Cole's Legacy --- Chapter 2

Hey guys! It may be difficult to believe, but this chapter actually corresponds with chapter one! No more prologues, just good old-fashioned order. Also, if you want more info on this story world, check the long post on my page. Enjoy!

The grouping of thin wood structures resided in perhaps the least woodsy area of the forest planet, but even then it was surrounded by trees. Cole never liked the view; to him it felt like he was trapped or isolated by the wall of plants; suggesting there was nothing more for him in life. Cole always had to snap himself out of these thoughts by being social, so he decided to visit an old friend.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As Cole entered the wooden room, Alfred beckoned for him to come closer. The old man was, as usual, tinkering with some mechanical parts.

“I have some incredible news regarding the machine I’ve been working with.”

Cole stepped forward, confused. “What is it?”

“I’ve discovered that these parts have been salvaged long ago from the destroyed regions of Denakim!” His excited expression while looking at Cole’s face implied that this was supposed to surprise or astonish him.

“And… that means… what, exactly?” Cole replied awkwardly.

Alfred exposed a wide, semi-toothless grin. “It means, this is Dimension Creator technology!”

The man rose from his seat and began shuffling around the room, as the obnoxious floorboards rattled. His arms moved quickly when he reached one of the shelves, reflecting his playful, rallied-up state. He fingered through his collection of various books and other documents, which were mostly composed of paper with the occasional portable electronic-database unit. Some items Alfred literally threw behind him in Cole’s direction, as he searched for the desired object.

“No, that’s not it… No.. no.. Definitely not.. no.. Ha! A dragonborn skull! Not what I’m looking for, but completely forgot I had this!”

“Um…” was all Cole could manage as he caught the cracked skull tossed in his direction. “What are you looking for?”

“This!” Alfred replied, after a pause, triumphantly holding up a faded parchment in his hands. From what Cole could make of it, it was either some kind of sketchy artwork or a page from a storybook. It bore the image of a plainly-drawn person, seemingly levitating in the air with his or her arms extended on both sides. Wavy lines flowed from both hands, seeming to represent some kind of energy or power, which expanded near the edges of the paper to form familiar shapes: a tree, a lake, and some patches of grass. Bright colors illuminated the scene.

Alfred, still grinning, said, “This is just one depiction of a Dimension Creator. This ancient race held such unimaginable power, harnessing and tinkering with energies far beyond our comprehension! And to think that I have the privilege to work with technology from their own origin!”

Cole chuckled, rolling his eyes. Even after four years, he still couldn’t get used to Alfred’s way of speaking and extreme fascination of lost worlds. The old man would likely worship a blade of grass if he was told that it came from an extinct race.

Then he remembered the reason he came to see the man. “I think that I saw a Baoiki earlier.”

Alfred, not even looking up, said, “Erm? Uh.. Yes.. Probably.”

Cole shot him a confused glance. “You’re not even surprised?”

“No, not really. I mean this is their planet after all.”

“But… we haven’t even seen one before! Don’t you all think they are extinct?”

Alfred finally stood up and approached him. “Not necessarily. You’ve heard the stories. They are known for their stealth; I guess they're just hiding somewhere.”

Cole could not believe he got this mellow of a response. “Really? Wouldn’t we have at least spotted one before? Name the last time we saw even a trace of Baoiki.”

“Steven.”

“What?!!”

Alfred grinned. “You asked me to provide a name for the last instance we saw a Baoiki. I decided to name it Steven.”

Cole, rolling his eyes again, gave up and walked away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cole could not sleep that night. Thoughts swirled around his head as they often did, creating a storm of worries, fears, and anxieties, as well as interpretations, general knowledge, and imagination. Cole sometimes feared that he had too much of an imagination, as he could clearly picture a violent hurricane composed of thoughts, tormenting his mind. This was a common problem for him when he was alone; becoming overwhelmed with thoughts when there was nothing to directly focus upon. That was the main issue with Cole… he had to be occupied doing something or else he was in danger of his own mind.

He stretched his arm to the side of his bed, then clutched the hilt of his blade. His thoughts began clearing. At first it he had doubt about it, a superstition, but now it is confirmed: touching part of the sword somehow improved his obsessive thoughts. Once he fully lifted the blade from the table by his bed, he could perfectly imagine himself, sword in hand, standing at the center of the twister, the manifestation of his distress. In his head, he held his blade up high. Feeling renewed and strong willed against the thoughts, the storm separated and faded. His mind became calm.

Just then, someone entered his room where he slept. Living in the woods, there were only a few huts in the settlement, meaning there were about eight possibilities of who was in his room. The figure slowly and silently approached the bed. It leaned in and began to whisper in Cole’s ear. He recognized Alfred’s raspy voice immediately.

“Do not be startled. Don’t even make a sound, just listen. I think we are under attack.”

Cole could already feel the clouds in his mind reforming, but he was forced to push them aside and sat up, completely unsheathing his sword. Now he had something to focus on. Good.