Okay, this is my first ever fic, so cut me some slack if it ain't that good. FYI, this is a "Zatch Bell" fanfic that involves a mamodo and some characters of my own creation. I guess you fanfic freaks call that OC for "Original Character" or something; I could be totally off, but what the hell. Oh, and yes, I know that there is already another Music Mamodo, mine is different though, trust me. And also, for all you Zatch fans, please excuse any inaccuracies I'm new to the show as well as Fanfic-ing. Anywhat, hope it's good, here's how it starts out
((I guess for legal purposes I need to state that I do not own any part "Zatch Bell" or "Konjiki no Gash" shrug it's something that I see often around the site. Enjoy! D))
---
Let's start from the beginning, doesn't that sound like a good place to start? God, I sound like whatsherface from the Sound of Music. Anyways, my name is Blake Kinlion, like, "Kin-lee-un." Yep, that's me, born and raised in the quiet deciduous suburbs and can't remember ever growing up anywhere else. I am tall-ish, 5'10", I amextremely skinny, and I have long curly hair that I tie back in a ponytail. I am currently 17, finishing up my last year in high school, a little earlier than I will be planning, but we'll get into that later. I'm a simple child planning to go into a simple job, music. I played piano, and some other stuff, but mainly piano. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my skill, but I know I didn't want to go off and like, become famous or crap like that. That stuff is too exciting for me. Maybe I'd grow up to be an unaffiliated traveling piano player, playing where needs playing. But that was all far off in the future, I still had college to go through and all that jazz. Studying, I hate this, Music Theory, I'm groaning right now as I write this. But I'm a now person, and what I mean by that is, I pay attention to the present, the "here and now" as some people like to call it. And this story I'm about to tell you is a heckuva lot more recent than what hasn't happened yet. If that makes any sense.
Ok, so there's my background, normal musician kid, 17 years old, Sound of Music, got it? Good. So let's continue with why I wasn't able to finish High School sorta. But just one more thing before that, I must be a wiz at making up words because that little red-underliney thing keeps popping up everywhere on Microsoft Word. Ok, now on to the story. So it happened something like this. I was in the woods, with a clarinet actually, I'm not very good at it, but I liked to fool around with it. So I was merrily playing along right? Just like nothing's up. I was trying to figure out Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" actually, but I'm not the greatest, and I will never figure out how to do that slide thing…you have no idea what I'm talking about do you, s'okay, just go along with it. As I annoyingly repeated a certain 4 notes so as to get it just right, I noticed something on the ground, well, more like placed neatly against a tree trunk. It was this book, and it was this Ivory White color, and normally I wouldn't go picking up books that I found outside in the woods, but this one wasn't as dilapidated or dirty as any of the other books I had found. And it was white, and let's face it, white isn't the hardest thing to get dirty, so it had to be clean. So I picked it up.
But I didn't pick it up just 'cos it was white and clean. It had some funky writing on it, and some designs and all that jazz. My eyes drifted around the cover, the writing on it was nothing I could interpret. I glanced back at the spot that I found the hardback. I looked around to see where the book may have come from. About three trees away, I saw a boy. Well, "boy" may not be the right word. I actually, didn't really have a word for what he could have been, I do now, but we'll get to that later. He was very different, and not…boy-looking, though he was. Arg, this is hard to explain, how about this? The kid looked something like a cross between a "Punk Rocker" and a ninja. Not working for you? Alright let's get into more detail. Well, the main feature that stood out about this kid was definitely the 1 and a half foot hot pink Bihawkhe was sporting ((Like a Mohawk but…two)). His two plumes of hair were sticking out of this ratty old hat that was placed on his overly-large head. His face was covered with like, a ninja-mask, so only his eyes showed. What're those things called? Balaclavas? Anyway, he also had like a ninja shirt on, one of those things that look like you just wrap a long cloth around yourself really tightly, and then tie something around your waist to hold it together. In this case, a large checkerboard-print belt was holding the dressing on. He wore pants that I can only describe as being "Man-Capris" and had on some regular-seeming sneakers. There's the description, I'm not repeating it.
I inferred that the white book I was holding was his, considering there was no one else around. Hesitantly, I knelt down and shook his shoulder. "Hey, hey kid, is this yours?" I asked simply. The kid opened his eyes and looked up into mine. His eyes were, for lack of a better term, strange. They seemed larger than they should be, and on top of that, were a bright cerulean that seemed slightly unnatural. He looked up at me with neither surprise nor confusion, but rather, as calm as if I were a friend that had woken him. "Is this your book?" I repeated, holding out and pointing to the ivory book. He reached out and touched the cover without a word. I had wrongly expected him to grab the book from me, because he didn't, but I could tell that he recognized it. "Uh," I said stupidly, "Do you want it?" He looked back up at me and said in a voice that was raspy and deep, but in a little kid sort of way, "No, you can have it." That caught me off guard. "Well, I can't read it, so it's of no use to me." I said. "Well neither can I." Was the response I received. I sat there, holding out the book not saying anything, but simply staring into the strangely captivating cyan/cerulean eyes. After about a minute, I fell backwards onto my butt and sat into a cross-legged position. With nothing else coming to mind, I opened the book to its first page. Couldn't understand a thing. And then the next page. Still, nothing. And no sooner than I had flipped to the next leaf of paper did it start ((ready for this?)) to glow! Well, not the whole page, but some of the strange text on the page. I looked at it astonished, and then looked at the kid, who merely stared at it with unmoving features ((granted I couldn't really see the features due to his Balaclava or whatever)). I gazed at the glowing symbols and noticed something astounding. I could read what it said! I could actually read the writing I had no clue even what language it was in moments before! I didn't know how I could do it, and I'm still not very sure. But I could read it. Pointing out what was obvious to me, the kid said, "You can read it now, can't you?" I said yes. "We have a connection now." was what I heard next, which meant absolutely nothing to me. I asked what he meant by "connection." He said he didn't know, he said he knew but three things right now. One: His name was Senjei Sichi ((Sahn-jay See-chee)). This was a start, now I didn't have to call him "kid" anymore. Two: He is different. And that was obvious. Three: There was a connection between him, the book, and a human. I extrapolated that I was said human. Senjei got up, walked away from me to face a tree, and told me to read the book. There was only one word really, even though there were many figures shining the blinding white glow that shone upon my confused countenance. Sounding out the word to the best of my abilities, I pronounced, "Cresca." ((Kreh-shah)) Almost instantly, two octaves of piano keys appeared in front of Senjei. Staring at the materialization, I observed while the punker ninja played an Eb Minor power chord and saw the tree in front of the floating instrument bend backwards as if by very strong wind until it bent to near-horizontal level and stayed there. I don't remember anything past that point because I think I fainted.