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  FRAGMENT

  FRAGMENT

  Alvin Atwater

  Void Publishing LLC

  2016

  Copyright © 2016 by Alvin Atwater

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

  Alvin Atwater

  PO BOX 2924

  Gulfport, MS 39505

  www.Atwaterwriting.com

  Dedication

  To my mother, my wife, my siblings, and my friends.

  Thank you. Without your support and patience, I would have never achieved my dream.

  PROLOGUE

  Chapter 1

  “I refuse, Father! This is ridiculous! My entire life will be hell living with her.” Before his reddened father could react, the boy stormed out of the house into the night woods. He didn’t want to so much as see his father’s face anymore. The boy was seventeen—old enough to make his own decisions. What gave his father the right push him down this unwanted path?

  He didn’t care whether his father chased him or not. He wanted to cool off his rage, find a way to cancel the arranged marriage, and pursue his dreams. Even if he couldn’t, to arrange the marriage with her, of all women . . . did his father want him to live the rest of his life in absolute misery? The boy refused to reminisce on the manner in which his father arranged the idea and where he did it. The thought alone was shameful.

  Abruptly, he nearly tripped on something, glowing as bright as a torch, plunged into floors of the woods. He inched toward it, curious. A sword? He’d never mistake that hilt for something else. The second he touched it, the entire world around him vanished, replaced with a white void. White nothingness paraded everywhere, even on the ground the boy walked. The air felt still. The sky didn’t exist. The silent void seemed to stretch for eternity.

  The boy pinched himself, but the relayed pain debunked his hope of a dream.

  He stood alone with the sword. He wanted to panic; his heart raced, but he knew that the sword was the obvious reason why this place existed.

  He stared at it for a while, examining every detail of it, from its golden hilt to its glistening silver blade. It looked like it belonged to a knight.

  For what felt like hours, the boy searched for a clue on the sword. He examined and re-examined, hoping to find even the smallest hope of undoing this dream-like reality.

  “Don’t tell me I’m trapped here!” he yelled, lifting the sword and plunging into the white, marble-like ground. The sword produced a wide crack that seemed to travel forever. Gas as black as midnight seeped from it, fizzling, whispering. The boy quickly backed several feet away.

  “So, at last, it found the man worthy of wielding it, interrupting my thousand-year slumber, in this zero space.” The echo of the dark voice made the boy shiver. He frantically looked around but saw nothing.

  “Over here, boy, at the miasma.”

  Miasma? The boy assumed it referred to the black gas. He gazed at it, unwilling to take another step toward the funnel.

  “What’s happening?” he finally asked after a minute of silent waiting. No reply. “Who are you?”

  Laughter, deep and dark, filled the still air. “You are quite impatient, boy. Do you not wonder how you survived in here for three days without food, water, or even a need for such human things?”

  “Three days?” the boy said. “I’ve only been here for a few hours.”

  “This is the sword’s introduction . . . Have you not learned anything?”

  “You jest about the three days—”

  “Silence boy! Jonas Ariel, you have awoken something far greater than yourself and the world you live in. Now is not the time to dwell on such petty things.”

  “Petty things?” Jonas said. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

  “You’ve got a lot to learn, boy. I suppose you can’t help it since you are just a village boy unaware of the world around you.

  However, . . . what you want no longer matters. Someone as powerful as you cannot roam around carefree like a mockingbird.”

  “Powerful as me?” Jonas said, confused.

  “You have a vast destiny awaiting, powerful enough to engulf you. However, let us discuss the now. A great calamity brews for your world, one that is bred to destroy everything you know and love. It is not something that should be taken lightly by those that know of it, but that plague is something that can be stopped, prevented. You, who have been selected by the sword, must go to Olympus, compete for King Zeus’s power, and use it to stop it—that is, if you care anything about humanity.”

  Jonas’s eyes widened.

  “If you want to leave zero space, then accept the sword’s contract.” Jonas didn’t respond, his mind wailing over the calamity, his place, the sword, and the king that lives in the skies. “I’ll take your insolent silence as a yes, lowly human. The one who observes that which shall occur will lead you to Olympus.”

  Zeus, the king of the skies, huh? Jonas knew, no his entire village knew the legend of the king of the skies.

  Chapter 2

  Comfortable winds tickled Jonas’s nose under the dazzling blue sky, surrounded by the trees of a lush wood. The air smelled of honey, pine trees, and mud. That familiar smell of the woods meant he had made it back. He somehow loved the woodland more than ever, realizing that he had taken all of its colors for granted. He wasn’t a saint or wild man, but he felt something within himself that he never felt before. However, something that bequeathed him a feeling of doom or end rested within the corners of his mind’s senses and didn’t leave.

  Jonas’s gaze drifted to the ground. The sword. He wanted nothing more to do with it. Feeling like the sword could entrap him anytime, he burst into a sprint toward his village. Several minutes later, he stopped and panted. He froze at the sight of someone he disliked, yards ahead. Sitting on a boulder, Veronica, spoiled daughter of Kager, wept. He debated whether to continue forward or circle his way to the village’s back entrance.

  Veronica was a beautiful girl, his age, with long blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in a silky summer white dress. He wanted to go around, but her tears seemed to capture him like a spell. He wanted to ignore her but couldn’t.

  This reminded him of his reason for entering the woods. That argument with his father was destined to change his life forever.

  Drunk at the tavern, his father had bragged to Kager about Jonas’s talent with a sword. Pleased, Kager struck a deal to arrange a marriage between Jonas and Veronica for promotional reasons. He offered an incredible amount of gold, enough to awaken the greed inside of Jonas’s father, for an agreement. The shock of this news enraged Jonas. He couldn’t bear the thought of spending the rest of his life with such a woman, his dreams crushed to live with a spoiled daughter of a rich man. His father had some nerve.

  Jonas did find it strange that she wept. He was convinced that this spoiled brat didn’t have a heart. He sighed, set aside his pride, and walked forward, curious. Within seconds, Veronica noticed him, wiped away her tears, and ran up to him, almost as if she wanted to jump into his arms.

  “You–you’re alive? But how?”

  “Of course . . .” He paused, recalling the words of the voice from zero space. “Everyone thinks I’m dead?”

  “Is that all you have to say for yourself, you worthless commoner! I was made a fool out of. ‘He’d rather die than marry Veronica!’” She folded her arms. “You were gone for three days without a word!”

  Annoyed, Jonas said, “Just shut up! I’ll set things straight. And it is true. I’d rather die than marry you.” He stormed into the village, followed by Veronica.

  “How dar
e you!” she snarled. “I’ll make sure you’re on your petty little commoner knees, kissing my feet, and apologizing for your insolent behavior.”

  Jonas ignored her, sped up, attempting to put as much distance as possible between the two. Villagers gasped, eyes widening, as Jonas passed them. The last thing he wanted on this nice summer day was a declaration of his funeral. When he arrived at his house, his father dropped his tools, eyes wide, nearly watering.

  “You’re a . . . alive,” he said, almost choking on his words. “Where have you been, boy? I . . . we . . .We were told by the Altimias that you were not of this world.”

  A chill tickled Jonas’s spine as he recognized that title. Only the one who saw the future wore it.

  “He was right,” Jonas admitted. “I was in some strange place but not the land of the dead.”

  “You can explain that later,” his father boomed. “I’ll inform everyone.” He placed a hand on Jonas’s shoulder. “You must go to your mother. Surely she weeps again by the waterfall.”

  Without hesitation, Jonas raced toward the location of the waterfall, leaving Veronica behind to complain to his father. Along the way, villagers gasped and whispered at the sight of Jonas. He felt like this alone was proof that the Altimias’s words were powerful. The Altimias was a famous but mysterious priest, and Jonas was still amazed that someone like that would speak publicly of his name.

  When Jonas reached the waterfall, he noticed his mother picking cooking berries from a bush and dropping them into her basket. Her sluggish movement made her look as if she had aged thirty years since he last saw her. Jonas thought she’d fall over at any moment.

  “Mother,” Jonas called. She dropped the basket as she quickly turned to him, eyes wide, covering her mouth. Within seconds, her arms were wrapped around Jonas in a tight hug, and she was crying. “I thought you were . . .” She did not finish the sentence, hugging her only child tightly. She let go. “I thought God punished your father for making such an imprudent decision.” Jonas’s gaze hit the ground. “Jonas?”

  “The Altimias was right,” he replied. “I was not of this

  world . . . not the land of the dead . . . but.”

  “You do not belong in this world,” said a voice. A few feet ahead of them stood a man in a red cloak, only his long, gray beard visible. The Altimias. Holding a long, wooden staff, he walked over to the waterfall’s edge. “Do you know why this waterfall does not roar?”

  Jonas looked at the waterfall. He never thought about its silence until now. How could a fifty-foot waterfall release water without making any sound? Its pure waters glistened with mysteriousness; no wonder his mother visited this place often.

  “Who gave you the right to say that my son doesn’t belong to this world?”

  “Liza Ariel, can you not feel it?” the Altimias replied. “As his mother, you should be able to feel his radiating destiny.” The Altimias knelt at the river that ran from the waterfall, and dipped his hands into the water. Jonas’s eyes widened as he saw him pull out the sword from before. “This waterfall is a gateway to Olympus, just for you. And this wonderful sword will always be loyal to you.”

  The Altimias walked toward Jonas. Jonas backed away, fearful of the blade. He felt that its possible anger could send him back into zero space to rot for eternity.

  “You shouldn’t back away, Jonas, as you were born with immense power.”

  “With all due respect, don’t come near me with that,” Jonas said, nervous. “I don’t know about power or destiny or whatever. Just stay away.”

  The Altimias stopped and shifted his intense gaze to Liza. She understood little of the situation, only confused that Jonas, a talented swordsman, backed away from a sword.

  “You gave birth to the only human capable of inheriting King Zeus’s will and power. I know you don’t want to see him go, but his actions will determine the fate of this realm.”

  “Who are you really?” Jonas challenged. “How do you know all of this?”

  “You recognize my title and my sight very well, Jonas, even if you do not want to admit it. You should know that you cannot escape this fate. However, it is not bad. Embrace it. You’ll go through hardships but will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.” He continued toward Jonas, who finally stopped backing away, and offered him the sword again. “Do not be afraid. All of this may be sudden, but destiny planned this from the moment you were born. By going on this journey, you will not only save this land but also become something so great that even the king of kings will respect you. Show everyone that even a village boy can carry the will of a king and succeed.”

  Liza smiled at her son. “I believe in you.”

  Jonas took a deep breath and accepted the sword.

  Chapter 3

  A man with long black hair, dressed in a black cloak, matching pants, and black shoes, stepped outside of his stone fortress. Outlining the edge of his cloak glowed a strange black substance similar to light. Something seemed to radiate from this man, but he did not pay attention to it. This man hated everything around him—especially nature; however, his hatred rarely showed on his expressionless face. He stepped from the concrete deck to his luscious lawn and watched all of the green grass instantly blacken, the moment his shoes touched it.

  “Guard,” he said with no pitch in his voice. Five feet before him, a puddle of black slime appeared. It bubbled as it morphed into a man dressed in spiky black armor.

  “I am here, Lord Abaddon,” the guard said as he bowed, afraid to stare at his master’s pale and expressionless face.

  Abaddon walked past his guard, stopped by a large rose, and touched its petal. All of the petals blackened in response to his touch.

  “A woman who receives this rose shall be unhappy instead of happy,” he said without turning to the guard. “Only a deceitful woman would take joy in this rose. Only a house of darkness would relish it. This black rose, an omen of death, will serve as a personification of my wrath.” Abaddon turned to the guard. “How close are we to discovering it?” The guard gulped. “I can tell by that stiff attitude that we have not found a trail.” Abaddon touched another rose, watching its color fade as if it was entertainment. “Try harder to find a lead. The sooner it is found, the faster I can restore my power.”

  “Yes, Lord Abaddon,” the guard said. “I will mobilize another squad to check—”

  “Silence!” The guard trembled a bit under his armor. He knew Abaddon rarely yelled. “Listen carefully. An acquisition like this should be simple for my guards. You are pushing me to the point of mobilizing just my elites, and if I have to mobilize any of them, I will personally destroy and replace every one of you in the guard because you are clearly showing that doing your job is impossible. Now go and put some effort into finding it instead of goofing off.”

  “Yes, Lord Abaddon!” The guard morphed back into a puddle of slime, and vanished. Abaddon sighed. He’d rather not rebuild his entire guard, but they irritated him. Why should he let them waste his time?

  “I will break this curse and kill all of those who mocked me with it.”

  Chapter 4

  Jonas felt awkward at the dinner table. Gathered at dinner were his mother, father, Veronica, and Kager. He found it difficult to tune into the conversation due to his thoughts of destiny and this Olympus place, only spoken of in legends.

  Jonas could hardly believe that he was involved in something way over his head. It felt unreal, like an unnoticed draft into a king’s army.

  He glanced at everyone around the table. They now ate in silence. Liza scowled at her husband. He looked away, uncomfortable from her wrath.

  “Shall we discuss the proposal right now, Nathan?” Kager said, hoping to pull his friend away from the rage of his wife.

  “Explain it this instant,” Liza snarled. She turned to Jonas. “I also want to hear your input on this.”

  “I had nothing to do with it,” Jonas explained without looking at his father. He wanted to say more but held back the insul
ts that swam at the tip of his tongue.

  “We came up with this idea that could allow your son to put his worthy sword skills to use while ensuring him the brightest of futures,” Kager started. “But in order to enter my business, he has to take on the family name. And there is only one way it can happen.”

  “How ridiculous! A son cannot be married away against his will,” Liza argued.

  “Well fine then,” Kager said, unwilling to argue with Liza any further. “What do you say, boy? A beautiful wife and a glorious job? Not a bad proposal, right?”

  Jonas felt fury stir within him, so much that he simply wanted Kager to vanish.

  “I refuse,” he said with a voice that was barely short of yelling.

  “What?” Veronica hissed in a voice that sounded surprised. She looked at her father as if hoping for guidance, then back at Jonas. “Are you saying you, a . . . worthless commoner, are too good for me?” She banged her fists against the wooden table, nearly knocking over its candles. Jonas’s face reddened with anger; however, he held back his poisonous words out of respect for his family.

  “The Altimias can see the future; surely you’re aware of this, Kager,” Jonas said.

  “And what does that have to do with this?” he said.

  “Just listen. My disappearance for three days is just the start of what would happen if I were to stay here. There is a calamity coming to the world, one that promises a plague like no other. I alone must search for the way to stop it. The Altimias was very vague; he didn’t want to tell me everything, but everything that happened served as solid proof of what’s to come. My presence here may even bring upon the end twice as fast.”

  “That sounds absurd!” Kager snarled as he stood up. “Have you gone mad, boy?”