Flaxen haired Cwena Engow awakened a few minutes ahead of her alarm clock's habitual screech that ran through dawn's tranquility causing agitation to her dreams every morning.
She lazily sat up on her modest bed, pushing out the varying pitches of crickets seeking a mate and staring at a couple of pictures that dangled from the flowered, pale, yellow walls of her room. The first portrait was of a five year old minor with a bright grin on her small face with pouted lips trying to blow out the candles on her cake. The second was when she was around nine, she'd insisted on dying her hair black when she'd gone with her parents to Hythorp; one of the provinces that made up Wabrook, west of Ingfalls.She glanced at the third painting before yawning loudly, causing droplets of tears to fill her eyes.
As she stood up from her bed, unto the cold, white tiles, the corner of her eyes flashed at the first frame, but this time, there was something else.Her younger self wasn't just blowing out candles with a grin. She was staring at her, wide eyed, with a sickening smirk plastered on her face, and this time around, behind her young self in the picture was a... Gloomy, shadowy frame with large, red eyes looking ready to pounce!
Cwena Engow stopped dead on her tracks, her heart beating hard, strong and severely against her ribcage! She slowly looked at the picture again and this time, it had gone back to normal.She clumsily pushed her feet into her slippers, not daring to take her eyes off her portrait on the wall.
She ran her index finger over the portrait cautiously then the strangest thing happened.As her finger lay on where she thought she'd seen the mysterious, dark matter a few seconds ago, she felt the picture breathing in, and out, and in, and out and then, she felt the picture's heartbeat. What the...
If a high voltage of electricity had shot out of the wall towards her hand, she wouldn't have withdrawn her hand faster than she did!Then her eyes fell on something more startling at her window. A thick, arid, gray fleshed, bright crimson eyed sprite ducked his head, not wanting to be seen.
Cwena Engow ran over to her window, running her eyes around from the pale blue, Monday sky to the deftly trimmed lawn. Her eyes searched all around for whatever it was that she'd seen but, nothing.
“Must a' been my hallucinations,” she whispered to herself, rubbing her palms together and staring at her five year old self on the wall.
Cwena Engow's lengthy buns of hair bounced on and off her shoulders as she raced; with a lot of hearty gasps, into Ingfalls High, Wabrook. The grounds was void of students and the stony, four-storeyed building; intimidating and mysterious was silent, as usual.
Cwena Engow was Ingfalls High's nerdy celebrity. She'd represented her school in the provincial levels of BOOKaneer where she'd gotten a gold medal, she'd gone on to the regional grade where she'd broken the record for answering the highest number of mathematical questions in a minute which was 570 questions! And she'd won the national competition; BOOKaneer Worm, all in the year 213 ClW (Century-long War).Other than that, she'd won local quizes which brought fame to her school, created her own mathematical formulas - in her own words, “for easier comprehension,” she was officially a Chess grandmaster and at one point, almost had an hall in Ingfalls High named after her.
But amidst all her brilliance and (unwanted) fame, she had just one friend - her best friend right from Preschool, Gerey Wysalt. And as she ran and panted up the dark, steeped stairs and through dusty corridors to her first class of the day, Philosophy, she had no other thoughts in her head than spilling all what she'd seen that morning to him.
The loud bells of Ingfalls High pierced through the classes where “wisdom was being shoved into hollow brains,” as Mrs. Joanne Pyley, the geometry teacher said often, and it was time for History class; the first class Gerey and Cwena shared for the day.
Cwena had her books wrapped in her hands and she fought her way through the bodies and chatters of other students into the class, occupying a position at the front. Gerey came in not more than three minutes after and with a lot of difficulty, found a sit two rows behind Cwena's.
When all the students were seated, expecting the fleshy faced, ever jovial Mr. Alas Sergo to pop out of nowhere and make history class as fun as it could be, things went chilly.
The cold, distant, hostile and unfriendly footsteps of the Principal, Prof. Drynge (Erim) Galboph, tightened the air with tension.Prof. Drynge took sharp, successful footsteps always in a consistent rhythm that resonated in the eardrums of all the students, then he got to the classroom's door and - stopped.
He turned the door knob slowly, opened the door, and walked in, an old man with untidy, grey hair, a long, nasty robe, a few freckles on his face, and a crooked smile, plodded behind him.
“This is your new History teacher!” his voice reverberated in the cold, stony walls.
All the students sat still on their seats, barely daring to breath as though they were puppets waiting for the puppeteer's command.
“He is Sir Oswic Osbeoth, well versed in the chronicles of Ingfalls, and the rest of Wabrook. He was born not long after the Century-long War meaning all your questions will be answered not from simulated facts and dusty old textbooks but from experience - his experience.” The Principal stopped to catch his breath, his eyes moving from student to student but resting on Gerey three seconds longer than usual, he resumed, “and we, the Ingfalls High community sure are privileged to have a living legend here in our midst, passing down his great understanding to all your green hearts,” the Principal spread out his arms like a Catholic Priest will before he resumed, “and that is why he is here - to indoctrinate.”There was a long pause then Prof. Drynge Galboph resumed, “Be rest assured that Ingfalls High is here to bring the best out of every student by putting the best into them, and that is exactly what we will do, even if it means drilling what we have to offer into the most stubborn of hearts.”
And with that, the Principal, Prof. Drynge, walked out of the taut classroom, his famous, chill footsteps with him.
Absolute calm descended on all the students as they watched the old man, who was about two hundred years old walking sluggishly - his grimy, oversized apparel crawling behind him, to the centre of the pulpit.After what seemed like ages, he got to the centre of the class, cleared his throat and spoke slowly, “Well, you all have been fed with lies - all your lives, but that, will be changed soonest,” then he went mute for a long time.
“Today my dears, we - will be talking on the topic - THE SOCIETY AFORE THE CENTURY-LONG WAR - and I will advice that you all unlearn for the truth you'll be receiving to sink in.Wabrook, as we all know, is made up of seven provinces; Ingfalls - its capital, Ciburrh, Hythorp, Ledale, Peford, Deham and Cawic, but what you all failed to know - because it was well hidden from the public, are the quality of humans that existed in each province.”
Sir Oswic Osbeoth breath in deeply, then out, relaxing his lungs and allowing his faint eyesight to move from student to student before he continued his teachings, “There are six breeds of humans, five with beautiful, unimaginable abilities and the sixth with nothing, which you all are - at least, most of you are,” his old eyes became lost in the delightful trance his imagination created, then he continued, “These five breeds have different names and all abilities could be classified into them. We have the Inyangas, they brew concoctions from the finest plants and animal parts to heal. They go everywhere with herbs in an animal hide bag slung around their shoulders, are averagely the happiest of all and mostly lived in Ledale. Then the Necromancers - characterized with shiny, dark skin, have the ability to speak to the dead - an average Necromancer home has a reddish coffin in one of their rooms. They were found mostly in Ciburrh and a few fraction in Deham. Tofras -”
“I'm done with this class and the nonsense I'm hearing. What the hell are T - Tofras and Necromancers?” Aynild Kessel, an extremely fair boy with small, rounded spectacles that hung on his small nose retorted, making a noise as he pushed his sit backwards, creating enough leg room for him to stand on his elephant-like feet.
“I expected this - any other student that isn't interested in this class can take their leave. I promise, the principal will hear nothing of it,” Sir Oswic Osbeoth said with a hint of happiness in his voice.One after the other, the students began to leave the class in low, hypocritical mumbles as though they didn't like the idea of going away.
After not longer than a minute, three students were left - Gerey Wysalt, Cwena Engow and the youngest student in their grade whose uniform was twice too big for him, Lacot Beoford.
Sir Oswic proceeded, “Shamans had the power to influence spirits. Red and white beads could always be found on their neck, legs and hands. They were odd folks that had almost no synergy with the other breeds, and they dwelled in Deham mingling a fair few with Necromancers.”
“Ex - excuse me - sir, I need - to - pee,” Lacot Beoford retorted with a voice barely above a hush.“Ease yourself young sir,” Oswic replied, beaming.
He went silent as Lacot struttled to the front door and out before continuing his lecture, “We have Tofras, the breed to which I belong that bewitch and beguile. I - am a wizard - the last of my kind -”
“Excuse me, sir -” Cwena started but was cut short.“Silence! Cwena Engow!” Sir Oswic's voice grew tough and loud unlike before and his pale, grey eyes opened wide, “this! My dear, is a very, very serious class!” he looked at the door then glanced from Cwena to Werey to Cwena, again, “The entire world rests on our shoulders. Yes! Me, you, and you. I came here for you both and the best you can do for the world right now is to listen!”
Then he resumed on his normal tone, “ - I am the last of my kind. We were distributed all over Wabrook equally and were all fond of going everywhere with our hats and - this!” he pulled out a nine inched stick - a wand, from his long, robe that swaddled along with every step he took. “And now, to the final breed, the Elementalists. Elementalism can be divided into four - the fire kindred which -” Sir Oswic left the pulpit and walked slowly to Gerey, “which your grandfather led - he was the God of Flames. And bless my ol' Soul, your hair! As ox-blood red as his was,” he held a small fraction of Gerey's red hair then let go. As he sauntered sluggishly back to the podium, he added, “they were located in the Northern part of this province, Ingfalls. The Water Clan were located in the South and were always discouraged from mingling with the North. The Air folks sojourned in the far Eastern part of Ingfalls and the Earth race inhabited mid up to the Western part of Ingfalls. The other tribes, Peford and Cawic were occupied mainly by the normal humans.”
Oblivion chunked up every part of the unusual History class, and Sir Oswic said “I know, I know, that you have billions of questions coursing through your brains, but please, before I answer any, you both will have to take this book home, and study it - secretly.”He hastened to Cwena who was two sits in front of Gerey and dropped a gloomy looking, tattered book on her desk.
“Handle with utmost care my dears for without which your questions shall remain nothing but -”And with that, he scurried out of the class, leaving the duo to the strange book.
The rest days of the week hastened away - one after the other, like an avalanche of snow and ice, and in no time, it was Saturday; the day Gerey and Cwena had planned to examine the odd, frayed book Oswic had given them.Gerey woke up around at exactly 9:53 a.m. just as he'd set his alarm to do every Saturday which (when compared to the norm), was later than usual - and odd, too. He spent about an hour cleaning his teeth, washing his body, polishing his hair and putting on a shiny black raglan sleeve.As he stepped out of his room, the delicious scent of Aunt Brione's Bacon and Eggs blew his way, and like a cowboy's lasso, it culled Gerey to the kitchen.The dining room held a pretty large, polished, Chestnut coloured dining table where Gerey sat, impulsively pattering his thumb and two other fingers on the table whilst whistling a familiar tune he'd know all his life. Behind him, next to a window that allowed the sun's ray in, on a f
“What the...!!”Gerey roared out. After all they'd been through, the curiousity they'd bore for a week, listening to the nonsense the Old trickster who'd manipulated their Principal into sacking their beloved Mr. Alas Sergo had spilled in class, the book was empty?!They'd both gone astray in their thoughts thinking of the vile and mean and dirty and old Oswic Osbald, and they didn't realize a large mouth with an awkwardly red tongue that spawned out of nowhere, clasped to the yellow, brittle paper of the book. It was a huge shock that shuddered through them when an insolent, loud and shameless voice shouted at them, “What are you two doing! Keeping me open?”They were both taken aback, Cwena looked up at the window to see if anyone was there and Gerey stared at the door, expecting anyone to come in at that moment.“I'm the book you dolts!” the book said in a boring, matter
Inspector Bertio cautiously put his phone to his ear like it will explode, making a ruin of the unblemished building of the Police Department, Ingfalls, if he didn't employ ample care.A mild voice, chock-full with supremacy, domination and authority spoke on the other end.“I know for sure that your constabulary is very well aware of the case at Radford Glade - the disappearance of everyone present for Mr. Wadsev's promotion to CEO - a total of Seventeen individuals including Mr. Wadsev and his wife, and I'm also certain that radical actions are already being executed or formulated by the police force - but - YOU MUST HURRY,” the person on the other end paused, “and we expect a report from the Chief Inspector, personally, latest by Monday.”“Okay sir -” Bertio replied like a programmed doll.“And did I add that,” the voice subsided to a hush, “the pres
Eallric's 404 slid out of the garage like a caterpillar out of its burrowed habitat. The red of its tail light flashed on Gerey who stood a few metres; in his Ingfalls High's raiment, making known to Eallric the places he couldn't see with the side mirror - to avoid a scratch.After a minute of hitting on the break pedal before allowing it slither out of the carport bit by bit and without a scratch, Gerey hastily shoved his school bag into the secondary division of the car and sat his butts down next to Eallric who was breathing noisily and grinning from ear to ear like a numskull at Brione who waved the duo off as they slowly departed no. 3, Atholl Esplanade.As they propelled down Atholl Esplanade - past a few rusty streetlamps, in the warm restrictions of the car that failed to protect them from the blisteing morning sun, Eallric turned on the radio and tune
Inspector Eallric's 404 picked up pace as it raced down a sloped, remote alleyway which went on below a bridge that connected Brickfield Row and Dove Route together. The alley, Providence Passage, had congested waste bins - places of tourism for flies and maggots, nearly everywhere one's neck turned.As the Peugeot 404 zoomed on; below the friable, unkempt bridge, a retrospect of what he'd experienced on Saturday, along Haunted Hart, as he went on police business to Radford Glade, played in his mind. Right from the very moment he'd driven out of the dark, mind blowing scenery, he couldn't firmly say that he'd seen what he did. It was like a dream. A nightmare. And even if by chance, he was certain of what he'd seen and his mental state, there was absolutely no one buying his tale.A shadowy sensation befell Eallric as him, and his car, were shielded from the su
The words of Sir. Oswic replayed and echoed in Gerey's head as small dribbles of sweat ran down his red hair and tickled his armpits in attempts to let out (at least) fume from his aching arms, “You are the harbinger of sanity to this ignoble world - the gift itself being ‘Pyrokinesis’.”“I - I can't do this.” Gerey retorted, gasping for breath. “Don't say that my dear boy. If you had thoughts of being able to burn down churches, or create volcanoes or even melt a piece of plastic on your first day, you have been dwelling in your fantasies, and this - is reality. Guess what else is reality, boy?”“Ugh, what, sir?” Gerey asked, heaving and puffing like he'd trotted all the way from Ledale to Deham without stopping for a rest. He looked straight into the waned, wise eyes of the wizard, Sir. Oswic.“The verity that this world rests not on my shoulders, no
A week had passed and it kept getting harder for the Police Department, Ingfalls and the Chamber of Duties to keep majority of the citizens of Ingfalls sane as journalists and the Press kept pushing their noses into the business of others - practically anyone, to extract an answer to all that had been happening.The PD though, was their mark. They'd perceived there was something - or things, going on that those at the top of the hierarchy knew about but not majority of the populace and that had spurred them into action as they went about searching for clues that might have been missed, leads to something exciting, shocking/revealing pointers or loose ends to about anything.Every journalism company and Press groups, tried their best to find out what it was that was going on before the others did. If only to get an upper hand.Gas leaks, motor accidents, minor flight mishaps with credit given to the unstable weather, powerplant explosi
The corroded, metal burglary resistors that extended from left to right - forming various rows, then up to down, (vertically) forming quadrilaterals of varying sizes went from rusty black to boiling lava red before letting out long, unending hisses like a vexed basilisk will as it melted under the palms of Gerey Wysalt.The resistors became bright red liquids and fell onto the ground as dense blobs before burrowing into the floor - and walls as brown, charred holes and letting out a suffocating fragrance.After a minute, Gerey was free and with a lot of difficulty, he climbed up his small window.As delicately as possible whilst trying to wrap his mind what was before him, he relaxed on the floating broom of Sir. Oswic and gripped it tightly (hoping it wouldn't catch fire) to avoid him swaying to the left, or right, then falling off.Latest chapter