Chapter 1: The Escape

Chapter 1:The Escape

      Ron's eyes slowly opened and he became aware of a throbbing pain on the back of his head. He put a hand to the area, feeling it worsen, as he touched his shaggy shoulder length hair, realizing it was matted and caked with dried blood. The last thing he could remember was driving in his beat up old Volkswagen on his way back home to spend Christmas with his family, as he did every year. He remembered a bolt of pitch black lightning, cutting across the blue sky horizontally, as if it had cracked open. Then there was nothing. It was as if he had amnesia, but there was only a portion of his memory was missing.

      He looked himself up and down, noting that his t-shirt and jeans were in pretty good shape, apart from some small tears and light fraying around the edges of his pant-legs. This did however make him realize something else: Both his arms and legs were chained to the wall, with heavy iron chains and cuffs. He stretched out his right hand to inspect the unwelcome confinements, making the chains clank and rattle as he did so. They looked new, but he had only seen this kind of thing in movies with a medieval prison cell.

      His head pounded and felt as if it weighed ten times its usual weight. His thoughts were coming in short bursts, through a hesitant fog of uncertainty. His surroundings would have normally alarmed him, but in his current state he readily accepted everything his senses reported as an immediate truth.

      He looked around, puzzled. Now that he came to think of it, the room he was in looked like a medieval dungeon. There was hay lightly strewn across the floor, which was filthy, with what Ron wasn’t sure he knew... or wanted to. The door and window were both just holes in the stone walls, filled in with vertical bars spaced about three inches apart. Outside the iron bars all Ron could see was a hallway of gray stone, with torches that weren’t lit hanging from the the wall.

      As he observed the small room he realized that he wasn't alone. There was a silent figure sitting in the other corner of the room, encased in shadows. When Ron really looked, he noticed that the figure had been staring at him, before Ron had even noticed he was there. “Uh, hello,” Ron said, almost in a whisper.

      “Hello there,” said the figure, in a way that was surprisingly friendly.

       Ron's head began to ache with a renewed vigor, he waited till the pain had subsided before trying to continue the conversation. “Do you know what's going on? And, um, why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, a little taken aback.

      “Well that's a vague question isn't it, there is plenty going on at all times. One would think it impossible to know everything that's going on everywhere, all the time. As for your other question, I'm in shackles in a cell, you're the best shot I've got get a modicum of entertainment, and it's damn boring down here,” said the figure with an air of amusement.

     “Umm okay, do you know why you're in here, or where we are?” asked Ron, still wary of the shadowy figure. He figured this man might know more than he did, at least.

     “Of coarse I know why I'm in here; I'm waiting for someone. As for where we are, I'm guessing it's some kind of dungeon, though I can never be sure,” the man said, snickering.

      Ignoring the sarcasm, Ron asked, “Who are you looking for in a dungeon?”

      “Someone who likes a middle-aged man like myself, has a good sense of humor, enjoys sunsets, and if it isn't too much too ask, is easy on the eyes,” he replied, chuckling.

      Ron decided not to ask too many more questions, as he didn't think he was going to get a straight answer.

      The man leaned into the light a little, showing a mane of salt and pepper hair around his entire head and green eyes that seemed to intelligently take in every possible detail they beheld. Then asked, “What about you, kid? Why are you here?”

      Ron sighed and said, “Honestly? No idea I was driving home and the next thing I knew I ended up here with a massive headache.”

      The man's brow creased as he seemed to intensify his gaze, appearing to thoroughly examine Ron, for the first time. As if something he said had unsettled the man. “Was there anything else that was strange, that happened just before you woke up here?” the man asked, all traces of mirth gone from his demeanor.

      Startled, Ron thought about the black lighting and whether he should tell the man about it. He didn't know this man; besides he wasn't even sure that had been real. He was just about to say “no” when something stopped him. It was a sudden urge to tell him, as if it was what he had to do, like it was destiny. “Yeah, I'm not sure, but I think I saw some lightning. It was weird, though; I think it was sideways,” he said, slowly.

      Now the man jumped to his feet and adopted a commanding air before asking, “What color was the lightning, boy? This is important. Exactly, what color?”

      Ron was surprised by the man's quick movements and knowledge that the lightning wasn't the normal color. “It... it was black; why? Is that important?” he asked, standing into a crouch.

      The man's eyes widened a little, though he quickly composed himself, and set his jaw, adopting a determined look. “Yes, that matters! We need to get out of here, NOW!” as he spoke the last words he walked forward into the light of the window, moving as if the ankle chains had ceased to exist, and spreading his wrists, the chains holding them together began to turn to dust.

      Ron quickly noticed that the chains holding him to the wall had somehow dissipated as well. He began rubbing his wrists, looked at the man in awe, and asked, “How the hell did you do that?”

      The man looked over at Ron and said, “magic;” This time, though, there weren’t any noticeable signs of the sarcastic tone the man had spoken with earlier.

      Ron began feeling lightheaded again, though this time it brought a wave of nausea. This time it took him several deep breaths to ease his symptoms, and he asked, skeptically, “Come on, man? Seriously. How'd you do it?.”

      “First of all, my name isn't 'man.' It's Bishop, exiled Archmage of the first realm. Second of all, I said...” he paused, interlacing his fingers one over the other as he placed his hand on the stone wall under the window. He pulled his hands apart on the stone but as he did so, it began to shimmer, as if his hands were gliding through the surface of a lake; “Magic,” he finished. He put his fist a couple inches into the wall and cursed. “Hmm, clever; They put up phase protection. Luckily for us, kid, they don't know who I am... and more importantly, they don't know who you are.”

      Ron's jaw dropped; he had never seen anything like it. Who was this man? And what did he mean? “So, uhh, who am I exactly?” Ron asked slowly and without fully closing his jaw.

      Bishop moved over to the cell door, began looking it up and down, and said, “Have you forgotten? Tsk tsk. Well I suppose that explains why you haven’t told me your name; At least I know you're not rude.”

      “No, I haven't forgotten; It's Ron. I'm just not quite used to waking up in a medieval-looking cell with a shaggy looking magical man for a cellmate,” Ron replied. He had a feeling Bishop could have killed him, but his wise-a*s remarks weren’t helping Ron with the shock of everything, though he was slightly glad Bishop was reverting to his sarcasm and jokes.

      “Ha, ya know I actually think I like you, boy,” Bishop replied as he put his palms to two of the iron cell bars. The sleeves of his old raggedy tunic seemed to pulsate with air for an instant, then the bars flew into the opposite end of the hallway taking chunks of the stone where they were embedded and causing some of the torches on the wall to topple to the ground.

      “Seriously, how the fu--” Ron began.

      “Uhhp, manners, Ron, manners. I will give you the short version if you promise to keep up with me, can you do that kid?”

      “Yes, I can but, please stop calling me 'boy' or 'kid' I'm twenty-six, you know,” Ron answered.

      “Oh, forgive me, m'lord. I didn't know. You see I am rather young myself, barely got out of the womb one-hundred-seventy-six years ago. Now do you want to know some of what's going on?” Bishop asked, stepping into the hallway, bowing, and pointing his hands down the left side of the hallway.

      Ron sighed; This was his best chance to get out of that cell and Bishop didn't seem like he wanted to do him any harm. “Fine, but eventually the short version is gonna have to turn in tothe full version. I mean, if you know what's going on here with me, then you can see where I'm a little lost at the moment,” Ron said crossing through where the cell door had once been and begging to walk in the direction Bishop was gesturing towards.

      As he walked Bishop began to keep pace and walk next to him, and he noticed for the first time how tall Bishop was. Ron didn't consider himself short at 6”2 but this man towered over him by at least five inches, though he thought they weighed about the same, as he was a much broader build than the slender man. Due to the height difference, he had to struggle slightly to keep up with the man's long, striding footsteps as they made their way through the dark corridors of what seemed like a castle.

      “Okay, kid, I'll tell you the longer version later, but if I stop talking don’t make a sound. It means someone may be nearby; It's safe to say they heard that ruckus,” said Bishop, as he looked around a corner and motioned that it was clear.

      “You got it; Out of curiosity shouldn't there be someone watching us to make sure we don't escape if we're captives?” asked Ron, now speaking in a hushed tone.

      “No, don’t worry about it, they didn't think anyone could escape the cell. It was enforced with a powerful wizard's magic; Now would you let me get to the story? Knowledge is power and whatnot,” Bishop said, waving his left hand as he spoke.

      “By all means,” Ron replied, waving his hand sarcastically, the same way that Bishop had.

      Bishop rubbed the hair on his chin as he began; “Right, where to start.... Ah, I think I know. Think of where you come from, your world, if you will. Then think of seven versions of it, all having the same beginning history up to a certain point; These seven versions are called Realms. The history changes at one point in each of the realms; That's when magic comes into the picture. In each Realm, magic came into being at a different point in history, thus changing how each realm developed. This Realm was the first to have magic introduced; One day the world was just... different.

      “We realized something was changing in the world, there were people that could do amazing things all of a sudden. It affected the land, some people, creatures, and, well, everything else. in a way. This new Magic replaced our science, aided us in our everyday needs, and drastically changed our religious vie--” He stopped, pulled Ron into a hallway, and motioned for him to be quiet. There was a far off thumping and rattle of footsteps and steel from nearby.

      They waited till it dissipated to start moving again. Bishop sighed; “Phew, that was a close one; I would prefer to avoid a fight if possible,” This time he was whispering; “Then eventually we felt another change, we tried to figure out what was different. We felt an inexplicable urge to build a gateway. To where, we didn't know at the time, but it turned out to be another Realm, after magic came into their world. They had more scientific breakthroughs than us but we are more experienced at magic.

      “We have a pact not to interact too much, as the magic is as dangerous as it is amazing. Eventually six of the seven realms discovered it later and later in history, and came to an agreement not to interfere with the others. However, we soon realized that magic's negative side has a physical embodiment in every Realm. They are different creatures, with different forms in every Realm, but in all of them they are known as The Darkness. No one knows where they come from, but they attack anything and everything they see.

      They are extremely dangerous. Even when we assembled this entire Realm to beat all twenty thousand, we realized every time we defeat their army, it comes back stronger only a year later. The only way to keep them from attacking is to capture one. For some reason if the horde doesn't all die, then they can't attack with more troops; Thus we were at peace for a long time, until recently.

      “A group calling themselves the Grey Ones rose up with the intention of setting the last Dark One free and killing it, thus heralding a new battle with stronger enemies. These are the people whose castle you find yourself in. We don't know why they want this; Probably the hope of gaining abilities in Dark Magic. The fools. As a precaution we sent away for the one in your currently magic-less Realm, who we felt had the most aptitude for Magic; You, Ron. We picked you out of every other person in your Realm;” now they stopped walking and Bishop once again adopted a serious face. “If we train you then you are going to have to go back to your Realm, after your training, in order to teach magic and morally guide your Realm, in its use.

      They will need to unite to fight off your Realm's Darkness, with you serving as their Archmage;” As he said the last words, he put his hand on Ron's shoulder. “I'm sorry; It's a lot to take in and you have to do it rather quickly, but I will tell you the full story to help you understand... once we are safe.”

      Ron looked the man up and down, he didn't really have a choice; He didn't know what to believe. There simply wasn't enough information about Bishop to believe everything. The head wound felt like it was pulsing to the fast-paced beat of his heart. Again there was a nagging feeling in his gut, telling him to go with Bishop and at least find out if what he had to say was true. “Fine, but this better add up, and you better tell me everything or I'm gone,” he said, beginning to walk again.

      “Good, come on then! We've got to get out of here,” said Bishop. “Now we should stop talking. We're getting near the troop's quarters.” From that point on, they made their way in quite silence, stopping whenever they heard a noise.

      They soon found themselves in the doorway of a massive rectangular room. The whole room seemed to have ornately carved lines and shapes whirling around pillars, on walls, and on the ceiling. The floor was smooth, shiny, and pitch black, it seemed to reflect everything in the room. Ron found the effect of the floor and the carvings together to be a breathtaking sight indeed.

      “Welcome to the west gate of Castle Vraistalker; Few have seen its beauty since the Grey Ones took over; Consider yourself fortunate,” Bishop said proudly, gesturing to the room. As his hand moved across the room, the carvings began to emit a dark blue light which reflected in the floor, illuminating the entirety of the room.

      Ron's jaw dropped and he gasped; “It... it's amazing.”

      “No argument there, prisoner,” came a nasally voice from the behind the hallway at the far end of the room. A man stepped into the blue light; He was wearing Grey robes, with no designs or colors. There was a hood drawn over his face and he was holding a long wooden staff that had similar carvings to the walls, though the ones in his staff were pulsating with darkness. Go back to your cells now and we won't turn you into tools for The Bone Seer.”

      Ron didn't know what a Bone Seer was, and he wasn't eager to find out. He looked over and whispered, “Bishop, what should we do?”

      Bishop looked at him, not showing a single sign of concern at the men's arrival and said, “Take three steps back and stay there; It's time to stretch my legs.” Then he looked at the men across the room and calmly said, “I'll give you one chance; Run, now, and I won't kill the both of you.”

       Ron did as he was told and stood, heart pounding and head buzzing with questions again.

       The men laughed and one flung his staff with a flick of his wrist and sent a huge fireball whirling straight at Bishop's head. Right as it was about to hit Bishop, the room filled with steam and it fizzled out of existence, mere inches from his face. Bishop hadn't moved an inch. The men looked at each other, eyes wide, and began to spin their staffs around their body as if in a dance.

      As they sped up their movements things began to happen quickly. Fire, ice, and large chuncks of stone began materializing, then flying towards Bishop. He put up a hand and mumbled something, under his breath. Something sparked in front of him and began to grow with a blue light. It took on the shape of a massive creature, ten feet tall, and brutish. If that wasn't enough Ron noticed it seemed to be made of a current of electricity and something else indescribable. He felt there was something there, an aura of sorts giving it power, but he couldn't place what it was.

      The creature ran towards both of the men, while their projectiles seemed to disintegrate against it. They furiously increased the pace of their offensive dance, but no matter what they threw at it, the creature was unaffected. It converged on them. It seemed to slam into them with a large static noise and then a massive BANG. When Ron looked, he realized there was a hole in the stone where it must have crashed into them, and they were nowhere to be found. “Ho...ly... s**t,” Ron said, eyes bulging from the sheer shock of what had happened.

      “Right then,” Bishop said looking back at Ron; “I believe its time to make our way out of this castle before more of them come.”

      Ron still couldn't think straight. He managed get out, “al... alright.” He didn't want to argue, he had never seen anyone killed before. The experience left him feeling sick and exhausted; All he wanted to do was get out of that castle to somewhere he could sleep and try to digest all the information that was flying at him.

      Bishop seemed to know what he was thinking and said, “Things have to get harder before they get easier, but I promise they will get easier.” He paused, putting one arm over Ron's shoulder and said, “And don't worry. I'll be with you every step of the way.”

      From there, they made there way out of the castle, in silence. As they stepped through the gate into the sunlight, Ron squinted at the sun, which seemed to shine in more of a pulsing fashion than what he was used to. The beauty was enough to make him temporarily clear his head and think of something other than his predicament. Well, he thought, at least the scenery here is nice. He walked in silence, not knowing where he was going, or what he was going to do, but knowing that his life would never be the same again.

Author's Note

I've only written a few chapters of this, the first on is probably the most unfinished, but I figure it's necessary so far for back story purposes.

Reviews

[Lia Orinoco]

I really like it, but when I tried to post my earlier review the stupid thing deleted it. so this is gonna be not nearly as detailed as I'd like:
Grammar: Some little mistakes, like commas and a couple of unclear sentences:
"we realized (that) every time we defeat their army, it comes back stronger only a year later."
Every time there's a sentence, check:
If there's two separate subjects, each doing something different (2 subj. 2 verbs) put in a comma.
Also, I noticed that you use a LOT of semicolons. Where you're using them, really a simple comma or period will suffice. A semicolon is for linking to separate sentences, to show that they are connected in meaning. It's like building a bridge between sentences.
Also, due to their rarity among works, they tend to disrupt reading a little. Semicolons sort of... disrupt the flow of a piece. They're typically used to call attention to certain sentences.
But I'm really liking the story!
Your writing and vocab is much more advanced than a lot of stuff I've read.
Ron is a very believable character, and his reactions are so realistic and, well, real. They're true to a typical person. I especially liked his reaction to the two men's death.
The Bishop, too, is a great character. Typically, the great mages in stories like these are old farts with no sense of humor. A sarcastic, quippy mage is, frankly, pretty awesome!
This book really stands out from the average internet-fare, and is really good and catchy. The story picks you up and carries you along, like a giant river that you've fallen into when your cousin pushed you in. Really awesome!

[NoblePariah]

Wow, thank you very much for this in depth review! I reread this after your review and realized there's definitely a lot of grammatical issues (this was my third attempt at writing ever, so I was newer to it) I plan to rewrite the early chapters of this book entirely, now that I have a bit more experience, for sentence structure and grammar. I'm glad you enjoyed the characters, and the story, I actually had my doubts about continuing this further, but now I do think that I will return to it. Again, thank you for taking the time to read, and for your extensive review!

[Acropolix]

There are a few grammar mistakes I noticed, so let's start with those... first paragraph: "there was only a portion of his memory was missing", leave out the 'was' in front of missing. Seventh parapgraph: "you are the best shot I've got get a modicum of entertainment", maybe swap 'get' with 'for'. And lastly, at the end of the story: " "No argument there, prisoner" came a nasally voice from the behind the hallway" Leave out the 'the' in front of behind.

I think the story builds up nicely with a detailed description of the surroundings. Though you greatly increase the speed at the most important part where we learn why Ron is so important in this story. Perhaps you could express the thoughts of Ron here some more. Does he think the old man has gone crazy? Or does he feel surprised that it's him of all the people in his realm that has been chosen as Archmage?

Also, the battle between the Grey Ones takes place rather fast. You introduce one single Grey One by having him speak up, then suddenly Bishop starts addressing two Grey Ones. This left me confused at first, so make sure you introduce two Grey Ones instead of just one. The battle evolves rather quickly leading to a fast death of the Grey Ones. I sense the archmage took a fair effort to finish them off, but it read as if he was killing ants with a boot.

Furthermore, they leave the castle after this fight rather easily, considering the importance of the prisoners. Where there no guards at the gate? At least give some reason why they left the castle so easily.

Now for the praise! I like the fast-set adventure in this story and also the idea of seven realms makes me hungry for more. I think you created a very interesting world. I hope my comment isn't too critical, these are only personal opinions so don't be forced to change it all. After all, we all love our books in different styles.
I will be reading the other chapters soon too! Keep up the good work!

[NoblePariah]

To start, I'd just like to thank you for reading and reviewing. I'll definitely be working on those grammar problems, (It irritates the crap out of my professors so I'm glad you mentioned them.) With regards to Ron's thoughts I actually thought I had touched upon that but I think I accidentally deleted the paragraph where I did. (though, I'm trying to keep it a bit vague, due to the concussion he woke up with) I will be adding quite a bit to the story, with focus on after they get out of the cell, I'm just lazy with revisions as I enjoy churning out the new chapters of the story.
As for the Grey Ones, I'll be sure to add the second one's introduction to that part. I can probably add more description to the fight, but it was my intention for Bishop to not break a sweat against the Grey Ones. Without giving away too much I'll say they're not really the main threat posed in the story, something happens a couple chapters in that's going reveal a new enemies, and a lot of them, at which point Ron's life becomes dramatically more difficult, it also starts to push the limits of Bishop's power (he's meant to be one of the first, and strongest mages of all time.)
I didn't do a very good job of explaining it, but the black room was actually the entrance/ exit hall, I forgot to mention that that was the gate. As for their ease of escape, the Grey Ones didn't know who Bishop and Ron were, and thus weren't ready for Bishop's excessive power. That, the reason for the lack of guards, and a lengthier version of the whole situation get explained to Ron a little down the road in the chapter I'm working on now. Though I can see why you'd pick out those details in this chapter.
Also I'm glad you like the pace and idea, but I don't think your comment was too critical at all. I think honest opinions are vital to improving my work as it shows me what works and what doesn't. (I've only just started writing for recreation last winter, so that's something I'm still trying to get the hang of.) Once again, thanks for the review, it certainly is gonna help me to streamline this story and make it a better read.

[Acropolix]

I thank you kindly for your positive reaction. I was thinking the same myself while commenting on this chapter, since you are writing a story after all and shouldn't be telling all there is to know in just one go. I mainly considered the magic to be not described as awesome power to Ron, who certainly admires the grandness of such play as someone who has never seen even the weakest form of magic. Ron certainly must have experienced the arcane battle as a magnificent show-off of awesome powers, whereas Bishop might have shown only minor powers to finish off with the Grey Ones. But let me be clear when I state that you certainly set the right atmosphere for Ron to start his adventure with a mysterious mage with even more mysterious answers. Simply put, as a reader we must crawl into the mind of Ron and think what he thinks, experience what he experiences.