Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A Chapter by Iron K. Tager

The beginning of this story as you know it.


The door shut on the other side of the shop, and small footsteps were heard against the wooden floor.  A few of the panels squeaked, and the foot steps took a jump and land only a few feet forward.
            “What’cha doin’?” asked a little girl’s curious voice.
            “I’m just fixing up shop before we get the mid-day crowd,” the soft and deep voice chuckled, “if we ever get one.”
The small footsteps hit off into a spin.  “What to do today,” she sung out with a sigh.
            The tiny clack-clack of sandals caught the spin, and the small footsteps grow closer.  From the sound it could be told they where heading down a short hallway, slowly clapping along.  Once the steps got to a door they stopped flat, and nothing moved.  Then they spun around and quickly ran back to the front.
            “Lance!  There is someone in the medicine room!” the small voice was as excited as was surprised.  “Did something happen?  Who is he?  Why is he not wearing a shirt?”
            “Calm down, calm down,” he said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.  “Soro just dropped him off not long ago and told me to watch over him for a while.  Please don’t wake him.”
            The small clacking footsteps walked back down the hall and stopped at the door before moving on.  Clunking sounds follow the remaining path upstairs until they are no longer audible.  Larger and heavier steps come down the hall and stopped in the doorway, the sound of fabric ruffling in the quiet room.
            “Hopefully…” he paused, sighing.  “Hopefully people won’t get the wrong impression,” he said softly, before putting the fabric back, turning around and heading upstairs. 

            Slowly his eyes started to open.  Brown, brown was everywhere.  Brown wood was visible, with the flicker of light dancing around its many cracks and crevices.  Slowly he turned his head to the right, where a doorway was to the left of a blank wall across from him.  In the middle of the blank wall, near the door, was a small black table with incense burning in a shallow, black dish.  His head turned to the other side to see a large tapestry draped over the wall that was right up against were he laid, with an unknown symbol or mark on it.
            ‘Where am I?’ his thoughts slowly formed.

It hurt for him to lift up his head.  Lamps were hung on the wall over his feet and head.  He let his head drop, which hurt almost as much as keeping it up, and made a loud thunking sound.  Grimacing at the pain, he flinched at the sound both small and heavy footsteps made quickly coming down the stairway.  They both stopped at the door, and he pretended to be asleep.
            “Go and tend to the front,” the male voice whispered.  The small clacks ran to the front of the wooden building, opened the door, and shut it behind them.
            “Sorry, but you can’t fool me, I’m an expert,” says the manly voice sympathetically sarcastic.  After waiting for a response he continued, “If you want, I can twist your arm until you come-to, and in your condition I doubt that would be a good thing.”
            Slowly he opened his eyes to see the large man take up practically the entire doorframe: his wide, muscular body barely fitting in a dark green t-shirt with an apron around it.  “My name is Lance,” said the man warmly, “what’s yours?”
            “Jeremy...” he responded in uncertainty, and then added, “Where am I?”
            “You don’t know?” asked the man, a little concerned.  “Well, do you remember what happened?”

“N-no,” Jeremy answered.  “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said.  “They found you passed out at the shrine.  You woke up, but they couldn’t say two words before you passed out again.  You poor thing, must have gone through quite a bit, I mean just look at you.”
            “Look at what?” Jeremy looked down at where Lance was implying and saw white and red scars all over his chest and stomach, as well as a few purple paths under his skin. He was almost breathless in an instant, surprised at his condition.  “What… what happened to me?”
            Lance shrugged his wide shoulders, “They found you that way.  Well, you where wearing a shirt.” He picked up the short-sleeved grey and blue shirt that was lying next to the door.  He looked at it as if he was evaluating it closely, and then looked back up at Jeremy.  “So, Jeremy, how did you get here, if you know?”
            “I-I don’t know,” he stammered, still looking at his body.  “Where is here?” he managed to ask.

“Please try to calm down a little,” Lance said with obvious sympathy.

“S-,” Jeremy began, but felt his body tremble.  He inhaled, and then exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a brief moment.  “Sorry."

Lance sighed and turned around, walking down the hall.  Jeremy drank the entire contents of the cup, quenching the thirst he almost did not notice.  Lance came back with a wooden stool and set it next to the bed Jeremy is sitting up in.  He looked at Jeremy; turned around, reached for the shirt he had placed down, and then gave it to him.  He watched Jeremy put it on and sighed.
            “Well, I have a guess,” he commented to himself while running his hand through his short, black hair.  “Well, yes and no,” his voice trailed off, “I think it would be better if you asked questions to Soro or someone else, I’m not too good at answering those.  He’ll probably give you a better answer.”
            “Soro?”  Jeremy asked inquisitively, “didn’t you say he brought me here?”
            “Yes.  I’ll take you to him in a few minutes,” Lance responded as he stood up.  “Step outside for a little and get yourself some fresh air, I’ll be right out.”  His steps drummed against the floor as he walked away.
            Jeremy wobbled as he turned to his right and hung his feet over the edge of the bed, jumping down.  He landed awkwardly, but caught himself before falling.  His head felt dizzy from standing up.  The candle lamps flickered as he walked forward and leaned up against the darker, wooden doorway, which had no door attached to it.  He looked to the right.  A brightly lit doorway was across the hall, but the angle didn’t allow him to see inside, and two steps wrapped around a corner out of sight further down.
            Jeremy slowly walked to his left, being that is where he had heard the door.  He passed through what looked like an antique shop, with suspended shelves filled with a random assortment of miscellaneous objects.  There was a square, standing display filled with poles, brooms, umbrellas, and many other things in-between him and what looked like an old, wooden check-out desk on the other side, which had nothing on it.    A dusty window to the left of the display was the only source of light for the shop, and the sun cast a dull light on the floor across the room from where he was slowly walking.
            As he opened the door, a wave of light temporarily blinded him until his eyes could adjust; he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.  Jeremy stopped to see a little girl with a red headband,
a white shirt with the short sleeves rolled up under a small, black vest that led down and connected with a black skirt.  She was turned in the other direction.  After hearing him, she turned around.
            “Lan-… oh, it’s just you,” she said rather snobbishly, pretending to look away in some form of disgust before snapping back. She glared at him for a minute before she stepped over and opened the door, slamming it behind her. 
            ‘I didn’t even say anything,’ Jeremy thought to himself.
            The street was made of packed dirt, with little pebbles scattered in it.  Most of the structures were two or one-story wooden buildings that looked like shops or open-air businesses, most of which had hanging lamps near the door.  The small amount of people around were all wearing old dresses, robes, or tunics, with the heat causing some to use hand fans.
            Jeremy looked up to see where the sun was in the sky as he tried to guess the time, using his arm to shield his eyes.  A sudden feeling of being intensely watched came over him.  He looked down from the sky and in both directions of the road, but settled down after seeing no one was looking at him, though he still felt a little insecure.
            A slight whisper, somewhat musically, came from next to his ear.  “I found you.” Jeremy turned around to see nothing there.  Suddenly, a darkly-shaded rip in mid-air behind of him opened a hole out of nothing.  A hand reached out, grabbed him, and pulled him into the opening before resealing back to normal.

© 2013 Iron K. Tager

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Added on June 24, 2013
Last Updated on September 25, 2013
Tags: Chapter 1, Break Down the Unknown, Jeremy, Lance


Iron K. Tager
Iron K. Tager


Hello! I'm not really that good of a writer at all, but I do enjoy writing. I tend to only write things when I feel like it, so sometimes I go long stretches without putting anything down. I wrote .. more..