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Creative Writing Share your fan fiction, stories, poems, essays, editorials, song lyrics, or any other related written work. All written must be your creation. Start a new thread, and keep replying to that thread as you add on more chapters. Anyone can join in at anytime.


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  #16  
Old 06-27-2010, 10:52 PM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]







*****

Dawn broke across a valley deep in South America some hundred years ago. Beyond the lush rainforest spotted with mammals lurking in shadows, and crisp water trickling slowly from the mountaintops, lie a small village. It wasn’t as remote as one would think, for a three day’s journey would lead any traveler to a large market district. Yet somehow, this village seemed to be the only of its kind to all who resided inside. It is here where an origin of our story began.

The sun beamed down upon the houses littered around the area, as they opened their doors one by one to send workers into the fields to harvest and into the forest to collect wood. Clouds of dust arose in pockets as some housekeepers battered soiled rugs, while others rang out wet laundry from hung lines. It was a normal community for its time, just like any other, apart from one difference.

A creature scurried from the confinement of a home in the lower-east corner of the village, its eyes sparked with excitement as it circled the vague outline of a child. Plump blue legs sprouted from a large seed resting atop its back. It was a wonder the thing could move at all, let alone hop around with such velocity.

The child yawned and stretched, embracing the sunlight, and then reached down to stroke his small friend’s chin. Such a unique creature. Resembling something of a frog and a plant at the same time. It grinned with delight and then sprang into the distance, heading for the forest surrounded by fresh greens on the outskirts of town.

It was an entirely different world in this valley. The very air felt alien. Swarms of monstrous butterflies darted from their weed coverings as the child and his companion skipped into the trees. His laughter echoed throughout the area. More strange creatures were peeking their heads out with interest from tree branches and dirt holes in the ground. Most of which would have frightened many of the people of the village. The animals of the forest were shy and withdrawn, and not entirely friendly, but they kept to themselves and so the valley was kept at peace.

The blue frog creature, however, was quite the opposite. It was only a baby for its species. Wide-eyed and innocent. This land was nothing new to it. Vines stretched out somehow from the confinement of the leafy seed upon its back, and reached for the boys hands beside it. The child giggled and grasped the vines, and together they spun around and around until they collapsed on the damp ground beneath them, too dizzy to continue a moment longer.

The elders would tell stories of these animal creatures. That they came from a far away land not long ago in search of something unknown. Yet they remained only in the forest, and communicated only amongst themselves. Secretive. Mysterious. Watching.

The child never cared for the stories. They were always told with much hostility. He had wandered into the forest alone one day, despite the warnings, and stumbled upon the frog creature sleeping within the hollow of a tree trunk. It was innocence and curiosity that kept him from running in the other direction. And when the blue reptile awoke, it made no aggressive movement toward the human. Not a flinch, nor a baring of teeth, which the child had found out only later it had when the two played tug of war with a mossy stick.

No, it was a harmonious meeting they had. The frog blinked sleep from its large, green eyes, and immediately began wagging its tail. Curiosity turned to happiness, happiness turned to play, and eventually the young boy and the young creature had become inseparable. The child called his trusted companion Bulbasaur.

With their union, most of the other animals of the forest began to trust the humans as well. Including the creature’s mother, who would often join the pair on their imaginative adventures through the jungle.

The humans however, were much more reluctant to accept the duo. Many even forbid the child’s presence near their homes while he was in the company of the strange alien.

“From the unknown, comes fear,” the boy’s brother Noah had told him one day when he came running from an angry old woman shooing him and his pet away with her broom. “Do not fret, little brother. They will come around.” He reached down to pat his sibling’s friend atop its rubbery head. “Not even a field mouse should fear this creature.” He smiled and set off to the center of town to begin his day’s work.

Time seemed to shorten whenever the boy entered the forest. Most especially when he was with his frog friend. A blink of an eye and the minutes had turned to hours, and the sun was already setting in the sky. The broad leaves of the trees turned pink and orange and the very forest seemed to turn colors before their eyes. They raced home.

Despite the flicker of peace between the depths of the forest and the inhabitants of the city, it was still unsafe to be wandering beneath the canopies at night. Not only was it impossible to have a sense of direction while the stars were hiding behind the trees, but not all animals were strange. Not all of them had this astounding capacity of intelligence and keen sense of morality. Many of them were simply brutes. Locals. Predators. Prey. The majority of them were kept at bay by the hunting habits of the carnivore alien creatures; this was a large reason why the village had prospered the most in this past year, as the herds of sheep and cattle had nothing to fear from the old threats in the forest.

One would think that gratitude would replace the resentment that the humans had towards the foreign beasts after such favors. But, it seemed to only put them more on edge. The narrow-minded would figure that once the creatures were through with the forest, their village would be next. For with one kind gesture, came another negative explanation.

All humans were opinionated differently however, as the young boy had proved. Some, albeit very few, shared the insight that the creatures were not threatening to them. They would welcome the infant reptile into their homes and revel in astonishment at its behavior, its generosity, its innocence, and most of all, its brain. They would call it “Burlen Gin”, which to them, meant “Mute Toddler”. And in a way, they were quite right. The frog was only a child, and he could not speak… to them.

With each nightfall, the frogplant named Bulbasaur would scamper back into its forest home and seek out its mother to tell her of the day’s events. She would nod and hum and nudge her offspring into a bed of brush, then let it talk itself to sleep.

Today was a special day, however. Instead of returning to its own home after the pair had scrambled from the outskirts of the forest to the cornfield tracing the town, the tiny monster continued on with the child. It was allowed to join the boy this night. A sleepover. Three months of begging had finally paid off when the frogmother granted permission for it to sleep among the humans tonight.

The boy and his companion hopped a fence and skipped among the stones lining the street before his house appeared before them. It was just a tiny hut only large enough for three bedrooms, and small ones at that. The straw roof hung limply over four white walls made of stone and held together with mud. Orange glowed from the sole window. A fire was lit.

He cracked open the door only a fraction at first, flashing a grin to his mother who was bending over a pot hanging in the fireplace.

“Come in, Otto,” she said to him. “And you know your friend is welcome too.” It always amazed Otto that his mother didn’t even have to look behind her to know which boy of hers it was. And though he couldn’t see her face, he knew she was smiling.

He cracked the door wider, motioning the reptile to scurry in ahead of him, then watched as it waddle-hopped through his legs and into the den. He ruffled his own chestnut hair awkwardly and plopped himself onto a wooden stool beside a small table. His friend politely curled up at his feet and stared around the room with his wide eyes. It wasn’t the first time it had been in its human’s home. It came there often to fetch the boy and convince him to come out and play.

“Keep your stupid pet out of my sight.” A voice came from the large chair beside the fireplace. A chair that Otto didn’t know was occupied as it was facing the other direction, and its resident was smaller than the back of it.

Noah, who had been leaning against the wall next to the chair and absentmindedly picking at his nails, reached out a hand and popped the person in the back of the head. “What harm is he to you, Kaine.” A statement, not a question.

It was then that Kaine stretched his head out from the block of his seat and gave an angry glare to the two at the table. His eyes were ice blue and his face was hidden behind a sea of freckles. “I don’t care. It’s ugly.” Kaine’s smile was disturbing to Otto. He never saw him smile out of gladness, only malice. It was as if his only joy was to bring other people pain. It was the exact smile he gave to them now before his head disappeared once again behind the backrest of the chair.

“Maybe it thinks the same about you,” Noah responded, not looking away from his hands this time.

“That’s enough, boys,” the patient voice of their mother softly reached their ears. She’d filled two bowls of stew already and handed them to her oldest and her middle child beside her. Then filled two more and gave one to her youngest, Otto, and placed the last on the floor beside the blue creature beneath its great seed. “I’m not sure what you eat, dear one,” she said to it, “but this is what I feed my own son.” And she turned away again to fill herself a bowl.

It was a quiet dinner that ended in Kaine storming off to his room, or rather their room, as he shared one with Otto. Noah got his own, being the eldest, as did their mother. He didn’t forget to send them another angry glance layered with hate as he strode past them and fled to his bed.

Bulbasaur had tucked its stubby ears behind its head, frightened and timid. Otto was sure it could see the thoughts that hid behind his brother’s eyes.

Noah was beside them now, crouching low to pat their guest. “It’s only envy he has of you,” he said more to the creature than to Otto. “What he can’t have, he hates.”

Kaine had always had a very large distaste for his younger brother’s friend. More so than that of the rest of the villagers. Or so it seemed. When Otto had first introduced Bulbasaur to his family, Kaine was the only of the three to not appreciate the animal for what it was. It began with general unconcern, which grew to dislike, and then finally turned to hatred.

Kaine had ventured out into the forest on his own once, only to come back with several bite marks and bruises underneath a blanket of torn clothing. His explanation was that he’d been unjustly attacked by the forest savages. Otto knew better. He assumed Kaine had actually tried to force one of the tree-dwellers to become his own companion. Tried and failed. Either that or just plain provoked the animals out of pure rage and jealousy.

Noah stood then, telling Otto to go to sleep as he assumed his lack of response was due to tiredness. His brother obeyed, and left Noah alone to stand beside the fire that was now reduced to ashes.

Kaine was already asleep when Otto entered their room, oversized frog in tow. There was only enough room for two beds in here. And only three feet to separate them. He curled up beneath a single blanket and the four-legged guest took his place beside the bed of his comrade. It was very easy for children to fall asleep.

-x-

Bulbasaur felt arms wrapped around its bloated stomach. A grip so unnecessarily tight that bruises would be left behind in the morning. Or was it morning already?

He opened his eyes to see not the quaint innards of the human boy’s sleeping room, but the dark stretches of the forest. His home. The sky was not completely black. It was morning. Early enough in the morning that the sun had only faintly begun its ascend into the horizon. The rim of the earth was pink, but the sky directly above was so deep a blue that it looked black.

The bobbing motion that his body was experiencing made him dizzy. He managed to rotate his head enough to look up into the face of the person carrying him, a feat near-impossible for one with no neck. And he saw there were freckles. And red hair. And lightning blue eyes. It was Kaine.

Fear. Where was Otto? Where was he? Probably sleeping. Did he know this evil human had taken him? This human who wished him nothing but harm? Probably not. More Fear. He struggled and screamed. A sickening sound burst from his throat.

“Shut up!” A fist sank into his right cheek, and the grasp around his middle tightened. If it was possible for blue to turn more blue, this is what happened to the side of the frogplant’s face. Blood vessels had burst beneath his thick skin. “We’re nearly there, regardless,” Kaine finished, his voice sharp and loathing.

The thick brush of the undergrowth beneath the trees parted, and the sound of running water came upon them all at once. A tiny stream of mountain water led to a wide pool that collected here. It was shallow enough for a human to wade through, but deep enough for a small creature like Bulbasaur to drown in. Its tired eyes flashed open. Drown…

Kaine didn’t wait for the animal’s realization, he was already thrusting him into the water and holding him down. The frog, who was so unlike a frog, so unlike a reptile even, flailed desperately as his head was forced again and again into the murky depths of the pond. He was just a baby then, in this time of desperation between life and death; when a life was only a life and nothing more or less.

When his feet caught the shifting earth beneath the water and his claws grasped enough soil to propel him forward, a foot lodged itself fiercely into his side. Pain. A shattered rib. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins. He was dying.

He arched himself around through the liquid and forced his teeth into the human leg that was now in the water. Blood. Lots of blood. He couldn’t see anything anymore. The hand holding his face beneath the surface let up then. Bulbasaur scrambled. He still couldn’t swim. The beautiful seed above him was filling with water and dragging him down. Somehow he managed to slide himself to the edge of pool and drag his heavy body onto the edge. Air filled his screaming lungs and he wretched.

He didn’t see the boy returning to the scene with a heavy branch. He didn’t remember the vital blow to his head and the blood spilling into a dark puddle beneath his body. He was already gone.

-x-


The sun was visibly in the east when Otto awoke. He noticed two things immediately: his brother’s bed was empty and Bulbasaur was missing. Assumption told him that his friend may already be awaiting him outside, too eager to wait in the house and too polite to wake him. He didn’t bother changing from his cloth pajamas. But, he slipped into his worn shoes and then slipped out the door.

Bulbasaur was not there. He called for him through the streets, and looked for him by the bakeries where Otto would often find him sitting just to smell the rising yeast. It didn’t take the boy long to figure out his friend was not in the village, and he was wondering why it would run off without him or even telling him at all.

His voice called out loudly as he strode through the forest now, cautiously wandering and keeping track of his progress. He was constantly getting turned around in this place, and this time he was without his guide. Dewdrops sprang from the leaves and onto his skin, leaving him soaked within minutes without a sign of rain. An hour passed.

Otto had realized something was wrong even before the pool of mountain water came into view. A song was ringing throughout the forest now. So beautiful and sad. He closed his eyes and just listened to the voice that was rising and falling in harmony with massive vocal chords and turns of the wind. It was a whale trapped at the bottom of an ocean crying out to a loved one. It was a siren calling sailors ashore. It was an angel singing a soul into the afterlife. It was the single worst and greatest thing that Otto had ever heard. Depression, loss, and agony filled the notes as they hit his ears. And then he saw her.

A towering presence lay beside a pond. The very make of Bulbasaur had he been five hundred pounds heavier and six feet taller. Her great seed was a seed no longer, but a flower, something Otto had always assumed happened as the creatures aged. An enormous face, distorted with grief, was nuzzling what appeared to be…

“Bulby?” Otto screeched, softly, just barely, when he saw the tiny frog-turtle. Limp, lifeless. The seed on its back, a fraction the size of its mother’s, was brown now. A colorless brown. A brown so unsaturated it was only a shadow of what used to be there in its place. The body, for it was no longer Bulbasaur, lie in the soil between the stocky fore-arms of its mother. Arms that moved now as they stood from the ground at the faint squeak of Otto’s voice.

Fist-sized tears fell from her eyes. They were empty. Otto had always loved her eyes; saucers of colors and pride. When those eyes looked upon him now, there was nothing left to awe at. Nothing left at all. They went from grief to blame and he knew what she thought. It was his fault.

The tears stopped then. A blind rage engulfed her and two impossibly long vines erupted from beneath the soft flower upon her back. They sprang to the boy and slapped across his chest with enough force to propel him into the nearest tree trunk. Then the vines, like ropes, twisted around his chest and lifted him from the earth.

She looked through him now, nostrils flaring. A gaze that saw nothing. Her eyes were directed to his face, but it wasn’t her that was watching. Otto knew this, as he hung helplessly in her grasp, his feet dangling into open air. The massive lungs in her chest rasped for air in her fury. She roared.

He may have been afraid in that moment. And if he was, he couldn’t tell. All he could tell was that his best friend lie dead on the floor of the forest behind her. Dead. And his only thought before she snapped his neck was, This is all my fault… I’m so sorry… I‘m so sorry, Bulbasaur. He sobbed silently for only a moments. Then stopping abruptly, his corpse, too, fell to the ground.

The mammoth reptile left the bodies behind her as she barreled through the forest away from them. The smaller trees shattered in her wake as she stampeded her way towards the village.

-x-

Last edited by EmBreon; 12-09-2010 at 05:57 AM.
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  #17  
Old 06-27-2010, 10:53 PM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

It sounded and seemed like an earthquake that day. The earth grumbled in protest beneath the feet of the elephant-sized alien creature as it stomped through fences and streets. She had gone mad. All that rested in her memories and her goals was destruction. And destroy she did.

Houses rammed to the ground, fire set ablaze, children trampled in the streets. Only when a brave villager managed to force his spear into her chest did her revenge end. Her eyes widened, and she fell thunderously to her side.

The people crowded around her huge carcass. Most had never seen an alien being from the jungle this size before, let alone any new creature at all. The child’s famous, or infamous, friend had been the only one brave enough to venture into their city. At least, some thought it bravery. The rest thought it naivety.

The body commanded all attention now, however. From the thick, leathery indigo hide, to the immense plant blanketing the entire top of her body. The emerald leaves, now shimmering in the sunlight, began to fade. The plant was dying before their eyes. What would normally have taken days, took seconds, and a shadeless brown spread like a plague from the center of the tropical flower to the tip of the leaves beneath it. The plant could only survive on a living host.

The initial shock of the alien faded. People were shouting now. Threatened, scared, and enraged at the intruder now lying dead before them.

“See?!” shouted the man whose spear had brought the mammoth plant-being to her death. “These creatures do not wish peace with us! Alone, this vile savage has destroyed half of our village!”

There were nods; the people were agreeing. Others were scurrying behind them to put out the fires licking the air and swallowing their homes. Women were crying. Many people were gravely injured.

“He’s right,” another man agreed, much older than the others. “This one sought nothing but our doom. And it was only one. Imagine what a dozen of these would do to our homes and our families.”

“We must strike back!” the first man shouted again. He raised his spear, dripping with the alien’s blood, into the sky. “We cannot sit by while they attack our city at will! We will fight! We’ll defend!”

There was much shouting now. Fists were punching the air, and the crowd grew thicker. An army was being formed, and the man with his spear was their leader.

In the days to come, a great chaos spread throughout the valley. Humans were massing into the forest, bringing any weapon they had and killing any life form they found. When a group of them stumbled across the bodies of Otto and his Bulbasaur, it only fueled their newfound hatred for the aliens and inspired more and more villagers to join their cause.

When word of the boy’s death reached his family, his mother locked herself away in her room and Kaine became unusually quiet. He said nothing for days until Noah caught him crying silently in front of the fire place.

“It’s all my fault, brother,” Kaine cried to the solemn figure that’d just entered the room behind him. “Otto… this army… It’s all my fault.” His hands flew to his face to hide the oncoming pour of tears.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Noah responded, comfortingly. “It appears we put far too much trust in the forest creatures. No one could have foreseen this.”

“No,” Kaine whispered now. “No, I… I killed that monster! I killed Otto’s friend, it was me!” He sobbed into his hands.

Noah’s eyes narrowed now. His eyebrows furrowed in anger, shock, and grief. “Why?” He barely managed to say after a long moment’s pause.

“Because… because… it wasn’t fair…” the pathetic excuse escaped his lips. Kaine tried to find better words. He tried to untangle this mess he had made in the hopes that he would be able to convey his sane and obvious reasoning. But he couldn’t. While he did not regret ending the innocent life of the child-monster, he was stricken by the result: his brother’s death. Sorrow was only a drop of how he now felt.

“You…murdered that creature out of envy?” Noah breathed, unable to believe his own words. “You’ve single-handedly destroyed this family for greed?” He could only stare in bewilderment. A wave of emotions crashed down on him and soon he could not bear the sight of the boy a moment longer.

When Kaine did not answer, but only continue to wallow in his own self-pity, Noah left his brother. He left his home and he left the village to venture into the rainforest beyond. He was unaware that he would never return.

The army had hundreds in their flanks now. The creatures were slaughtered. The few that had the chance to fight back barely managed to leave a scratch in the massive numbers. There were few casualties. The humans were winning their invented war. A war with no opponent, only prey.

A pack of wolf-like aliens had managed to fend off a group of ten soldiers, their orange fur flashing like fires between the trees. Teeth ripped into throats and legs and claws slashed into chests. But the small victory was short-lived; a string of archers came to the assist and dislodged arrows into every black-striped hide.

There was little left on the edges of the forest now. The humans had cleared it entirely for well over a mile in. The creatures who’d survived fled into the deepest and darkest parts of the jungle. A place where they banded together and waited. Time was not on their side.

Back in the village, alien furs and skins were being stretched and hung up on houses or fashioned into clothing. People rejoiced in the victories and the large supplies of fresh meat. They saw themselves as safe, having pushed back their imagined threat. They had no idea what was truly happening behind the bark enclosure of the forest.

Noah walked, and kept walking. At first it was just indecision and purposelessness that sent him venturing obliviously into the mass of trees. He didn’t remember the first leg of the journey at all, most of it passed in a daze. He remembered seeing his youngest brother, hanging limply over the shoulder of a broad man as he carried the boy gravely to his family. A picture of his mother dropping to her knees in horror weaved its way into his memory. Her shaking hands reached to touch the body, hoping it wasn’t real, and liquid raced down her cheeks. He then remembered watching the men band together with pride and vengeance and return from the forest with baby alien corpses in their grasp and larger alien bodies dragging behind their carts. And most of all, he remembered not caring.

Now, as he traveled blindly between the brush and tree trunks, he felt aware again. He had something left he could save. Otto would have defended these creatures with his life. Something that had been taken from him, rather than given. Noah would do all that he could for them then, he’d decided. He would do this for his brother. And so, instead of turning around at the sign of sunset and heading back to civilization, he walked deeper into the darkness of the trees.

At first, as he passed the invisible barrier, nothing changed. He felt the faintest increase of air pressure, then it popped away again like a bubble. To him, it was just an odd passing breeze. But what he didn’t realize, was that he’d just stepped through the forcefield that was shielding this part of the forest from the outside world, and all who walked among it.

The alien creatures nearby heard the rift. They approached him cautiously, watching him pass without ever leaving the safety of the shadows. Some would hop into his trail and follow his path from a safe distance.

Noah felt all of the eyes watching him. He sensed their presence somehow, from the tiny mice-aliens to the large panther-like creatures gazing down upon him from the cliffs beside him. But he could also sense that none of them meant him any harm; the same feeling he reciprocated to each and every one of them.

There was one presence in particular that drove him forward. It was what was giving him his directions. Imagine a planet with hundreds of tiny moons. This presence was the gravitational force pulling him towards itself like the planet, and the creatures were the moons. It was a network. And somehow he knew exactly why he was headed there, and why the presence was calling out to him. They needed each other’s help.

Finally the trees parted and Noah found himself in a small clearing. Clear, except for one very large tree growing in the exact center of it. Some kind of mystical aura emanated from the tree. The grass around it was greener and more overgrown, the air around it was cleaner and fresher, but the tree itself… was dying.

The young man paused for a few moments, confused, but then he proceeded all the way up to the roots of tree and faced its wide trunk.

“You…” he whispered.

Silence.

The wind picked up slightly then. It wound itself through the clearing and out into the surrounding forest. It passed through the leaves and the grass, it ruffled fur coats of the creatures, and then it made its way up into the sky, as if trying to harness the sun. Finally, after a symphony of wind-made noises, the breeze traveled back into the clearing and passed directly into the center of the trunk.

Some breath of life washed over the bark now. The decaying wood flickered with a flash of health. The browning leaves regained some color. But the true miracle was the face that was forming in the bark.

It started with a pair of eyes that blinked into the surface of the tree. Black-rimmed, with deep blue irises. Then, the bark rippled somehow, then faded away. Either that, or became completely transparent. There was now a big hole in the place where the eyes were. They were attached to a body. A nymph was floating in the very hollow of the tree.

A normal person might have come to the conclusion that they were hallucinating. But being exposed to the strange creatures in the valley for so long, Noah gathered that this one in particular was no different. He watched the odd little nymph as it floated in its lime-toned body. Noah opened his mouth to speak again, but then hesitated.

I know you come here to help us. The sentence came rushing into his mind.

It was not his thought, but he knew whose it was. This was something that scared him, finally. He was used to strange sights and sounds and behaviors. But none of them talked, let alone spoke through his own mind.

Yes, I am unlike the others. The voice said again. Even though there was no sound, only a thought, he could feel the power and authority pulsing into his brain. I have allowed you to pass my barrier because I know your motives are pure, Noah.

“H-how? Why…” Noah stumbled over his words, forgetting what he had to say.

There is much to tell you, and little time to tell it, the wood-creature continued to push his thoughts into the man. We’ve come here from another world, not for the first time. We were here long before these lands had a name. We struck a deal with the earliest of your kind, a deal which was broken. We were forced to return to our home and recuperate. And now we have returned here again in search of one of you. One who will help us to save our own world. One who will uphold your end of the deal.

It was time I did not foresee. The time it would take to find them. A soul only remains pure through childhood. An age too young to survive our task. So we have been waiting, and I presume we will be waiting much longer. It is this to which I require your help, Noah. It took much of my strength to bring us here, and my strength is fading. Soon there will be nothing left to take us home. I need to preserve myself, yet I need to keep searching. I need your help to search.


It was an information overload, only half of it making sense. Noah was still speechless. He wasn’t sure how to respond, and if he could, what would he say? Sure thing, I’ll save your world for you?

It is selfish of me to put such a burden on one human being, the nymph spoke again, reading his thoughts. I would not dare make a request such as this under any other circumstance. I regret to tell you that it is not only my home that risks destruction, but yours as well.

“What kind of destruction?” he managed to ask. “What..-”

Time can show you that answer.

Frustrated by the vagueness and the indisputable feeling that everything this creature was telling him was true, Noah asked, “What would I have to do?”

I need you to be a host. I will pass onto you a part of me, and you must pass that onto your children. I need you to leave this valley. I need you to go into the world and be my eyes. I will send some of my companions with you, they will be your guides. You’ll know what you’re looking for.

“But my…my family.”

They are safe here. You will be missed, but your sacrifice will save your species. I need you to go now, young friend. My temporary energy source is fading.

As the creature said this, color began draining once again from the tree.

“The people out there. They want war. They will come after you and kill you all…” Noah said, half with worry and half with shame.

They won’t make it past the barrier unless I allow them passage. They will walk into it and emerge on the other side. They will think they have eliminated all of us. They have already gotten to all who could not return to this shelter in time. A sense of sorrow was webbed into this thought as it entered Noah’s mind. He felt what the loss of those creatures meant to the nymph.

“Okay,” Noah decided, unsure how he could feel so positive he was born for this duty. “Okay, I will be your vessel.” Noah’s face turned stern. Purpose wove through his body and he felt pride and courage to follow through this task.

The nymph reached out of the trunk now. When its tiny hand emerged from the hollow of the trunk and was hit by sunlight, the lively skin turned pale. The hand faded and death seemed to creep up each of its fingers.

Don’t be alarmed, young one, its thought said. This tree preserves my life form. It is a cocoon I created to preserve me for eons. All of my life has been put inside of it, but it can easily be taken out. Bring your forehead closer.

And as Noah leaned in, the alien placed its hand upon his brow. At first, only a spark, and then an explosion of light passed from the hand and into the man. Energy stormed through his veins, a presence made its way through cells and then neurons, and then a small pop; the sound of a balloon bursting underwater. The light faded.

You must go now. They will show you the way. The nymph nodded behind the man.

Noah turned, slightly dizzy, and saw a horde of alien creatures behind him of all shapes and sizes. Some cat-shaped with lavender pelts, some the size of rhinoceros made of rock. It was a most unusual group, especially for the eyes of a world outside of the valley.

They will not see their true form, the nymph answered his thought again. The people beyond the valley walls. They will see only the animals native to their area.

The creatures stirred, and began leading a path behind the tree. The earth below vibrated in the movement.

Follow them, they will show you the way.

Noah looked at the tree once again in time to see the bark reappearing in the hole where the nymph hovered. The tree had completely faded to the shade of its former, deathly self, and the nymph was shrouded once again in its embrace.

“You never even told me your name…” Noah whispered sadly to the lonely tree.

I have many names, the thought came only faintly to him as he’d turned to follow the pack of creatures into the other side of the forest and out of the valley. My first was Celebi. Some call me Forest Spirit. But most, call me the Timekeeper.


Last edited by EmBreon; 12-09-2010 at 06:08 AM.
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  #18  
Old 06-28-2010, 12:15 AM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

jasklfjposdijfklasdfj;lkasjdfk;jadfs. That was such a good/sad chapter. ;_; Very well written and sweet and sad and depressing yet hopeful and just vauge enough to MAKE ME WANT MORE. And the Kaine kid made me want to kill somthing.

I like the way the Pokemon were described, and the setting. I wanted to cry when Bulbasaur was killed, and when his Mother freaked out and killed Otto. But the mother's emotions were very believable. That is how any mother would react if they found their child killed, regardless of species.

Nice chapter soundtrack, too. I love that song, it was my 'baby song' if you could call it that. o.o My mom used to play/hum it for me when I was younger. And it fits the somber mood of the chapter.

I really like this fanfic. Thank you for writing it, Emma *tacklehug*
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Old 06-28-2010, 05:24 AM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

Quote:
Originally Posted by Alana Marie View Post
jasklfjposdijfklasdfj;lkasjdfk;jadfs. That was such a good/sad chapter. ;_; Very well written and sweet and sad and depressing yet hopeful and just vauge enough to MAKE ME WANT MORE. And the Kaine kid made me want to kill somthing.

I like the way the Pokemon were described, and the setting. I wanted to cry when Bulbasaur was killed, and when his Mother freaked out and killed Otto. But the mother's emotions were very believable. That is how any mother would react if they found their child killed, regardless of species.

Nice chapter soundtrack, too. I love that song, it was my 'baby song' if you could call it that. o.o My mom used to play/hum it for me when I was younger. And it fits the somber mood of the chapter.

I really like this fanfic. Thank you for writing it, Emma *tacklehug*
Gaha, spoilers! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. :3 Makes it that much more worthwhile.

Thank you so much for reading and giving me some feedback, Alana. <3

And sadly, this story will probably not get many updates in the coming weeks. I'll be distracted with our ROBO-WAR-ANNIHILATION.

I've got about ten more chapters written though, so the tale will go on soon. 8]
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Old 07-04-2010, 01:28 AM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

Quote:
Originally Posted by Alana Marie View Post
I wanted to cry when Bulbasaur was killed
I actually did. ;_; One or two tears. Which says something.

Wow, Emma. This is great.

Just as easy as Sophie snaps back from her visions is just as easy as what happens to me while reading this. Reading this reminds me of a dream or a good movie (in essence it IS sorta like a movie), where you get lost easily and when the dream or movie, or even a good book, is over, you realize it's reality.

This happens rarely for me. Awesome job, Em. I definitely want to see more.

5 stars. *Rated*
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Old 07-09-2010, 09:49 PM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

Yes, I caught up. :D

Wow, so much to absorb. Sophie has a lot to take in, too. I really did not expect Finn to be a Bender. I guess it was because he seems so... normal and dull? xD Nonetheless, nice twist, and Maverick is a very interesting character.

Dude, the Otto and Bulbasaur... that was just sad. D; But I never expected that the Pokemon aspect of this story was going to come like this. It seems surreal and most of all exciting. It seems as though I could walk outside and meet a Pokemon.

Despite it being such a shock, the moment I read "South America" I knew there was going to be Pokemon since I remembered the FR Dex entry, "Mew: A Pokemon of South America..." I don't know if that relates to the story, but I thought it was neat that it tied back to the games.

Now, onward to typo correction!

Chapter Three

Quote:
it was more entertainment to imagine a world where these things might have been true than any amount of hours in front of a television.
“Entertaining”

Quote:
It may have even been [i]these[/] creatures that scientists discovered centuries later and labeled reptiles.
Italic brackets need to be fixed.

Chapter 4

Quote:
Suck it up, princess.
I laughed out loud when I read this. My band director always says this (students even made him a T-shirt with this saying. XD)

Quote:
“Matrix references… really?” she grinned at him anyway, despite his lame attempt at a joke.
Since “she grinned” is not a dialogue tag, it should be “She grinned.”

Quote:
But…here we have our options, you your choice
I don know what happened here. O-o

Quote:
She disappeared behind the counter and the hooded man ran to register.
Comma before “and,” and you need “the” after “to.”

Quote:
[I] Should I tell him what happened at the grocery store?[/]
More tags that need to be fixed.

And that's it, I'm pretty sure. Keep up the awesome work, Emma! :D

- Kat
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Old 07-19-2010, 03:20 AM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

*finally gets around to reading this*

This is really original O_o The whole concept of tying that kind of thing with Pokemon is really awesome.

And yeah, it was really sad when Bulbasaur died D: I was kinda expecting it though.

Oh, and the art's great too <3 I wish I had the skill/time to draw something for every chapter.
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Old 07-19-2010, 05:17 AM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

Hooray! Comments! XD

Quote:
Originally Posted by Sixto View Post
I actually did. ;_; One or two tears. Which says something.

Wow, Emma. This is great.

Just as easy as Sophie snaps back from her visions is just as easy as what happens to me while reading this. Reading this reminds me of a dream or a good movie (in essence it IS sorta like a movie), where you get lost easily and when the dream or movie, or even a good book, is over, you realize it's reality.

This happens rarely for me. Awesome job, Em. I definitely want to see more.

5 stars. *Rated*
Oh wow, thanks. What a compliment. I also feel undeserving of 5 stars, but that means a lot. Thank you. More will come soon!

Quote:
Originally Posted by Phantom Kat View Post
Yes, I caught up. :D

Wow, so much to absorb. Sophie has a lot to take in, too. I really did not expect Finn to be a Bender. I guess it was because he seems so... normal and dull? xD Nonetheless, nice twist, and Maverick is a very interesting character.

Dude, the Otto and Bulbasaur... that was just sad. D; But I never expected that the Pokemon aspect of this story was going to come like this. It seems surreal and most of all exciting. It seems as though I could walk outside and meet a Pokemon.

Despite it being such a shock, the moment I read "South America" I knew there was going to be Pokemon since I remembered the FR Dex entry, "Mew: A Pokemon of South America..." I don't know if that relates to the story, but I thought it was neat that it tied back to the games.

Now, onward to typo correction!

Chapter Three



“Entertaining”



Italic brackets need to be fixed.

Chapter 4



I laughed out loud when I read this. My band director always says this (students even made him a T-shirt with this saying. XD)



Since “she grinned” is not a dialogue tag, it should be “She grinned.”



I don know what happened here. O-o



Comma before “and,” and you need “the” after “to.”



More tags that need to be fixed.

And that's it, I'm pretty sure. Keep up the awesome work, Emma! :D

- Kat
Ah, thanks for those. I'll fix them as soon as I get to posting my chapters up again. It seems no matter how many times I reread things, I always miss a bunch of typos. XD

And haha, you're the first to mention Maverick. He's a loopy one; he'll have more spotlight later.

Glad you like it so far, Kat. Thanks so much for reading and the feedback. :3

Quote:
Originally Posted by Lusankya View Post
*finally gets around to reading this*

This is really original O_o The whole concept of tying that kind of thing with Pokemon is really awesome.

And yeah, it was really sad when Bulbasaur died D: I was kinda expecting it though.

Oh, and the art's great too <3 I wish I had the skill/time to draw something for every chapter.
Awwwww, thank you Lus. <3 This gladdens me. And the art... I drew those a while ago when I first got my tablet. I hope I'll still be able to get something done for the later chapters too. I'm afraid I won't be as excited to. XD I'm happy you like them though! I'll try my best to keep it up. D:


Thanks for reading you guys. ^^
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Old 12-08-2010, 07:26 PM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

Here we go, six months later and I'm going to get to posting more chapters again. Haha. My free time came to a depressing halt for a few months, but I'd like to get this going again and finish it. :D Hope I still have some readers out there!





“And so,” Maverick finished. “Noah ventured into our world to become the very first Time Bender. He married, had children, and their children had children, and the gene was passed on through the decades.”

Sophie let the silence surround her for a few moments. She loved listening to stories, and Maverick had such a way of telling them, everything felt so real. Real enough to scare her.

“Are you saying this is a true story?” she asked.

“Every word.”

She gave him a look of uneasiness. “So those monster things…”

“Not monsters, guardians.” Maverick seemed slightly appalled by the mix-up. Like it was a great insult to his deity.

“Well, how do you know? I mean, if they are supposed to look like normal animals…”

Maverick gave her a new look that suggested the answer should have been obvious. “They are camouflaged to those who don’t know of their existence. To those who do, well, they will look just as they are.”

He gestured then for her to follow, and he stood and led her to the front room. Here the odd trinkets hung from walls, and the intoxicating fumes swarmed the showroom. He walked to the table where his purple orb machine rested as it had the night she’d first come here. Except it wasn’t a funny-looking toy anymore. It was… alive.

A crazed face appeared in the smoke. She wasn’t sure, but it looked like it was trying to smile at her. A devious, menacing smile. Smoke billowed around its body, which was just a head. A giant purple smoking head on a podium.

“Holy!” she screeched in shock at the sudden appearance of the face. The surprise made her jump backwards, and she tripped over her own foot and fell to the ground.

“Now now, my dear. Don’t scare him.” Maverick picked up the thing and cradled it in his arms like an infant.

“What-is-that-thing” she huffed one word at a time as she pulled herself from the floor, wincing.

“Well,” Maverick answered, “he is a spirit who put himself into some kind of tomb, so I call him Spiritomb.”

“Genius.” Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off the creature long enough to catch Maverick’s glare as he placed it back on the table.

“There there.” He stroked the smoke lovingly.

“I saw some twisted show trick before, I thought I was supposed to see an animal as the camouflage.” Sophie looked to Maverick questioningly.

“Over time, humans have become more civilized. There are less places for animals to live. And the guardians, they stay by our sides; all of us descendants of Noah. But you wouldn’t think it was normal to watch a bear trudging down Main Street, or a zebra in a restaurant. They had to evolve to match our times. Some put their spirits in appliances even.”

“Oh…” she breathed, unsure how to respond, then felt stupid for sounding like a moron. “Don’t they…die?”

“They can, if injured badly enough.” A moment of sadness found itself in Maverick’s eyes, but it left quickly enough for Sophie to forget that it was ever there. “But, they don’t age. They are immortal to time.”

She leaned against the wall, pondering this. She still didn’t feel comfortable enough to sit at the table with the odd glow-ball. Maverick was becoming oblivious to her presence when he placed himself upon a seat and made goo-goo eyes at the smoking orb.

“Wait,” she said finally after an odd moment had passed. “None of this explains my initial question. Why are people calling me Stag?”

“Oh yes!” Maverick exclaimed with newfound excitement. “The gene. The presence passed down from Noah that lives in our blood. It skips a generation. Always. None of us are sure why. Perhaps it is the Timekeeper’s way of preventing an abundance of people with time powers. But nevertheless, a generation is always skipped. That generation is stagnant. We tend to call those in it, Stags.”

“But then…”

“Yes. Your generation should not have any manipulation of time. Your father was a Bender, and his grandfather was not, and his father was a Bender, and so forth. You should have been skipped, and your children should have had the active gene.”

“So what does that mean?” Sophie asked, wondering if it was something bad or if she should be sorry.

“I don’t know, child. It means the presence decided to activate in you regardless. It means you’re very important to Him somehow. And it also means we must keep you a secret from them scoundrel Shifters. If they found out…”

“Shifters?” The name sounded familiar to her.

“Ah yes, you’ve yet to hear their story as well? Well, not all of us are good. It is common knowledge that the world is full of many different kinds of people. Some of us can’t handle what we are given.

Over the years, as the bloodline spanned out and the pull of His presence became fainter, the small control over time overwhelmed many people. They saw strength and power through it, and they lost sight of the initial task. They use it for their own evil purposes, which even we do not know the full details of. They hide from us just as we hide from them. All we know is they branched off, away from us, to seek their own ends… while we seek ours.”

He was twisting his finger through the violet smoke. Sophie was about to say something, but he continued.

“A soul is a delicate thing. It hangs in a very impressionable balance, and those that fall to that side, well, then that is what you become.”

Maverick was a strange, strange man, Sophie thought. One moment he was crazed goon, the other he seemed suspiciously wise. It was this thought that lead her to another, off-topic one.

“Why aren’t you rambling?” She’d said it more bluntly than she intended. And a more appropriate question would probably have been “Why do you ramble?” but she became so accustomed to his random phrases between regular speech that it was odd to hear him speak uninterrupted.

He grinned politely, slightly amused, and pointed to the swirling purple cloud. “Spiritomb calms my mind when he is near. Sometimes my thoughts are too wild to tame, but often, he succeeds. He can block out what I do not wish to see at times, but eventually, he tires. But it is possible.”

“You can see the future like me?” she guessed.

“I can see the future… But no, not like you. My visions come in pictures. Moments in time, months, and often years in advance. It is an ability far more useless than yours. I cannot harness it easily, as you’ve seen.”

“So you pose as a fortune teller, but can actually tell fortunes.” She laughed a bit at the irony.

He smiled proudly and said, “Something like that, yes.”

Maverick told Sophie more details of her past, a past she never knew existed, and she listened politely as he droned for hours with the occasional mutterings that his Spiritomb failed to prevent. He told her more of the Shifters and their desire for self-preservation, and he told her of the Benders and their desire for peace. But most importantly, he told her of the fate of the world. How the humans were destroying it. How the guardians felt it dying beneath their feet. How there was something… else out there that was behind all of it. And he told her that was their ultimate goal; to find this savior of a Timekeeper and somehow save their world.

“And, my dear,” he finished with a long yawn. “You’re one of us now. I’m sorry if your uncle led you to believe you have a choice in the matter, but you do not. If you leave, they will eventually find out what you are, and kill you. Or worse…” His right eye twitched like he was trying to stare right down into her doubt. “Tomorrow you will meet the rest of us.” He left the table then and trotted up the stairs to his bunker.

Kill me, or worse. Very comforting, gramps.

Nothing seemed to surprise or worry her at this point. A meteor could fall from the sky and crash into her face, giving her telekinesis and super strength, and she wouldn’t find it absolutely preposterous like she would have three days ago. It was some kind of dream-like state she was living in. At first, she was just going along with most of the crazy to humor them, but… She knew it was real now; some powerful feeling was telling her this. But she also felt like the logical part of her brain was malfunctioning and being closed off from the rest.

Finding out she had no choice after all didn’t change her feelings in the slightest, though. She already knew she would stay, she’d decided that five seconds after Finn had asked her the question. She was mainly just delaying and pretending to consider it to please her uncle, who truly didn’t understand what her life had been like growing up.

She loved her grandparents and she knew they loved her, but she never truly felt like she belonged there. She felt like she was intruding on their perfect little life in their perfect little world, and she was meant to be somewhere else far away from the endless sea of corn and crop. Somewhere just like this place.

She fell asleep on her pull-out couch easily. Finn did not return.


The following morning, she found herself being forced yet again into the hideous contraption people called a Taxi. This one looked like someone had been transporting a cougar to the asylum and let it claw its jollies into the upholstery. A giant man was plopped in the driver’s seat, puffing on a cigar. A cigar that was smaller than every one of his sausage-like fingers.

“Take us to the end of Thirteenth,” Maverick told him, waving a wad of dollars in his face.

“There’s nothing down there but dumpsters,” a voice escaped from the far depths of the driver‘s throat.

“So?”

“Hmph,” the man grunted and dropped his fat foot on the gas pedal.


When they arrived, several large piles of trash and rotting rat corpses were waiting to greet them. If a septic tank exploded inside a men’s locker room, it would still smell better than this.

Sophie winced and pinched her nose and slammed her eyes shut, following her leader only by the sound of his footsteps.

Why would a group of … special people, have their base here?” Sophie gagged.

“Who would come here looking for us?”

“Good point,” she choked.

Maverick laughed. Perhaps because of the hilarity of the sound of her distorted nose-plugged voice, or maybe because he was amused she hadn’t thought of it on her own. But regardless, Sophie didn’t care, she just wanted to be out of range of this putrid smell and she wanted to be out now.

The sound of metal scraping metal convinced her to peek through the slit of an eye to see Maverick pushing back a door in the floor of the alley, a door she was sure hadn’t been there before. She didn’t dare think about what trash Maverick must have touched to uncover it.

“Coming?” he asked her, as his head disappeared beneath the entranceway.

Sophie swept to the open passageway, and bounded down the stairs after him.

There was a hallway, long and dark. Very original. The air smelled like musty and molded laundry. The girl followed Maverick all the way to the end of it and then into the last and only door on the left. A strong light source flooded her vision as the old man pushed open the door, causing her pupils to painfully dilate.

What she saw when she’d finished rubbing her eyelids and her vision cleared was nothing short of extraordinary.

Last edited by EmBreon; 12-13-2010 at 05:07 AM.
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Old 12-08-2010, 07:26 PM
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It was an arena. Albeit, a quite small one, only the size of maybe two or three classrooms, but it was an arena. Underneath an alley… filled with dumpsters…

Long rows of stadium lights hung somewhere high above the pure white, stone walls, making the whole area painfully bright. The effect was amplified by its reflection off the polished wood flooring, which was of the same style and making of a basketball court.

“Why woul-” she started to ask, but stopped when she saw what was going on in it.

There were two men standing on either side of the room, and in front of them were the strangest creatures she’d ever seen. Well, the strangest she’d seen before her reality did a front flip into the lake of lunacy.

The first one was some combination of a sheep and a bumblebee. It’s body was striped and rubbery with some sort of stinger for a tail, while its middle was fluffy and wooly like the typical barnyard sort. While she was staring at it, some kind of light bulb on the end of its tail started glowing and then sparks began spitting from its sides, until finally, a great burst of lightning went rocketing to the other side of the arena.

“Stop! What are you doing?!” Sophie screamed at the man telling the bumblesheep what to do. She watched in horror as the lightning struck the poor creature on the other side clear in the face. She couldn’t see its figure quite clearly, but it was bulky and blue.

“It’s ok, they are just practicing.” Maverick reassured her. “Besides, Marshtomp is immune to electricity.”

“Marshwha?” she rubbed her forehead.

Maverick only laughed and urged her to follow as he walked through the arena and out the other side, with the strange sounds of supernatural abilities echoing behind them. She could only follow reluctantly and sneak a few more glances at the scene before the door shut after her.

The next room she went in was much less stressful and somewhat familiar. It resembled a small workshop, but what they were working on was hard to tell. Steel cabinets lined the cream colored walls, encircling classroom styled rows of desks. Each housing a single lamplight. Most of them were unoccupied, but the few heads that were buried behind projects or books looked up at the pair when they entered. And stared.

A girl only a couple years older than Sophie‘s age stood up from somewhere in the middle of the room and walked over, wide-eyed. Her jet black hair was gelled up the center into a radical mohawk. She wore ripped jeans, and the closer she got, the clearer the logo read on her black T-shirt: Behind every great man, is a woman. Rolling her eyes.

“Is this the…?” the stranger asked.

Maverick only nodded.

“Nice to meet you!” she almost squealed, busting her hand out to shake Sophie’s. “I heard so much about you! I was waiting for them to finally bring you down here but-”

“Calm down, Brinny.” Maverick grinned, patting the girl in the shoulder and ushering her away. “There’s plenty of time for that, I have some things to show her first.”

“My name’s Brinny by the way! Can’t wait to show you how to make capsules, and then we’re going to be practicing with your new guardian, after that we’ve got some studying; you’ve missed quite a bit. Starting off so late too… we’ve got a lot of work to do! OKAY MAVERICK, I’M GOING.” The old man was shooing her from the room through some doorway in the back.

“Heh.” Maverick rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Sophie grabbed her earlobe just as awkwardly. Everyone was still staring at her.

“Now now, back to work. Nothing to see here.” Maverick let a few mutterings slip under his breath as he ushered Sophie from this room as well.

They walked between two rows of desks with outdated computers and through the side door. In this next room, was something Sophie finally didn’t recognize at all. Or rather, somethings.

It was laid out like a library, the room. The walls rose high above their heads, dozens of feet in the air. It made little sense that the ceilings hung at varying heights through each room they passed, but Sophie assumed that normal architectural protocols weren't followed when creating a secret base below the streets of a city.

There were row after row of shelves. All old and worn, but still kept clean. A faint but familiar sent of Pine-sol wafted around her nostrils. And like a library, the shelves were arranged one after the other, but, instead of books spread out upon them, there were balls. Hundreds of them in varying shades of primary colors, spread intricately across each plank. Six balls a shelf, four shelves a case, three cases a row, six rows a side. Two sides. Sophie tried to do the math in her head.

“There’s almost a thousand of them,” she said mostly to herself.

“Eight hundred and sixty-four,” Maverick replied.

“What… are they?” she asked, looking around. She picked up one from a shelf near her and turned it around in her hand. It felt hollow.

“Balls.” Maverick said.

Sophie shot him a stare that said “And?”

“And most of these are empty,” he continued, gesturing around to all the shelves and even the one in her hand. “But this one…” he reached into his pocket and pulled out another ball only a fraction of the size of the ones around them. But at his touch, it enlarged, and at his command, it opened. A beam of transparent red light burst from the innards of the ball and fell to the floor between them.

“is occupied,” he finished. And in a moment, his Spiritomb materialized at the end of the light’s path.

“How in the..?” Sophie let slip after a gasp and a look of surprise left her face. But she didn’t bother finishing. This wasn’t the most unusual thing for her to see this week. She’d just add it to her list of crazy and move on.

But Maverick answered anyway. “Alien technology,” he said, as if this was a normal scientific explanation. “We use these to transport them without drawing attention. It’s a way to stay together at all times, safely. Nelson is the head crafter; he’s been experimenting with the mechanics and thinks he’s invented a type that will contain even the sleeping guardians. HEY!” Maverick flicked Sophie in the ear.

She was poking at the little button on the ball in her hand, entranced. “Ow!” she whined, and rubbed the stinging cartilage.

“Pay attention, this is important,” he said sternly. “Put that down and come with me.” As if rewinding time, Maverick sucked his companion back into the hand-sized sphere the same way he had released it, and returned the device to his pocket. The nonchalant way these people acted around all of the weird was going to take Sophie some getting used to. She could attempt to refrain herself from constantly staring wide-eyed at the phenomena this new world contained, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to ever pretend it was normal. Ever.

Her mind continued to wander as they walked through yet another room, and Sophie started becoming turned around. If they were to get separated, she felt she would be lost down in this crazy maze forever.

“Guardians are not pets. They won’t roll over at your whim, they won’t depend on you for their livelihood,” Maverick spoke as they walked. “They are very much like people. Consider them soldiers who will fight by your side. That is… if you can prove yourself a worthy general.” He looked down at the girl through the corner of his eye. She looked confused. As usual. “Their loyalty is earned, not given. And the best way to earn it, is to prove your strength and wit. By defeating them. In battle.” Maverick watched the expression on Sophie’s face change from confusion to downright horror.

“Whaaaat?” she breathed. “What on earth is the point in that?”

Maverick chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s not a fight to the death, young one.” He smiled as they found the end of a hallway and turned into another one. “More of a boxing match. The first to get knocked out, loses. It’s a custom from their world.”

“I see…” Sophie said. Even though she didn’t see. At all.

They found themselves finally in a completely normal room. The kitchen. Here was placed an ordinary oak table and chairs, a stove and microwave, a hideous orange refrigerator and a stainless steel sink.

“Someone very special lives here,” Maverick said with a gleam in his eye.

Sophie recoiled, looking desperately around for anything that resembled a mouse or rat.

Maverick ignored her. “Someone very special to your father.”

At this, the girl stopped, surprised. She looked around the room, wondering what friend of her father’s could possibly reside in the kitchen. Sophie was starting to get rather annoyed at all of the references people were making to her dead parents. As if she were supposed to know the memories of people she never met. People she only dreamt about her entire life. People she would never remember. But Sophie had long let go of self-pity; life was unforgiving. She'd learned to go with the flow and stop living for yesterday. Her easy-going personality shielded her from the common disappointments of the world, and in the end, left her with an open mind. There was no reason to fight when you had nothing to fight for, best to just go along with it. Which was why she was standing here today, awkwardly scanning a room at the command of an old goon.

“Go wake him up.” Maverick nodded his head ominously toward the puke-orange colored fridge.

Ah, she thought. Secret doorway to the underground labyrinth and the magical hidden troll.

Sophie tiptoed sarcastically to the side of the fridge, going along with the whims of her crazy old tour guide and gripped onto the back corner of it. She heaved the thing with all her might away from the wall, but it wouldn’t budge. After a few moments of fruitless struggling, Sophie let her foot vent out her frustrations into the side of the refrigerator.

Then, something really weird happened. The fridge groaned. A stomach-churning moan of real discomfort. Sophie flinched and backed away from the appliance, eyes so wide they were almost bulging out of her sockets.

She watched the fridge as it began to vibrate, and a pair of enraged eyes blinked to life. The massive guardian bent over the teenager, only stopping an inch shy of head-butting her in the face, and angrily stared deep into her eyes.

Sophie shook with terror, and she heard Maverick laughing hysterically in the background.

Last edited by EmBreon; 12-13-2010 at 05:21 AM.
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  #26  
Old 12-10-2010, 06:43 PM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

At first I thought, "Damn, this is so long!" But I finished before I knew it and now I want more. MORE, Emma!

This is really good. I really want to know what happens! I can picture everything perfectly. Awesome with the artwork, btw. Very unique that you put a picture for every chapter. I like that.

Houndour, please. :D XD
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  #27  
Old 12-10-2010, 09:49 PM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

Quote:
Originally Posted by Sixto View Post
At first I thought, "Damn, this is so long!" But I finished before I knew it and now I want more. MORE, Emma!

This is really good. I really want to know what happens! I can picture everything perfectly. Awesome with the artwork, btw. Very unique that you put a picture for every chapter. I like that.

Houndour, please. :D XD
Haha, thanks Mario. Houndour may or may not be in future chapters. ;) Glad you're still reading this. I think I'll put a new chapter up once a week. I'm worried that the longer this gets, the less people will want to read it. :( But I'll get it all up eventually; it's 29 chapters long so far. XD


I've also decided to start working on some posters. :D But I'm not going to post them all up until later, because two of them (will) have huge spoilers. XD

But I do want to put this one; it's vague enough to not spoil anything, but its part of a pair. The other one will go up after a few more chapters.

Hope people like it! D:

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Last edited by EmBreon; 12-10-2010 at 10:06 PM.
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  #28  
Old 12-10-2010, 10:32 PM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13]

Sweet! Posters are meant to be advertised, no? You forgot something:




Don't worry, the bottom I added separately. XD

But seriously, posters are meant to be seen. And this story is meant to be read. Make a banner for your sig or something.
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Old 12-11-2010, 02:05 AM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13] Updated!

LOL! Oh my gosh, I love it. XD That looks so cool, haha. I'm keeping it.

Thanks, skillet. Think I'll make a banner to represent (advertise) soon-ish. Once I get more of my other story chores done. :O

Poor dead pogey forum... Cant wait for Black and White to come out; hope the activity will increase then.
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Old 12-14-2010, 02:02 AM
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Default Re: Secrets of the Timekeeper [PG-13] Updated!

Haha, I love Sophie's sarcastic outlook on this whole thing. It's SO modern teenager. xD

And yay, Pokemon! And double yay, Rotom-F! :DDD Bad ass choice of Pokemon there, and I would also like to compliment you on the play on "Stagnant" and "Stag." I don't know why, but ti seems very clever to me. :P

I second, Sixto; you need advertising for your story because it's a must read. Lovely banner, by the way. Celebi looks awesome in your style. It kinda gives off that, "Deity of ancient times," feel. And Sophie looks like she's going to kick some butt. xD

Can't wait for the next chapter, Emma. Great job! ^-^

- Kat
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