Alright, well. This is my first story that I'll ever write. It's of my own work and something I believe I'll work hard on. When it comes to updates I'm not sure if I'll put enough to satisfy in time. But there will be updates. No doubt. I'll need plenty of feedback, ideas, and assumptions on what any viewers(and if I'm lucky, subscribers) think about the basic story. Please take into consideration it's just a Prelude so I haven't gotten around to writing much, so please don't say how it's short or whatever. I'm trying to start, and this is how I can at... 12:26 AM.
Also, my inspirations are my friend, Heather, who I text back and forth with progressions on this story's basis (just a few fanfic-like twists), the Bartimaeus Trilogy writings by Johnathan Stroud, the Kingdom Hearts series that belongs to Tetsuya Nomura, and also Neal Shusterman, who's novels I love and adore the elements within them.
Prelude
"... a kind of fire with ice cold tips; Water droplets on the sands of the desert; lightning without a sound, darkening everything it caressed; wind escaping the blank pathways in the air; life escaping matter; death escaping time; coming apart as light blackened like starlight; fear molding all of the Children's energies.
As I try to make sense of what I saw- no; what I felt- it appeared. Just as our former master had guessed, our 'ceremony' had indeed created the most powerful thing within the universe.
I was scared. Fear escaping my wounds as blood. I had gone far to help my former master find the Children. They traveled fast and endless, but we were able to capture them. Having them cooperate was difficult, but my former master had his ways. And immediately after the 'ceremony', as we felt terrified, yet triumphant, it stood there: The Cannon. The ultimate weapon.
But my former master never got to use it. Some boy and his friends interfered by first immobilizing all of us by some unseen force. Seeing that I was already wounded, I suppose he must have taken pity since he didn't harm me.
Then, before I could turn my eyes, my former master had been killed; a scythe attached to a chain that emerged from his own shadow had sliced through his upper torso; his heart exiting his body in two pieces. I was shocked to see how fast he was killed, without care. For you see, I had grown to despise the old man. At first, I respected him and eagerly wished to do as he wished so I could, too, become powerful like him. But after those years at his service, seeing him die made me feel like the right thing was done. However, I will admit, the whole 'heart exiting his body in two pieces' part did make me wince.
As I saw my former comrades screaming as they were quickly slaughtered by this boy, no younger than 15, and his friends, I felt my eyes begin to feel weary. Before I passed out, I realized that playing dead would be the best way out. 'Hopefully I'll wake up', I thought; unlike the others that cursed blood with their words. Prior to it ending though, I felt a shake of the earth, and a shock-wave around my body pinning me to the earth, with the temperature rapidly..."
"Darn, it cuts off. The Master won't be happy with only this," I thought as I moved closer to the campfire. It wasn't our campfire. In fact, inside the fire is where I found a page of some anonymous writer. Under the assumption the Master had, I could guess that this was another page of th-
"Daemon," I jumped as my Master called out my Title, extending his hand out 'munificently', "Give."
Cold as ever, really. Doing as I was told with a bit of a distraught smirk, the page I found was handed to him 'magnanimously'. Of course, as quite the chiller my Master is, he snatched it with a dark, bold face and a cold-blooded hand. Without even glancing at me, he began to read. His eyes widening, sharpening, then widening again, until a final sharpening with a bit more of an upset glare at the page. Then, to my surprise, his face seemed to calm down and clear up as he hands me the page calmly and courteously.
His voice was about room temperature and without hesitation he said, "Good work, Nathan. We've finally found another page. I just had hoped this one would have had more environment in the writing."
Still in shock, I stuttered, "R-right. It's a-a shame. We will have to keep looki-"
My Master came back. After slapping me backhanded across my face, I smiled sinisterly. As much as I could say it hurt, or how I hated being abused as a servant, I must admit that his authority did impress me for his age. Only fifteen and already able to control his own.
"I'd rather not have my servants have such shocked emotions. You are the most disrespectful. Even Damiere has better qualities."
"Well he is your Dark Daemon. He comes from the darker qualities of your heart. Of course he contains the 'better qualities' that you have yourself. As a fifteen year old kid, I wouldn't let it past you to be conceited."
I knew I may have crossed the lines calling my Master, a fifteen year old kid, conceited, but honestly it's difficult trying to win an argument with him. At least without getting slapped. I guess though that with the way things are, I can't hate him. He has proven to be powerful and strong willed in the year that I've been with him. Yes, I feel like I remember it like yesterday. Especially now that I just got slugged this time. Got to love my Master for it though. Not many fourteen year old brats could do all he's done. Especially without me, his faithful, witty, and let's not forget majestic Daemon, Nathan Aldrin.
Oh and one last thing. There will be a subtitle for this story. The full title for the story will be "Nature's Children - The Searcher's Journal". So again, please and thank you for subscriptions, comments and anything else helpful or supportive.