Photograph

This short story, or rather a short moment in the story Back From The Dead, was based on the song Photograph by Nickelback. It brought up a lot of emotions about memories of the past, my friends and our stupid antics in our youth, the fun we had... And so I channelled that into a little story. It's not very long, but I did put as much emotion as I could into it, so be gentle with this one please?
Anyways, without any further ado, Photograph.

~

Sam held a photo of the four of them as little kids. Zeke was tall and skinny as always, Rayne had short hair back then, but it was just as fiery as it is today. Her braces gave her a geeky look, but in a cute way. Then there she was, she was always a little short, and in the oversized blue hoody, she looked even smaller than usual. Blue hoody? Then she remembered just whose it was, and he stood behind her in the photo. Xaren was only eleven, but he was already showing the earliest signs of muscle. His electric blue eyes sparkled with childish mischief and his hair had yet to darken to his more recent dirty blonde look. A warm tear rolled down her cheek as all the happy memories came flooding back. Playing catch by the creek, truth or dare during those late night camping trips and daring Xaren to kiss her on the cheek. That age of childish innocence was over too quickly. The eleven year old boy in the photo grew into a kind, honest, good-hearted man that died saving the world. How she wished these days were as they once were, all they ever worried about was who was 'it' when they played tag. "I really miss you Xaren. You were my best friend and so much more. Things really won't be the same ever again, no matter how much I wish they were." As the tears fell and her body began to shudder, a smile came to her face. "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." Two pairs of arms wrapped her in a tight embrace.  "I'd give anything to bring him back." "We all would, sweety."
There the three friends sat, consoling each other. Seated on the ledge, a figure in black armour sat, his head hung low. A lone tear made its way down his cheek and dropped into his palm.

Back From The Dead

"Sam! No!" That was the last I saw of him. He pushed me out of the way and the Nexus claimed him instead. The Flame of Life was relit, but he was gone for good. The last image of him still lingers in my mind, framed in blinding light like an angel.  Just like that he was gone, not even ashes, just gone. No scrap of clothing or bits of armour. Not even a fragment of his sword made it. He was just gone, erased from existence in all but memory. Celebrations abounded that night. The Fire Thief was dead and the Fire of Life was alight. But I was sure as hell not feeling joyful. One of my best friends was dead, how could I be happy about that? I spent the night in mourning, I didn't even get any sleep. Just when I thought I found a guy that liked me for all the right reasons, my best friend no less, he sacrifices himself to relight the Fire. To hell with fate and karma, this is just unfair! I missed him so much, even my Ascension ceremony failed to pierce my mask of sorrow. Zeke and Rayne tried their best to comfort me, but even they couldnt and eventually just learned to keep their distance whenever the topic of Xaren came up. It was a sore spot for me for a long time, about five years actually.

Today was the fifth anniversary of the Relighting of the Fire. For obvious reasons, I was moping around the entire day as fanfares blasted through the streets and the denizens of Arcadia came out to join in the festivities. That's when I got a call from Zeke, for an emergency meeting. "What could these evil bastards be planning, today of all days?" I heard Rayne rant from down the hall, sounding rather put off. "Honestly, hunting crime lords around the Deadlands isn't my idea of celebrating the Relighting. I had a date planned tonight with a cute guy and everything!" "Oh for fuck's sake, calm down. You're not the only one sacrificing their day off, so quit whining." Zeke chastised her. When I walked in, the other two fell silent. Master Boro walked in and nodded, a signal for us to take a seat. "Firstly I would like to apologise for pulling the three of you off your holidays, you three deserve to enjoy it most. But our scouts have been reporting a lot of movement by Haagen Gorath's men, something is going to happen soon, possibly tonight. Tonight, we watch and wait for him to make his move. When he does, the three of you need to take him down. Capture him if possible, kill him otherwise.  His reign in the criminal underworld needs to be stopped. Be prepared, you three. This will not be an easy fight, he is a powerful Psy and hundreds of Shifters waiting in the shadows. Be on your guard. Good luck, Heroes." without another word or a response, he waltzed out. He always was very frank and to the point. "Great, another date up in smoke. I'll never get a boyfriend like this..." Rayne whined as they left to change out of their festive best and into their combat gear. I looked at myself in the mirror, wondering what ever happened to that sweet, innocent little girl. I was well-sculpted from the active lifestyle I led. Twenty one years of age, with long, straight dark brown hair and lightly tanned skin, i could catch the eye of most guys with my cute face and big, sweet eyes. I ran my hand down my new combat suit, silver with light shock plates for extra protection at my joints. My eyes wandered over to the small alcove in the side of the wall. There, behind a glass panel, lay my old suit. Burnt, ripped, dented and still bearing the scars of the Battle of the Relighting, it brought back some bad memories, but it also reminded her of her time before the Battle. She sighed and spun around to face her weapons rack. Her twin windmill shurikens retracted as she slipped them behind her back, followed by her daggers and handgun. With a heavy sigh, she finally headed to the deployment bay for insertion. Rayne and Zeke were already in the deployment bay, Rayne on her holopad and Zeke fiddling with his armguard straps. As I stepped in, they rose with a silent nod before taking their seats in the Vortex dropship. The only sound that permeated the small hovercraft was the low hum of the engines as they entered the central business district. Rayne was still tapping her holopad, but her brow furrowed at one point. "Rayne, what's up? You don't look that happy about whatever you're looking at." I inquired. "There's this bounty hunter that keeps popping up around the reports some of our scouts have been sending in. Hasnt been around long, but he sounds like a real pro. No info, no records, not even a damn picture of him without his helmet on. He has taken down crime lord after crime lord, bounty hunter after bounty hunter, all without being tracked, traced or anything." "Sounds like a freaking ghost," Zeke chimed in. "what's his name?" "we don't have even that. All we know is he calls himself Myth and he can't even be tracked through normal means because he doesn't use the usual bounty hunter circles. He gets his contracts privately, that usually means high profile kills and big amounts of credits." "whatever happened to 'Follow the money'?" I said without thinking. "it's not that simple, we need to know who is hiring him to be able to follow the money, right now we have nothing." "let's hope he doesn't show up tonight." Zale said. "with our luck, he isn't just gonna show up, he is gonna carve his initials into Haagen's skull before he makes his exit."she replied rather exasperated. "Good, then we'll get him instead." I stood at the back of the Vortex, staring out at the Arcadian skyline. We were in the middle of the Central Business District, any misfires could cost innocent lives, so we decided to go in close-quarters. I pulled my twin daggers off my back, Zeke opened his quarterstaff and Rayne unrolled her dagger-whip. I hated heights, so naturally I hated air insertions. Closing my eyes, I leapt forth and let weightlessness take me. On the inside, I was wracked with fear, but I didn't let it overtake my proper senses. I was the first to pull my chute, contented with drifting slowly and quietly to the waiting rooftop. I watched as the three figures fell from the sky.

They were Arbiters, I would have to try not to hurt them. A silver suit? It can't be... Oh just my luck. I can't skip out on this contract, but this could get complicated...

Good to be back

Hey all of my readers! *crickets*
Alright, whoever happens to be reading this blog, at least. I know only one of my readers in real life checks this blog like... Ever. And I am thankful to at least have her reading, but if you're not her and you have been reading, I'd like to take this time to thank you :) I know I don't have many, if any readers, but I do appreciate those that do.

Anyways, I'm sorry to any of you that check back regularly for any updates, I was away in Perth for about a week a little while back and I was only back for a couple of days before I was thrown back into school, so it's probably been a godawful long time since I last posted something. I had a wonderful time in Perth with my family, especially my cousins and aunts in Australia that I rarely get to see. But then again, I did miss the people back home and couldn't wait to get back. I was so disappointed to know I missed the annual Drama camp, even more so that they ended just as I touched down. I was hoping to run down for a quick picture before heading home at least. Things don't always go as you'd hoped they would, I suppose.

Anyways, there are days where I don't have my laptop with me and some of my story ideas come to me at the worst times, so I've taken to writing stories in my phone. Yes, I sometimes look like I'm texting someone half the Bible simply because I'm actually writing on the bus or wherever. So I thought I could share two of the stories I wrote in my free time on my phone. They are linked, one was actually inspired by a song that actually brought out a lot of emotion and memories in me. It reminded me of the good times I had back in secondary school, the friends I made, the bonds I'd forged with them. I'm past that stage where I can do those things though, I'm older and I dont think I could pull it off with the excuse of youth fuelling my stupidity anymore. God I sound like I'm sixty... Anyways, listening to that song and remembering how it all used to be, I actually almost felt like crying at the bus stop when I was played it and flicked through my albums on Facebook. But I digress. I sorta channelled that into a short little excerpt that is somewhere in the larger story, but not mentioned in the main story. I'll be posting them both, the main story SO FAR, followed by the short little story. Be reminded, I call myself the Fragmented Storyteller for a reason, so it's only a small fragment of a larger story. But for now, enjoy it!

A Pilgrimage Home...

Hey guys, I don't have a story for you all today. Well, maybe in a more loose sense. Yesterday, a dear friend of mine and myself spent the day at the Harry Potter exhibition. And, as cliché as it may sound to say this, it really was magical.

A little more back story on myself for those that may not have known me very long. As a kid, I was pretty active, I played games and stuff like any kid would. One day, I picked up this book. It read "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" on the cover. Now, as a child growing up on shows like Batman, Spiderman and Power Rangers, I was a major superhero-admiring kid. At the time, all I wanted were superpowers. Magic never crossed my mind. Not in the least. But something made me wanna give this a try. So I thought, "Well, why not. Maybe it'll get my Mom off my back when she next tries to convince me to stop playing Playstation and tells me to go read a book."

Now I was no avid reader, and my English at the time was pretty average. But after I picked that book up, I was hooked. Not to say that I became anti-social, not at all. But I did spend a good amount of time burying my face inside this wonderful book. My Mom even went from telling me to sit still to telling me to "Put the damn book down! Otherwise you're gonna fall down an open manhole or drain or walk straight into a wall!" (Mind you I did actually walk into a wall a couple of times and fell into an open drain I didn't see once.) I used to do that with my Gameboy in front of my face, but I traded that in for a book. Believe it or not, I saw the faintest hint of a smile on my Mom and Grandma's faces. They said it was because I was just like my Mom now, unable to put a good book down even for a minute.

But I digress. Now I only started reading Harry Potter when I was about 9, and for some reason I had The Philosopher's Stone and The Chamber of Secrets already at home, so once I'd covered the book from end to end, I was off to the next one without a hitch. I slowly became a quiet reader in class, not usually hanging out with the soccer or basketball players, but running off with my two friends to the library and huddling in one corner with a good book. I remember around this time that the movies were coming out, and watching them for the first time just made me love the series even more. So as I got older, I began moving from book to book, watching the movie as soon as I had finished the book. My childhood to my teens can actually be chronologically marked by which book I read at the time. I always seemed to have the next book ready on my shelf just as I finished the last one (Thank you, Mom. I love you.)

By the time I had reached the sixth installment, the Half-Blood Prince, I was in love with the story, the movies, everything about this wonderful, magical world created by this one brilliant woman. I waited patiently for the Deathly Hallows and was rewarded handsomely with a brand new book one fine day. I remember that night, I refused to open and read it because I knew I would get no sleep if I did. So I shelved it and as I slid it in next to the rest of the books, all sitting in order, I felt the last piece of the puzzle click into place. I savoured every page, every word, every twist and turn, knowing that I only had one chance to enjoy the surprises and wanting to find out what happens next. And as soon as that last page at King's Cross, with them all grown up and their kids embarking on their train ride to that wonderous place I proudly call home as dearly as I do my own abode, I felt a part of my childhood end. I literally felt... older. A big constant in my life had finished, I had no next book to look forward to, nothing else was going to happen, there was nothing more to the story. Like a door was closed and bolted behind me, there was no turning back.

And as I watched the opening to the last movie, I felt that door open just a peek. I felt young again, like there was still something to look forward to, to find out. There was more to the story, even though I knew the ending. I was excited, I was happy, and at the same time I was sad when the HP logo appeared on screen and the legendary 8-notes that summed up a large portion of my childhood played through the cinema speakers. And when it finally ended, I remember staying till the credits, some part of me hoping that something would happen at the end like a teaser for the next film. But I was brought back to a harsh reality when the lights came on and we were ushered out. I felt even older, and I almost felt like crying when it was all over.

But then, one day I heard news of a HP exhibition in Singapore. I had to go, naturally. I met this wonderful Potterhead in school (You know who you are :D) and asked if she'd like to go as well. So I ordered the tickets and when yesterday finally came, well needless to say we were both happy and sad beyond words. When the famous scenes from the movies played on-screen, each a defining moment from both our childhoods, she actually cried a little and I had to do my best not to do the same. And to quote her from her own blog:

I'm home.
The part of my childhood I though gone after the last movie ended, was back again. I wouldn't have traded that wondrous, amazing feeling for the world. All of a sudden, that childish hope that all that magic was real, that Hogwarts was real, that I could have gone there and was going to someday, to be a part of that universe, for that brief hour or so that we were there, it came back again. Think and judge what you will of that, but eighteen or not, I actually felt the cold, hard truth of reality waver and disappear, replaced with that childish hope that someday I'd sit in the Great Hall and be welcomed as part of the Hogwarts family. In that brief montage, I was brought back to age 9, when I first picked up that wonderful book and grew 7 years in about 5 minutes. I'm still half-convinced Errol got lost delivering my acceptance letter... Damn bird...

We had a wonderful time seeing the props and costumes, so when it came to the end, we saw the sign that said "No Re-entry" we immediately turned back to make it last. But alas, all good things must come to an end, and we stepped over that threshold and I know that we both regretted it.

But, as J.K. Rowling said, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." And I regret not a second of watching the movies, not a word of the books I've read and not a second of the wonderful part of my childhood Harry Potter has created.

And to quote this amazing girl that so kindly accompanied me to the exhibition and helped make this wonderful memory all the more wonderful and all the more memorable:

But it doesn't matter how old I get. It doesn't matter if the rest of the world forgets about Harry Potter and the amazing world that J.K. Rowling has shown us. Because I know that this fandom will certainly never forget The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One... Harry Potter.

We raise our wands, until the very end.

Heroes Among Demons

Prologue

Dante stood amidst the ruins of the once grand city of Ax’hibra, the ancient City of the Damned. The once great, sprawling city now lay in ruins, the ancient city of stone and obsidian now lay desolate and abandoned, robbed of its glory but not its power. Around him, the twelve Archdemons stood in a circle, a circular platform covered in ancient glyphs and runes. Kneeling in Dante’s direction, their heads fixated on the rubble-strewn ground, the twelve evil beings chanted in the guttural language of the demons, invoking the ancient forces placed within this city by the original Lords of the Damned. A twelve sided star glowed around him, made of inscriptions in the demon language, glowing a deep blood red. He felt the dark forces of the city begin to flow through him, changing him, morphing him, turning him into… he himself knew not.

          “From now on,” Sel’ix, the eldest of the Archdemons, hissed, “thou, Dante, shall be known no more as a lowly human, bound by mortality of the flesh and the laws of mortals. Thou are now, and forever more, a demon. The powers the Lord of Darkness bestowed upon our race will now be yours. Do not disappoint us, young one…”

          Dante’s body was wracked with a fiery agony, it felt like liquid fire ran through his veins, his bones felt like they were heated in a forge and his mind reeled from the pain, he felt like he was going mad. He screamed in agony as his skin turned black as obsidian and tattoos were seared into his flesh, runes burning red like those of the star he stood within. He heard Sel’ix’s last words before he succumbed to the blackness of a waking dream.

“Do not disappoint us…”

Chapter 1

Dante’s eyes fluttered as he awoke in total darkness, without a light source in sight. He groped in the darkness for his blade, Daemonia, the blade forged through the ancient style of “blood crafting”, infusing blood with the white-hot steel, giving it an iridescent scarlet colouring. After locating his weapon, Dante stared at the tattoos that burned ruby red in the darkness. They resembled a dragon curling about his upper torso, it’s head coming to rest over his heart after arching over his left shoulder. Similarly styled tattoos adorned both his arms.

          Using the new powers now coursing through his veins, he uttered a word in the demon language. “Arishok!”  In a flash of red light, Dante left the cavernous maw of the City of the Damned, leaving it once again as silent as the dead that rested beneath the once great granite and obsidian buildings.

          Dante returned to the land of the living in a brilliant crackle of scarlet lightning at the mouth of the cavernous edifice shaped in the likeness of a demon with ram horns, the entrance to Ax’hibra. It was time to remind the angels why Hell is so feared by the humans.

“Humans”, he thought to himself, “Strange not to think of myself as one anymore…”

          Kestrel suddenly felt a spike of fear in his chest. It was apparent Adelaide and Amylia felt it too.

          “Kestrel,” began Adelaide, “Did you feel that?”

          “I did, that does not bode well for us…”

          “What does that mean, big sister?” Amylia inquired. Adelaide was Amylia’s older sister and her teacher. The Covenant Council sensed the flows of magic shift, a sign that almost always heralded a changing of hands in power. They had the three of them live amongst the mortals to find out why, and also a perfect opportunity to train Amylia, who recently obtained the rank of an angel, no longer a cherub awaiting her lessons in the Glorious Heavens. Kestrel would teach young Amylia in the art of the blade whilst Adelaide instructed her younger sister in the use of the arcane arts.

          “Kestrel, I think what we just felt meant we are…” Adelaide trailed off as her own words sunk in. They took a quick look around before letting their travelling cloaks fall. They stood fully armoured in silver and gold armour, with emeralds and diamonds on their gauntlets and breastplates. They stretched their wings gracefully and took flight, unaware that a new evil already stalked the land, and that they truly were too late, for a new age was soon to begin…

Dante stood atop the snow-capped mountain, feeling the cold against his bare chest. His armour was only his gauntlets, armoured greaves, battle-worn pauldron and boots. From afar, he spotted three lights, so bright and magnificent; he almost mistook them for stars. Now, he had the power to repay the angels for what they stole from him…

          Dante descended the surface of the mountain quickly, free falling time and again to reach the ground as quickly as possible. Even with his newfound powers, powers that he barely understood yet, he knew he could not hope to defeat an angel. Not yet, especially not three. He would need instruction in the arcane arts, possibly with the blade as well seeing as he could strike harder, faster and more accurately than ever before but lacked the finesse that came with practice and battle.

Seeing smoke rise in the distance, Dante checked the map he always kept in a pouch on his belt. Torn and not without fold lines and creases, it was his father’s. The top left hand corner was burned, a reminder of the fire that consumed his home at the tender age of ten and all that he could save was some of his father’s armour, which he now wore, the map and a necklace his mother gave him. It was tinted blue, his mother’s favourite colour.

Shaped like a heart, it was very simple and unadorned, but he treasured it more than anything. She always said, “A warrior is born when he fights; a hero is born when what he fights for is right. But a legend, a legend is born when a person would sacrifice the last thing he can for what he believes in. This necklace once belonged to a legendary hero, he died knowing he did the right thing for the right reason. Someday, you can be just like him. A hero...

It was just a tale that his mother used to tell him. He used to believe in it, but the reality of it struck him eight years ago...

          The three angels stood among the ruins of the unholy city of Ax’hibra. The celestial beings could feel the seething evil of the long-dead city permeating the very air, the ground beneath their boots almost seemed to pulsate with dark energies.

          “Looks like we really are too late, Kestrel.” Adelaide remarked, laying a bare, unblemished hand upon the stone platform riddled with runic glyphs and recoiled with a yelp of surprise and pain when a painful red spark struck her finger. They felt a great nexus of dark power bloom within moments, strong and ancient forces were at work and very recently, at that.
“It feels like… Yes, a binding took place here.” Adelaide remarked. They followed the well of dark power to this accursed place, and although they could feel the residual energy here, the pulsating magic found here did so freshly, the evil intent so great that it could still be felt.

          “It appears so. We must tell the Council immediately, they will know how to deal with this matter. Those monsters from Hell are planning something, and I’d bet my blade that this is for some new, secret weapon.” Kestrel said with a troubled expression on his face.

           “Can we not simply find it and destroy it ourselves, Master Kestrel?” she inquired almost innocently. Instead, Adelaide answered her younger sibling.

          “Amylia, to hunt a weapon of the demons could be suicide. Demons mastered the art of war, battle, death and chaos. Whatever it is that we are hunting, it is sure to be a harbinger of death. If we fail, the humans and angels are in grave danger.”

          “The Council will hear about this, but I will hunt this fiend. Alone. Amylia needs a teacher, Adelaide. So you two stay out of it, I will hunt him myself.” Kestrel announced to both sisters’ horror.

          “Kestrel, you are known for being a true hero among the angels, but now isn’t the time for it.” But Kestrel wouldn’t have it, he took off with a flap of his large wings and was out of sight.

          Kestrel flew, the rain beating down upon him and blurring his vision. But he flew not with his eyes, but with his other senses. Not his physical ones, the senses only a user of the arcane had. He felt the atmosphere around him change. Where once he felt a balanced neutrality permeate the air, he now felt darkness and evil. Magic shifted  according to the flow of powers, and right now the shift he felt did not bode well for any celestial powers…

Welcome!

Hey everyone! Well, welcome to my new blog! To any of my frequent readers, I know I have at least a handful, thank you for staying loyal readers. I hope this blog helps you guys get more of my writing rather than needing me to email it you. And for any and all new readers who may see this, I'd like to take a minute to introduce myself.

I'm currently a second-year engineering student currently in a polytechnic, but one of my passions is to write. Mostly fantasy, perhaps a little sci-fi here and there. I do love the Green Lantern and often write my own stories of the Lanterns in my own story arc. One of many different kinds of stories, I assure you all, so no need to leave too hastily now. My stories often come in fragments, but once in a while I promise to piece things together and give you all a bigger, fuller chunk of a story. Once in a while, I'll post some personal stuff, sure, but this is mostly for my stories and to get in touch with more readers and stay connected to my older readers who have so loyally stayed even through long bouts of stagnation and lack of free time to write. (Any engineering students will most definitely understand.)

And feedback is always welcome! Please, it may be my story, but the readers should have a say in it if only for the sake of improving your reading experience. At my own discretion of course, they are my stories after all. Also, don't be surprised to see a couple of special appearances in my stories, I like sneaking some of my friends in sometimes.

Well, that's it for my intro. Nothing much to say, really. I've said this before (not here, of course), and I'll say it again: I'm just a daydreamer with way too much paper and free time. So there's not very much I can or will say about myself other than that. I'll let my stories do the talking for me.

So, who wants to hear a story?