Melody and Harmony: Page 16

Foster nodded. "It's like a prayer. Or a Talisman would probably be more accurate, I guess." He shrugged. "What ever you want to call it, it's a way of staying in the good graces of the god of wind."

Aaron nodded. They came to a worn and dented, long faded brown outer airlock door. Aaron knocked four times in an odd broken pattern. "And whats the Pirate Queen's story?" He asked as the door slowly opened.

Foster followed Aaron into the airlock. "It's one of the oldest pirate rock songs. Talking about how we're sailors without a sea, and now a kingdom without a ruler. Our pirate queen was so in love with sailing that she unfurled the sails of her soul and let the god of wind take her away from the only safe harbor any of us ever truly know." The Outer air lock door hissed closed and sealed itself.

Aaron nodded. "So she died and went to Heaven." He interpreted.

Foster shook his head. "Not exactly" He corrected with a smile as the inner air lock door opened. He had been expecting another dance club and was surprised instead to to find a very large and very welcoming apartment with a large open central area.

Aaron led him in to the main area and kicked off his shoes. Foster followed suit. "Welcome to our Hideout." He held his arms open. "Don't get any ideas, we're not rich or anything. I'd say ninety percent of this is either scrounged or stolen." He sloughed his jacket off and dumped it onto a nearby table before flopping into a large jet black bean bag chair. Once he was comfortable he loudly whistled a four note jingle that seemed to echo off the walls.

"Finally!" A girls voice replied from the second floor.

Aaron looked at Foster with a smile. "Make yourself at home and feel free to explain what 'not exactly' means." He gestured to a near by empty chair.

Spoonerville: Page 15

Rodney's walk was longer than he had anticipated. The fence around the football field had already been locked so he had to walk the long way around. It was just past three and the sun was hours from setting but the tree line was tall enough that he had been walking in shade for a while. The wind was picking up and he could hear it the trees, even his noise-canceling headphones couldn't block it out entirely.

It was obvious now that Derek knew how Rodney felt about his sister. He was apparently comfortable enough with the idea to give both of them shit about what appeared to be mutual interest.

He could feel the heat sinking out of his body through his feet and into the ground with each step he took.

It was embarrassing though. The way he made fun of them. It was entirely possible that he was only cracking jokes to hide his discomfort at the idea of his friend and his sister dating.

Rodney zipped up his hoodie and shoved his hands in the pockets.

If it were his sister, he'd be furious. He'd have no way of knowing if his best and only friend was hanging out with him just to spend time with her! And that kind of deception meant they weren't really friends! And if Rodney would kill the imaginary guy dating his imaginary sister then it was logical to assume that Derek was planning to kill him, and Rodney couldn't allow that.

Rodney was still in the shade of the tree line, and he had begun to veer toward it as he continued walking. The concept of killing Derek so he could be with Vivian consequence-free had ensnared him. He did a one-eighty and began to walk back in the direction he had come from, continuing to veer closer to the tree line.

He couldn't guarantee that killing Derek would go off without a hitch. There were several things to consider, the most pressing was that once he had successfully killed the jailor of his eternal love he would have to dispose of the body. But if Vivian truly loved him she would be an ally in solving the problem of the body and any others that came up along the way. Such was the power and dedication of true love.

He had doubled back again walking towards his grandmother's house. He was coming close to the edge of the tree line and about to pull another one-eighty when he tripped over his own two feet and fell past the shade of the treeline and into the warmth of the sun. He picked himself up and dusted himself off and could remember the absolute determination he had just felt to murder his best friend.

The chill of the shade returned, this time with him standing fully in the warmth of the sun and he knew without out a doubt that he had made two very important decisions.

The first was that he would never tell anyone what had just gone through his mind.

The second was that he would never, ever, walk the tree line again.

He turned back towards his grandmother's house and tried to remain calm, but found himself sprinting to her door before he could even think of walking.

Shades of Justice: Page 47

Kelly was a great swimmer. She was good at sprints but better at distance. She had absolutely shattered school records and been a dependable scorer since she was a freshman. The other girls called her a work horse, her coach called her “hey you!” or “The quiet one.” She was not a star player, never one of the favorites. She was in all ways, exceptionally invisible.

And she liked it that way.

She had only touched the pool once since becoming a Shade and it had been forty minutes of pure bliss. This time she told herself she didn’t even need to swim. She could just relax, float, and let her ear plugs join forces with the water and make her functionally deaf to the world.

She didn’t even notice she had started laps until she was in the middle of her third turn. STOP! a part of her brain demanded. You can’t run away from this! It warned. There is no lap number, no yardage that will give you enough distance to make a clean get away!

She swam until her arms and legs were screaming louder than her mind.

When she stopped she was almost eight thousand yards away from where she had started, but when she pulled her goggles off and her earplugs out she was still in the same pool, the same school, the same life, with the same problems.

Her arms were pillars of flaming jello but she still pulled herself up out of the water and onto the deck. She rolled over onto her back and let the rush of oxygen from her huge chest raising breaths artificially lighten her mood.

“Did you make it?” Gordon asked.

Kelly opened her eyes. Gordon was looking down at her. She sat up slowly. “Nope. I got seventy eight hundred yards in before I realized I was still here.” She sighed.

He sat next to her. “There are more efficient ways to escape.” He pointed out.

She nodded. “Escape from what? I can go anywhere I want, when ever I want.” She admitted.

He nodded. “But your still stuck inside your own head.” He admitted looking at the school record board on the far side of the pool.

She looked at him for a second. “Why are you here?” She asked.

He shrugged and then met her gaze. “If I have to be stuck in this prison.” He tapped his head. “The least I can do is get to know the people in the other cells.” He smiled.

They both went back to looking at the scoreboard.

The surface of the pool had long ago gone flat like glass before she realized they were holding hands.

Lidarion: Page 41

Obla'reth returned to the podium. He opened the book and continued to translate. "It is in the best interest of all races and the paragons for the paragon's to be left alone. But the titans were not stupid. There was no point to creating stewards of the world if the world could not call upon them when needed." He turned the page. "And so there were legends and songs placed in every society. Seeded into every generation."

Obla'reth looked up from the book. "You already know how to contact the paragons." He said.

Squints sighed. "I'm pretty sure I'd remember knowing how to summon the paragons." He said.

Obla'reth looked down at him. "Do you have a particular interest in nursery rhymes, and bed time stories?" He asked.

Squints opened his mouth and froze for a second.

Brooke jumped in. "Blessed is the king of the Earth, Sitting in the heart of the crown."

Squints shook his head. "There is no crown mountain or mountain range. It's just a song, it doesn't exist." He sighed again.

"Yes it did." Harruff spoke up for the first time in hours. "Names rarely live as long as the things they identify. Crown in the oldest Minotaur language roughly translates to Urune." He explained.

Squints shook his head "I thought Urune meant hat?" He asked.

Harruff shrugged "I did say 'roughly'" He replied.

"How does this help us?" Lisa asked.

Squint's eyes lit up. "Because before we referred to that range as the 'The cliff cities' it was the Urune mountain range." he said with a smile.

Trent looked skeptical. "Who thought that 'The hat mountains' was a good name?" He grumbled.

Squints sighed "I think your missing the point."

Melody and Harmony: Page 15

They waited until the other side of the door was silent as the grave, and when Aaron opened the door the sun had already risen over the wall that bordered the city. Foster squinted in the early morning light and felt the desire to be anywhere but where he was. "Thanks for not killing me," He paused as he realized that Aaron had saved him not once but twice. "And then helping me escape the cops. But my mom's probably lost her mind by now so I'm out." He turned to head back to his part of town. The sound of the gun stopped him cold.

"You haven't told me about your bag." Aaron reminded him.

Foster sighed heavily. "You didn't want to talk in the hideaway, I doubt you want to do it here in the alley, so" He turned back towards Aaron and gestured for them to go.

Aaron stuffed the gun in his pocket. "Look I just need to know what the symbol means." he said, leading Foster to a safer location.

Foster shrugged, explaining as they made their way in between buildings. "it's a reference to a lyric from an old Setting Sails song." He said as if that explained everything.

Aaron nodded. "And whats the lyric?" he asked.

Foster was getting antsy. " I am driven to traverse every sea without fail, for if I have breath in my lungs I'l have wind for my sail." He said with impatience.

Aaron was lost. "Why would she have that as a tattoo?" he muttered to himself.

Foster raised an eyebrow. "So you do know the song?" He asked.

Aaron shook his head. "Never heard it my life." he admitted.

Foster. "So then how'd you know about the pirate queen?" He asked. "She has the winds of all seasons tattooed on her shoulder."

Aaron opened a door and ushered Foster into a dimly lit hallway. "The winds of all seasons?" He asked.

Spoonerville: Page 14

The rest of Rodney's first day was fairly uneventful. Vivian had her TA period to close out the day while the boys had P.E. Neither Rodney or Derek were any good at basketball which left them little to be excited about for the next month.

The final bell rang and the parking lot flooded with kids. Rodney was on his way out of the gum when his phone buzzed. It was a text from his grandmother.

[Tuna noodle casserole for dinner tonight, so don't make any plans with your friends. During the school year Monday and Wednesday are family dinner night.]

[Sounds good to me.]

Derek appeared next to Rodney as he was sending off his reply. "Down for some GoldenEye tonight?" He asked.

Rodney shook his head. "I can tonight. Gran's imposing family dinner nights on Monday and Wednesday." He explained.

Derek nodded. "Sweet! That leaves us the 'Za days to hang out." He said with a smile.

"'Za days?" Rodney asked.

Derek nodded. "Yeah, Tue 'Za Day, and Thur 'Za Day" He laughed at his terrible joke.

Rodney shook his head. "See the problem is you're not even ashamed."

Derek shrugged as the exited the building. "Geniuses rarely are." He boasted with a puffed up chest.

The parking lot was beginning to empty out. Vivian was leaning against the driver side door of the Volvo playing with her phone. She pocketed it as the boys approached. "Great." She sighed looking them over. "Sweaty boys, just what the leather interior needed." She groaned.

Rodney shook his head. "Your car is partially spared. I'm walking home." He confirmed while jutting his thumb at the worn out football field behind him and the more worn out houses beyond.

Vivian opened the driver's side door and unlocked the passenger side so her brother could get in the car. "You sure?" She asked.

Rodney nodded. "I've been nonexistent around the house the last few weeks. Gran wants to build a family tradition."

Vivian nodded but didn't get in the car. "Well," she paused. "Tell her I said hi, and you to enjoy yourselves." She said with a soft smile.

Derek lowered his window enough to stick his head out. "Just make out already!" He yelled at both of them.

Vivian and Rodney blushed at the same moment and Vivian broke eye contact to jam her finger into the 'window up' button on her door handle. Her brother was cackling like a hyena and pulled his head back in just quick enough to barely avoid getting trapped by the rising window. When she looked back in Rodney's direction he had already started for his grandmother's house and was waving in her direction without looking back.

Shades of Justice: Page 46

Dante slept hard and woke up tossing and turning. It took him a moment to realize where he was and what had been happening before his nightmares. He wiped sweat from his brow and Sat up, instantly feeling the wear and tear from the last few days in his shoulders. He yawned so deeply his jaw popped. He got up off the bed and slid his shoes back on. Near the door he smelled coffee.

Further down the hall he found a large room that looked more like an office building break room than a futuristic command center. There was a coffee pot on the counter that was almost full and bubbling happily. He opened cabinets until he found a mug and grabbed the coffee pot to fill it.

He was alone at a table over a half drunk mug when Mark walked into the room. "Good morning." He offered, grabbing his own mug from the cupboard. "You snore like a demon, by the way." he said with a smile. "So I hope you slept well, because I didn't" He took his full mug and sat at the table with Dante.

Dante was dazed, and still half awake. "Nightmare's." He grunted. "Feels less like I slept and more like I was dead for a few hours." He sipped from his cup. "Did I miss anything?" He asked.

Mark shook his head. "No, I would have waken you for anything important." He assured. 

They sat in silence drinking coffee for a few moments. Waking reality was starting to seep back into Dante's mind. He got up and started to pace slowly. "How long do you think she'll be unconscious?" He asked.

Mark shrugged. "I dunno, I'm not a doctor." He said with little comfort.

Dante kept moving. "I should have gone instead of her." He told mostly himself.

Mark "Oh sure, That's why there are five of you. So the other four can beat themselves up every time one of you makes a dangerous decision. It's fun, you'll see. The bad guys aren't the real danger, it's the ulcers from guilt that'll really kill you." He finished and drank his coffee.

Dante stopped pacing. "Look I appreciate everything you've done for us, really I do, but are you our boss? the sixth member of the team? the Obi-Wan to our five lukes?" Dante asked.

Mark tried not to smile. "Why do you ask?" He asked.

Dante shrugged. "Because if she weren't on that med bay I wouldn't stick around here any longer than I physically had to and I can't think of a reason that anyone would. So why'd you stay?" He asked.

Mark thought about it for a second, sipped his coffee and set it down on the table softly. "Shakespeare" He finally replied.

Dante was thrown for a loop. "Excuse me?" He asked.

Mark smiled. "Plenty and peace breeds cowards, hardness ever of hardiness is mother." He clarified.

Dante was still lost. "You say that like it makes sense." He pointed out.

Mark "There is a mindset among a certain type of person, that there is an inherent horribleness in the universe that travels by way of osmosis. More easily infecting and thus destroying anyone who has known an easy and carefree life. That only constant preparation and holding watch against evils both great and terrible can successfully prepare a person to repel such evils should the need arise, and that a society that sees no need in such a preparation is not only destined for destruction but unworthy of the lofty position previous hardened souls lifted it too in the first place." He stopped to take a drink.

Dante "And this is what you believe?" He asked.

Mark shook his head. "The exact opposite in fact." He smiled. "I believe that we have an unfortunate addiction to believing our narrative is the central and singular reason for the existence of the universe, and that to believe such a thing regardless of all the evidence to the contrary is to turn a blind eye to the incomprehensibly vast and impossibly chaotic universe."

Dante nodded "So you do believe that peace breeds weakness." He circled back around.

Mark shook his head. "No I believe that ignorance does, but the human mind can only focus on so much at any one moment. And if keeping the peace for my friends and family and everyone else on earth means my life is focused on the villainy of extra-terrestrial chaos, then so be it. I will be the hardness ever of hardiness that breeds the plenty and peace."

Dante swirled the last bit of coffee in his mug. "What about the cowards?" He asked.

Mark finished his coffee. "That's what Shakespeare and every other doomsday preper got wrong. Peace doesn't breed cowards. Cowards just are and always will be. There is no amount of hardness that can breed out fear, nor breed it in any deeper than it already is." He stood up and smiled at Dante. "I stay because this seems like the best place for me to do the most good I know how to do. And that helps me sleep at night." He shut off the coffee maker. "Now come on, let's go check on Sonya." He finished.

Blood and Profit: Page 69

Mew had flown a lot of ships in her lifetime. From civilian cruisers all the way up to vehicle haulers. She had never flown the ship she found 'out back'. A vintage Shenear Luxury CT4. One of the most sought after space legal vehicles on the planet.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Ling.

"I know right?" Ling answered.

"Ling, I used to dream about this Shenear CT4 and you guys want me to use it for an errand?" She almost shouted.

"It's a ship!" The professor shouted. "We needed a ship, now get in the ship, and go confirm our tests at the ring, please!" He yelled.

She could hear Ling walk out into the hallway away from the lab. "He really doesn't care about it, I honestly don't even know where he got it." She said before she ended the call.

Mew used the keys to open the door and it slid open in total silence. not even the hint of a compressor hiss or a gear spinning. She carefully stepped inside and marveled at the incredible hand done interior leather. She ran her hands along the mid wall seam as she stepped into the pilot bay. Sitting in the chair was like sitting in a cloud that was made specifically for her. After three minutes of just enjoying the experience of sitting in the CT4 she couldn't wait any longer and she started the ship. The door closed and the engine roared to life exactly as it had in ever vid she'd ever seen that had a CT4 in it.

It had been years since she thought of flying as anything other than a chore, and now because of this ship she was dreamily making her way off to do legitimate chores. She barely even noticed the almost two hour wait for the pattern to clear so she could safely transfer to orbit around the colony.

Once she was in orbit she took the opportunity to open the engine up and give it some room to run.

She zipped over to the ring at just over 60% of maximum engine thrust and could feel the rest of the ships power silently begging to be set free.

She was reaching for the throttle when the comms chimed. "Hey!" The professor shouted. "Are you there yet?" he asked, clearly frustrated by the waste of several hours.

She pressed a button to open the channel from her side. "Yeah, just got here." She confirmed.

"Good." He calmed down. "Let's get to work" He said almost sounding something close to happy.

Lidarion: page 42

Obla'reth returned to the podium. He opened the book and continued to translate. "It is in the best interest of all races and the paragons for the paragon's to be left alone. But the titans were not stupid. There was no point to creating stewards of the world if the world could not call upon them when needed." He turned the page. "And so there were legends and songs placed in every society. Seeded into every generation."

Obla'reth looked up from the book. "You already know how to contact the paragons." He said.

Squints sighed. "I'm pretty sure I'd remember knowing how to summon the paragons." He said.

Obla'reth looked down at him. "Do you have a particular interest in nursery rhymes, and bed time stories?" He asked.

Squints opened his mouth and froze for a second.

Brooke jumped in. "Blessed is the king of the Earth, Sitting in the heart of the crown."

Squints shook his head. "There is no crown mountain or mountain range. It's just a song, it doesn't exist." He sighed again.

"Yes it did." Harruff spoke up for the first time in hours. "Names rarely live as long as the things they identify. Crown in the oldest minotaur language roughly translates to Urune." He explained.

Squints shook his head "I thought Urune meant hat?" He asked.

Harruff shrugged "I did say 'roughly'" He replied.

"How does this help us?" Lisa asked.

Squint's eyes lit up. "Because before we referred to that range as the 'The cliff cities' it was the Urune mountain range." he said with a smile.

Trent looked skeptical. "Who thought that 'The hat mountains' was a good name?" He grumbled.

Squints sighed "I think your missing the point."

Melody and Harmony: Page 14

Foster, like the others was dead center of the spot light and had his hands up. He was trying to figure out where his night had gone so incredibly wrong. He shouldn't have quit the gang, it was the only life he had over known, and now he was going to prison.

The kid in white who had held him at gun point did not have his hands up. "Close your eyes." He whispered.

"Why?" Foster questioned.

"Just do it!" He snapped.

Foster closed his eyes and there was a bright flash, he could see the light even through, his eye lids. He felt the kid all in white grab his wrist and pulled him away from the alleyway.

"You can open your eyes now." He advised, as they continued to move.

Foster opened his eyes and followed the kid in white.

The kid in white stopped at a door he knocked three times with his knuckles and once with his elbow.

The door opened and the kid in white pulled Foster inside. As the door closed it faded into the wall indistinguishable from the rest of the wall.

Foster noticed immediately that the room they were in was very small, barely enough for the both of them. "What is this place?" He asked.

"Shhhh!" The kid in white hissed. "We needed a place to hide." He whispered.

Foster nodded. "Yeah but how did you even know this was here?" Foster asked in a whisper.

The kid in white turned away from the door and leaned against the wall "I do a lot of hiding, noticed pretty early on that there weren't enough places to hide. So my friends and I made some." He explained.

On the other side the door they could hear soldiers canvasing the alleyway

Shades of Justice: Page 45

After six hours of sleep, six sodas and six toaster pastries, Warren found himself on the bus headed to QQPewPew. He didn't really know what else to do with his free time.

He entered the mall through the food court and made his way down the hall to QQPewPew. He could see from a ways off that most of the screens were running the same match of the same game, which mean that there was a tournament of something playing. He got closer to the store and realized it was Heroes Guard. A team based, field control, character focused, First Person Shooter.

He walked into the store and move around and in between the audience, he stopped at Arthur's desk where Arthur was uncharacteristically watching the match rather than playing on his Gameboy. 

Arthur held his fist out and Warren bumped it. "Who's playing?" Warren asked.

"Scrubkings versus Fat Sami" Arthur replied without looking away from the match. 

Warren watched the match for a moment. The commentator camera was floating above the center of the arena and Turtle Soup was on a three kill streak effectively blocking the choke point allowing Falsetto to gain much needed distance to the goal.

Arthur pointed to the father and son that Warren had introduced himself to the last time he had been at the store. "You're friends are sitting right there. if you feel like saying hi after this point I'm sure they'd enjoy seeing you." He waved Warren off as Falsetto scored the point for his team and the match field reset to cheers and groans from the audience.

Warren made is way through the crowd over to the chairs where the father and son were sitting, kneeling down behind them as the commentators laid out the current game state. "Hey Frankie" Warren said almost had to shout. Frankie and his father turned around. "Who's winning?" He asked with a smile.

Frankie's eyes got wide and he smiled from ear to ear. "Warren!" he shouted into Warren's face.

"With the rest timer hitting ten seconds, it's looking more and more like this is Fat Sami's game to win unless the Scrubkings can figure out a way to neutralize Turtle Soup who has been playing at the top of his game today John." The first announcers voice oppressively filled the room.

"Don't count Scrubkings out yet Tory, Duster and Burnt Toast are both clutch players that have incredible records coming from behind to win not just matches, but entire tournaments for the Scubkings. These guys didn't make it to worlds on accident."

"Absolutely John, Well ladies and gentlemen the round has reset and we've gotten green lights from both Scrubkings and Fat Sami to begin round four."

The screen flashed from the commentators to the game area again as Warren, Frankie and his dad turned their attention to the match.

After the game had finished the three of them decided to have lunch in the food court before the afternoon matches got started. Frankie was almost coming out of his skin he was so excited. "How did you get started as a pro gamer?" he asked.

His father leaned over a little. "Frankie you don't need to bombard him with questions all the time." 

Frankie nodded. "Sorry."

Warren shook his head. "It's fine, I promise." He said with a smile. "I actually got really sick the summer before last and had a long recovery time. I was playing MS a lot because my parents cause it had been a birthday present. The end of that summer there was a pro qualifier tournament and I got notice that my player score was high enough to go. I told my mom that I wanted to at least try and so I basically took over my parents computer and practiced like crazy. My parents took me to the tournament and I came in somewhere in the low twenties out of the almost two hundred that showed up for the event. I even played a match that was streamed online. I made about three hundred for my placement and had my entry into fall qualifiers covered by the company. just like everyone else in the top fifty. I was hooked. Placed 8th at fall qualifiers, my parents wanted their computer back so I used part of my prize money to buy myself a laptop and never looked back." Warren explained.

Frankie nodded. and poked at his hot dog. "So why'd you quit?" He asked nervously.

Warren wiggled the straw in his drink for a second. "Because as much as I love gaming, I had some responsibilities come up that were more important. and unfortunately taking care of those responsibilities mean I had to put my gaming career on pause for a little while." He said sadly.

Frankie nodded again. "But you want to come back?" He asked.

Warren nodded. "Very much so, I hope when I do come back that the game hasn't passed me by yet." He said.

Frankie lit up."You're so good though! can't you keep practicing in your free time?" He almost shouted.

Warren smiled. "We'll see about that." he pointed at Frankie. "What about you? You going to stay a spectator or do you want to be a player?" he asked with a grin.

Frankie blushed and nodded to his dad. "I'm not nearly good enough." He replied.

His dad rustled his hair. "He's good enough to beat the pants off of me in every single game we've ever played. He's said he'd like to try for Heroes Guard when he gets old enough." His dad added.

Frankie looked shocked. "You said only if I kept my grades up, when I actually got to a grade that gave grades." He laughed.

His father nodded. "And that's still true. If trying out for a pro spot is something you want to do and you can balance it with school then I'll do what ever I can to help you son." His father smiled.

Warren finished his soda. smiling at the pair across the table from him. "Thanks for having lunch with me today." He thank them.

Frankie laughed. "You're thanking us!" He said in shock. "My friends at school still won't believe that I've meet you!" He couldn't keep his voice down.

Warren laughed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "How about a picture then?" He said.

Frankie was forcing himself not to vibrate into a different universe in excitement. "DAD, DAD, DAD," He shoved his own phone into his dad's fumbling hands as he jumped out of his chair and scrambled around the table. "take the picture dad!" He laughed as he stood next to Warren and they fist bumped and his father took awkwardly framed photo after awkwardly framed photo.

 

Shades of Justice: Page 44

Gordon arrived in the kitchen of his parents home. his phone said it was about ten in the morning on Tuesday but he was so tired that it didn't mean anything to his mind. He heated up two toaster waffles and ate them without thinking about it. withing fifteen minutes of getting home had kicked off his shoes and passed on on his bed.

He shot awake like a gun had gone off. His room was dark. the glasses in the pocket of his Letterman jacket were dark as well and had no messages waiting for him when he put them on. His phone said it was 5:30pm. He went downstairs and found his parents already home and going about their usual evening routines.

His mother was in the kitchen making something sweet for one charity or another. She had changed out of her business attire into old sweats and gotten right back to work. She saw him out of corner of her eye as she was pouring melted chocolate from a pot into a pan to cool. "Gordon, Your coach called today, he says you quit football." She said with most of her attention on the chocolate.

Gordon nodded. "I uh, I don't know, school's gotten pretty intense this year and football just isn't as fulfilling as it used to be, I guess." He fumbled.

His father came into the kitchen. "School and your grades is the most important thing son, but you also made a commitment to your team, and you don't learn anything about personal responsibility when you just give up on a commitment you've made because its no longer fun or entertaining. The coach and your teammates need to know they can count on you son." 

His father's lecture got under his skin. "And who am I supposed to count on Dad? And why does anyone have to count on anyone, it's a below average high school sport in a below average town, full of below average nobodies. It's not war Dad, its sports and in the long run if high school football is the reason I learned the be accountable for my commitments then you were pretty shitty parents." He snapped as he stomped out the kitchen and then the front door of the house.

He wandered for almost an hour and found himself led by the sounds of the football game being played at the high school. he was on the far side of the perimeter fence. His old team was ahead by a touchdown. He sat and watched the rest of the game, an easy victory, he never would have even stepped on the field had he still been on the team.

As everyone filed out of the stadium he made his way around to the entrance and slowly fought through the crowds. Once he was inside he made his way back to the locker room and ran into the coach as he was leaving the locker room having just given his post game speech.  He didn't seem surprised or angry. "Mr. Jones. Good to see you." He offered.

Gordon nodded. "I just wanted to come by and thank you for checking up on me with my parents. I know it wasn't the best way to quit the team but I gotta focus on school this year." He explained.

The coach nodded. "You know that excuse is only gonna fly until your report card comes out, the D's and F's are gonna knock it right out of the sky." He sighed. "You wanna maybe try the truth this time?" he asked. Gordon shook his head. "Is it drugs?" The coach asked. Gordon shook his head again. "Peer pressure?" he tried again. "You running with a dangerous crowd?" He dug a little deeper. 

Gordon looked down the hall at the patch of field he could see. "Maybe, but their dangerous for the right reason's." He explained.

The coach nodded. "Your parents ok with bailing you out of jail?" he asked again, no coldly, not judgmentally, just asking sincerely. 

Gordon shook his head.  "No, but jail is the last place I'll end up." he said flatly with huff.

The coach nodded. "The coffin is worse." He offered.

Gordon nodded. "How come you're so calm about this?" he asked.

The coach leaned against the cement block wall. "Because after seventeen years I've learned to spot the determined ones. I rarely know what their determined to do, but determination always looks the same, you guys wear your honor stapled to your chest and run breast first into the world like you're immortal." He sighed. "Once I spot the determined ones, its just a matter of clearing the road ahead for them as best I can before their gone." he got up off the wall. "So, you need the road cleared, you just let me know. You may not be on the team, but as long as you're a student, I'm your teacher." he said before patting him heavily on the shoulder and heading out to the field.

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Shades of Justice: page 43

Mark saw the weariness in the other Shades, looked to Sonya on the bed with Dante at her side. He cleared his throat. "Technarious, these kids have been fighting for weeks now with little to no training. No other team has done more with less than they have. I think they need a break." He pointed out.

Technarious looked at each of them and realized Mark was right. He nodded. "You have all been doing the very best that you could given your circumstances. You've fought hard and the Earth has fared well under your protection." They all stood a little taller despite their weariness. "You've won some big victories, but we've got a long way left to go, and we're not getting their with you guys soul weary and bone tired." They all nodded quietly. "Take what time you can. Barring emergencies I'll see you all in a week for training." several of them moved to protest. "Don't even start. Your next mission is defeating exhaustion, no go!" He demanded. Everyone but Dante, Sonya and Mark nodded and teleported out of the command center.

Mark look to Dante. "You can get going too. She's going to be there for a while." He assured him,

Dante shook his head. "I'm staying here. I haven't been very supportive since this whole mess got started, she's going to see me here when she wakes up." He declared.

Mark nodded. "Admirable. but she's going to be out for at least another day or two based on the sedatives, when was the last time you slept?" He asked.

Dante shrugged. "What day is it?" He asked. Looking around the command center at the lack of clocks, calendars, and windows.

Mark nodded. "It's Dante takes a nap day." Mark said with a soft smile. "Ask your glasses to lead you to the bunks, get some sleep. I'll call you if there's any change." He assured Dante.

Dante nodded and put his glasses on. "take me to the bunks." He said mostly to himself. and followed the directions that popped up on his lenses.

Technarious was busy at a computer console catching up on the status of the command center. "Did you really have to cut a door into the wall?" He asked.

Mark shrugged. "You should be glad this place is still standing. These kids have had a raw run so far, and your memret wasn't as smooth or efficient as either of us hoped, took a while for it to kick in." He explained. "Considering the circumstances I think things are going better than we could reasonably hope for." He pointed out.

Technarious nodded. "Never under estimate the power of sheer dumb luck." He said.

Mark nodded. "But don't depend on it either." He added.

They bumped fists. Technarious went back to his work. "I hope they enjoy their time off." He said.

blood and profit: page 66

It turned out to be a surprisingly beneficial way to combat time. He was assigned to an indoor protean farm. For the first few days he was fascinated by the watching the system work. His job was to pull the full protean pouches from the grid and replace them with empty sacks. If any tubes gave a pressure alert all he had to do was go to where the tube had turned bright red and either undo the kink or squish out the blockage. Ultimately it was simple, mind numbingly dull work, but the facility had not yet been fully automated and so it required this one bit of human interaction.

Apparently mind numblingly dull repetitive work was what his mind needed to regain its creative drive. By the end of the first week he was a chapter into the only writing he had done in more than five years. His weekend disappeared into delivered food and the constant clacking of his keyboard. His mind only barely gave in to the biological needs of his body and by the time he was due back at work he felt the toll it was taking, but he didn't care. He grabbed a tablet, got dressed and went to work.

And that's how P.H. Turner wrote his final work. using every spare moment he could find while working at a Protean farm helping to create supplies for a journey he would never take.

It was over a month into the draft before his kids could get away to visit him. They had scheduled their breaks so they had two days off together to catch up. Mew arrived home not long after P.H. had gotten home from the farm. She rang the door bell out of politeness but then let herself to find him sitting at the kitchen table, typing like a man possessed, still in his dirty farm clothes. She saw what he was doing and couldn't help but smile. "I was going to ask how you were holding up but considering the fact that your writing again, I'm going to say that things are going slightly more than well." She patted him on the shoulder lightly before walking into the kitchen.

He didn't respond with anything more than a non-committal grunt. She opened the refrigerator and saw that it was nearly empty. "Let me guess, you've been living on takeout and junk food." She sighed. "Dad you could have said something, I would have come by sooner." She whined.

"Uh-huh." He offered, totally absorbed in his writing.

Mew shook her head with a knowing smile. She hadn't seen him like this since she was a teenager and she was happy to see him so absorbed again. "Ok well, I'm going to go shopping for food and things for the weekend, you just keep writing." She said watching his hands blur over the keyboard as he worked.

"Ok honey, you have fun." He offered automatically. She nodded and left the house.

Lidarion: Page 39

The Librarian looked up from the book to check on his audience. "I understand that you have come a long way, but your questions have ancient answers and while I appreciate you suffering through my translations, we've only just begun. If you would kindly join me for dinner we can continue the book this evening." The Librarian looked tired and had significantly less pep in his step as he led the group out of the scroll room and back into the main library.

The windows were dark now, the librarian had been translating most of the day, Squints moved up to join him and they quickly fell into a conversation.

Brook, Dean, Lisa and Trent began their own conversation in hushed whispers. "I think we may have bitten off more than we can chew with this one." Brook started.

Dean shrugged. "That's assuming any of these stories are even remotely true." He countered.

Lisa nodded. "Assuming they are true, how do we know if the Paragon's are even still alive today, or trapped in physical form, or what ever it is the Titan's did to them." She asked.

Brook looked at the distant glare coming from Trent. "Thoughts?" She asked.

Trent cleared his throat. "It's a long journey no matter what. We've already traveled further than I ever have in my life and this thing has barely even started." He looked to Dean. "If you need to go, go. With what we brought in Gold we can buy a ship that will serve our purposes." He looked to Lisa and Brook. "You two can be back in Lidarion today by way of the door." He finished.

Brook shook her head. "If you are staying, I am staying." She said with finality.

Lisa nodded. "Brandon wanted us to work together and his efforts led us here, so here I stay." She agreed.

Dean shrugged. "I have no desire to ever let my sister beat me up again so my ship is your ship for as long as you have need of it." He offered.

Trent nodded. "Your all fools, but your my kind of fools." He said with a warm smile.

"Hey guys!" Squints voice echoed down the hall the group had stopped in. They looked up to see him peeking his head between two gigantic hand carved wooden doors. They were large enough to make Harruff look small and had barely needed to be opened for him to pass through. Squints was on the far side of the doors. "When you're done with your little meeting, you might want to look at this!" He shouted happily. and disappeared back behind the door.

They were not far from the doors, maybe a hundred feet and quickly made their way down the hall to see what ever had cheered him up.

Melody and Harmony: page 12

It was a favor big enough to earn him the time off for the festival, without loosing his new job. The club owner called it by one of the ancient slang names, "Mary Jane". He didn't say what he needed it for, and Aaron didn't ask. He didn't say how much and Aaron didn't ask. All the club owner told him was where to go, when to be there, and who he was meeting for the exchange.

The last thing the club owner did before showing him the door was hand him four cash cards, each of them held more money than Aaron could spend in half a year. The club owner handed them over like he was passing out club fliers and saw the look on Aaron's face. "You may work for favors but these will open and close doors you'd never be able to approach otherwise." he explained.

Something in the back of his mind started screaming. This was just a simple exchange, what doors would he possible need this money money to handle? His conscious mind chalked the oddity up to the differences in the way rich people valued things and took the cards. "This much will make us targets of every low life with a cred scanner between here and any of your 'doors'" He used air quotes for the club owners benefit.

"If I thought you couldn't handle thugs and punks, I wouldn't have asked you back." he said with finality and turned his attention back to his other work. Aaron left quietly.

Back at the table he filled his friends in using their shorthand mumble toned garbage speak. Words within words, verbal misdirects, and empty trap sentences to deter anyone who might have been listening. It had taken them years to develop the language, but it had never failed them.

They finished their drinks and left the Shadow Church one at a time, each of them went in different directions at different times, then when they were sure they weren't being followed they met at their agreed upon location.

It was the last time the night went according to plan.

Spoonerville: Page 10

And that's how Rodney spent the last two weeks of summer break. Eating pizza and playing video games. He didn't know it at the time but it was easily the longest period of normalcy in Spoonerville in years, and before he could even really begin to appreciate it, it was over. The school year started on Monday.

The spoonerville education system consisted of exactly three hundred and thirteen kids in grades K through twelve. Putting about twenty three kids in each grade. These kids had grown up together from birth in most cases. They knew each other intensely and as they got older, intimately. So when someone left it was like a death in the family, and when someone new arrived it was cause for celebration, mostly.

Social ecosystems are delicate, living things with a thousand moving parts. Change any one previously existing variable and you risk throwing a stable system into chaos. Add and entirely new set of variables and you guarantee chaos. Good administrators spend their career fighting against the eternal flood of chaos with everything they have. Great administrators ride the chaos like a wave, reaching out to touch the water here an there to balance out an uneven swell. They don't fight the tide, they just direct it so it reaches land safely and with as little incident as possible.

Marcus Spooner  High School consisted of a gym that they shared with Alicia Spooner elementary and what looked like a squat beige one story office building. Derek had already explained the basics of the social ecosystem to Rodney. There were one hundred and twenty one students in the high school, Rodney was one hundred and twenty two. Even in a school this small cliques still existed, just in smaller numbers.

Rodney lived less than a quarter mile from the school and there were no buses for him to ride. He had plannned on just walking to school until Derek and Vivian offered to pick him up in the morning. They were finishing up a game of Mario Party the night before.

"Why bother?" Rodney asked. "I like like, maybe three hundred yards from the school, save your gas." He replied.

Derek shook his head. "Just ride with us, it's your first day." He insisted.

"It'll be fuuuuuuun." Vivian sang in a teasing tone.

The mini game ended and Rodney shrugged. "Sure, why not." He gave in.

The next morning he paced nervously in the entry way of his grandmothers house and hated himself for it. His crush on Vivian had only gotten worse and she seemed to know almost instantly about the power he had subconsciously given her. Thankfully neither of them had spoken about this power exchange out loud and so they continued their silent one way tug of war.

The Volvo pulled up and Derek honked the horn to summon Rodney outside. He practically dove into the back seat. "Morning" he offered, shutting the back door of the car. "What's that smell?" he asked.

Derek laughed and Vivian poked at a green pouch hanging from the rear view mirror. "Burnt sage, dipped in patchouli oil." She explained before turning around to smile sweetly at him. "You a fan of the Grateful Dead?" She asked.

He knew of the band but couldn't remember actually ever hearing any of their songs and he said as much.

Derek shook his head as he pulled into the school parking lot. "You'll know more than you ever wanted to" He pointed his thumb at his sister. "Thanks to her. She's a dead head, through and through." He parked the car and pulled the keys.

Rodney moved for the door but Derek stopped him. He held out a heavy iron key. "Here, take this." he offered. "It's my emergency key to the pizza place." He explained.

Rodney accepted they key and looked it over. There was a thin line of silver inlaid into the fat iron head. "Why do I need a key to the pizza place?" He asked.

Derek smiled. "You probably won't. But I can't be awake and in town 24/7, so if you don't mind I was going to put you down as the emergency contact for the store." He explained. Rodney looked back at they key again, sensing its weight even more now. "If you're ok with that." Derek repeated.

Rodney snapped out of his daze and nodded. "Yeah, it's cool, thanks." He replied.

Vivian opened her door and got out of the car, the boys followed her lead. 

Shades of Justice: Page 42

The install wasn't what Mark would call easy. On top of the memories from the subcon memret flooding back into his conscious mind there were safety systems and security measures on top of security measures in Technarious' head.

He caught himself laughing at one pint. The symmetry of working on Technarious' 'mind' after Technarious had worked on his was funny. The others did not see the humor and he didn't have time to explain why he was laughing.

Once the consciousness unit had been removed a warning popped up in his mind. "I need a containment field around Technarious' old body!" The words came out of his mouth unconsciously. Technarious' old body began to crackle and spark heavily. The containment field popped up just before the entire thing fried itself into useless junk.

Mark began to move as if he held the world record for speed solving a Rubiks Cube. "I can't tell if there's any degradation of the unit until we get it plugged in, and there is every possibility that its already garbage based on the fact that it might have already wiped itself as a 'safety measure'." He explained as he worked.

It was a tense couple minutes but when he was done he felt like he had been successful. He and the rest of the Shades waited with baited breath as the back of Technarious' new head closed up. After an eternal three second wait Technarious' eyes blinked on and off. There was nothing for a few more eternal seconds. and then, the smallest of movements.

"Oh that sucked!" Technarious groaned as he sat up to several sighs of relief. He took stock of the body they had picked for him. "Well, I would have gone for the blue one next but such is life." He said with a smile. He got off the table and onto his feet. "You've all done incredibly well considering the circumstances." He congratulated the room of smiling faces. "But we've got a lot more work to do ." He finished.

Kelly stepped up. "Technarious do you know where Lumarion is?" She asked.

Technarious nodded. "Raptarus invaded the command center, He's got a shard of darkness in his left eye socket. He trapped Lumarion in it." He explained.

Warren shook his head. "We already killed that guy once. What do we have to do?" He groaned.

Technarious's gave a razor thin glare. "Kill him again, and make it stick this time. Then destroy the shard." He growled.

Gordon scoffed. "So no big deal then." he said sarcastically.

Blood and Profit: Page 65

Time is a fickle and vicious mistress with the sense of humor of a pit viper.

P.H. Turner had never liked time. He had failed as a writer for years due to his inability to manage it. Never having enough when he needed it, or watching it slip through his fingers when he wanted it to freeze forever.

His wife seemed to have completely mastered the manipulation of time. It was only with her help and guidance that he began to publish his writings. Of course she wasn't his wife at first, but he realized on the day he held the first copy of his first book in his hands and couldn't take his eyes off her that she would be someday, all he needed was time.

She was gone now. Her memory was a constant reminder of everything time had robbed him of. Her voice was always there though, organizing and planning out the day, making sure all the proper sacrifices to time were made, even now after all these years, the bills got paid, the chores got done, time was methodically disarmed every day.

And there were the children. They had their own lives now and visited often. At first they moved around the house as if her memory were a piece of furniture that took up too much space. But time played it's little games and she slowly stopped being an oppressive absence and became for a fine layer of memory that coated everything in the house. A layer that wore down a little more each passing day.

He loved watching the children live their lives. They both in their own way had their mother's drive. Neither saw time as the enemy it so clearly was, and for that he was eternally grateful.

Eventually the river of his creativity dried up. Time had wounded him again. Robbing him of his desire to write, while maliciously leaving him alive. Nothing more than a burnt out light bulb fused into its socket unable to be removed. With the children so busy all the time, and his creative drive gone, he was left alone face to face with his oldest and most dedicated enemy.

Then the wave came, riding in on that pit viper smile. The children had plans within plans, and they filled him in with urgency. He cheered them on but told them with absolute certainty that he would be staying behind. He could not leave his wife, and he could not run away from time. It seemed like forever ago but he once again felt eagerness in his blood. He was ready.

But the rest of the world was not. They were short on everything from ships to food and fuel. The announcement of the shortages and the draft turned his eagerness to apprehension and dread. Suddenly there was not enough time and all he could hear was his wife's voice telling him to go, telling him how to use the time he had left.

Lidarion: Page 37

There were endless speculations as to how and why the create at the end of the bone road came to be. The reason most often shared among the races is that there were Titans that were not quite ready to pass on, and their desire to stay in the mortal realm festered inside the mountain, eventually coalescing into something not alive and not quite dead.

The Paragon of Death was a vile, angry, dark, and uncaring monstrosity that was obsessed with but entirely unable to pass through the great barrier it sat watch over.

All who spoke with the Paragon reported the results of their meeting from the afterlife. A place as real as this reality but apart from it, populated only by those who had already passed through this realm.

On the other side was a creature of equal size and power but with the polar opposite ability, demeanor and focus. The Paragon of life was the guardian of the far side of the eternity gate. The physical manifestation of the barrier between this realm and the next.

With the crypt of the Titans no longer available it became unclear where the Titans went to die. and as their numbers dwindled it became clear that it was a secret they would be taking to their now unknown graves.

The first stories of interactions with the paragons came almost immediately. Before long there were grand narratives of adventure and treasure, danger and excitement. As the narratives grew from simple stories to legendary tales the Sigil's became a greater part of the overall narrative. Some stories said they granted wishes to whom ever held all six. Many other stories reported them bestowing upon their owners  the gift of immortality. Some even touted the sigils ability to create a living god.

None of these stories has ever been confirmed, No reliable information about even the existence of the sigils exists. They are mentioned here as a matter of hystical record relating to the Paragon's.

Melody and Harmony: Page 11

It was hard sometimes, to get the lighter drugs in Harmony. Sure you could get gellcaps of Fry in almost every back alley and if there was a club that didn't have half a dozen Roatso dealers he had never heard of it. But if you wanted something simple and natural, like weed, you had to know someone that could get you access into a surprisingly large secret underground culture that had more scientists and gardeners than it did criminals and dealers.

Weed was one of the last surviving natural plants. It had long since been adapted to a large number of possible growth opportunities. That didn't mean it was easy, or cheap to find. The growth community's survival depended on secrecy and trust, doing business in private and keeping absolutely calm in public.The good stuff was expensive, the great stuff could only be traded for favors.

The first time Aaron and his friends had smoked, it was a reward from a job he had been volunteered for. All four of them swore off all other drugs the very first night they got high. Over the years all four of them had slowly built themselves a reputation within the community. It was known among the the lower levels that there was no favor to difficult for them, and their success had become their currency.

The growth community traveled beneath the cultural boundaries that existed within Harmony. It didn't matter if you worshiped Pop or Nu Wave Jazz Metal, everyone loved weed.

As the night had gone on a waitress stopped by Aaron's table and given him a card requesting that he come back to the club owners office. He extracted himself from his friends and made his way over to and down the dark hallway that ended at the club owners door. There was a red light above the door handle and a small sign asking him to knock.

He felt but couldn't hear his knuckles bounce off the door. The light above the door handle turned from red to green and Aaron reached for the handle finding the door heavy, but smooth to the touch and easy to open. It also shut solidly behind him.

The first thing he noticed once the door shut was the near absolute silence in the room. He took his head phones off as the club manager nodded at him. "I know right?" He said with a smile.

Aaron nodded and left his headphones around his neck. He stood for a second in awe of the silence. The only sound he could hear came from a small water fountain on the club owners desk. The owner noticed him looking at it. "Oh." He waved his hand through the middle of the hologram "Just a hologram, I've got money, but not enough that can waste water." He said with a sad smile.

Aaron nodded to the empty chair on his side of the desk and the club owner nodded. Aaron sat as the owner started talking. "So, word on the street is that you're not just a great DJ but that you know, people." The club owner veered into the end of the sentence as casual as he could, which wasn't much at all. Aaron nodded once. "So if you did me a, favor, what kind of favor would you expect in return?" He awkwardly asked again.

Aaron had been through this process many, many times. "First, I'd need to know just how big a favor you need me to do." He asked.

Spoonerville: Page 9

Rodney was pulled into the space between dreams and consciousness by the alarm on his phone. Part of his mind was awake enough to realize the buzzing noise was not a part of the surfing competition he had just won and was successfully dragging the rest of him back to the waking world.

He reached out clumsily for his phone and tapped the screen until the alarm stopped. He looked at the screen to see that it wasn't an alarm and he had just typed [7is57;o.;] to Derek on Facebook Messenger.

[what the heck is that?] popped up

Rodney looked at their conversation so far.

[Gauntlet Legends and breakfast pizza, you in?]
[Rodney, Red Warrior needs food badly]
[Dude I'm dying over here]
[Is this annoying yet?]
[How 'bout now]
[Now?]
                                                           [7is57;o.;]
[What the heck is that?]

Rodney shook his head and typed out his reply. [You did't say you were a morning person] sent it off, dropped his phone on the bed and began to scrounge around for a clean shirt. He had considered doing laundry last night but it was still summer, even if the weather in the state denied that fact with every fiber of it's being, he still had a few blessed weeks before school started. The only reason he could think of to wear truly clean clothes was to try and impress Vivian and he wasn't ready to look that obvious yet. His phone beeped as he pulled a Warcraft shirt on that didn't have any stains.

[Does it count as 'morning person' if I haven't slept yet?]

Rodney shook his head. [Oh great. Does this mean you're going to pass out sometime this afternoon and I will get to make my very own garbage pizza?] He replied as he stepped into his shoes. He dumped his phone into the pocket of his jeans and grabbed his jacket off the hook and slid into it and left the house.

His pocket beeped down the block. [A; Not passing out any time soon according to 5 hour energy]

Rodney's fingers flew over his phone screen [five hours from now is still only two this afternoon.]

the reply was near instant. [oh sure, if you wanna be a wuss and only drink one.]

Rodney sighed [and how many have you had?]

[let's see...carry the one...enough to stay awake for forty hours]

Rodney laughed out loud, alone, on the street. [I don't think it works like that.]

[if one gives you five hours of energy then eight should keep you awake for a like a day and a half. That's not marketing, that's basic math.]

Rodney groaned and typed his reply. [You do know there's a limit to how long the human body can stay conscious for right?] he sent it off.

[you are assuming I am human] came the reply.

[dude even superman sleeps!] He replied without thinking.

[prove it!]

[what are you trying to do anyway? become so caffeinated that you vibrate into a different dimension?] he asked waiting for the light to turn green so he could cross the street.

[Got it in one] came the reply.

Rodney dropped his phone into his jacket pocket and hurried the last fifty feet to the pizza shop and pulled the door open making the bell ring.

Shades of Justice: page 41

The beach brought a piece of mind that Mark had been missing. He slept on the sand, kept time with the sun, and company with the ocean. It was a simple life, but it made him happier than he could ever remember being.

One year to the day after their victory was the next time the glasses lit up. He put them on without thinking and teleported to the command center. It was the first time since that day that he had been summoned rather than just showing up on his own.

He arrived in the command center alone. Tehcnarious and Lumarion greeted him. "What's the situation?" He asked as he took off his glasses.

"You may relax Eric, there is no emergency." Lumarion reassured him.

Eric had gotten tense and tried to let it go. He felt his shoulders relax. "So why the call then?" he asked.

"It has been a year without incident here." Lumarion started. "It is time to retire your team and begin training a new one." his colors dimmed and then brightened again. "But between now and the end of their training is not your responsibility." The color wall darkened for a second before it lit up again. "Unless you want it to be." He continued. "Your original oath has been fulfilled. You are free to turn your shades in and return to your normal life." Lumarion got brighter.

Mark looked at the silver shades in his hand. Then back at Lumarion. "What did the other's say?" He asked.

"That I cannot tell you. This is a choice each of you must make freely, without external pressure." Lumarion's colors were neutral tones and average brightness "You must do what is right for you, and you alone." Lumarion finished.

Mark looked back at his shades. "And it's only until the new team is ready?" he asked. Technarious nodded. Mark pocketed his shades. "I'll stay on until then." he answered looking at Lumarion.

Technarious set the open shade case down so that Mark couldn't see the inside and stepped forward. "I'm glad you're staying Mark. First things first, we need to get you prepped for Subcon Memret implementation." Technarious rattled the worlds off like they meant something to Mark.

"Subcon Memret?" Mark asked,

Technarious nodded. "Subconscious Memory Retrieval." He started. "We're going to place some very important data in your mind in case of emergencies. It can be retrieved through the use of certain key words. That way as long as you are alive, the next team will have an emergency backup plan, and access to resources, even in the worse case scenario." Technarious explained.

Mark hesistated. "So your going to fill my head with information that I won't remember unless its keyword activated?" He clarified.

Technarious nodded. "Yup, best to think of yourself as a last resort treasure map." He replied.

Mark nodded slowly. "That doesn't sound as good as you think it does." He snapped.

Technarious led Mark out of the main command center hall and into a lab. "I'm a robot not a writer." He replied.

"Is this going to hurt?" Mark asked.

Technarious shook his head. "You'll be asleep having the best dreams ever, and you won't even remember it happened." He answered.

In the glasses case sat all but the silver shades.

Testament Book One

My first Novella is available here: http://www.lulu.com/shop/jesse-kincaid/testament-book-1/paperback/product-23406819.html

Testament is the story of the hidden bonds between Heaven, Hell, and Earth. A world where every fantastical creature ever imagined actually exists, and one where normal humans are the most dangerous monster among them. From biblical times the balance between the realms has been kept on Earth by an organization called Neutralis. A government made up of representatives from every race and every faith. These representatives work together to ensure the continuance of as much of the linear universe as possible. But when the Vampires decide to reveal themselves and freely feed on humanity, events are set in motion that move all three realms closer to the end of all things than they have ever been before.

Blood and Profit: Page 64

Eamon was torn. He had always seen his path so clearly, always known where he wanted to, needed to, and should be. For the first time in his life all three of those places were different. He needed to be in the forest working with the Starseeds and continuing to be their point of contact with the colony. He should be in the capital taking the burden of responsibility off of Kepi's shoulders. And he wanted to be at home with his father if only because now more than ever the realization of how little time they had left together was getting heavier by the day. But Kepi and his Father had both in their own way told him to finish what he started, so he stayed in the forest, even as his heart and mind were elsewhere.

The Starseed library was a success. The dark matter of their collective unconsciousness had to be dissolved several times a day to protect the now gargantuan tree ship. And the books were already being used as a reference. Eamon had to reteach them how to make books twice already. It had only slowed them down a little.

The tree ship was also growing, it was larger than any other tree on the planet and would soon be larger than any building if it kept up, and as far as the Starseeds could remember, it would definitely keep growing.

All in all the last two months had gone much smoother than they had any right to, Eamon admitted to himself as he made dinner a few days after the senate voted in favor of the labor draft. Just as he was sitting down to eat he got a message from his sister,

[Have you talked with dad about this stupid draft thing? - Mew]

He typed out his response in silence.

[Enough to know that he's not really interested in talking about it. - Eamon]

He knew his sister was just getting started so he ate with his right hand and held his phone in his left.

[He's already volunteered! - Mew]

The message was quick to arrive but not all that surprising.

[He's a grown man, his life is his own. - Eamon]

He hadn't thought about it until he typed it but his father's acceptance and his willingness to volunteer made sense to him. Eamon shook his head and typed out another message.

[Besides when have you ever known anyone in this family to think of themselves before others? If it bothers you, you should talk to him about it. - Eamon]

He set his phone down and focused on his dinner.

Lidarion: Page 36

With water and fire the Titans found themselves facing a new and particularly difficult challenge. Water and fire naturally possessed a will, an elemental consciousness that while vastly different and less complex than true sentience, was still a very dangerous and difficult obstacle.

Ultimately the Titans chose to change the rules. They crafted a container of glass and container of stone. They filled the glass container with water, and the stone with fire. They infused the sealed containers with energy and absolutely nothing happened. Undeterred they set the containers aside and recorded them as failures.

Sometime later the Titans were surprised to find physical creatures breaking through and emerging from the containers. From the glass a winged lizard of electric and ice blue emerged. It chilled the room and waves crashed in the ears of all who heard the flap of its wings. From the Stone an ember orange and furious winged lizard emerged. If it weren't for the differences in color and temperature they could have been twins.

The Titans learned quickly that the dragons could not or would not allow themselves to be tamed. As they got older they grew larger and the Titans accepted the fact control of the creatures was not possible. The larger they grew, the more explosive their bursts of anger became. When they finally chose to take to the open skies None of the Titans tried to stop them.

With the elemental guardians freely roaming the planet, the Titans once again turned their attention to the business of their own extinction. They had, during the ancient war turned a small mountain into a crypt for the Titans that passed on. Now as their time was coming to a close more and more of them longed to take their place in the mountain crypt. During the war many people had seen Titans take their final walk or be carried into the mountain. A legend filtered through out the fledgling races that to place some of the bones of your ancestors along this road brought great fortune to your family in the mortal realm and great peace to them in the afterlife, thus the bone road was born and over the years small towns had popped up along the bone road and even grew plentiful.

Driven as a race to create the elemental paragons, the Titans stopped walking the bone road. The other races began to notice a change on the road, and a darkness coming from the mountain crypt and as time passed the towns dried up and people left the mountain crypt and the road of bones to the darkness. But with their mission complete, the Titian's finally returned to the crypt they had very nearly abandoned.

They were not prepared for what they discovered in the darkness.

Melody and Harmony: Page 10

The sun was coming up and Foster had been rolling around town and ignoring his phone for five hours. He didn't want to talk to Junker, little Tod, or Daniel. He was smart enough to know he was never going to be a full member of the Windward Sails but he was also furious because people he thought of as friends seemed perfectly content to string him along.

An hour after he left the diner he had stopped long enough to tear the almost three year old Windward Sails pledge patch off his jacket. It felt like he was tearing off his own skin. Windward Sails was his fathers church. He had grown up around and come of age properly thanks to these men and their betrayal hurt him deeply. It also left him without protection or income and he needed both.

Getting a job like his brother and finding a new club made him equally sick to his stomach. His mind swirled in chaotic circles. What to do? Where to go? What to do? Where to go? The longer her rode the tighter the mental circles became.

The sun was coming up and Foster saw a piece of paper was stuck to the left front wheel of his board. He stopped and crouched down to grab is off his wheel. Before he tossed it away a name caught his eye.

Neon Halo was playing a festival. Setting Sails and many other bands from many other sects were going to be there but Neon Halo was the prize. He could finally experience New Wave Retro live and in person rather than the bootlegs he had siphoned from the feed. He could go without retribution or questions or bringing shame to his family. His father's father's father was pirate rock royalty and the line would remain unbroken for generations to come, or so his father had decreed before his death.

The paper had distracted him to the point that he had lost track of his surroundings, so when the door to his left open he was caught completely off guard. Four industrial goth's came out of the building and practically ran right into Foster. The male in the lead was dressed all in white.

The sun was coming up and Foster was going to die.

Spoonerville: Page 8

Derek and Vivian didn't live in the middle of nowhere because Spoonerville was the middle of nowhere and their house was a 9 minute drive from outside the Spoonerville city limits. And when you're in the middle of nowhere, nine minutes is a long drive.

Paved state roads gave way to to private gravel four minutes outside of town. The design philosophy of the entire state centered around building into and around the wilderness so their private gravel road was a roller coaster of curves and turns.

The house didn't appear until the last second. IT was designed to blend into it's surroundings that way. Once you saw it though, it slowly began to betray the secrets of its own elegance. The longer you looked at it the beautiful it became.

Vivian pulled into the paved driveway and into the open section of their three car garage. She hit the button to close the garage door and shut the car off. They got out of the car in silence and went into the house.

Derek took off his backpack and dropped it by the door. He hung his jacket up and dropped his keys on a shelf above his bag at the same time his sister deposited her keys and purse. The walked down the short entry hallway, through the kitchen and into the living room to a huge double set of sliding glass doors. Behind the glass doors was an Olympic size swimming pool, complete with a waterfall, small beach, and a giant sun lamp that kept the room around 80 degrees. The pool room had no windows and from the outside appeared to be a giant hill behind the house.

The siblings stripped down to the swimsuits they had on under there clothes. Derek was a storm of flying fabric until he hit the water. Vivian leaned against the wall and lifted her right boot off the ground and pulled the zipper down until the boot practically dropped off her foot, revealing a shimmering fin on the outside of her leg. It started just below her knee, and ended just above her ankle and hand a wide range of flexibility to open and close. She took her left boot off and revealed her other fin and flexed it and rolled her ankle. Without further delay she dove into the pool and dolphin kicked the entire length of the pool twice before returning to the surface.

Her brother was already sunning himself on the beach. his fins spread all the way out. "There's no place like home" He said smiling at her.

Shades of Justice: Page 40

The breach between universes was closed.

The hand of Tha'ral Da had been destroyed.

The Earth had been saved.

Mark and the other Shades of Justice had won. Two entire universes still existed because of their victory against the darkness.

Cassie and Gwen got married. Arthur gave the best man speech. Mark sat in the back at the open bar with a neglected scotch and watched sadly as his friends shared their love with their friends and family. People who could never know what they had done, didn't want to know what they had done.

Eli started his own business and went public within a year. He moved to Seattle and the stock reports on cable news became his preferred form of communication.

Without Dale around Mark felt lost. The funeral had been small. His parents had been simple, quiet, sad people and the loss of their son only amplified the quiet, sad, simplicity of their lives. The fact that they would never know that he was one of Earth's greatest heroes burned in Marks chest like a tiny sun.

Mark went to college. Lumarion paid for everything. In fact the Shades wanted for nothing now. Compensation for two hard years of service. Years that Mark missed.

He checked in with Technarious and Lumarion regularly. Even as word from the others became increasingly infrequent. At first it was an act of duty, but as the months became years it became an act of self preservation. A constant reminder that he wasn't crazy and had once been a part of something very important.

Carrie and Gwen invited everyone to Hawaii. Mark politely declined and when Technarious found out he teleported Mark straight to the resort instantly.

Mark had seen the ocean before. A family vacation to California when he was in the fourth grade. He didn't remember it being anything special. This ocean was different, or perhaps this Mark was different.

The seven day trip passed like a dream. He learned to surf, they went hiking and explore the island, they played games and sunbathed, he spent as much time as he could justify on the beach alone with the ocean. He flew home from Hawaii closer to some semblance of peace than he could ever remember being before.

Ten days later he was back, and did not leave for a long time.

Blood and Profit: Page 63

The session, and more specifically the coming reality they discussed during the session, started as an acidic lump in her throat. They did not have enough ships to get everyone off the planet. The lump in her throat sank to her stomach and flipped over when it became clear that even if they had enough ships, the didn't have enough protein generators or protein packs to get the population safely to Earth. Simply put, they were not ready to leave and would not be ready for some time.

And time was their truest enemy. There were plans within plans to steal as much time as they could, but she worried what they would be giving up in exchange. Most manufacturing was already automated. and they were shown that all automation had already been re-purposed to turning out huge star liners, but it would be weeks or even months before any of them were ready to launch with sites working 24/7.

In the meantime. there were three hundred million people to help solve the problem of the protein generators and packs The plan made Kepi's stomach twist violently and not just because it was Fletcher that proposed it.

As usual he did not stand. "We have all we need to solve our current dilemma." He began. "The Corporations have already set aside their own interests in service of the common good, we cannot afford to ask any less of the rest of the citizenship." He leaned forward and raised his giant hand to silence the growing murmurs of the room. "We must re-purpose a majority of the population to the goals of preparing for our escape. I am certain that it will not be hard to convince them." He said flatly.

Kepi avoided speaking for fear her stomach had more control over her mouth than her mind did. One of the other representatives spoke up. "Who gets, re-purposed first?" They asked.

Fletcher leaned back in his chair. "A draft system has been in place for years now, all we need to do is set the selection parameters People already listed in manual labor jobs relating to our direct short or long term survival, can be weeded out. I suggest we start pulling from the arts, sciences, and education sectors.  There will be little to no school, no research and no entertainment for a while, but in the end, we will survive." he finished.

The black walls of panic were giving Kepi tunnel vision and muffling the logistical argument in the room. YOUR PHONE her mind yelled at her. She dug it out of her pocket and looked at it. Without conscious thought her fingers moved over they keys, her heart had detached from her brain and was doing the only thing it could thing of. She sent a message to Eamon.

[E-  We don't have the ships or the supplies to get everyone to Earth. The senate is going to forcibly draft workers until we do. I can't stop this, they're starting with artists, scientists, and teachers...I'm sorry.  -K]

She hit the button and the warning was off.

Lidarion: Page 35

There is little written about the differences in difficulties of harnessing air and fire. Even less on the subject of how the Titan's discovered the solutions for each. What is know is that air was tricked.

More than anything the sky and all its citizens were free. Free in ways that no ground pounder could ever hope to comprehend. What walkers and crawlers dreamed of, fliers personified. The titans couldn't just imbue the sky the way they had done with inert stone, they needed a vessel.

By this time Humans had discovered music. Over time hollow log drums were accompanied by simple flutes and rudimentary stringed instruments. The titans took the concept of music and carved giant singing caverns filled with holes for the wind. These holes created a playful area that sang a deeply haunting tune when the wind ripped through the tunnels.

Once the wind discovered the gift, it was only a matter of filling the tunnels with energy and waiting until the wind came through in a large enough gust to be trapped in physical form.

Needless to say, no one was prepared for the raging fury of the wind's retribution. Storms tore across the planet, the result of the winds desperate attempt to free itself from captivity. Storms of such great intensity that their size and power had never before been seen, nor had they ever been seen again. In its blind rage, the wind reshaped the coast lines of the world, tore trees from the ground like fresh flowers, and wiped whole settlements from existence. None of it was enough to break the wind free.

Unlike Moun Tain who struggled against nothing more than the endless spans of quiet eternities, Ty Phune could barely stand to focus on the unbearable certainty of being physically linear. To be limited to a single direction when three hundred and sixty was just barely enough.

So the Titans sought to strike a deal. They would very nearly free the wind, in exchange for a period of service once a generation and support in times of emergency by playing 'Ty Phune's lament" on a flue of red stone. With the agreement struck, the wind was freed for a generation.

It never returned to the singing caverns again.

Melody and Harmony: Page 9

Daniel nodded. "But you did make it out." He said with a smile. "Not only that but you were able to get the package. You're quick on your feet, determined, and have a sharp mind. All things we value very highly." He assured Foster.

Foster leaned forward slightly. "Enough to finally grant my petition to join?" He asked.

Daniel smiled awkwardly and shook his head. "Not yet." He started.

Foster looked like he might start screaming but kept himself to an acidic whisper. "Two years Daniel!" He hissed. "What else could their be to consider?" He spat. Daniel shrugged and Foster sat back against the booth in frustration. "Can you at least tell me what's in the package?" He asked.

Daniel leaned forward, his eyes filled with excitement. "Never before heard Deck Hands studio recordings." He admitted with a huge smile. "From their first album!" He tried to keep his excitement to a whisper. "They were found out in the desert somewh -"

Foster exploded. "I almost died for some recordings of songs everyone's already heard!" he snapped.

Daniel held up his hands and looked around the empty diner. "Woah dude! Relax, it's not the recordings of the songs that are important, it's the stuff they recorded between the songs. The banter, the arguments, the inspirations." He smiled. "These are our saints and you've delivered them to us Foster. We owe you." He explained.

Foster nodded. "Sure you do, just not enough to make me a full member." He spat as he leaned over, shoved his hand into his pack, pulled the package out and tossed it at Daniel. Daniel almost fumbled the catch which gave Foster enough time to grab his bag and shuffle out of the booth. By the time Daniel was out of the booth Foster was at the front door. "Later Pops" He said disappearing into the night.

Pop looked to Daniel "That'll be three fifty for the pie." He said pressing the button to lock the door.

Spoonerville: Page 7

It wasn't a long walk for Rodney to get home so his Grandmother was still up puttering around the house. He hand't known her for long, in fact he had only learned of her existence after his parents had died. They had been living together for almost a month and he found her to be as cool as any old person could be. She volunteered at the local library, listened to current music and even had a pretty decent computer in her home. He still wasn't super familiar with her, but after a month he was beginning to wonder why his parents never mentioned her.

He kicked his shoes off by the front door and hung his jacket on the coat rack. She came out of of the kitchen with a kitchen towel over her shoulder. "And where have you been all day and night?" She asked with a smile.

She followed him into the living room as he told her about his day. "I found the pizza place. Vivian's brother works there." He said assuming that she would know which Vivian he was talking about.

His grandmother nodded. "He doesn't just work there, he owns it." She replied.

Rodney grabbed the remote for the TV and dropped into the couch. surprised by her statement. "There's no way he owns that place grandma." He said.

She sat in her ancient recliner. "And what makes you say that?" She asked.

Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "If I were him and I owned that place, i'd be a nervous wreck and worrying about going of out business." He replied.

Grandma shook her head. "Well you ain't him. He and his sister are "independently wealthy"" She held her hands up putting air quotes around independently wealthy for Rodney's benefit.

He nodded. "They dot com'ers?" He asked flipping through channels.

Grandma shrugged. "No clue, for all the good this town's near supernatural gossip powers can do, their story is one that we've yet to uncover." she sighed.

Rodney's curiosity was piqued. "Supernatural gossip powers?" The words didn't fit any better in his mouth than they did his ears.

Grandma nodded. " You'll get used to it. Secrets in this town have a habit of becoming well known facts." She warned. "The more you want something to stay private, the quicker people seem to know all about it." She sighed. "Stay here long enough and you just stop fighting it. Everyone's lives are a matter of public record in Spoonerville." She finished.

Rodney considered this instead of listening to the souless delivery of brainless dialog to the endless delight of the laugh box that filled every episode of "The Big Bang Theory."

Shades of Justice: Page 39

Technarious's new body was laid on the table. The old was was sitting on the floor, leaned up against the side of the table like a forgotten toy.

The Shades stood around the table. Each looking from the old body, to the new body, and then around to the other Shades. Everyone was waiting for someone else to take the lead. It was Gordon who broke the silence. "Soooo, now what?" he asked fidgeting nervously with his glasses.

Warren shrugged. "Computer, are there any files or instructions in your system that explain how to transfer Technarious' consciousness unit from one body to another?" He asked.

There was slight pause. "Searching." The computer finally replied.

The tense silence returned. Mark was pacing, Dante was still sitting by Sonya's bed. Her hand was cradled in his. Mark was pacing quickly, muttering to himself.

The computer chimed in again. "There are no references to Technarious that include anything relating to mind, consciousness, or body transfer, I am sorry." The computer finished.

Mark stopped pacing and looked as if he had been struck by lightening. "It's not in the computer!" He almost shouted. Before he practically ran over to the shattered light wall. He carefully reached out and the others watched as he was able to slowly wedge his hand behind the shattered wall of crystals.


"What are you doing?" Kelly asked.

Mark gritted his teeth as he carefully felt around for what ever he was looking for. "Got it!" He shouted. He pulled the manual lever and a piece of the wall right next to his shoulders slid open. He pulled his hand out and looked inside the tiny area. The others ran over to join him. There was nothing inside the little hidden area except a book titled. 'Maintenance And Repair Manual.' Mark grabbed the book and flipped it open to the index. He ran his finger down the list until he found 'Memory unit.' and flipped to the page that was listed. He scanned the page for a second and then closed the book around his finger. Ran over to the old Technarious body. "Lift this up and place it over a console so the back of his head is up towards us." he instructed.

 Warren and Gordon grabbed the body and gently laid it over the nearest console. With his free hand Mark felt the edge of the back of Technarious' head until he found a numb, slid his pinky finger under it and was able to press a button.

From the back first, Techanious' head opened like the most intricate and detailed Tackle box ever created. layers upon layers of hardware and circuitry were exposed one layer at a time. Once the head was completely open Mark and the rest of the Shades looked inside at what they had discovered.

Warren looked to Mark. "You sure about this?" He asked.

Mark looked from the head back to the instruction manual and took a deep breath.