Chapter 1: Invasion

Luco sets off to find a home.

                After the fight was done, I was surrounded in coins and covered in blood. I loved my job: Sword fighting. It hurts at first, but once you get cut up enough you feel nothing. That’s why I always won.

                My name is Luco. You probably already guessed it, but I fight in the streets for money. Yeah, sounds painful and not-even-close to fun, but I love it for the money. I’ve never lost a match in 3 years.

People see me with my scars in the streets, and they never would even dare touch me. Just about everyone knows who I am, and that makes me dangerous to them. Yet life wasn’t good for me back then. It’s a long story, so sit back and listen to how I got here:

 

                Forians threw fire at my city like maniacs. People ran around grabbing their children, crying for mercy. I was only eleven ( now 19 ), and I didn’t understand politics and war. Pretty much, I had no idea what was going on. My parents had built an underground room in our home. There was some toys, barrels of wine, and a basket of bread. I had no idea what it was, but I knew I would use it. My parents had left me in there alone during the invasion, and they said they’d never see me again. All I could do was sob. At first, there was loud explosions outside our house, but then it grew quiet.

I pushed open the trap door and everything was different. My entire house was destroyed, I could see that most of the houses around were destroyed too. I walked out of the rubble. There lay skeletons, people kneeling at them and sobbing. I wasn’t sure if my parents were dead, but my life was gone as I knew it. So I ran off to somewhere�"Yet I didn’t exactly know where.

 

I took a small break at a little village where fellow Terabians wandered and went with their business. I sat at a small inn, where a bartender sold wine and drinks. I asked for wine, since my parents were somewhere  else and I could do what I want.

“How old are you, kid?” The bartender asked rudely.

“Eleven,” I said happily, hoping for some wine.

The bartender sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “You’re not old enough to drink this stuff.”

I grabbed the bartender angrily. “Look at me! My entire city was destroyed, I have no money, and I have NO PARENTS!”

The bartender, scratching his ugly beard nodded. “Fine, but you’re going to leave here once you get this drink, you hear me?”

I nodded. I kind of wanted to leave the rude bartender anyway. So the bartender handed me his drink and I left the inn, grateful for a drink. Maybe with sympathy like this, I thought, I could find a pretty nice place to stay.   

Author's Note

Yes I know it's short, because I plan on this being a short book, almost a short story.