The War of Elysium | Teen Ink

The War of Elysium

October 28, 2013
By MasonM44 SILVER, maynard, Iowa
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MasonM44 SILVER, Maynard, Iowa
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Favorite Quote:
Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.


Author's note: I thought I'd try to write a short novel. This is just the first couple chapters. There will be more to come in later dates. I am still in the process of writing the full thing.

A fire flickered in the fireplace, sending sparks up and out the bricked chimney. Azral smiled, the dull orange light reflecting off her while pearls, illumination her pale features. Her blue eyes stared at the lambent fire, sparkling like the sea as the sun beat down on a hot day. She had inky black hair, dark as the sky at midnight, with small flecks of color glazing off as the light of day reflected off her black curls. They fell in ashy waves down her back and hugged her waist as she swayed back and forth, her head moving a slight pattern that would’ve left a ballet dancer speechless.
Shadowy light speckled in the room, casting intricate shadows around, darkening the faces of the mother and child who sat hunched near the orange-red flame. Their gazes were fixated on the moving, alive element that warmed their hands as they rested them mere inches away from the heat.
“What is that, mommy?” Azral asked, learning her head on her mother’s soft, inviting shoulder. Her mother wore a silk robe reaching to her feet like an elegant dress wore only to bed. Dull blue slippers coated her feet, scratching the wooden ground as she slid her feet across the wood. Azral’s inky hair spilled over her mother’s shirt, filling the empty space between them. Jasamine laughed, her adult voice ringing out and resonating off the brick walls. She set her head gently over her mother’s forefront, their hair tousling and tangling with each other’s.
“It’s a fire, sweetheart,” Jasamine said, running her hand over her daughter’s soft hair. She let her hand fall to where Azral’s hand lay on the floor, entwining their fingers with one another’s.
“It’s pretty,” she said, drawing out her words, her toddler voice unable to recreate the vowels her mother used so flawlessly. They both laughed, their voices filled the air around, the sound rippling in the space.
“It is pretty,” Jasamine assured her daughter, rubbing her hand over her back, soothing her to the point of a sigh. She slipped into a dreamless sleep, letting her mother’s pacifying touch calm her to slumber.

When she woke, the sound of crying filled the room. Azral curled herself up, hauling her knees to her chest in an attempt to comfort herself. She closed her eyes and listened, letting her hearing wander through the house. For a moment there was nothing. Not the slightest sound. Only the relentless wind howling against their cottage. The fire had burned itself out, the wood finally turning to dust after its long night of warmth.
Azral couldn’t help but find that odd. Her mother always kept a steady fire. Always made sure her precious daughter was comfortable in the small space they were confined to while her father was away. Azral took in a breath of air, letting its cold touch envelope her lungs; but too soon it was over. She sighed and the air ran out of her, spiraling in the air, its warm touch comforting until it dispersed, leaving Azral with a longing for the warmth her icy body desired.
Azral jumped, hearing the sound of pans hitting the wooden ground, sending a splintering noise resonating through the subzero cabin. Her mother screamed, Azral shut her eyes tighter, seeing only the black nothingness of her mind. A tear squeezed its way through her shut eyelid and painted a trail down her face, leaking to the cold cabin floor. Her mother screamed again and Azral lost it. She stood up and ran to the kitchen, only a few feet away. Her mother was on the ground, tears stinging her eyes and blood staining her face and clothes.
A man stood above her mother, his face a mask of rage. His eyebrows her sewn to his eyes and his mouth was as sharp as the knife he held in his hands. The man’s hand was clenched tightly around a cleaver. He held it above him, blood dripping from it and splattering his face. The man had a dark complexion. His hair was midnight black, reigning down around his face in greasy waves. His narrowed eyes shone blue, his sea color boring into her mother’s horrified face. Jasamine turned her head to gaze at her daughter. Azral hugged her arms to her chest as her body shook, sending waves of sweat down the child’s flawless pale face.
“Azral,” Jasamine screamed, struggling up as she waved her arms in shooing, tears streaming fluidly from both eyes. “Get away. Run, sweetheart!” Azral turned on her heel and ran. Her feet hit the ground hard as she ran across the wooden ground and threw open the wooden door. It squeaked just a few inches, but it was more than enough for Azral to get though. She shot out the door like a bullet, hearing the man behind her stop in his tracks as he attempted to pry the door open more. By the time he had, Azral was already long gone; disappeared into the never-ending woods that lay around her house.
The last thing she heard before she collapsed was the sound of her mother’s screams.

Azral dreamed about many things for the rest of the night. Her mother’s screams, the man’s knife, his face as he saw her daughter. She could only imagine what had happened to her mother because she didn’t want to have to face the truth about what had really happened. Azral knew full well what had gone down between the two adults; she just couldn’t bring herself to think about what the outcome was. It was too much, too much for her to process on her own. She needed someone, someone to help her.
She needed her mother.
But she knew that wasn’t an option. And it probably never would be again. Her mother was gone. And she would never see her again. Azral’s breathing speed up as she began to hyperventilate. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her rapid intakes of breath, but it did little to no good.
Sobs struck her eyes, rolling down her face as they dripped to the now snow crested ground. Azral had just noticed that. Last night it had only stormed, but apparently sometime during her horrifying night, snow fell from the sky, bathing the land in white riches.
Azral looked into the distance, spotting the white snow-capped mountains, their haunting tips poised at the bright blue skies. At that moment, looking at her favorite landmark, she knew—
Her mother was dead.

“Azral!” Will called, his voice reverberating around the diamond white, snow plastered ground. Her head whipped around, the wind billowing and blowing her inky hair into her pale face. Her arms began to relax, the bow straightening itself out as she sighed and jumped, falling twenty feet to the ground and landing gracefully on her feet.
Azral looked around, her blue eyes scanning her white surroundings for a sign of her friend. It took her only moments to spot Will leaning against a tree, his arms crossed over his large chest. He had midnight black hair that was chopped short and embraced his sharp features. Will stared at her with emerald eyes boring into her, making out the depths of her soul. The side of his mouth was twitched up in half a smile Azral craved to see time and time again. She couldn’t help herself from grinning back. Her white teeth flashed, a spectral of light flying from her mouth.
“Will,” Azral said, her voice a mixture of happiness and surprise. She looked at him steadily but his face didn’t change from the slight smile. Several seconds passed before Azral spoke again. “What are you doing here?”
Will chuckled and pushed himself off the tree. “I’m here to see what you got us to eat, Azral.” She blushed and gazed down at her feet. Azral had nothing to accommodate his wishes. She had gotten nothing. The animals had not been eager to die.
“I’m sorry to say that no animals had crossed my path. They were being overly cautious, despite the fact they probably didn’t know how vigilant they were being.”
Will allowed a glimmer of laughter before he made his way to where Azral stood facing him, her bow held in a tight grasp between her clawing fingers. Azral couldn’t help but notice how great he looked in the diming sunlight. How the orange rays grazed his skin and turned his emerald eyes slightly rubicund. His black hair trickled around his face in the slightest, allowing the dull breeze to blow the strands across his sleek featured face. The obscure clothes he wore lightened in the nimble sun set and as he walked cast intricate shadows dancing across the crimson snow, the exact color of blood. She knew it was only the elaborate light of the sun, but she couldn’t help but remember how blood stained the ground gets after an intense war. Azral shuddered and banished the thought to the back of her mind.
“Such a shame,” Will commented. “Oh, well,” he said, shrugging his buff shoulders. “We have plenty of food for the five of us. At least for a few more days.”
“I hope,” Azral said, more to herself that to anyone else. Will found his way to Azral’s right side and let his arm rest on her slim shoulder. She could feel the heat of his skin on hers. Could feel the intense desire she felt when she was near him. Azral couldn’t help but wonder if Will felt the same way about her.
“Trust me,” he said, his voice no more than a soft whisper. The words slid through her mind like a silk ribbon in the wind and she reveled in them. “We’ll have enough. Plus, you’re the best hunter I know. You will have more food in no time. Just trust yourself, okay. Can you do that? For me?” She looked up into his eyes and saw the sincerity of them. Azral nodded. “Thanks.”
“Are we ready to leave?” asked a woman, appearing miraculously from behind a large oak. Azral looked at Will with confused eyes. He averted his gaze, looking at the woman known as Isabelle as she stalked the two teenagers. She had long brown hair that reached her mid back and fell in waves around her shoulders. Her matching brown eyes were tainted on the two, suspicious of their actions. Azral really didn’t mind Isabelle, but sometimes she got a bit too observant and involved in her mind.
“We’re leaving?” Azral asked. Will gaped at the crimson ground, his face an unreadable mask.
“Yes,” he said. Azral sighed, hanging her head and letting her hair cloud her face. “Have they found us again?”
“No,” Will assured her, letting his hand slide from her shoulder. “But there are two armies nearing each other and, as of now, we stand in the middle of the upcoming battle. We must leave here and avoid any unnecessary combat.”
“You’re right,” Azral said. “We have no choice but to move on.” Azral let her mind slip into the details of the War of Elysium.

It all started ten years ago, when the three Kingdoms of Elysium began to develop a feud between one another. Their leaders began to desire more power, and they would do anything to get that power. The three Kingdoms; the Kingdom of Lance; the City of Old; and the Alisto Empire; began to grapple for authority. Each Kingdom had a different specialty, and the other empires wanted the power of its brothers. And so the war began. It began out of nothing and quickly began to escalate to all-out war between each of the brothering Kingdoms.
Over time, each empire has had the lead, then lost it. At first, the Kingdom of Lance had the upper hand, considering they were the largest of all the empires. But they were not as advanced in military techniques. They quickly began to lose their man power to the highly trained Alisto Empire. Not only were the men of Alisto Empire highly skilled in combat, but they also had the most powerful weapons in all of Elysium.
The Astrals.
The Alisto Empire possessed many Astrals. Astrals are evolved humans who have grown past the limitations of normal human beings and began a separate race altogether. There are basically five separate breeds of Astrals, and they were named separately according to their specific ability. The first of the Astrals were the Seraphics. It was said that, since they have the ability to control one or more of the celestial elements, they were born out of the elements themselves.
The second type of Astrals were the Azures, or more so known as “healers”. Once trained, they could heal almost every wound, or cure nearly every sickness. The Azures had virtually no limitations. Sometimes, even death was not enough to stop them. The Alisto Empire possessed many of these Astrals. It was a major factor in their near victory.
But the Azures were stopped by the Rapturers. You see, the five types of Astrals each have another Astrals they are both strong and weak against. The Azures were weak against the Rapturers. They had such a strong physical strength, the Rapturers could crush all the bones in a human body with a single punch, or destroy the ground with a kick of their heel. Even an Azure couldn’t heal a human from that kind of damage. But despite their strength, they were not as fast as the Creesers.
A Creeser was not very physically strong, but they were incredibly fluent in the art of weapons. Their speed and grace mixed with deadly weaponries were enough to take down a Rapturer.
But even against each of the different Astrals, there were still the Empyrals, the strongest humans who ever walked the earth. They were very literally immortal in battle. With their celestial abilities, they were able to manipulate both time and reality. Many Empyrals could send themselves back in time to stop certain events, but the flaw in that ability was, first, it took a lot of preparation. And second, once the Empyral left the present time, they would never be able to return to that time again. And considering there are so few Empyrals, they choose not to waste their lives by going far back into the past unless it was a matter of life and death.
The second part to an Empyrals celestial abilities was their power to control reality. It works different for each Empyral who uses the technique, but the simple concept remains the same. They can bend the laws of reality. If something bad happens such as them, or a comrade dies, for instance, they can bend reality and turn that horrid even into nothing more than a dream. It very literally causes a disturbance between the land of reality and the land of dreams, for those are the laws he can bend. But he can only bend those laws for a few seconds. He cannot bend the laws of reality and dream for a dead man who has been gone for ten years, or even ten minutes. No Empyrals abilities are that powerful.
So in the end, the Alisto Empire has nearly prevailed in the war seeing as they possess many Azures and Seraphics and even an Empyral. But there is a storm coming. A storm that cannot be won by the three Kingdoms separately. Azral knew it. She could feel it in her bones. She knew that someday and somehow the three Kingdoms will have to work together to fight against an enemy that could destroy Elysium and all three Kingdoms in it.
They will have too.



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