Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Jake! I lub joo~

:D

-PD

Chapter 1

Dust, picked up by a burst of wind, swirled across an expanse of open desert. Several charred trees stood about with their long shadows stretching forever in the fading daylight, light that was becoming increasingly rare in this dying world. The trees, though dead, were a few of the last of their kind. They were the only remaining proof of the luscious greenery that had once covered the land that had long since reduced to nothing short of an arid wasteland. A band of travelers were slowly trekking through this hellish landscape, their bodies covered in white robes with matching white turbans covering their heads and hiding their faces. One rode upon one of the legendary (1)Areion as three others surrounded her on foot.

"Do you know how much further until we reach the city?" The largest of the men inquired from his place on the right of the woman on the Areion. His grandfather had been a giant and was, therefore, a quarter giant. He traveled with 6 pistols hanging off his hips; he also brandished two more guns, one at each breast. He tipped his large, black hat, one he refused to part with even while wearing the turban, so he could clearly look at the woman over the top of his tinted glasses.

She turned to him, not saying a word. "If we continue through the night without too many stops, we should reach the city by dawn." The man who traveled behind the Aerion answered, "You should know better than to ask anything of the lady. Your common ears cannot understand the speech of the Royals. Only the Middle Children can." This man proudly had his two-handed sword—a sword that was about as long as he was tall—strapped across his back.

"Well excuse me for not being a high and mighty 'Middle Child' like she is." The man with the guns pointed at a small blonde girl who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

"If we didn't need you I'd have killed you by now, Asshole." The man reached behind his head and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, preparing himself for a fight.

"Like you could, Straaten." The partial giant sneered and placed a hand upon one of his beloved pistols. The two men stopped in their tracks and faced each other, the two girls walking on ahead until they noticed the absence of their supposed protectors.

"I thought we were only to refer to one another by our surnames Autome."

"Luchtic, Straaten, oh…uh..sorry…Autome, Moeras, Puh-Please c-cease in your actions! W-We can't afford to be spotted now! We're so close." The Middle Child, Botere Schotse, pleaded. While these two men were strong, there were plenty of gangs around, plus they'd be traveling at night. The two men, Luchtic Autome and Straaten Moeras, withdrew their hands from their weapons and grunted; they were dissatisfied with having to, once again, make temporary peace. This exchange had become regular as tensions arose within their group. They had been traveling for over a week and it had been half as long since they'd seen a substantial meal. Not to mention that the men who were supposed to be a team strongly disliked one another, not quite to the point of hate just yet, but they were close.

The little blonde girl looked up at the red-headed Royal for a moment before she nodded in understanding. "'We must stop and wait till morning.' Is what my lady says."

"Hm? Why?" Straaten's black hair fell into his face when he turned to look at the Middle Child. He lifted a gloved hand under his turban to tuck it back behind his ear.

Botere looked up at her superior, awaiting an answer. "'It becomes dangerous up ahead. Many dangers we cannot see in the dark, it would be suicide.' Is what my lady says."

"Do you always have to end your translations with 'Is what my lady says'?" Autome imitated in a whiney, high-pitched voice. "It gets old after the first time. And who says that redheaded bitch gets to tell us what to do?"

"Wuh-Well, cause I'm supposed'tuh it's the rule that we Middle Children have to follow an— …'Shut the hell up, Fatass...How dare you disrespect me like that.' Is what my—"

"I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!" Botere jumped at the exclamation, tears sprining to her misty blue-green eyes. "I'm part giant; I'm supposed to be big! Quit laughing Moeras!"

"'Very well, we shall continue with our journey. Don't blame me if you die you retarded, over-weight pile of Gargoyle shit.' Is what my lady says. Ouch, th-that's awful harsh muh-my lady."

Straaten, who had been laughing until a moment ago, requested the group to stop. "Prepare yourself, Autome." He began to withdraw his sword, the fire of his fighting spirit burning within his eyes. His sword glowing a faint blue as his spirit turned into energy about him.

"What's the matter with you?" Autome dropped his face into a scowl and withdrew his guns, aiming them at Straaten's unprotected chest. "Still got some of this sand up your—"

"No you lumbering moron, look at what's ahead of you!" Straaten pointed to a group of shadowy figures before bringing his other hand to the hilt of his sword, preparing to defend the seemingly unshaken redhead behind him.

Autome squinted a little, trying to make out what they could be. He soon found that that wasn't necessary when a ball of violet light started glowing through the haze. "(2)ACHMA DAM—"

There was a flash of blinding light, and then all was silent save for the sounds of rustling cloth, muffled screams of protest, and straining ropes.

Stan was coughing now, trying to hide his laughter. "You would get cast as the giant in the play, Cartman."

"Well at least I'm not some fairy princess like the faggy jew-boy over here! He doesn't even get any lines!"

"Shut up you miserable tub of lard! You know there weren't enough girls in our class for all the parts! Besides, Butters was cast as a girl too!"

"Wuh-Well, bein a girl is a lot harder than you'd think!"

The four boys, who were now 17, were walking home from high school, as they had missed the bus that day. This was incredibly unfortunate as their high school was a good 2-hour walk from South Park.

"It's not like we were legitimately cast. There are only three Junior classes and each class was assigned to a different part of the production. Would you rather be on prop and costumes or some boring shit like that?" Stan commented from the side. He usually stayed out of arguments unless he saw a good time to intervene and cool things down between Kyle and Cartman, which was always 'fun.'

"Oh, shut up Stan, you're just saying that cause you have a cool part." Kyle was still sore about being cast as the princess in some hokey sounding play. The only cool part would be the costumes and set design done by the other two groups in the Junior year. (They're school way so small that there were only 3 classes worth of kids in each year.) Jesus and Satan were helping out and were going to use their powers to whip up some 'really sick shit' for the play. Or so they were told.

"Hey guys, do you see that?" Stan asked. It was foggy that day so they could only see about 100 feet in front of them.

Sadly, it was nowhere near enough time for the gang to escape from their impending doom.

Author's Note

(1)Areion: mythical creature; an incredibly fast horse with a green mane and the abilities of human speech
(2) Achma, in their wold, that's their god. if it's a real word, then you can throw stuff at me for my ignorance v.v;

Ok, Pronunciations:
Luchtic (LOO -*phlegm noise*- tic)
Autome (OW – toh - may)
Straaten (STRAH – ten)
Moeras (Mo – AIR – rahs)
Botere (BOW - tair)
Schotse (SKOHT - tsee)

I KNOW that it was late, I have a reason for my tardiness in my profile. It doesn't make me feel any better though…but anyway:

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

-PD