Chapter 1- Static Electricity

Alex sat on the edge of the cliff, legs hanging out unto the abyss that the meteor had made. It had cleared out an entire portion of the town just two nights before, lighting up the sky for one hundred miles. It was then that Alex’s curiosity had been too much and he decided to venture out from his neighboring village with his friend Slone.
“Are we done here?” Slone asked, bored. The young man fell back and landed with his head just over the crater. He looked up at Alex, who was mesmerized by the immensity of the place. “It’s just like you to want to look at a deep hole for hours on end.”
“Chill,” Alex said, his deep voice rumbling. “It’s awesome- look at it. What could do that?”
“A meteor,” Slone said. “Now, come on, I have a date tomorrow, and I heard this chick puts out all on the table.” He snickered.
“You have a problem, get it fixed.” Alex stood.
“Well, that’s no reason for you to get jealous, my dear friend.”
“Why did I bring you along again?”
“You love me,” Slone said. He stood. “What now? Can we go back?”
“No!” Alex said. “If you want to go back, go back.”
“Why would you ever stay here? It’s so boring! Look at the place, it’s so desolate!”
Alex grunted and sat. “Help me climb down.”
“Are you crazy?!”
“No.” Alex reached within the pocket of his woolen pants and pulled out a piece of paper with intricate markings. Slone shuddered at the presence of it.
“Where did you get that?” Slone asked, as he sat next to Alex.
“I made it.”
“No you didn’t!” Slone gasped. “Where did you learn to make Cantoris?”
“It’s a very low-level Cantori,” Alex pointed out. “Justin helped me make it.”
“Where did Justin learn how to make Cantoris?”
“Just hold on!” Alex said, putting his hand on the paper. “I need to concentrate.”
“No, no, no! Alex!” Slone stood up, terrified. “You know those things are illegal if you don’t have a license. If you activate it here, we’ll have Tamers all over us by the end of the… minute!”
“Calm down!” Alex stood up, towering over Slone. “I told you- it’s a very low-level Cantori. I researched it and average citizens can use the most basic of Cantoris without a license. Besides,” Alex turned around, “there’s nothing but forest around us.”
“That doesn’t matter, Alex. Those little pieces of parchment give out a signal like a dragon’s roar.” Slone backed away.
“Don’t even worry about it. It’s a storage Cantori, nothing bad will happen.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Alex said, masking his insecurity. “I’m sure.”
Slone sighed. “And you’re sure you know how to use it?”
“How hard can it be?” Alex closed his eyes. “Now, be quiet. I need some time to read the words.”
The tall youth held the paper in both his hand as his friend watched, worried and sweaty. Alex took a deep breath, feeling the wind around him starting to whip the nearby trees and Slone himself, who felt unsure of his step and had to sit down so that he wouldn’t fall over. The wind gathered in a pocket around Alex, moving his clothes and buffeting the piece of parchment he held in his hands. It didn’t faze Alex as he continued to read the enchantments. It almost scared Slone, how proficient his giant friend looked. It wasn’t enough that Alex had been left at the doorsteps of the church of his village and that his skin was slightly darker than everybody else’s (although compared to the villager’s pale skin despite the hours of sun they received from farming, many things looked significantly darker), but listening to the chants from the Cantori and the whistling the wind made against the grass at Alex’s feet filled Slone with a deep sense of pity. He had pity that in a community such as theirs, where normalcy was almost dictated as a law and any deviation of that punished under severe psychological isolation, Alex had to be so different with his tallness, the tanner color of his skin, and now the talent to read Cantoris so easily.
As Alex finished the incantation, the wind subsided completely as if it had disappeared into the void, a deep, black, gaping hole that appeared upon the paper. Alex quickly reached within the hole, and immediately Alex turned icy cold. Digging around inside the hole blindly, he managed to pull out the tip of a rope that looked like any other rope Slone had seen. Alex threw the rope to Slone, who stood up and tugged at it.
“Pull it,” Alex commanded, “I have to keep the Cantori working.”
Slone nodded. He tugged and pulled, more and more, until the entire rope fell to the ground and the hole disappeared. “I didn’t know the action of activating a Cantori was so violent,” Slone observed, moving to the nearest tree.
“It’s not supposed to be,” Alex said, staring at the piece of parchment. “I guess I’m not that good at it.”
“How do you know it’s not supposed to be?” Slone asked from the tree as he tied the rope around it, forming a formidable knot.
“I’ve seen it done before.” Alex rolled up the piece of parchment and replaced it in his pocket. “But that doesn’t matter, I’ll study it later.” He went over and grabbed the rope, tying it around his waist.
“I don’t think you should,” Slone confessed, worried. “What would the others think?”
“Since when has it mattered what the others think?” Alex inspected the rope at his waist and confirmed that it could hold. “Now, help me down.”
“What is it that you want to go look at?” Slone asked. “There’s nothing in there.”
“Maybe,” Alex said, “but what if there is?”
“If there is, it’s dangerous, and you should do well not to get involved.”
“All my life I’ve been different than everybody else,” Alex said, “so why should I make myself the same now? It’s too late for that; I won’t gain the respect everybody thinks a person should deserve.”
“You certainly won’t gain it with this,” Slone said, grabbing the rope in his two hands. “Besides, do you really think I can lift a giant like you?”
“I’ll climb down using the rocks. The rope is just a precaution. Just hold on to it in case I slip.”
“In case you slip, I’ll be dragged to hell with you!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex assured, “everything will be OK.” Alex neared the edge of the crater, several stories high. Alex was surprised at how much bigger it had become now that he had dared challenge it. It couldn’t have been bigger than the royal castle at Nevaeh- that would just be ridiculous. But it was big nonetheless.
Alex sat at the edge to ready himself for the climb down the crater, and as he steadied his foot on one of the rocks below, he looked up at Slone. “Thank you for doing this,” Alex said. “You’ve always been there.”
Slone stomped on the ground. “Just hurry up, Alex, I want to get out of here!”
“Your date, right.” Alex began his descent.
“No, it’s not that,” Slone stated. “It’s just that… I have a bad feeling about this, Alex. You know how I get when I get bad feelings.”
“Don’t remind me,” Alex said, but it was for naught.
Memories flashed across his mind from when they were barely children. They were playing in the fields of their local farmer, Trevor, a hardy man who never proved to be light-hearted or to approve of foolishness. One day, out of the blue, Slone had turned to look at Alex and express the bad feelings he was having, as if something was going to happen and that they should get out of the farm as soon as possible. As it turns out, Trevor was making his rounds early around his farm that day, and if they had not gotten out they would have surely received a beating from the farmer.
Then there was the other instance. It was but a year ago that the kingdom of Nevaeh, the kingdom Alex and Slone lived in, ended the war with the kingdom of Rosencreutz through a truce, a temporary cease-of-arms that threatened to explode near their borders, where skirmishes still happened every so often. The village that Slone and Alex live in so happens to be near the borders of Nevaeh and Rosencreutz, and one day not so long before the forming of the pact between the two kingdoms, Slone and Alex wandered through the streets until Slone received a sort of “bad feeling”. Not too long after that, soldiers from the Rosencreutz army marched right through their village, threatening to pillage and burn if they did not receive the supplies they demanded. Every villager agreed, and the village was left untouched.
Still, as Alex made his way down the crater, he made sure that every step downward he took was safe and secure. He worried not about the descent itself, though. What he worried about was the feeling he received from the center of the crater itself. The meteor seemed nowhere in sight, if it WAS a meteor that had created the crater in the first place. Alex chuckled at himself. Of course it had to have been a meteor.
“Alex!” Slone shouted from above, snapping Alex from his thoughts and concentration.
“What?!” Alex shouted back, still moving.
“Are you OK down there?!”
“Yes!” Alex yelled, and as he reached ground that he could stand on, albeit slanted, he let go of the rocks protruding from the crater’s wall. “I’m untying the rope!”
“What?!”
“I’m untying the rope! I’ve reached the bottom!” Alex starting untying the knot he had made and let the rope fall at his feet.
“Be careful, Alex! I have a bad feeling!”
“Don’t remind me,” Alex whispered to himself, and he started to walk.
There was an eerie wind that blew across the crater. It chilled him, but at the same time it had a hot breath that enveloped his soul and that fueled his curiosity. As he stepped over rocks and went around craters, he began to get closer and closer to the center and as he did so, he began to see that the ground had been charred, burnt soil producing fumes that made Alex’s nose tickle. Eventually, Alex got used to the smell but not even the stench of burnt rocks drained his desire to investigate. He reached the center, and to his utter dismay he found nothing. Alex looked back toward Slone. He wasn’t there anymore. Ah, Alex thought, lazy bum probably sat down.
He grabbed his arms with his hands. The wind had gotten worse. He looked around and noticed a patch of dirt that seemed unaffected by the impact, or at least it was unlike the scorched earth around it. Alex approached it with curiosity, and as he reached it he could feel a certain pulse of energy that managed to stop him in his tracks. Static coursed through his veins now. It paralyzed him not only with its strength, but also with fear. There was nothing in this world that could create that unless it was an elemental Cantori, and those could only be found in the royal library in Nevaeh’s castle.
Overcoming the sense of doom that pumped in his heart, he neared the patch of dirt and, ignoring the pulsating power of the static in his blood, he dug. When he reached a soft, parchment-like paper, he was almost scared of what he would find. What if it was an elemental Cantori? He would be blamed for all sorts of crimes- breaking into the library, carrying a high-level Cantori without a license, investigating an unsafe site and putting the life of his friend Slone in danger. The possibilities were limitless. What if he was rewarded for the discovery of such a thing at the site of a meteor crash?
Why would there be a Cantori there anyway? He pulled at the paper and inspected it, a tingling feeling at the tip of his fingers. There was a single insignia which he could not read. He was not well-enough versed in the art of the Cantori to read many anyway. He quickly rolled it up and put it in his back pocket, the feeling of the Cantori looming at his backside.
Alex jogged his way to the side of the crater with the rope- still no sign of Slone. He tried shouting at him, but Slone gave no response. Alex uttered a curse and tied the rope so he was sure he wouldn’t kill himself if he fell. Too bad Slone wasn’t there to help pull him up to the surface, but it was all the same to Alex. He climbed the crater with ease.
On his way up, Alex couldn’t help but think about Slone’s “bad feeling”. He hoped and prayed that that wasn’t the reason for his disappearance. Of course, Slone could have just gone back to the village. He had seemed anxious enough, and he has been known to leave whenever he fancied it. Of course, the Cantori Alex had used to summon the rope could have alerted something nearby… There were other things besides Tamers that could sense the roar of a Cantori, and they weren’t exactly human. But they were so close to the village, it’s impossible for one of those things to be nearby and not cause havoc and destruction.
Alex chuckled. As he reached the top, the first thing he saw was Slone’s head on the ground and the red liquid that flowed from his forehead. Shutting everything else out, Alex scrambled to the grass-covered ground and knelt beside Slone. He was still breathing, although only slightly. His eyes were blank, which was not a good sign. He was unconscious. From immediately behind him, Alex felt a slight rush of wind that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He immediately wheeled around, but it was too late for him.
As soon as he stopped his turn, half-turned, he faced a hand. It wasn’t a substantial hand, because he could see right through it, the beautiful mirage of a woman evanescent. The hand threatened with the same sensation the Cantori he had stored in his back pocket contained. A slight spark of electricity radiated from her disappearing body every few seconds like a starry night.
“Who are you?” the woman said. Her voice, unlike the rest of her body, was solid. “Who are you?”
Alex struggled to speak. “A-Alex.”
“Why are you here?”
Alex looked back at Slone. He had to get him to a doctor, something. “I just wanted to come see what was here.” Alex inched back toward Slone. If need be, he could pick him up and run back to the village, where it was safe.
“That’s not a good answer,” the figure said. “What do you have in your back pocket?”
Alex turned, and with a massive surge of will he picked Slone up from the ground and started running as fast as he could. At a time like this, it was good that his size was twice than Slone’s. However, he could feel the wraith behind him following.
“What do you want?!” Alex called back, tiring. “I haven’t done anything wrong!” He tripped. Falling on the ground, Alex squirmed at a sharp pain in his ankle. He shot a quick glance, but decided he wouldn’t when he realized he had twisted his foot almost forty five degrees.
The figure was floating above him now, it had caught up. Its face was up to his, and he froze. What could he do now? A broken ankle and an unconscious friend were hardly assets.
“You’re interesting,” the figure said. “You’ll do.” With a bright flash of light, Alex felt as if his heart was gripped tightly. His eyesight went black, and the hold on his heart became stronger. It was a physical pain which took him then, one which made him forget his ankle and every other part of his body. He felt his heart explode, and he remembered death.

Prologue

The engraved double-doors slammed shut as the convict was ushered within the lavish court room, shackles and chains dangling from her hands. The audience stood, as witnesses, and the judges sat, as indignant gods. The gavel was pounded, and the judgment began.
“Now brought upon is the case of Hound vs. The Kingdom of Lumière.”
One of the three judges, a woman with scraggly red hair that wired outward away from her head, leaned over to the one in the middle, the Head Judge, whose hair was losing tint and so appeared gray, and whispered in his ear. “I had heard the prosecuted was beautiful, but I didn’t imagine her quite this beautiful.”
“I must say,” said the other judge on the right, “I am quite surprised too.” The middle one said nothing.
“Asher, I know you of all people,” the woman judge said, “would declare her innocent because of her… traits.”
“Oh, calm down, Olive,” Asher said, leaning back in his chair and stroking back the pitch-black bangs from the front of his face. “If anything, I’d convict her. Beauty that immense should be illegal everywhere.”
“Oh, please,” Olive chuckled. “I don’t forget, much less that one time when you finally convinced me to join you in one of your infamous escapades.”
The Head Judge cleared his throat, and his bored, scratched voice interrupted the conversation. “Please take note,” he said slowly and tiredly, “that we are here to pass on righteous judgment as ordained by our king.”
“Can’t forget that,” said Asher, as the accused reached her podium. The judge stood. “Victoria Hound. What is your plea?”
“My plea?!” she yelled out. “What’s that matter now, huh?! Tell me!” She flipped her long blonde hair to the side.
“You had many opportunities, many witnesses, and still you insist that you did the right thing here?” Asher smiled. “Need I remind you of our prime witness?”
“Fuck him! He’s a pig!” Victoria was pushed to the ground by one of the guards, a sign she took to heart as she stood.
“May I remind you, Ms. Hound: we do not allow for insults here in our courtroom.”
“This whole case is an insult,” Victoria muttered, and stood defiantly before the panel of judges, her feet firmly planted on the ground, staring up at the figures of conspicuous and superfluous power. “I plead not guilty.” There was a mutter throughout the court room. “But that really doesn’t matter, does it?”
“Innocent until we say so, Ms. Hound,” Asher said, and with that, he sat.
“Of course, I wouldn’t doubt it,” Victoria said. “Bunch of old-age hypocrites.”
“That is enough!” Olive stood with fervent amounts of terror and fright in her eyes. “You dare oppose us?!”
“It’s not just me, you stupid hag!” Victoria laughed. “It’s the whole kingdom! Even your figurehead king is funding the rebellions!”
“You simpleton!”
“That’s your response to everything!”
The old Head Judge’s voice rumbled in the court room. “Order!” Then, it returned to its normal, tired pace. “What do you mean by this, Ms. Hound? This information had not been delivered to us.”
“It means exactly as you hear it.” Victoria turned around, addressing the whole courtroom. “You heard it! This kingdom will fall, and all of its snot-nosed bureaucrats and aristocrats with it!”
“How nice of her,” Asher leaned to the Head Judge. “What do you think about this, Alabaster?”
“It’s no need to worry.” Alabaster coughed and proceeded. “Your sentence, Ms. Hound, will be read by Master Asher. Master Asher, please rise.”
With a smug smile on his face, Asher stood and was surprised that his raw show of power, his gaze, was ignored by Victoria’s awesome demeanor. He sheathed his dagger eyes.
“Victoria Hound.”
“What?!” She yelled, and she was pushed to the ground again.
“Thank you, guards,” Asher cleared his throat. “Victoria Hound.”
“You never get bored of saying it, do you?” Victoria demanded from the floor. The guard to her right reached down, pulled her up by the hair, and placed his hand on her mouth.
“Victoria Hound- the name does embitter the tongue, doesn’t it- you have been found… guilty- guilty, guilty, guilty on two accounts of high treason against the crown and… insolence.” Asher’s robe seemed to remain static as he did a little dance on his toes. He sat.
High Judge Alabaster pounded his gavel and again, with his tired old voice, damned the convict. “You have heard the verdict and the judgment.”
“Much good that did!” Victoria argued through the guard’s hand.
“Death for high treason!” Alabaster pounded the gavel again.
As the guards escorted Victoria Hound to the door of the court room, the eyes of the witnesses followed her until she stopped suddenly and turned to her left. A young man with black hair stood taller than her, and without even gracing her with the respect of looking at her, spoke. “You had options.”
“Don’t talk to me,” she spit at his feet. The guards did not notice. Time had stopped.
“Dear sister,” the young man said, immobile, “you insult me because of your choice?”
“What choice?” she asked. “Bow to a rotting government or want better for my people? Why should I stoop below a statue of a god that doesn’t exist?”
At this, the young man turned his head. A tattoo on his forehead was made apparent by the small beam of light that penetrated from the miniscule window above him on the roof. “How do you know that?”
“He-”
“No,” the young man interrupted. “Think.” He articulated the following words. “How do you know?” There was a long silence, and the young man turned his head once again toward the front of the courtroom, concealing his tattoo. “We may not know if he lives yet, Victoria, but his forces are at play. It’s something we cannot ignore, especially us.”
“You want your power?” Victoria snarled. “Take it. I don’t want it.”
“You know that’s not up to me. Your powers have been taken away because you made a choice, Victoria. Now suffer the consequences.” With a snap of the young man’s finger, time slowed to a start, and Victoria continued walking toward the doors.
“Ghrey,” she yelled out, kicking and protesting futilely, “you traitor!”
The double-doors slammed, and Olivia and Asher looked at each other with confusion. “Ghrey?” Asher said.
“She’s delirious.” High Judge Alabaster stood and walked off behind the curtain that draped over the posterior portion of the courtroom, his two lower judges bickering as they followed behind him.