OKAY! Here is my rewritten first chapter.
On Friday, I'm going to put up the rewritten fortieth chapter.
On Monday, I'll put the newest chapter
on G+, not Hammerfest.I want to give everyone at least a week's worth of warning. Get in touch with me so I can update you privately... mostly because I haven't shown my friends my story because it's not done, and... well, compare this chapter to the original. (I can do better now, don't judge me for my past work!
)
A girl reclined on the grass next to the stream, trailing her hand in the clear water. A minnow nibbled at her fingertips. A panicked shout pierced the tranquil mood. “Maria!”
The girl sat up. The minnow swam away.
“Someone help me!”
Ugh, really? She rolled her eyes. Nobody could miss the brown against the green, unless they weren't watching where they were going. Well, they could help themselves this time. That would teach them to be more careful. After all, the mud pits were only four feet feet deep, usually. Not that lethal to humanoids, except midgets and kids. Nobody was stupid enough to bring a-
“Grab my hand! Maria, can you hear me?!”
The girl got to her feet. Something didn't sound right, even assuming the guy was claustrophobic. She began to slowly walk towards the shouts, somewhat begrudgingly.
“Someone help my sister!” A rock dropped in her stomach. Maria must've been his little sister, and she was in over her head. The girl broke into a run, berating herself all the way.
I'm such an idiot! I should've started running the first time he yelled. I just hope I'm not too late. She quickly snatched a whistle from her belt and blew as hard as her shortness of breath would allow. The sound it emitted would bring a Guardian. Hopefully. She burst out of the trees into a small clearing, which was picturesque save for the one brown spot, about seven feet in diameter. Much to her shock, the young man previously crouching by the mud leaped in.
He had better be tall, I can't drag someone his size through that mud. Without losing a moment, she dropped the whistle, and pulled a hunting knife from her belt before she took the belt and cloak off and threw them back the way she had come as she rapidly approached the edge of the pit. She quickly sliced the thickest vine she judged long enough, dropped the knife, wrapped the vine around her wrist, closed her eyes and dived into the gritty death trap.
I hope this works. It was her worst nightmare; as far as horrible deaths go, drowning in dirt was near the top of her list. The pit itself was at least twice as deep as it should have been. She felt around in the mud, searching for the movements of a thrashing, panicked child. Nothing. Not good, Maria must've passed out from lack of air. Ah-ha! The girl felt a small figure suspended in the mire, like a preserved specimen in a museum or laboratory. She pushed off the wall of the pit in an upwards slant, pulling as hard as she dared on the vine. She felt more tension on the vine. The young man must have seen it pull taut, climbed out and pulled. Now, she just hoped he didn't pull hard enough to snap it.
Something hard smacked her in the face. A branch that fell in? No, it was too strong and smooth and thick. A walking stick! Far better than a vine, any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Assuming someone else had a good grip on it. The girl released the vine and grabbed the stick, praying she wouldn't lose her grip. The one holding the other end pulled; a controlled, steady, firm pull that didn't yank the stick out of her hand or her arm out of it's socket. She and the child were pulled free from the bog with a sucking sound and a pop as it released them. She felt a cloth clearing the mud away from her eyes, ears, and mouth. “Help her,” she ordered with the first breath of air in her lungs.
“Our best healer is doing everything he can," a deep, calm, mature man's voice assured her. "I trust him with my life. You've done quite enough for now."
“That's what you think,” she muttered as she took the cloth and finished cleaning the mud from her face.
“My name is Justin. What do you call yourself?” he asked.
She just looked at him for a moment. Who were these people? “Silvia,” she finally answered.
Justin nodded, “Good to meet you,” and went over to the medic, who appeared to have finished. “How is she doing, Avery?”
Avery smiled as he began repacking his medical box. “She should be just fine. Of course, she needs to drink plenty of fluids to flush out the stuff she swallowed, and...” He opened a huge bottle of evil-smelling sludge. “Some of this, slightly diluted–”
All the men, fifteen in number, began protesting. “Aw, not that, Avery.”
“She's just a kid.”
“We all know you love that stuff, but it's not a cure-all!”
“
I can barely choke that down.”
“Okay, I was nice until now, but it smells rotten and tastes worse!”
“Don't make her drink that!”
Avery glared at them all. "This particular plant has massive medicinal qualities!”
“Such as?" one challenged.
“Well, uh...it's, uh...”
Justin stepped between the two. “We know you are an excellent healer, and we take your suggestions seriously. However, the liquified
laitha plant is much too strong for her. After all, we could hardly drink it ourselves, it's medicinal proprieties are so strong– isn't that
right?” The men took their cue.“Oh, yeah, it's amazing.”
“Yep.”
“It's true.”
Avery grumbled to himself as he recorked the bottle. “Ungrateful kids.”
Silvia rolled her eyes. Obviously, the doctor was a strong believer in his home remedy, and Justin and his troop humored him. Now, where was the moron who brought the child to this place?
There he is. His physique was manly, but up close, he looked more like a boy. He was covered in mud up to his chin and was– crying? Well, he was probably one of the sensitive imbeciles who were infiltrating male society. Men should never cry at the drop of a hat; that was for girls, and men should be strong for their sake. And tears were no excuse for carelessness, especially with a minor in his responsibility. Silvia felt justified in what she was about to do. She marched up to him and jumped off the social cliff. “Are you out of your
mind? Why would you bring your sister here, of all places? How could you be so careless? There is absolutely no reason why you shouldn't have been at least holding her hand! You... you idiotic, childish, moronic..!”
He was speechless. At seventeen years of age, Silvia was cursed to have one of those faces which made her look younger than she was, and happened to be rather short. She looked about fifteen. Essentially, a little girl was chewing him out. A little girl with an excellent command of derogatory accusations.
The group of men– hunters, presumably –were temporarily forgotten until one of them spoke with a voice of wonderment. “You're that girl who shouted at Elder Cedric–”
She spun around and shot him a look that said
back off. “So what if I am? He deserved it, but was so used to being respected no one else had the guts to do it.” She turned back to the boy. "As for you...words cannot describe what I'd like to convey to you, you irresponsible, crying, weird little imbecile of a...!"
The hunter continued to be stunned. “You were put under house arrest for a week after you kicked him in the–”
“And it was worth every second,” she paused long enough to snap. “Now I realize you may have heard lots of stories about me, but will you kindly shut up 'till I'm gone? I'm busy.”
Justin was not greatly known for his patience in such situations. “You have an incredible lack of respect for your superiors.”
Silvia glared at him. “I don't respect anyone who thinks they deserve it without merit, especially when they have no idea what they're talking about. That boy–”
“I'm eighteen!” His protest sounded more injured than indignant.
“Oh, even better!” she rejoined scornfully. “A freshman in the course of life who has no idea how to read a map, navigate a forest or recognize a mud pit when he sees it. You're just incredibly fortunate that I was around, or that little girl would be dead, do you understand? D-E-A-D. Next time, you can just pray to whatever powers-that-be for help.”
“Who are you to be yelling at me? You're just a kid yourself!”
It took exactly half a second for her to realize that nothing she said would make a difference to him anymore; he felt she was younger, therefore he had the superiority of wisdom-gaining experience– never mind that she had probably done and learned and said three times more in her shorter life than he had in his longer one. He wouldn't listen, so this was a pointless waste of time. She shook her head and threw her hands in the air. “Fine, whatever. The situation is under control, I'm out.”
She turned her back to the group and picked up the knife she had dropped, while simultaneously reflecting on the recent events. The mud pit was much deeper than it looked. This should never have happened, but for somebody's negligence. It should have been filled in, or at least covered by the Area's Guardian.
“Where do you think you're going, young lady?”
“
Away, before the sheer amount of idiocy here infects me!” she snapped.
The hunter who had recognized her tried to stop Justin. “Maybe we should let her go.”
A pixie sitting in a tree shrugged and spoke for the first time. “A good riddance.”
Silvia stopped in her tracks. “You wouldn't happen to be the special Guardian around here, would you?” she asked in the most innocent of voices.
“I am.” The foolish pixie actually sounded smug, like she didn't know an insult when she heard one. Silvia took note of the pixie's attractive features, and altered her voice to sound as though she was in the presence of a celebrity. “I've heard about your beauty, but you are beyond description,” she said in a voice tinged with awe. “What's your name?”
“Norma,” she smiled. Silvia smiled back, but in such a way that sent chills down one's spine. “I'm going to report you unfit for duty.”
The pixie blinked. “What?”
Silvia turned and continued walking away.
“Wha- come back here!”
The girl ignored her, totally unsympathetic to her situation. Now Silvia just had to anonymously report a Guardian Norma of Area 2319 irresponsible, and unhelpful. That should keep her in a position where her carelessness will do less harm. She was aware of what they were probably thinking about her, but she was past caring. She did once, but not anymore.
Another young man had been passing by and caught most of the dialog. He stayed out of sight and observed quietly. The girl, Silvia, was small. She had long, straight black hair in a braid down to the small of her back; she wore a green cloak, boots, and a long green tunic with black leggings. A thick black belt circled her hips, and her hunting knife and whistle hung on it opposite a small pouch.
Justin was a big man with definite authority, and the only one to wear a broadsword.
The hunters had t-shirts, jeans or cargo pants, boots, and various personal customizations. They carried tough backpacks with supplies as well as their weapon of choice.
The pixie wore a light pink dress, made of a substance very much like silk, with matching slippers.
I guess if you fly around all the time, you can afford to float in a cloud of flimsy fabric, he thought.
The newcomer's name was Jason. His hair was black. His eyes were strikingly bright green. He wore black boots, blue jeans, and a black t-shirt under a long black trench coat. He carried nothing but a sword at his side, and had a suspicion that not all was as it seemed.
He decided to jump in. “So, your name is Silvia, is it?”
She had retrieved her belongings at this point. She glared at him, as though demanding demanding he have a good reason to keep her from leaving. “Actually, it's not. Why do you care?”
Curious now, he wondered how she would respond to a taste of her own medicine. “Oh, I don't. I just wondered how someone with a face like yours could get such a pretty name. It didn't match.” “You're a fine one to talk, Mr. I'm-so-cool-I-don't-even-need-to-introduce-myself-because-I'm-oh-so-charming. Well, you're not as witty as you think you are, and you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that you'd better know something.”
Wow. Most girls tripped all over themselves trying to get him interested, so he knew they found him attractive. Yet, she found something to mock without missing a beat.
But why? “And besides,” she continued, “I don't remember inviting you to talk, but I do recall that I was leaving.” She turned on her heel and marched back towards the stream. Who did he think he was, butting in where he wasn't invited? He must have been arrogant, assuming she would fall head over heels for him, or just really stupid. Honestly, she was not impressed. By the average tittering girl's standards, he was probably considered 'drop dead gorgeous'. Pathetic. He had a shallow look about him, and considering the first words out of his mouth was likely an overbearing blockhead. And that girls probably found him attractive? It defied imagination. 'Oh, what a cool sword! I couldn't lift it off the ground. You must be very strong'. Silvia shuddered inwardly at the idea. Then she looked back to deliver a parting shot. “I guess I should be thanking you all.”
“For what?” the pixie snapped.
“For reminding me why I left.”
That was it. That was supposed to be her last word, to leave them with a cryptic one-liner for them to mull over. But the featherbrained pixie couldn't leave it alone. “Did you just insult me?” she shrilled. Silvia wasn't even going to dignify that with an answer.
Jason smothered a laugh. He could see her seething, probably entertaining thoughts of stringing Norma upside down in a tree, hands bound and gagged. Then he saw a shadow with wings. “Heads up!” he shouted. The hunters instantly glanced skyward and responded; Avery lunged for Maria, scooping her up and shielding her with his body. As for everyone else, Justin barked an order, “Defense pattern six!” and the hunters dove for cover in a circular pattern amongst the trees.
Silvia reacted, but didn't really believe that there was immediate danger at first; a few seconds later she regretted not moving faster. Maria's brother just stood there, open-mouthed, staring into a dragon's fiery, raging eyes. Dragons were not sentient creatures, but they were cunning and extremely vicious when hunting, or dealing with trespassers. The men didn't see the dragon's face until they were already hidden, and that was too far away to help the boy. Silvia picked up a fairly straight, pointed stick, aimed at its face (where the softer scales were), and threw it like a javelin– hard. She could swear it winced. Then it shoved what it perceived to be harmless, the boy, aside with it's tail; an experience somewhat akin to being swept aside by a small tree. The dragon leaped over Silvia's head, intending to swipe at her and vanish into the forest, preferring to attack its prey from the shadows.
The girl being small, its leap was very low, and its tail skimmed the ground. She dodged the claws, but the tail caught her and smashed her to the forest floor. Her head hit the ground, and stars exploded against red tinged vision for an instant, then everything went black.
Suddenly, bright sunlight blinded her. She winced at the sharp pain as it suddenly struck, and vanished instantly.
A tall, lanky man laughed at her. “That's what you get for sitting in the shade all day.” He leaned back against a large rock, closed his eyes, and patted the grass next to him. “Come, the sunlight feels nice once you get used to it. Besides, you'll be able to tell when the sun will pop out from behind the cloud before it catches you off-guard.”
She came forward, stepping out from the leafy shadows of an apple tree, and hesitated. A summer breeze stirred the grass and ruffled his prematurely silver hair. He opened his eyes, and beckoned her closer. He smiled. Smiled
to her, not
at her. It was pleasant, and familiar. It felt nice. Like she was special. She had a friend. So everything she vaguely remembered was just a nightmare.
She sank into the grass next to him, close enough that he could reach over and gently tug her hair if he wanted. She knew his name. “Cyrus, tell me about the aliens.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Why did I ever tell you about that?”
“I'm fourteen now, you promised!”
“I don't know. Alyssa doesn't like me telling you stories...”
“Pleeeease...?” She adopted the most pitiful look she could muster.
He laughed. “That right there could melt a heart of stone. Oh... alright. I suppose it couldn't hurt. You're old enough.”
She sat up and turned to face him, paying explicit attention to his every word. He pretended not to notice, and looked up at the clouds dreamily. “Now, let's see...
“Once upon a time, there was a psychopath. He decided humans caused everything around us (including us) to suffer unnecessarily, and that we needed to start from scratch. Without humans, nature would no longer be poisoned or ravaged, and the animals would be on equal footing again; the hunters, no longer being slain or imprisoned by humans, could keep the others in check so they wouldn't multiply beyond control.”
“Makes sense,” she commented.
Cyrus lowered his eyes to meet hers. “But all humans would die. You, me, Alyssa, everyone. Bad and good alike.” He plucked a wildflower from the ground. “This flower is a little worse for wear; it's missing a petal, and its leaves have been nibbled at. That flower is perfect, and this dry little thing was once a flower, too. Most of the flowers here are imperfect in some way. Does that mean we should set the whole field on fire? Flowers, grass, insects, everything?”
“Well... no...”
“The most awful part was that he saw it as an act of mercy for him to end everything so nothing would suffer anymore. Just because some people hurt others, themselves and the environment, he decided
all living things had to die.”
“How could he–“
“Listen, and I'll tell you. Now, nobody thought he was a bad person, even those who were his friends. He proclaimed that the era of peace was at hand, and successfully obtained the signatures of the world leaders for a peace treaty. That would be like uniting all the Elders of every City.
“In that time, there were things called nuclear missiles, and their destructive power was horrifying. A single one could easily wipe out a City if it detonated in the center. As part of the peace treaty, all nuclear formulas had to be shared, so nobody would have more power than anybody else.”
“What if they all got mad and used them to fight?”
“What you're describing is called a Nuclear Holocaust. The psychopath had taken this possibility into account. He created a computer virus to erase all data containing the formulas; it was totally harmless to everything but nuclear data. Everyone had to stick the flash drive with the virus into their computers.”
“What if they hid a computer?”
“He anticipated that, also. He was a brilliant man, and hired these... well, I guess we could call them ninjas... to hit all the computers they could find with the virus. When people pulled out the hidden computers and found them wiped, they couldn't complain because then everyone would know they'd lied. He announced that some people had hidden computers, but luckily the virus was racing through the internet and wiped all that data, too! Every bit of data on a computer with an internet connection was wiped! A lie, but one which no one could prove or deny. He had many mages cast a massive spell to erase the memories of the data from everyone's minds, so the people with very good or photographic memories couldn't draw up the plans.
“There were some missiles which had already been made before the directions were destroyed. According to the peace treaty, they had to be diffused and dismantled. Because nobody trusted anybody else, everyone had to send the missiles to the psychopath so he could take care of them. He had his ninjas steal the missiles the countries tried to hide.
“Little did anyone know, he planned to strategically drop them all over the entire planet– are you sure Alyssa won't have a problem with this story?”
“Cyrus, I'm fourteen! Don't treat me like I'm six.”
He chuckled, “I know, I know. I was just teasing you. Now where was I? Ah, yes. Just one push of a button from the Apocalypse. There was a scientist, the psychopath's brother-in-law, who had gotten wise to the situation and was helpless to stop it. He was a genius in the lab, on paper, with machines, in theories of time and space. However, he possessed almost every quirk known to man, and a few more. Fear of public speaking, germs, enclosed areas, crowds, heights, bugs, milk-”
“Milk?” she interrupted incredulously.
“Yes, milk. He lacked the charisma, presentations skills, and connections to make anyone listen. Even if he had, he knew he wouldn't have been able to talk loud enough or fast enough to be safe from the psychopath's assassins. There was only one thing he could think of to save us all; his alternate reality machine. He thought he could send the inhabitants of this planet to another reality... you don't know what I'm talking about, do you?”
She made a face. “Come on, Cyrus. I've read science fiction. I know what an alternate reality is.” She sat up very straight and spoke in a high, arrogant voice, imitating an adult's tone and cadence. “'An alternate reality is a parallel universe in which one or more elements differed from the original universe, creating a cascade effect which altered many other aspects so the entire world became different.' ...Or something like that.”
Cyrus nodded. “Yes, very good. Now, some aliens had been observing us for hundreds of years, selecting what they thought to be the best of our society and storing it. They studied our history, psychology, philosophy, literature, agriculture, technology, and simulated the best combinations for a world they thought possible. One that would work, a harmonized existence with ourselves that we wouldn't tear to pieces. They abducted some humans occasionally to test the accuracy. Those that were not compatible were returned to the beds from which they were taken, (and the program adjusted) and upon waking assumed their experience to be a dream. Some that believed it to be real were few, and dismissed as mentally unstable.
“Once the well-intentioned scientist had accidentally melded our reality with a fantasy land, they initiated their plan. They transferred us to a space outpost and put us into a mass cryogenic sleep. The animals went to another and the plants yet another. Then they fixed our world as much as they could, then created the city bubbles.”
“The what?”
“Well, that's what they look like, don't they? I call the transparent domes energy bubbles. They provide power and serve as a shield against the forces of nature, and protect nature from us. Cities stay in the huge bubbles, and are not overrun by animals or vegetation. Nobody knows where all the power really comes from, but for lack of any other explanation, we think it's recycled power of some sort, possibly solar energy.”
“Silvia!” A faint voice was trying to reach her, but this was so interesting...
“She...not...going...make it.” “Keep trying...” “What's wrong? Is Alyssa calling you?”
“I...I don't think so.”
“Silv...can...hear me?” “Are you sure?” Cyrus looked concerned. She tried to ignore the interruptions. “Yeah, I'm fine. You were saying?”
Cyrus gave her a sidelong glance, but let it go. “Well... After they created the bubbles, they recreated the animal's habitats and replanted the all the plants. Then they released the animals in their respective homes.” A butterfly landed on his arm, and he smiled at it. “I almost forgot about you. They also chose some of every type of bug they thought necessary for pollination, aerating the soil, and for our mutual enjoyment. And some predatory species, like spiders, to prevent the insects from overrunning the planet. That was one of the first things they learned from their simulations. However, they saw no need to reintroduce pests like fleas and mosquitoes.. but the little parasites lived on in the soil, and hung on long enough to welcome us back. Pity, too.”
“Can you hear me?” “Losing her...!” “Then what?”
“Then... you don't look well. We should go back.”
“Come on, Cyrus! I've waited
years to hear this story!”
“I've already told you all the interesting parts, and the rest is history.”
She waited.
“All right, all right, fine. The aliens decided that the best way to manage us was to monitor us. They divided the woods between the bubbles into sections, or areas. Then they numbered them and placed Posts in the center of each. The Posts have touch pads to scan your fingerprint; every time you use your fingerprint, where you were and what you did is added to your record. If you touched a Post in a forest, it would log who touched which Post and when; when you used it to access an Area map or call for help, that would be registered, too.”
“Why?”
“Because. If someone needs help, but don't have any way to contact anyone, a Post is an instant connection to the nearest City and/or Guardian. Keeping a record prevents people from misusing the system.”
“Like those boys who ring doorbells and run away?”
“Exactly. Calling up a map is fine, but summoning a Guardian for no reason is not. Such things happen rarely, because if you're caught abusing the system, you are shipped off to a cell on the space station they left in orbit. Robots take care of the prisoners, providing sustenance and anything they want (within reason) to pass the time.”
“Why don't more people want to go there?”
“Because you have no human contact at all, save for the prisoner in the cell across from you. The force fields are mostly transparent, but soundproof. Humans are social creatures who crave interaction, even if one never talks to or communicates with the other. It's a scientific fact that people go crazy from long periods of complete and total isolation, with nothing and no one to keep them occupied.”
“So the stuff the robots give you and person in the other cell are all that keep you from going crazy.”
“Indeed. What was I talking about before... Areas! That was it. The Posts divide the world into Areas. You belong in one Area unless you have a traveler's pass, which is added to your personal information; without it, the Arch (the door through the bubble) will not recognize your print and open.”
“My personal information?”
“Your personal information includes when and where you were born, where you live and/or when you obtained a wanderer/traveler's pass, a hunting pass, a graduation degree, what weapons you are licensed to carry, your name, your name change if you decide to change it, and the records of past 100 Posts or Arches you touched."
“That's a lot.”
“Silvia!” “Yes, it is, isn't it?”
“I think we got her!” The voices were getting louder, and Cyrus's voice was getting fainter. She couldn't speak. It was getting darker.
No! she tried to scream.
I want to stay! Cyrus, don't leave me! CYRUS! His voice was now just a soothing murmur, and everything from the field they were in faded to black.
No! Not again! Then he was gone. She was alone.
No, please! Stop it! Come back! Don't leave me again! This wasn't happening. It couldn't. She felt like she was floating in a black liquid, and suddenly rushed to the surface like a basketball underwater. She broke the surface with a gasp.
“She's breathing!”
“Try to stabilize her!”
“I need a shot of sedative, before she goes into shock!”
Where was this? What happened to her? She forced her eyes to open. Doctors in masks and rubber gloves crowded around her. Monitors on the wall measured her heartbeats. She felt needles in her arm. An IV? What were they putting in her bloodstream? She tried to sit up. “Whuur yuu doon?” she slurred. One doctor tried to push her back down. “Lie still. We almost lost you, but you're going to be just fine.”
She scowled ferociously and managed to speak somewhat coherently. “Juss fine? Juss fine?! Why d'you do 'is to me?! Why d'you 'ring me back to 'is hellhole?! I was happy! My on'y friend 's dead, my fam'ly disowned me, everyone misunnerstands me, and I HATE THIS PLACE!”
“Somebody get me that sedative, before she hurts herself!”
Hurts herself. What a great idea! She ripped the intravenous therapy needles out of her arm and kicked the doctor away. She tried to throw their own equipment at them, but she was very weak and couldn't even pick anything up. Her hands refused to grasp anything properly. Another needle was stabbed into her, her limbs numbed and her joints locked up. “Leave me alone! Just...leave me...”
And there was darkness again.
How has it been two weeks already? There's just never time anymore! 
)
