Chapter 1: We Begin at the End
Every lifetime, there comes a time when a powerful ruler must die. It was the era of Lord Vadley on the new year’s eve of 2007. It was eleven o’ clock at night in the city of Khaberence on the planet of Zansia. Khaberence was the capital of Zansia where Lord Vadley resided. Vadley had fainted at a press conference at the capital station. He now lay dying in a hospital bed in Khaberence.
Lord Vadley had ruled Zansia since he was 16, now nearing 70 years of ruling, he was two times the ruler he was when he started. Some people adored him for the charisma and intellect he used in everyday ruling. He was applauded for heroism and bravery in which he used his powers. However, recently a new leaf had begun to turn.
Several younger Zansian leaders had been conspiring and corrupting Vadley’s government for five years now. Vadley had done a good job suppressing the young politicians for some time now, but lately his old age had made his powers weak and his body tired. The Zansian leaders had noticed and started ganging up and wearing down his youthful advisor, Jordashe Prack.
Jordashe, a 25 year old brown haired, blue-eyed man had always wanted to work for Vadley. His dad had worked for Vadley before Jordashe did, and every day Jordashe asked his father when he’d be old enough to be an advisor to Vadley.
“Someday, sport. Someday you can have my job,” his father always replied, ruffling Jordashe’s hair. It was all too true.
Jordashe took over at the age of 18 after his father was assassinated right before his eyes at a charity event by an extremist from the younger group of Zansian leaders. Unknown to Jordashe, from that moment forward, Lord Vadley hoped he could be like a father to him, helping Jordashe until his death.
Jordashe now helplessly watched his master and second father die with the most extreme melancholy and terror. What would happen to the well-being of Zansia? Even though he usually remained emotionless, Jordashe shed many tears now for the planet and his seconds from death master. He also knew that if he became Lord Prack, he would probably be assassinated by the young politicians within months of taking the chair. The future was bleak for the young advisor who had just married a beautiful girl, Calista, and was about to start a family. While he pondered his options, he heard Vadley stir.
“Jordashe, please listen to me. Is there anyone around?” Vadley was barely getting the words past his lips.
“No, Lord Vadley, we’re the only ones here.” Jordashe replied holding back sobs so that his master wouldn’t think he was weak.
“Please just call me by my first name, I don’t have much time,” Lord Vadley was extremely weak and his heart rate was dropping by the minute.
“Ok, Martus, what can I do for you?” Jordashe’s last words were cracking with sobs as Vadley looked at him through his old green eyes. So much for being strong.
“Jordashe, you will not be the ruler of Zansia. I’ve been hiding it for months now that Zansia will fall to the young Zansian politicians,” he started.
“Well, I must admit to you Martus, that’s actually a relief. I didn’t want to be assassinated. But-then what am I supposed to do?”
“As soon as I die, a feed will be aired within ten minutes. It will buy you about an hour to get away while the feed makes its way to the politicians. You must run home and get your wife quickly before anyone who you don’t trust can find you. Get your wife and get to dockwharf five as fast as you can. Bruce Mackley and his wife will be chauffeuring you to Earth before they go to Tiresta. Under the protection and shielding of my powers, both of you will look like human beings and fit into the culture that is Earth.
“Once there, you will have to find the heirs. There are three of them, all live in the same rural community in Wisconsin which is in the United States. Once you find them, you must aid them on their journey to greatness, as you have aided me, young Mr. Prack. If you choose not to heed what I tell you, you will perish in the overthrow of Zansia, and there will be no chance of restoring it, now will there?”
“So that’s what the heirs are to do? Help us restore peace to Zansia?” Jordashe was bewildered, but attentive to everything Martus had said.
“Exactly, I always knew you were a smart one. Here,” he said pulling three small metal tubes out of his pocket. “The names of the heirs are on the bottom of each laser. You will know it’s them when you hand it to them. The color of their eyes will change to match the laser color. You better get going now. Good luck and Jordashe?” The buzzers were starting to alert doctors and nurses.
“What?”
His voice was barely audible any more, “Happy new year.” He slowly closed his eyes as the heart monitor hit zero.
As he ducked around doctors and nurses, Jordashe checked his watch. It was precisely New Year’s Day when he heard a doctor announce Vadley’s time of death. He swore as he ran out of the hospital and made a mad dash to his neighborhood, Khaberence Springs, where his wife eagerly awaited his return. It had only been about five minutes since the great ruler’s death.
Upon answering the door, Calista knew something was wrong by how Jordashe looked at her, not to mention the tear streaks down his face. “What’s wrong, honey?” She asked, looking at her husband through her grey eyes.
“Martus is dead, Calista. We have to get out of here right now, before the feed goes out and the overthrow happens. Get the emergency bags we packed,” Jordashe ran into the other room to grab his briefcase and a few other things he’d need for the weeklong journey.
“Honey, what about-“she looked like she’d been hit with a bomb.
“Unless you would like to perish in the overthrow and perhaps never give Zansia a chance to thrive again, I suggest we get out of here, now. We have about twenty minutes to get off of Zansia, and I’m not wasting a second,” Jordashe turned to the portal and stepped inside. He glanced at his wife, noticing that she was now twisting her red hair around her finger; a sign of nervousness.
“Dockwharf five!” Calista screamed, and the next thing they knew they were in Martus’ now-old hangar.
Martus had always had an array of the best space vehicles available, and the best pilots, too. Therefore, Jordashe wasn’t surprised Martus chose Bruce to take them to Earth. When he stepped off the portal, Bruce was standing in the doorway of the MachFinity looking high and mighty. Jordashe had to admit, with the blonde buzz cut and the blue eyes, he always did look like a big shot. His also big shot looking wife, Ellis, stood beside him.
“Well, if it isn’t Calista and Jordashe, the cutest couple from Acenam Academy! How are ya? Oh, don’t answer that yet. Let’s get off Zansia first.” He walked inside and revved the engine, blue flames spurting out the back of the MachFinity.
“All aboard!!” shouted Ellis. They closed the hatch and took off, just as they heard the feed coming from an old television in the hangar.
The next thing the two couples knew, they were flying along the outer atmosphere of Zansia. It looked like it was almost at peace, but all four knew better. On the ground things couldn’t have been going worse. As soon as the feed sent to all the houses in Khaberence, it was a ripple effect. It took less than the predicted hour, nearing all of Zansia in around forty five minutes. The last person who received it was one of the new age politicians, Martin Alve.
Martin Alve was a dark, cold man with blue eyes that looked like they could razor-cut a rock in half. His teeth were even scarier: sharp, pointed, and cruel. His ideals were as cold as his image, with zero tolerance for the way Vadley had ruled. It was he who had killed Jordashe’s father just six years before. And now he was going to bring down Zansia and rule forever. It sounds impossible, but Martin knew how. The downfall of Zansia lay with him.
Martin Alve was having a dinner party with his council when one of his butlers walked in with a mournful look on his face. Bending down close to Martin’s ear, the butler whispered the news quietly. But Martin made it public.
“Attention my council members, we have now entered the new era. Vadley is dead and that Prack kid and his wife have vanished without a trace. I can now conclude we will take office tomorrow. We are now approaching our finest hour, gentlemen. We’ll take down Zansia like we took down that piece of crap Nolan Prack six years ago! Who’s with me?!”
The crowd of twenty NewEra council members gave a hearty shout of approval. Over the next few months, the citizens of Zansia would experience anguish beyond the memory of their greatest ancestors. The NewEra-Alve Council would plunge Zansians into their darkest years.
Chapter 2: Enter Daniel, Eisel, and Ben
It was now January 3rd in Howard Glen, Wisconsin. Howard Glen was a small town that had Howard Elementary School and Central High School, exclusive schools for only the town residents’ children to go to. Both Howard Elementary and Glen central sat on the southern side of the city. Glen Central was a brand-new school where all the classrooms had windows, tile, and air conditioning. It also boasted the most advanced, yet easy to use security system in all of Wisconsin’s schools.
This morning we enter Glen Central High School into a classroom where Daniel sat staring out at the snow-covered landscape in his English class. Daniel was an average student at Glen Central. He was about five eleven and played at least two sports. He had shorter brown hair and brown eyes, which you could hardly see because of the glare off his glasses. He played two different instruments and liked to write, a lot. He didn’t like to worry, but today, he felt different.
Today, his English teacher, Mrs. Halern, was droning on and on about some stupid book that Daniel hadn’t bothered to read the night before. Now he turned back to face the whiteboard and wrote down the notes; he’d need all the notes he could get. He found it hard to focus on what Mrs. Halern was saying, but who could when they’d just discovered there was something wrong with them.
The night before, Daniel had been sitting in Marching Band wondering why Alex, the other tuba next to him, couldn’t take a hint. Shut up already Daniel thought. He was starting to tell that other kids were thinking the same thing. Daniel decided not to say anything, but instead pictured dropping a drumstick straight down onto his head. The next thing Daniel knew, a drumstick had flown out of Kaylie, the drum director’s left hand and hit Alex on the back of the head. Daniel rubbed his eyes. Did that actually happen?
He got his reply, “Hey, how did that come out of my hand?!” Kaylie shouted.
“I don’t know, but it hit Alex. Daniel probably did it,” came Ryan Pike’s reply.
Daniel decided to make a stand for himself, but quickly shut up when he saw Eisel Syder staring at him.
Eisel was a freshman, but she sure didn’t seem like it. From her blue-green eyes to her shoulder length light brown hair, Eisel was usually calm about most things, but right now she looked more questioning than awestruck. Daniel had every intention of talking to her about this later because he had a feeling she saw the whole thing. He then looked over at Mr. Wilke.
“Daniel, what was that?” he asked. Mr. Wilke tried to look serious but had a gigantic smirk across his face. It was hard not to laugh since everyone, including Mr. Wilke had a hard time with Alex.
“I didn’t do it, I swear,” replied Daniel.
“No, actually, it just kind of happened,” Eisel chimed in. It was nice that Eisel would cover for him, but why?
“Let’s just get back to practice. We don’t have much time left, anyway,” Mr. Wilke walked back to his stand.
Daniel couldn’t figure it out. Why had the drumstick moved? No one touched it and Kaylie hadn’t moved a muscle. As much as he could have blamed her, he didn’t.
“Daniel! Are you paying attention?” Mrs. Halern brought him back to earth. “Did you even read last night?”
“I’m sorry I have to say no. Sorry, Mrs. Halern, I didn’t read Great Expectations,” Daniel muttered quietly.
“Then I guess you’ll read it in detention. I’m sorry I have to do this, Daniel, but I need to know you’re reading,” she glared at Daniel, who was usually a really on task student. But she knew she had to treat Daniel like every other kid in the class, regardless.
Eisel
While Daniel sat in English, Eisel was on the total other end of the spectrum, Spanish one. Spanish was not her favorite class. Unlike her fellow classmates, Eisel had the desire to learn, she wasn’t just there because it was a board policy. She felt that she was the only one who felt that way and she felt bad for Mr. Vance. She did usually pay attention, but today she sat staring off into space, feeling better about herself. A sigh of relief escaped from her as she wrote down her board work.
When the clock had struck midnight on January 1st, Eisel felt a strange sensation go through her. When she jumped off the couch, her arms outstretched, she sent someone’s soda and a whole jar of salsa careening off the table and onto the floor. Everyone looked at her.
“Eisel, how in god’s name did you manage that?” asked her dad.
“I really honestly don’t know. I never even bumped the coffee table, dad,” she quickly said as her father lost patience.
“You know what, I don’t care just wipe it up before the floor gets sticky,” Eisel’s dad sounded really astonished that Eisel could have done it, but no one else was anywhere near the table.
Eisel ran into the kitchen at a frantic pace. She tried to find the paper towel, but she was too frazzled. I really need to find that paper towel right now, she thought. All of a sudden, she saw a roll come out of the cabinet and crash into her head.
“Wow. I’m not going to pretend that wasn’t strange,” she was talking to herself, a definite sign of disbelief.
She then walked back in the living room and picked up “her” mess, then went to her room. Eisel could still hear everyone, as her room was above the sunroom. Unlike Daniel’s reaction, Eisel tested her theory. She set her iPod across the room, then she thought about it, and it came like magic right to her hand this time, instead of her head. Then she set her pillow on the foot of the bed and pointed at it. The pillow jumped from the spot and hurdled at the wall. Wide-eyed with wonder, Eisel knew there was no way she was telling anyone, that is until she saw Daniel.
Eisel knew right away that Daniel had no idea what was going on. She sat there in complete awe that someone in the same school as her could suddenly have this problem, too. She knew it had just happened because of the shocked expression that came over his face after the drumstick had bounced off Alex’s head. She knew he hadn’t meant to do it. Hopefully she hadn’t judged this wrong. She was going to tell Daniel today at lunch.
Ben
Ben, aka Mr. Wilke, was extremely surprised at both Eisel and Daniel’s reactions to the whole Alex and the drumstick incident. Ben thought it was rather funny for the most part, but being a teacher, he couldn’t let them get away with it, so the next day, which was a Friday, he called both of them into his office after their lunch hour.
“Ok, I just need to know, which one of you was it?” Ben inquired looking at both Eisel and Daniel.
“Um, I don’t think it was either of us. It just kind of happened,” said Eisel. “But I have noticed that the exact same thing happened to me a few days ago, except it involved soda.”
Daniel laughed and then admitted, “I think it was me. I was so mad at him yesterday, I just kept thinking of slapping him with a drumstick, and then it happened.”
“And you expect me to believe that?” contrary to other teachers, Mr. Wilke never raised his voice when he asked them.
“Yeah, I guess so. I mean I saw the whole thing, how can it have been Daniel?” Eisel was reeling now. How would Mr. Wilke believe her or Daniel for that matter?
“And I do believe you for some reason. What’s puzzling is I can’t explain why,” Mr. Wilke found it felt like his conscience was telling him that what the pair were telling him was correct.
Just then the bell rang, and Mr. Wilke excused Eisel and Daniel to their classes. He then sat back down, took of his glasses, and began to think. Why did he believe them? It seemed like that was singlehandedly the worst explanation he’d ever heard. But something was telling him it was correct. Maybe it was what had happened to him.
After New Year’s Day, he’d been cleaning up from the gigantic blizzard that occurred after 12:00. Now shoveling snow in front of his house, he wished he could be done. It was still early in the day, when many people were still recovering from their parties, but Ben was knee-deep in snow.
Ben could feel the frustration mounting with every push, scoop, and throw of the shovel. He stopped for a second to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He stared at the sidewalk angrily as he realized how badly his back hurt. He swore when he saw that he still had over half of the walkway and the driveway. Looking at the street, he pointed to the ground.
“You’re the enemy here,” he stated jokingly.
All of a sudden, a crack appeared down the middle of the snow in the middle of the walkway. Unsure what to do next, Ben swept his hand back and the snow parted down the middle. He didn’t know quite how he’d done it, but it was cool. He then “finished” the driveway and turned to walk into his house. Just then his neighbor whom he hated walked out of his house, going to get his paper. Ben raised his hand and propelled snow over the top of his hated neighbor. Ben then snickered as he walked into his house, listening to his neighbor shout profanities that woke the entire neighborhood.
He didn’t understand the powers but he knew they were great. Putting his glasses back on, Ben looked around the small office he had to himself, expertly decorated by his marching band students. Creative bunch, that’s what they were. The powers were remarkable, yes. He didn’t know, however, just how remarkable they would become, or how important they would be to an entire nation, until that night.
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