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Radiance



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Athel

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Introduction

It is said:
That when the gods created the land upon which we tread, they created another one
A parallel world, like another side of a coin
A world where beings of pure light existed
To keep in check the darkness of this world
And, to keep the two worlds from drifting apart, they created ties between them
Beings from this world where partnered with beings from theirs
To tie the worlds together
Such has the balance always been, since the beginning of time​


This has been the legend, since the Dawning. The forging of the bonds between the Two Worlds, and when the first Radiants traversed the land. They used their powers to bring man forward, to improve the lives of those they could. They were guardians of peace, furthering the progress of both their kinds.

But evil grows deep in the hearts of men. Its foulness tainted the light that was bestowed upon them. They became abominations, crippled shadows of the beauty they had once beheld. They used the darkness that the light had become, to pollute the Two Worlds, and grow even stronger by doing it. The bonds between the worlds were strained, and nearly shattered from the strife that had grown all too common.

The remaining heroes banded together and struck down the tyrants of darkness, but the bonds between the Two Worlds were to never recover fully. They were forever weakened.

It was not long before the Radiants passed. In their absence, the turmoil that had once existed before them returned. It was a dark age, where there were none who could defend those who had depended so much on the heroes.

Though it was not to last. Soon, new Radiants were appointed, and the glory once again embraced the land. But, again, there were those tainted by the darkness, and again they rose up against the heroes.

Such, the cycle repeated itself for centuries. After hundreds of years of constant stress, the bonds between the Two Worlds were only a thread. Thus, the Two Worlds convened, and a decree was made. The Forcorner, ancient in its essence from before time itself, had been shattered, its fragments spread across the Grey World. Yet it still persisted in its purpose, and the bonds between the Two remained. It was believed that, in time, the wounds in its workings would slowly heal, and the bonds between the Two Worlds restored. None remain who were there, and the truth has faded into history.

No Radiants have walked the land for nearly two centuries. Rodaria, the Grey World of man has lived in solitude, leading itself by its uses. The tales of the Radiants and the White World, Brilliance, have become legend. The bonds between the Two have indeed healed, and grow stronger every day. Perhaps it might even heal its scars from the Early Years. There has been calm in the Two Worlds, with none able to threaten it.

…Until…

An uprising will soon begin. To break the ties that binds the Two Worlds. Those of the dark heart who wield the corrupt power seek to rule the Grey World, in its isolation from the White. They slowly form their ranks in hiding, gathering together the Forshards. With them all combined, the Forcorner will be reformed, and the bonds between the worlds broken.

The Radiants must rise from the annals of history to stand against the darkness that grows in silence. Once again, must Radiance be wielded. Once again, the heroes of light must ride the land.

___________________________________________________________

This is an idea that has been developing in my mind for half a year. I've gone through a dozen revisions and hundreds of tweaks, and I'm finally ready to let people read it.

This isn't really a prologue, so much as an intro to the rest of the story. It just covers background and such, what the story's basically about. And yes, it's flowery. I like flowery language. Sue me.

I really hope that this hits off the ground. I'm looking for feedback and constructive criticism, so fire away. I'll try and have Chapter 1 up by next week.
 

Nazo

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Dude, this is going to be totally awesome, I can tell. I can also tell that you're going to surpass be in about two chapters if you haven't already. Make sure you post regularly this time and don't revise to the point that you stop. Cause you did that twice with your old fic (which I've forgotten the name of).
 

Athel

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Alright, the rest of it's up. Yes, it's short. I'm not one for lengthy, gigantic chapters. Sue me.

___________________________________________________________

Chapter 1 – Destiny


Chapter 1 – Destiny


The sun shattered into thousands of shades of red, orange and purple, and every color in between. It dipped low beneath the horizon, and cast huge shadows back against the earth. The slopes of distant mountains to the east were framed against the evening sky, casting huge shadows back behind them. The birds began to return to their nests, and the first crickets began their nightly song. The day-goers made their way back to home, and the night-goers began to work their way out.

Dust swept up and behind tanned leather boots. Said boots were attached to the legs of a boy nearing the end of adolescence. He was slightly above average height, standing at 5” 9 and his head of muzzled black hair was nearing shagginess. A rucksack was slung over his shoulders, and bumped against his back every time he placed a foot down on the dirt road.

His name was Harvey.

After several minutes of monotonous walking, he stood in front of a short, but large house, one of the few in the village, and not far from the business center to boot. It was sturdily built, flat-roofed, and comfortable. He pulled open the heavy-set door and a plethora of aromas hit him. He stepped into the house, and felt the warmness of being welcomed. He slipped his bag off of his shoulders and on to straw-lined floor.

“Hello, Harvey” a friendly, motherly voice said. It came from a tall, svelte woman with black hair that fell in straight lines down her back. She was long limbed, and her features were all angles. She stood over a huge pot of stew, steam rising in lazy wisps off of it. She turned around a showed Harvey a tiny smile, the kind that people give when they’re not very used to it.

“Hey, Misses Windfall” Harvey replied. He sat himself down on a stool on the sides of an elevated wooden board that acted as a table. “Mind if I stay for supper?”

“Not at all” she replied. “Julia’s not back yet” she said, answering the question Harvey had yet to ask. “She’ll be out a bit later than usual. It’s getting closer to winter, so the hunt’s harder.”

“Right, I understand” Harvey said, but frowned. She seemed to sense it, and turned to look at him, trying to seem concerned. Mrs. Maria Roselight Windfall never seemed to show genuine emotion. Sometimes, it was like she wasn’t human. But she was, as far as Harvey could tell. He had known the woman most of his life, and had grown accustomed to it.

She took four flax bowls, and started ladling stew into two of them. One of the bowls went in front of Harvey and the other on the other end of the table, where the woman promptly sat. Harvey sat for a second and simply enjoyed the aromas wafting from the stew. Misses Windfall may not be very empathetic, but she sure could cook. The picked up a wooden spoon and worked a mouthful of beef, peas and carrots around so his tongue wouldn’t burn as easily. He wasn’t very successful.

He was already halfway into his second bowl of stew when the door of the house opened once again. In its frame, stood a girl of 17, brown haired, green eyed and of clear skin. She carried a wooden bow over one shoulder and a quiver of arrows over her other. She stepped through the doorway and set both on hooks on the wall. Her name was Julia Roselight, and Harvey found her unfathomably beautiful. He had known her since he was six; their families had been friends. When Harvey’s mother had died, they had accepted him like a son. They were the only family he had, and several times it crossed his mind how incestuous his feelings for Julia seemed.

“Sorry I’m late” was the first thing she said. “The hunt was really tough today.” She sat down beside the table on a bail of hay, and graciously accepted the bowl of stew her mother set out. “Getting closer to winter, so stuff’s going into hibernation now. We hardly got by this week.” She finished the stew, set the bowl aside and leaned back. She glanced sidelong at Harvey, who quickly occupied himself with the floor. He ate the last of his stew and picked his sack up from the ground.

“Well, I ought to be going” he said, and began his way to the door.

“Wait a moment, Harvey” Mrs. Windfall said. She rose from the table and strode over to a cabinet set along the wall. Out of it, she pulled a small burlap pouch, which she offered to Harvey. It had a comfortable weight to it. He peered inside, and two dozen silver discs glittered back at him. It was the most money he had ever held in his hand. “Happy Birthday, Harvey.”

It was the eleventh of October. Harvey’s birthday was the twelfth. He had forgotten. “Misses Windfall…you don’t have to do this…”

“It’s the least we could do.”

A man, round in the stomach and bright in the eyes, stood in the doorway. Age filled his lines of laughter, and his once brown beard was almost entirely white. Mister Thomas Windfall was a man that lived his life with a smile on his face and a generous hand open at all times. “If you’re not going to celebrate your own birthday, we have to.” He clasped an age-worn hand on Harvey’s shoulder. “You’ll be seventeen, my boy. You need to find a career.” He closed the other around the pouch in Harvey’s hand. “This’ll get you started. I can get you out to Poulis on the weekend. I’ll call in some favors, get you an apprenticeship.” He leaned in closer, a habit of his that meant he truly meant what he was saying. “You’re like a son to me, Harvey. And if you think of me at all like a father, then this is something I’m doing.” He smiled from one cheek to the other.

Throughout this, Harvey listened. He looked up into the aging man’s face, and a smile of his own spread. “Thank you, really. This is…more than I could have asked for.”

“That’s why I didn’t ask!” The potbellied man let out a hearty laugh. “It’s a gift, now you accept it. That’s what your mother taught you to do, isn’t it?” He lifted his head, and looked past Harvey to his daughter. He smiled from ear to ear again. “Now, Julia, don’t you have something for Harvey?”

She smiled as Harvey turned his head to her. “Follow me” she said as she walked past him and through the open door of the house. He obediently did. She led him up a hill at the rear of the house and stared into the distance of the mountains far in the east.

“I wonder what’s past there…” she said as Harvey came to a stand beside her. “Past those mountains…”

Harvey couldn’t help but notice how the sunset bent around the curves in her face. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks and looked away. She must have seen him, because she laughed. “Smooth” he thought. He heard her move, and turned his head back.

Her face was right in front of his.

Her hands were around his.

Her lips were on his.

He nearly passed out. He spent a half a second bewildered, though it felt to him more like a century. His muscles turned to jelly, and he was surprised he didn’t melt into his boots. It wasn’t deep or strong. It was gentle. She didn’t push it further. He didn’t either. There was simply the gentleness and caring of it. It really lasted only a couple seconds, but it felt like an eternity. When she pulled away, her eyes were closed and her mouth turned into a gentle smile. She opened her eyes, and her smile widened at the boy’s expression.

“Happy Birthday, Harvey.”

And she walked back home.

He stood there. And stood. And stood. And when his mind had rebooted itself, he closed a hand around his mouth, as if to hold the memory there. In the twelve years he had known Julia, and in the ten he had known her like a sister, she had never kissed him. They didn’t talk much about ‘them’. He didn’t even know if she liked him the way he did her. But she had kissed him, on the day before his seventeenth birthday.

What a present.

He made his way home.

It wasn’t much compared to the Windfalls. A shack of reinforced logs sheltered by straw and fortified by weekly repair. It baked in the summer and the chilly winds leaked through in the winter. Harvey had to crouch to fit his head through the low hole that acted as a door. The inside wasn’t much else. One wall was completely taken up by a squat row of shelves. It showcased his mother’s last possessions; a lock of Harvey’s hair when he was three, a rusted bronze ring, a velvet jewelry box and a book.

The last was a supposed gift from his father to his mother. His father had died when he was 2; Harvey had never known him. The book was an inch and a half thick, the pages were browning along the edges and its spine was bent inward. It was covered with some form of black cloth, and on its cover a symbol of six circles intertwined within another, larger one was laid in a silver color.

The book fascinated him. It was written in Old, the glyphs used before the alphabet had been established. He had spent years teaching himself it. The book’s purpose was a mystery. It was something between a story, a recording, and a manual. He sat himself down on the pile of straw that served as his bed and cracked the book open. The very first words of the book were those that attracted him most.

“’It is said: that when the gods created the land upon which we tread, they created another one. A parallel world, like another side of a coin.’” He had memorized the passage. The words struck out at his mind. The tugged at a part of him that couldn’t reach, a place he couldn’t find, a sensation he couldn’t describe. It was like hearing someone tell you something about yourself. Something that you already knew…somehow…

He couldn’t remember how long he sat there, thinking. But when he looked out at the night sky, stars were beginning to appear. He placed the book back on the shelves, washed his face in a bowl of water from the same morning, and settled down on his bed.

He was seventeen years old tomorrow morning. He had had his first kiss. He had money that he could spend on an apprenticeship. He had a book.

As the crickets began their song, he drifted off to sleep, thinking about his destiny.
 
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Nazo

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His name was Harvey.

Enter Harvey Starfield.

Dude, even with the little amount you posted, I was still entertained. I can already see the levels of excitement this fic is going to generate. If you don't find a way to make this shiz famous when you finish, I will.

Oh and yeah you've totally owned me in terms of writing skills. Congrats.
 

tdc456

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Loved your use of what I call "spicy vocabulary."
Great stuff, even though it wasn't all there. I'm enjoying his boyish awkwardness with Julia.
Can't wait for the rest.

You are definitely a much better writer than me. Hopefully, I will be better after my AP English Lit class.
 

Nazo

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Ah, a beautiful way to start the weekend. Your story just sounds so real dude, as if it's already published or something. This has to be known by more people. I'll see if I can get Pwned, Raven, and Shadow over here to read it.

Also, I see nothing as far as critique goes yet, so keep it up.
 

tdc456

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The rest of the chapter was very nice.
He sounds like such an average teenager, its perfect.
That book obviously is very important.
Can't wait for more.
 

Athel

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I apparently effed up on the geography before. I tweaked the first chapter to fix it.
 

Athel

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Assume this is a habit, because it's been a week and Chapter 2's not done. Thus, I'm going to post what I have like I did with the first chapter and edit the rest in. Enjoy.

9-18: Even more. I am a lazy, procrastinating asstard now.

9-26: Finally. Meant for it to be much longer though, maybe twice as long as Chapter 1. Guess I'll just have to have Chapter 3 make up for it.

___________________________________________________________

Chapter 2 - Call to Arms

It was quiet.

Weird.

He was alone.

Double weird.

It wasn’t usually like this. Usually, there was something going on. Dreams are like that. But there wasn’t anything happening. There wasn’t anything period. There was no floor, no ceiling, no walls, no nothing. Just a gray mist that started nowhere and ended nowhere.

He walked through the nothing. He didn’t make any noise. How could he? There was nothing that could hear it. He just walked, the gray mist swirling around his body. He walked. And walked. And kept walking. How long did he walk? Dreams don’t keep track of time. But all the time he walked, there was still nothing.

Or was there?

There was a presence. Dreams weren’t usually reliable, but it was there. Like someone lurking over your shoulder. If he was awake, he probably would have wondered what it was. But his dream-self just kept on walking. All the while he walked, he felt the presence. He was probably tossing and turning in his sleep. But his dream self didn’t deter. It just kept on walking.

And then it stopped.

There was something.

A silhouette, a formless shadow. It stood towering above him, a black intangible shape. The mist coalesced around it, darkening and thickening. Its nonexistent eyes stared at him, boring through his dream self into his real mind.

It’s almost time.

“What are you?” he said, the words coming from everywhere but his lips.

You have a duty. An obligation.

“I said what are you?”

Soon, you will be…

“What am I, invisible?”

No…Harvey…you will…you are…

“You know m…how…wait, this is a dream. Of course you know who I am.”

Very soon, it will be…you will be…

“What are you!!? What duty, what obligation!? Get out of my damn head!”

The gray mist burst into flame. The dream was enveloped into white flame, burning without heat or pain. Except for the shadow. It burned a black so dark it hurt the eyes, beating down relentlessly on him. He crumpled to the ground and shielded his face. His arms charred in the heat, wrinkling into black husks. He screamed, but made no sound as the flames poured into his mouth.

Wake up. It will be…soon…

“What the hell are you!?”

Wake up.

Harvey did. His entire body was shaking, his shirt clung to his chest and ice cold beads of sweat trickled down his face. He could almost feel the adrenaline shooting through his veins. His head throbbed and he gasped for every breath. He carefully propped himself up from the pile of straw and wiped his face with his shirt. His mind raced like his heart. “What…was that…?” was the thought he kept returning to. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

His mind felt numb and his body was sore. He dumped the remainder of his water from the day before on his head, and shook it dry. He changed his shirt into one less sweat-soaked and stepped out of the shack. An early morning chill had covered the land. A cloudless grey had enveloped the sky, and the sun was still hidden behind the eastern mountains. Harvey wrapped his arms around his stomach and shivered. The dream was still sharp and fresh in his mind, the images painfully clear.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to wash away the memory.

Sometimes, he regretted opening them.

To all sides, there were mountains. Harvey’s village, Selinae, was far to the west of Acune, Rodaria’s northern nation. Ferocious mountain ridges lined most of the eastern border and rose from the ground like jagged teeth. All directions, save west, were shrouded by the mountains, and the farther you went in any direction the rougher and steeper the terrain became.

When Harvey opened his eyes, he was facing east.

And he nearly died of fright.

He took off in a sprint, adrenaline pulsing through his veins and setting his muscles on fire. He sped down the steep incline that his home was own and nearly flew out from under his feet. He into the center of the village and grabbed a torch off its resting place next to a low pit in the village square. He tossed the torch inside of it and it immediately flared up in contact with the logs piled at the bottom. A thin, dagger sharp wire of fear had wrapped itself around his sanity and his mind was bleeding fear in unfair quantities. In a way, it had been worse than the dream, as his fear now was of a physical thing and of something that could easily and painfully kill him.

He screamed at the top of his lungs, and it came out hoarse and rough.

“MAGES!!!”

Doors flew open. Frightened men and women stepped out of homes. They gathered in a loose, confused circle around Harvey. Everyone in varying levels of being awake was all chattering fearfully. There was too much talking and not enough problem solving. He looked around at the ensemble frantically, until Mister Windfall made his way to the front of the small crowd. “Harvey” he said with concern in his voice, and, surprisingly, restlessness. “Are you alright? What happened?”

Harvey panted and pointed in the direction of his house. “I saw…them, coming from the east…” He gasped for breath between words, keeping them from pouring out of him in his desperation. “I don’t know…how many…”

“No, it’s fine, Harvey” the large man said. He clapped one hand on Harvey’s shoulder, but this time without the familiar warmth in his features. The wrinkles in his face deepened with worry. “I’m sorry something like this had to happen today, of all days.” He turned from the boy and faced the circle of villagers.

“The mages come from the east, says young Harvey” he bellowed, and all eyes suddenly turned toward him. “All men willing to fight stay. The rest, gather up the women and children and head north.” Before he had even finished speaking, the assembly had dispersed. In front of him was the small number of fight worthy men, standing with facades of confidence. Deep down, they felt the same fear that Harvey had. The fear of death, that ancient, primal feeling that makes a person want to crawl inside a hole and close it behind them. The pot-bellied man and the forefront turned to Harvey showing none of those things. Only concern and worry. “You’re seventeen now, Harvey.”

He paused, understandingly. “I know.”

“You’re obliged to fight.”

“…I know.”

His adoptive father’s voice was thick with emotion, too many to discern between them. “But you can leave with the women and children. You’re not a day past coming of age! You can still…” He trailed off, seeing the determination and resolve in the young man’s face.

“Mister Windfall” Harvey Starfield said. “I’m fighting.”

The large man did nothing for a second. Then he wrapped his arms around the boy that was the closest he had to a son. “…I knew you would” he said, and his voice shook.

“Dad! Harvey!”

He was released from his grasp and turned to see Julia. She had just been awoken, still in her nightgowns and her brown hair mussed. She didn’t seem to care. “Dad, Harvey, what happened? Someone yelled and everyone ran out of there houses and…and…” Realization showed on her face, which gave way to fear. She looked from her father to her adopted brother. “You’re…” she choked on the words, holding back the beginnings of tears. “You’re fighting?”

Harvey looked into her eyes. He had always loved those eyes. They always shone with the brightness of their host. But they didn’t today. Today they were large and watery, and they seemed so very tired. He pulled away before the tension increased. “Yes” was all he said.

Rare lines appeared on Julia’s face and her attempts to hold back her sadness failed. She stood there for an awkward second. At first, Harvey thought she was going to hug him. But she didn’t. She simply looked into his dark brown eyes and said, “Good luck.” Then she turned and half ran away.

Harvey stood there, basking in a tide of emotions. He locked eyes with the ground and didn't look away until Mister Windfall stood before him. The aging man held out a makeshift spear, four feet of wood with a jagged six-inch piece of metal tied to one end by a strip of cloth. "I'm sorry this happened" he said.

Harvey took the spear. And he, along with the other men fighting for the lives of their family, went east.
 
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tdc456

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For only being a part of a chapter, that was amazing.
I can't wait to see the rest of it.

That dream tripped me out man. Great job setting up the image.
 

Nazo

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Awesome job man. The description of the dream was vivid enough that I almost began to feel it myself (although it doesn't help that I'm half asleep right now, lol). Finish soon.
 

Athel

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And, another week later, Chapter 2 is still not done.

From now on, I guess I'll be doing weekly updates like this, due to the fact that I apparently can't get anything done on time.
 

Nazo

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And, another week later, Chapter 2 is still not done.

From now on, I guess I'll be doing weekly updates like this, due to the fact that I apparently can't get anything done on time.

Ya think? :lol:
You do it all the time.
 
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