Categories > Original > Fantasy > The Children of Light
Chapter One
1 reviewAn odd dream and a normal day for Jonathan... but is everything as it seems? *edited, longer and more like I intended*
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The swirling vortex, a pink purplish void, stood out in the impenetrable darkness that was his dream. It always started out like this, the vortex, the darkness.
"Creator, it is time" A voice called, reverberating around the room. It wasn't commanding, but it wasn't pleasant either. "Either save what you have created, or send it to its doom." He walked forward, towards the tear in space and time, towards the vortex. "You have chosen" The voice said, and then fell quiet. He reached out towards the portal...
"Jonathan!" A voice called from downstairs, "Jonathan get up, you will be late for school!" Jonathan got up groggily, the dream fresh in his mind, the sleep still in his eyes. He slowly put on his clothes and went downstairs. His mom was waiting in the kitchen
"It's about time you got up, your going to be late, make yourself something to eat." He grabbed a banana and slowly peeled and ate it. He glanced at the clock, 6:35... Minutes to spare before his bus arrived. He grabbed his stuff, a small black backpack and a composition book, and headed towards his Bus Stop. He sat down, and put his back on this brick wall that separated the main road from a house. He opened his composition book and turned past many pages of writing, and many scratched out pages too, and finally rested on the last page of writing. The top of the page said, "Children of Light??" and underneath this, character bios and plot maps. He read what he wrote and ripped the page out and threw it over his shoulder and pulled out a pen. He put the pen tip on the top of the next fresh sheet of paper, and began writing. This was his regular morning reutine, read what he had written, and then, rewrite it. Totally absorbed in writing, he didnt hear the screech of the busses brakes until it was already stopped. He put the notebook away and climbed onboard the bus. The bus driver gave a friendly nod as Jonathan moved to the middle seats of the bus, where his friends were. He looked out the window, thinking about the best way to add intrest into the first chapter.
"Jonathan, whats up?" Jonathan looked around and saw one of his friends in the seat across from him. The kid was tall and skinny for his age. He had spiked up hair, and one of those novelty t-shirts on with the odd sayings like "Silence is golden but duct tape is silver".
"Nothing much Freshie, nothing much" His friend nodded, and looked out the window. The kid really wasnt a freshman at his school, but ever since his freshman year, Jonathans Sophmore year, he was christened with the name Freshie. At first he didnt like it, but it eventually stuck. The bus finnaly made it to school in one piece, bolts creaking under the pressure of the annorexic cheerleaders exiting. Jonathan exited last, Freshie following close behind.
"What I dont understand, is why dont you just give up on it? I mean you have been trying for two years" Freshie said as Jonathan walked ahead, barely listening to Freshie, new thoughts and ideas whirling through his mind.
"Its not that easy Freshie, when you have something that is great, you dont want to let go" Jonathan said, taking out his locker key. He turned into a hallway and found his locker among the hundreds along the wall, and unlocked it, "You should know that, remember Devon?" Freshie looked away when he mentioned Devons name. "Yeah, the same way you couldnt let go of her, thats why I cant let go of this story" He took out a binder and put it into his bag, and locked it again.
"But what happened between me and Devon, thats totally different.." Freshie began before Jonathan looked at him with an evil glare,
"No, it really isnt that different. Just like you loved Devon, I love this story, I cant leave it unfinished"
Freshie was quiet for a moment. He looked up for a moment as if he was going to say something, but he kept his mouth closed. As Jonathan finished zipping up his bag, the bell rang for first period.
There it was again, that damn Purple Swirling Vortex... In the middle of the empty classroom just floating there like it had always been there, was meant to be there. Today is the day. Jonathan looked around, looking for where the voice came from... but then he realized he hadn't heard anything out loud, nothing was said aloud. Do not be afraid, I mean no harm./The voice wasn't coming from the vortex, it was coming from his own mind... /Today is...
"...Monday, and we all know that Monday is reading day, so take out your books and silently read." the Computer teacher said, and just as quickly as he had spoken up, he disappeared. After a few minutes of reading one of the most confusing books he had ever read (The Sound and the Fury), he put it down and took out his writers notebook. He started to write on a blank piece of paper but in mid sentence, before his mind could process what he wanted the ending of the sentence to be, Jonathan got the urge to draw. He put his pen to the paper, and his hand flew, gliding over the paper, ink trailing behind it like an extension of his hand. Jonathan moved smoothly but determined each twist of the wrist and flick of the hand meant something. Now, you must understand, Jonathan isn't an artist. Well, not in the traditional sense. His idea of good drawing is the stick figure characters that he made up in 3rd grade. But this was different. It seemed like his hand knew exactly where it was meant to go, even if the hands owner had no idea. Soon the paper was covered in ink. In the span of 5 minutes the paper which was barren was now full of design. It was an aerial view of a meadow, the shadow of a castle in the distance. Around the edges weeds crept up, but most seemed benign. But in the center of the drawing was the oddest assortment of people. There were 5 of them, each one seeming to be from a different walk of life. Each one unfamiliar and different... except one, Jonathan himself. Some may think it narcissistic to include himself in a drawing, but he had no control over that, no control as to what he did during those 5 minutes. It was then that Jonathan realized... today was going to be different. And that's when all hell broke loose.
The classroom was silent, everyone reading a book. There wasn't a sound to be heard except for the turn of the page and the odd scratch of a pen on paper every now and then. But the silence was broken by a very small and light whining noise. Very few people noticed it, and those who did ignored it or just thought their ears were tricking them or something. But that whining noise increased, pulsating around the room. It was hard not to notice it immediately and even harder to concentrate on something other than that noise. After a minute or so, the whining noise continued to increase in volume, and every few seconds or so a crack that sounded like small forms of lighting resounded throughout the classroom. Everyone looked around, not sure what to think, what to expect. Jonathan was the first to spot it.
In the center of the classroom, a small dot of light hovered in the air, the whining noise the only indication that it was there. As the whining noise steadily increased, the size of the pinpoint of light increased as well, becoming more defined, more real. People began noticing it, this ball of light hovering in the classroom. Jonathan closed his eyes before looking at it, hoping to god it wasn't what he thought it was. As most people turned away from the bright light, Jonathan looked directly into it... directly into the harsh purple light that comprised the swirling vortex. Today is the day..
Oh it definitely is.... it definitely is.
"Creator, it is time" A voice called, reverberating around the room. It wasn't commanding, but it wasn't pleasant either. "Either save what you have created, or send it to its doom." He walked forward, towards the tear in space and time, towards the vortex. "You have chosen" The voice said, and then fell quiet. He reached out towards the portal...
"Jonathan!" A voice called from downstairs, "Jonathan get up, you will be late for school!" Jonathan got up groggily, the dream fresh in his mind, the sleep still in his eyes. He slowly put on his clothes and went downstairs. His mom was waiting in the kitchen
"It's about time you got up, your going to be late, make yourself something to eat." He grabbed a banana and slowly peeled and ate it. He glanced at the clock, 6:35... Minutes to spare before his bus arrived. He grabbed his stuff, a small black backpack and a composition book, and headed towards his Bus Stop. He sat down, and put his back on this brick wall that separated the main road from a house. He opened his composition book and turned past many pages of writing, and many scratched out pages too, and finally rested on the last page of writing. The top of the page said, "Children of Light??" and underneath this, character bios and plot maps. He read what he wrote and ripped the page out and threw it over his shoulder and pulled out a pen. He put the pen tip on the top of the next fresh sheet of paper, and began writing. This was his regular morning reutine, read what he had written, and then, rewrite it. Totally absorbed in writing, he didnt hear the screech of the busses brakes until it was already stopped. He put the notebook away and climbed onboard the bus. The bus driver gave a friendly nod as Jonathan moved to the middle seats of the bus, where his friends were. He looked out the window, thinking about the best way to add intrest into the first chapter.
"Jonathan, whats up?" Jonathan looked around and saw one of his friends in the seat across from him. The kid was tall and skinny for his age. He had spiked up hair, and one of those novelty t-shirts on with the odd sayings like "Silence is golden but duct tape is silver".
"Nothing much Freshie, nothing much" His friend nodded, and looked out the window. The kid really wasnt a freshman at his school, but ever since his freshman year, Jonathans Sophmore year, he was christened with the name Freshie. At first he didnt like it, but it eventually stuck. The bus finnaly made it to school in one piece, bolts creaking under the pressure of the annorexic cheerleaders exiting. Jonathan exited last, Freshie following close behind.
"What I dont understand, is why dont you just give up on it? I mean you have been trying for two years" Freshie said as Jonathan walked ahead, barely listening to Freshie, new thoughts and ideas whirling through his mind.
"Its not that easy Freshie, when you have something that is great, you dont want to let go" Jonathan said, taking out his locker key. He turned into a hallway and found his locker among the hundreds along the wall, and unlocked it, "You should know that, remember Devon?" Freshie looked away when he mentioned Devons name. "Yeah, the same way you couldnt let go of her, thats why I cant let go of this story" He took out a binder and put it into his bag, and locked it again.
"But what happened between me and Devon, thats totally different.." Freshie began before Jonathan looked at him with an evil glare,
"No, it really isnt that different. Just like you loved Devon, I love this story, I cant leave it unfinished"
Freshie was quiet for a moment. He looked up for a moment as if he was going to say something, but he kept his mouth closed. As Jonathan finished zipping up his bag, the bell rang for first period.
There it was again, that damn Purple Swirling Vortex... In the middle of the empty classroom just floating there like it had always been there, was meant to be there. Today is the day. Jonathan looked around, looking for where the voice came from... but then he realized he hadn't heard anything out loud, nothing was said aloud. Do not be afraid, I mean no harm./The voice wasn't coming from the vortex, it was coming from his own mind... /Today is...
"...Monday, and we all know that Monday is reading day, so take out your books and silently read." the Computer teacher said, and just as quickly as he had spoken up, he disappeared. After a few minutes of reading one of the most confusing books he had ever read (The Sound and the Fury), he put it down and took out his writers notebook. He started to write on a blank piece of paper but in mid sentence, before his mind could process what he wanted the ending of the sentence to be, Jonathan got the urge to draw. He put his pen to the paper, and his hand flew, gliding over the paper, ink trailing behind it like an extension of his hand. Jonathan moved smoothly but determined each twist of the wrist and flick of the hand meant something. Now, you must understand, Jonathan isn't an artist. Well, not in the traditional sense. His idea of good drawing is the stick figure characters that he made up in 3rd grade. But this was different. It seemed like his hand knew exactly where it was meant to go, even if the hands owner had no idea. Soon the paper was covered in ink. In the span of 5 minutes the paper which was barren was now full of design. It was an aerial view of a meadow, the shadow of a castle in the distance. Around the edges weeds crept up, but most seemed benign. But in the center of the drawing was the oddest assortment of people. There were 5 of them, each one seeming to be from a different walk of life. Each one unfamiliar and different... except one, Jonathan himself. Some may think it narcissistic to include himself in a drawing, but he had no control over that, no control as to what he did during those 5 minutes. It was then that Jonathan realized... today was going to be different. And that's when all hell broke loose.
The classroom was silent, everyone reading a book. There wasn't a sound to be heard except for the turn of the page and the odd scratch of a pen on paper every now and then. But the silence was broken by a very small and light whining noise. Very few people noticed it, and those who did ignored it or just thought their ears were tricking them or something. But that whining noise increased, pulsating around the room. It was hard not to notice it immediately and even harder to concentrate on something other than that noise. After a minute or so, the whining noise continued to increase in volume, and every few seconds or so a crack that sounded like small forms of lighting resounded throughout the classroom. Everyone looked around, not sure what to think, what to expect. Jonathan was the first to spot it.
In the center of the classroom, a small dot of light hovered in the air, the whining noise the only indication that it was there. As the whining noise steadily increased, the size of the pinpoint of light increased as well, becoming more defined, more real. People began noticing it, this ball of light hovering in the classroom. Jonathan closed his eyes before looking at it, hoping to god it wasn't what he thought it was. As most people turned away from the bright light, Jonathan looked directly into it... directly into the harsh purple light that comprised the swirling vortex. Today is the day..
Oh it definitely is.... it definitely is.
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