A/N:

kd: Alright, first of all...I had forgotten to credit Jet for something...

Jet: You better believe it!

kd: *sigh* I forgot to mention that it was Jet who came up with the name 'Riven'...

Jet: Yup! It's all me!

kd: *cough* though she did get it off a character from the Winx Club...

Jet: Hey! If you don't like the name, then don't use it! Doesn't matter where I got it, I still thought of it XD!

kd: *mumbles* Yeah, yeah...

Jet: It's at least better than the names you came up with the two characters in this chapter ...

kd: Hallen and Grumble?

Jet: yeah...

kd: Alright, alright, that's why I'm having a name contest for them in the reviews! If you guys are confused of what part they have in the plot, it's that it's a fun way to explain the past, when the bakugan first invaded the earth, and Masky sees it in his dreams when he was younger. So everything right know in how Masquerade figured things out. Later Grumble and Hallen because pretty impaortant characters so...I hope that I can find good names for them if you guys don't already...

Now on to the second thing I wanted to say. I really wanted to thank Obsessive-Fan Number 1 for that review, it made me very happy to know that someone got the 'Macbeth' reference, you'll find even more connection to it later =3. Also I understand your confusion about the earlier conversation Riven had with Elisa. Thank you for being observent but remeber, I've already said this, I've been planning these next chapters for a long time, so there are no plot holes.

In the beginning I thought I was going to do only a few random clips of his diary but then decided to do a full, chronological diary write of his early childhood and onward. So really, that's a later clip. You'll understand the connection later on in the normal diary chapters.

On one last note. I understand that I changed my mind about the purpose of this story many times, and so it's beginning is kinda crack and doesn't flow well with it's lastest chapters. I apologize for that, I had a lot of ideas that I tried too hard to put together. But I PROMISE a rewrite of the earlier chapters along with a new title once I finish the story. PROMISE!

And so without further ado...here is CHAPTER 14! I love you all!

I banged my head at the bottom of the couch. I moaned in pain, but it was muffled by the duct tape that was still there. I dared myself to look at my hand…and I had seen prettier meatloaf before. The back of my right hand was an ugly purple and hurt like hell but I couldn't really do anything about it because my wrists were still duct taped together. That was the first thing I would have to take care of.

I wriggled out from the couch and looked at the clock. It was nine in the morning…I had missed the opportunity to get breakfast…and to get this tape off of me. My stomach growled, it felt so empty. I started to get scared. What if the emptiness in my stomach swallowed me up like it had in my dream? My stomach growled again, it felt like I hadn't eaten in days…actually I hadn't eaten for days. They didn't feed me my dinner from two nights ago because they tried to get me to verbally ask for my food. They didn't feed me yesterday morning because of the doctor visit and they didn't feed me yesterday's dinner because I had angered father with my words instead of angering him with my silence.

But I had to get my hands free. It would have been easier if my hand didn't hurt but I managed to find a sharp piece of metal under the kitchen sink. After that the rest of the duct tape was gone. And I was really just stuck with one problem after that…I was really hungry. Of course, I didn't feel like climbing of the cabinets for a quick snack because one of my hands were injured.

But then I remembered that I had sabotaged the lock to the front door. All I had to do was open it…

Wait, I couldn't do that! The last time I did something like that my mom…

It didn't matter! I just wasn't going outside because I was tired…yeah, that was it…

I would have to go through all the trouble of finding a chair that I hadn't ruined yet, pushing it all the way up to the door, then having to climb up the chair making sure only to use my good hand, turn the knob, then I would have to get down and push the chair away to open the door because house doors open inward and the chair would block it, otherwise.

It was simply too much work! Yeah…that was the reason I didn't want to go outside…Oh, who am I kidding, I was starving! And not to mention bored. A chair was against the door and the door was open before I could even utter "freedom".

No matter where I went I saw a towering black structure that looked more like a really old banana peel rather than a famous land mark. People walked around, paying a small boy no mind in the busy lunch-hour of the city. My stomach rumbled with the thought of food. I saw people sitting outside a restraint with fancy chairs and tables. The outside portion of the restraint was separated from the rest of the side walk by a black, gothic-looking fence but there was one table being used that was close enough that I could literally steal food off of someone's plate. But that would attract too much attention, something I could do without.

If it was as simple as stealing off of someone's plate, I wouldn't be starving, would I? I guess I would just have to look somewhere else.

After some walking around I came upon an actual green area. There were trees, birds, playgrounds, thing I had only seen on TV. Children swung on the swing sets while their parents stood watch nearby and talked to one another. The conversations ranged from who just had a child to how the government was wasting their tax dollars, all useless. The only thing that attracted my attention was an old woman sitting at the bench.

She was breaking up a perfectly good loaf of bread, probably bought from one of the many nearby bakeries in the city, and threw the crumbs on the ground where a flock of pigeons had gathered. She was giving food to a bunch of animals…of course I got angry.

"What in the world are you doing?" I demanded as I walked up to the bench, scaring away the filthy birds.

The woman frowned as she watched her companions fly away but when her eyes fell upon the small 4-year-old boy in front of her her frown was replaced by a smile, "Why…I am feeding the birds, of course." She said as if what she was doing was the most natural thing in the world.

I didn't really know what to this in this situation. I could…1.) steal the half loaf of bread from her…but stealing from an old woman isn't really the best thing you can do…2.) yell that she shouldn't be giving dirty animals bread when there are starving children in the world…3.) calmly explain to her that if she doesn't give me the loaf of bread right now I was going to eat a pigeon…

I must have been silent for too long because the woman looked at me a bit strangely before saying, "Why don't you take a seat?" She patted the spot on the bench next to her.

I sighed and did as she suggested. She kept feeding the birds even in my presence. My stomach growled again. She looked at me with a look of sympathy and chuckled, "So that's why you're so irritated, huh?"

"Shut up…" I muttered, not wanting to be teased by this silly woman who throws food on the ground.

Another laugh escaped her lips as she started searching through her purse. She pulled out another loaf of bread. I grabbed it out of her hands before she could even offer it to me. "Oh my," she said as she poked my skinny arm, "Your parent don't feed you enough! By the way, where are your parents?"

I didn't say anything, not because I had a giant chunk of bread in my mouth but because I didn't want to. I secretly hoped that something bad was happening to them right now. I imagined my father walking down the sidewalk during his lunch break when…a pillar of the new museum starting falling toward him then—I snapped out of the daydream…or 'day'mare.

We sat next to each other in silence. She continued feeding the worthless birds as I continued to think about the horrible things I wanted to happen to my parents, wherever they were. I imagined that my dad was walking to go to a restraint for lunch, a restraint probably much too fancy for our budget, when a column from a new building started tilting and fell toward him. The daydream disappeared with a flinch.

"You have such old eyes," The old woman commented, "You look at nothing yet you see everything."

I really had no idea what she was talking about and I didn't want to stick around to hear the old bat explain it. I simply got up without a single word. As I left I could hear her talking to herself, or to the birds, perhaps, "What a strange child…"

Yep, to everyone else I was strange. Only I understood myself…and sometimes I can't even say that!

When I slipped back into my house, I pretended to be looking out the window, daydreaming. I didn't even turn my head toward them. It was only until I heard father groan that I turned my attention to them. My mother gasped as she pointed at my father's bandaged hand, "Robert! What happened to your arm?"

"You won't believe this! When I was walking to lunch during break a pillar was about to fall on me!" My eyes widen as I looked out one of the few unbroken windows. That's what I saw ealier today! After I had wished that something bad would happen to me. Could I have actually caused that? "Luckily, I got away with just my hand being crushed, there were a lot of people around so help arrived fast." In the reflection of the window I saw a cruel smile spread across my face. I glanced at my own broken and bruised hand. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, right? Whether I had caused that mishap or not no longer bothered me for I now understood the joy from other's misfortune. It was a bitter-sweet thrill and rush, it was a taste I'd never forget.

For the next few days I did the same thing. I escaped through the sabotaged lock when my parents went to work, without them knowing and I went to the park only to find the woman there feeding the birds…again. Every day when she showed me a loaf of bread I would take it before she could even offer it to me. I horked it down and never said thank you…or anything at all for that matter. I started feeling like one of the animals she fed just for fun. After that I would just sit next to her in silence until I got bored and went home.

After a week had passed she wouldn't offer me bread anymore but real, home-made cooked meals, while still feeding the birds bread crumbs. Sometimes the meal seemed to be made fresh, as if she went through the trouble of cooking it right before she came to the park at I time I always showed up.

I had never tasted anything like it. My parents always ate TV dinners because they didn't have the time to cook. Even my birth mom had never cooked. And I never remember eating any real food when I was with her because the majority of the time I was still on baby food. The homemade meals were like heaven on earth for a starved child. And I didn't even mutter one, little 'thank you'. I mouthed it, 'merci!' after I had finished my last lunch with the old woman. The word felt strange on my mouth, stranger than the meal itself, because I had never really had anything to be thankful for, I never needed to use this word. It was a strange, alien, word that I never thought I would've utter.

Just as I started staring at the woman, trying to say what I wanted to, but finding myself unable, she spoke up, "Why is it that you never speak? Not that I mind, of course."

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

She smiled at me but then sighed and looked at the group of birds at her feet, "The pigeons never speak to me, either, they can't. They can never tell me how the bread tastes or thank me for it or talk to me about the weather. They come and they go and I never see them again. But they are company, nonetheless." She turned to me again, "I haven't cooked for years, how is it? Can you even speak?"

I looked down at the empty container that she had given me my meal in, "I can't speak because I'm a mute…" I looked up at her confused face and couldn't help but laugh. Sometimes the funniest jokes are the ones only you understand…

(A/N: This is one of Riven's dreams, just making sure you guys understand this somewhat random scene)

There was a large village surrounded by exotic jungle. In that village people with rich bronze or light chocolate skin and bare chests walked around. There were many humble huts where you could hear babes crying and their mothers trying to coo them back to sleep. There was also a gathering place, a town square, where people casually chatted and conducted a grand market place. In the north corner of town square was a tall tower, a tower that reached above the trees, a tower that housed the servents of the gods. The tower was the biggest structure in all the land, so it was the closest thing to the gods. Its shadow and presence overpowered the people in the gathering place below, always reminding them that 'they' are watching. Reminding the villagers that 'sacrifice day' was coming up. The villagers pretended to be at ease and to live their lives as if nothing bad will happen but you could tell by the atmosphere that something was wrong, and that the villagers were trying to hide it with a fake smile or two.

Nonetheless it was a beautiful day and children played on the game courts that were placed randomly around the village, near the gathering. It seemed like all the children were outside doing something. Playing, crafting, hunting. All the children, that is, except one. (A/N: I'm not really sure if I should come up with a new name or not. Name contest, anyone? (please add a name suggestion to your review)) At the very top floor of the temple tower Grumble looked vacantly at his history book as the highest priest droned on and on about how the gods came to be. Grumble sighed, it was supposed to be his first lesson in history, he was still in the very beginning of his textbook, and it was already as boring as hell. Worst yet, Grumble had this horrible feeling that he was forgetting something…that something was missing from this room…

"The gods are our savior. In earlier times, 'The Age of the Demons' had rained down upon us. They ate our villagers and caused mass chaos throughout our humble society. Just as things started to seem hopeless, our savior, the white dragons, came to our rescue!" The highest preist, Grumble's father, rambled.

Grumble raised his hand, though he was the only other person there.

His father enthusiastically pointed to his son, "Yes! Grumble!"

"But weren't the gods the same as the demons?" Grumble pointed out.

His father stared at him for awhile, as if he had never thought about it, then his face started turning red with anger, "They are nothing like those demons who ate our ancestors!"

"But…I thought they were of the same species…" he looked very confused.

"And who told you that?" His father asked furiously. Grumble knew that his father could execute someone for heresy, and would, if he mentioned a name. But how do you execute a god for heresy? Grumble kept quiet. "That's what I thought, you're just pulling these impossible ideas from your head, aren't you?"

"They're called bakugan!" he burst out, not wanting to be discredited for speaking the truth.

"That's enough!" The highest priest took the paddle from the corner and hit his son's wrist.

"The gods, after saving us, agreed to leave there beloved land in the sky and take permanent residence on earth, agreeing to protect us from the demons in return of monthly sacrifices."

"They even eat people like the demons do, too…" Grumble muttered, again having his hand slapped.

"And over time they have given our people the greatest of gifts. They have given us the language that we read and speak today. A language we call 'The Tongue of the Gods'-"

"But, wait," Grumble quickly cut off his father, "What happened to the language that the humans originally spoke? What happened to all the other history? Why is the beginning of 'The Age of the Gods' the very first chapter? What happened before the gods came?"

"Ah, well, that is something that is lost. Many humans were killed in 'The Age of the Demons' so teaching the last of the human population a new language was an easy feat. Only a few of the elders even know a little of the 'Olden Tongue'"

"That's horrible!" Grumble spoke up.

"That's the way it is!" his father snapped at him.

"So what, a couple of demons tried scared off all the other demons so that they could have 'human eating rights', how are they our saviors? I'm sure the humans were doing fine before the demons or the gods came! Why must we comply and switch our language to that of human eaters and forget everything about ourselves that made us an independent species? Did we really need to stop using our true, native tongue just because some demon said that it would be blasphemous otherwi-" Grumble never got to finish his speech because he was slapped in the face.

"I will not sit and listen to this accusing of the gods!" the high priest nearly screeched in horror at his son's indecency. Only when he noticed Grumble reaching for the door did he lower his voice again, "And just where are you going?"

"I'm going to the elders to learn 'Olden Tongue'!" Grumble announced stubbornly.

"Oh no you're not!" his father locked the door to the study on the top floor, "It's against the gods' wills for one to learn 'Olden Tongue'."

"Against the gods' wills or against your will?" Grumble pointed out before literally jumping out the window for a quick escape.

The Highest Priest's eyes shot wide open as he hurried to the window, shocked that his son would kill himself over this. It was the top floor of the mighty tower, surely anyone would die from half the fall but when the priest looked out the window he saw that his son had gracefully landed on the roof of a hut and now jumped from rooftop to rooftop to the Elders' Hut. There was no denying what he was…

"Grandma! Grandma!" Grumble called to the old woman who was currently weaving a basket. She wasn't actually related to Grumble but all of the village children have nick-named her as 'Grandma Tiria'. The village Elders were the most respected people in the land, below the priests, of course. In meetings they hold much influence through their natural wisdom and gentle charm. They all live in the Elder's Hut and, even though they have no living relatives left, are greatly loved by the entire village. They live in comfort as they lived off of donations from the villagers. "Grandma Tiria! Teach me 'Olden Tongue'!" Grumble demanded.

The old woman's eyes widened as she dropped the half-weaved basket. Her mouth hung open as if I had swore at her. "But why…how…I mean…" She tried to get her words in order, "Why in the world would the son of the High Priest want to learn 'Olden Tongue'?"

"Grandma Tiria, isn't it tragic that the human race will lose their original tongue? Isn't the 'Olden Tongue' part of what makes us human?" Grumble acclaimed politely.

In the end Grandma Tiria agreed to secretly teach Grumble 'Olden Tongue' so that part of humanity could be passed down once again.

After that, after I had eaten my meal, of course, all we did was talk. First it was about idle things like the weather, or what shows we watched on TV, or about the different attractions in Paris. But after a while our talks got a lot deeper and personal. At some point, I had to ask, "Grand-mère! (A/N: French for Grandmother) Grand-mère! Why is it that you come here every day to feed the birds? I'm pretty sure by now that the pigeons here are as big as turkeys!"

She looked up at the sky, her silver-grey bangs falling down her cheeks, "I just needed the company…"

"Company? Why birds and not humans?" Surely humans were much more fun being with other than a bunch of dumb birds that just came for food. But I used to come for just the food, too…

She heaved a heavy sigh, "All the humans I know now, except for you, have just been paid to take care of me…"

"What do you mean?" people were being paid to take care of an old lady?

She smiled at me, "I live in a retirement home."

"A retirement home?"

"It's for old people who have no family members to take care of." Her smile seemed to fade at the mention of 'no family members'.

"What…happened to them?"

She looked up at the sky again, the fleeing birds, but wasn;t actually looking at it, "My husband, he passed away from canser of the blood right after the birth of my only child. We had one daughter and I watched her grow up and get married. She was expecting a child with my beloved son-in-law. She was rushed to hospital when she was close to delivering her child but they got into a car crash. My son-in-law swerved the car so that the impact would hit himself and not my daughter and her child. Even after losing him, she had to be rushed to the hospital to deliver her child. Maybe recent events had caused her too much shock because she couldn't deliver my grandchild, and died trying, in childbirth." She now turned to me with a weird sad-happy smile on her face, it instantly reminded me of how my mother smiled on that day. "I imagine that if my grandchild had lived through the ordeal," she gently stroke my cheek, "that he'd be a lot like you."

Tears formed in my eyes. I knew it was a sad story but why was she smiling like that? How could a smile look so sad? Was it the smile of accepted loss, admitted grief? Was this how my mother felt when she looked at my face for the last time? I remembered my own cruel smile that I wore not too long ago, when my father had almost been killed.

That's when I learned that a smile can mean many things…

The next day Grumble looked around the room and realized what was missing, "Where's Hallen?"

"He's with the rest of the children." The priest said simply.

"What? Why? He's my twin brother, he's supposed to be in religious training with me!" Grumble started to feel a panicking raise in his chest. Hallen was his big brother, he was supposed to help Grumble! They were supposed to help each other get through this Spartan-style training! They were supposed to…be the ones to share each other's pain.

"Starting today he will be learning with all the other village children." Father waved his hand, as if expecting that it would 'wave away' the current subject.

"But he's the son of the highest priest, your eldest son! It would be mad not to include him in training toward priesthood, he's supposed to someday take your place!" Grumble yelled out. This was starting to become ridiculous.

"Enough! This does not concern you!" he barked out.

"Of course it concerns me! He's my only brother. Ow!" Grumble yelped in pain as his hand was slapped with the paddle.

"He…does not have the talent for this training. And you are my eldest now."

"What? What do you mean I'm your eldest now?" Grumble's eyes widened as he realized what his father had done, "No…" he whispered in dread.

"He has not lived up to my expectations and so, because the law states that only the eldest has the right to inherit a position, I disowned him making you my eldest, don't fail me…" he muttered with a dangerous look in his eyes.

Tears threatened to fall from Grumble's eyes. Sometimes fathers with high positions will disown their eldest because they like the mother of the other one better or if they have better talent for it, but just because it was common practice didn't make it anymore easy to deal with. The village orphans lived in the healer's hut, which was more like a building, like an ancient hospital, where they trained to help the common people and eased their own pain at losing their parents by giving life to others but not everyone there actually had dead parents, some were like Hallen, disowned. Grumble could only imagine the pain and disgrace his brother felt now. He had to find him.

Grumble, yet again, decided to cut their history lesson short and look for his brother.

"The gods not only gave us protection from the demons they also gave us a language with a complex writing system which has allowed us to raise from our more primitive state of sharing information by tongue to being able to keep written records of events and people…are listening, Grum-" The High Priest stopped mid-sentence when he noticed that Grumble was positioned to jump out the window…again. "Are you crazy? You were lucky the first time but you'll break your neck if you jump from such-" but…again…Grumble decided to ignore his powerful father to do follow his own desires. He was no doubt the most rebellious child in the village, and he gained a strange sort of pride from that.

Grumble forcefully pushed open the door to the Healer's Hut so that it actually was ripped off.

The town's healer, Layia, a tall, hard-working woman suddenly looked up from mixing potions to see the small boy that had broken her door, "What the-"

Grumble offered no apology nor explaination, "Where's Hallen?" he demanded.

Layia glanced at Grumble with almost an apologetic look, "He's in the barracks, crying in a corner…"she sighed with sympathy.

He didn't wait for a second, Grumble rushed to where the other children slept. His eyes quickly spotted a copper colored back, that looked much like his own, huddled close to the corner. "Hallen!"

The trembling boy did not look up.

Grumble ran up behind him and pulled on his shoulder so that his brother would look at him in the eye, "Get a hold of yourself!"

The smaller boy sniffed, his face was smeared with dirt, snot and tears, "Why…*sniff*…should I? I," he looked at the ground, "Should have seen it coming…" Hallen looked up at the face which seemed too different from his. Yes, they were twins, but they weren't identical. To Hallen Grumble seemed to be everything he wasn't. He was unbelievably strong, he always a mysterious demeanor about him and he seemed to know how to get what he wanted. Even his face…seemed better looking than Hallen's face, and those blood red eyes, those bright irises…

"What do you mean 'I should have seen it coming'? I sure as hell was surprised!" Grumbled yelled at his brother.

Hallen sighed. Foolish brother, the only thing wrong with Grumble was that he couldn't see how great he was, or at least that's what Hallen thought. "Grumble you're smarter and a better studier and you can do rituals as if it's a second nature, everyone has problems with rituals but you've never failed…once." Indeed, this was an unusual talent. Rituals were what you needed to do to convert the power of the gods into a specific task. It included writing down the 'Tongue of the Gods', usually with the sealing of a circular pattern, and sometimes including a sacrifice to the gods in return for using their power, sometimes you didn't need a sacrifice if you gave up your own blood in writing down the ritual. It was very hard to do because you needed to draw the complex characters exactly right, let alone choose the correct characters, for it to work, and, of course, the gods can choose not to carry out the ritual. Hallen had only succeeded with a single character ritual, surround by a a single lined circle, which he used to heal a paper cut, every single other time, he fail.

"Don't worry about it!" Grumble said fiercely. He stood up from kneeling next to his brother, "I'll fit it! I'll fix everything!" He then ran to the door.

"But wait! How are you going to fix it? What are you even going to do?" Hallen reached out to his brother's silhouette, a dark figure against the strong sunlight that flooded in the room from the door being opened.

"First of all, I'm going to tell mom!" Grumble yelled from the doorway.

"Wait! You can't! You shouldn't worry her because she's already bed-ridden with weakness, she won't be able to do anything…" But Grumble had already ran off…