Young Writers Society

Hi, if you've seen plot overview in the writer's corner, you probably know the basic gist of this. If not, you can always feel free to read it Here:

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/viewtopic.php?f=124&t=92206.

Anywho, the prologue for Keychain Magic is finally here! Please do your best to suggest improvements kindly, as I am a new writer. However, do suggest many, for I aim to improve this prologue A LOT, and use lots of writing skills. Try to dig beyond the surface. Thank you!

Keychain Magic
By Catrina Auralie Randle

Prologue


Rodsha rode on his dragon, Edelline, to the cloudy kingdom of Sparth which floated in the pale lavender sky, home to the gods of Astricka. It was the fifth moonpassing, the time of requests. Every year, during this time, sorcerers and sorceresses would send their prayers and desires to the seven Gods of Astricka- and the lucky ones would get their wishes granted. Rodsha, however, wanted to make his request as up close and personal as possible.

He stood before the great ornate gates, darkly clad, with desire in his eyes. He had been waiting for this opportunity for a long time.

“I call upon the Great Irvan Boltore,” he announced.

And there in front of the gates, Irvan appeared, a bolt of lightning shooting through the sky, which flashed deep violet before him.

“State your name and purpose,” Irvan’s voice echoed from the gates. He was young in appearance, and had dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes, a strong man that appeared in his mid twenties, but he was a divine being, and as one of the Gods, he never aged.

Irvan Boltore was the most powerful of the seven Gods, but he wasn’t the highest in rank. All the Gods were equal, and often they quarreled, but that was why they had the Great Arena, where they would settle their quarrels through a system of divine tasks and battles. Although they were divine beings, they were created by the one power- a divine energy that set them up to watch over Astricka.

Rodsha replied to Irvan’s demand.

“My name is Rodsha, and I am here to give you my request, for it is the fifth moonpassing of the year.

“You may proceed.”

“I would like the souls from the creatures of Archellon so I can make the creatures my slaves,” Rodsha began. The creatures of Archellon were a group of mermaids, nymphs, centaurs, and humatriacs, or evolved human supernaturalites, that lived by the Sea of Cressantris- the sea surrounding the land of Astricka. This was the sea where human magic wielders would extract magical sea salt that the Gods had blessed. The salt, when rubbed between the hands of a magic user, would exfoliate the the skin and stimulate the nerves of magic in the human body for approximately three days. These nerves, when stimulated, gave humans the energy they needed to perform spells. When the salt’s power wore off, the nerves would return to their average subtlety and dullness, which left no more power. In humatriacs, however, the nerves were already stimulated, but they were immune to the salt. They had only selected supernatural abilities, and no more. But Rodsha wanted all the creatures as slaves because he wanted the sea salt from Cressantris all for himself, and it was clear to Irvan that this was the case.

Irvan scowled at Rodsha’s selfish request.

“No good creature would request such a thing,” Irvan snapped, a lightning bolt shooting through what was now a deep violet sky.

“I refuse to grant you this wish.”

“I refuse to leave until you grant it!” Rodsha shouted.

“Foolish creature!” Irvan yelled, as he conjured a ball of lightning in his hands. It’s electricity could be felt all the way from the cloud that Rodsha was standing on, as Irvan was far away.

“I declare a duel in the Great Arena!” Rodsha foolishly yelled. He knew that no ungodly creature was allowed in the Arena of the Gods, but he hoped he could get Irvan to do so anyway by angering him.

“For doing so, Rodsha, I must punish you. The Great Arena was meant only for the divine, and you know that. You are forever banished from Astricka to the realm of Ignasis, and you may not have your request. Your body and spirit shall be disfigured, and you shall be unable to request anything from the Gods during the fifth moonpassing.”

And with that, he struck Rodsha with the lightning ball, which sent him flying off of the cloud before Sparth and into the realm of Ignasis where he was punished, leaving Edelline to release a loud shriek of terror before she flew away, abandoning her master and returning to the Simbaerian Glades where she had come from.

Just then, Irvan Boltore received a message from a great wizard named Milo who was truly pure at heart.

“This is my prayer, O seven Gods. In my adventures through the universe as a sorceror, I have stumbled upon a beautiful world called Lumasis.”

“The creatures there were created by some great power that was not our own, and they are the purest, most divine creatures I have ever met. They are abundant in magic and very gentle.”

“Amazingly kind, they are weak and believe that there is a Chosen One out there who will some day rule over them. Without their Chosen One, they claim they will die. They are searching for a leader, and I know there is a creature out there who is pure enough to watch over their world. A creature with a purely good heart, which I suppose is lighter than a grain of salt from the sea of Cressantris.”

“I wish to pass this great knowledge to you before I die, and I wish for you to activate the prophecy I have written, and create a way for the Chosen One to access Lumasis once such a creature is found. I have created a quest for the Chosen One to go on, so they can prove themselves worthy of ruling over the world. Please allow this quest to be made real. As I am old and near death, I wish for you to grant me this request before my life comes to an end.”

“I shall send you the written Prophecy and the quest I have designed for the Chosen One to prove themselves worthy through a portal. Please accept my prayer.”

With that, a scroll materialized before Irvan. It was marked:

For the Seven Gods of Astricka; A Wish

Two Years Later...

“Who is that man?” Orna whispered to Cedrick.

“I’m not quite sure.”

They peered over at the darkly clad, disfigured man, who was hunched over, narrow boned, and shadowy eyed. His gray skin was a complete contrast to the humatriac’s soft golden skin, but he seemed threatening as he stood there, watching them silently, a deep guilt and vengence booming within him.

They were on the coast of Archellon, on the sandy shore by the sea of Cressantris. Irvan was extracting sea salt for his new job in the Sorceror’s Guild. He was the magic salt collector and packager, and his job was to extract the magical sea salt and pour it neatly into boxes that would be shipped to magic shops.

Orna held their baby, Serafina, gently in her arms. They watched the odd man in the distance, as he walked out by the sea, pacing by the huts that had been made by the tribal humatriacs, much like the islanders that lived on the chain of Islands in Cressantris called the Islands of Ophracia. They were known for their lovely artisan crafts and their many tribal designs, as well as for the markings they’d draw on their bodies from the glowing blue dust from precious sea stones along the shore of Cressantris.

The man entered one of the huts, and Orna became worried.

“Take Serafina,” she said, gently placing her baby in Cedrick’s arms. He took Serafina with a concerned expression.

“I’m going over there,” Orna said dutifully.

“Be careful, Orna,” Cedrick warned quickly. He quickly changed his mind, catching her shoulder. “Perhaps I should go instead.”

Orna agreed, taking Serafina, who was two years old, and sitting down with her on the shore, beside small packaged boxes of sea salt.

Cedrick crept into the forest lining the coast of Archellon, peering out from behind the tall trees with dark brown bark and flat emerald leaves, overlooking the shore. He felt unarmed, as if he needed a weapon for protection. He watched as the odd, disfigured man left the hut, nearly catching a glimpse of his Cedrick’s face, which left Cedrick with a prickled feeling in his neck that began to feel painful.

Cedrick got down flatly on his stomach, and crawled with his knees and arms back to the shore where he saw Orna sitting with Serafina. Running up to them, he placed his hand on Orna’s shoulder, and whispered to her.

“It’s not safe,” Cedrick said with caution. “The man is powerful, and he’s up to no good.”

Orna looked at him, at his neck.

“Cedrick…” she whispered, in awe.

“What is it?”

She touched his neck, and whispered back, “there’s a black mark on your neck. What happened?”

The skin was as black as night, and soft. It as if the black mark on his neck was devouring him, although it wasn’t spreading. It was simply in one spot, eating away at that area, absorbing its power.

“I don’t know,” Cedrick said, “the man just passed by me, and without even looking at me, I felt a prickling sensation. I need protection. We should go back to the house so I can get something to defend us.”

“Are you sure? How much time do we have left before you have to deliver the salt to the Sorceror’s Guild?”

“We’ve got time. Don’t worry. This is important. Orna…”

“What is it?”

“Keep Serafina safe.”

***end of the prologue

Ok, guys! Do your thing! Let me know what you think and please offer suggestions. Don't hold back... Meanwhile I'm working on Chapter One. Thanks!