as horrid. My greatest fear was that I would get stuck with a second chipper little kid. Ember is a great kid but only in doses.
_________________
Aqualunar
Through the whirlling torents, I carrie on.
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