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[deleted user]
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Jul 23, 2015 08:23AM
Hi! This is a story I am working on currently. Remember that this is: ©opyright. If I find that anybody steals this idea, creates a story, plagiarizes this story or if I find anything similar to my own idea...you will be flagged/reported and I mean it. Sorry I sound harsh but this means a lot to me...So here it is:
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“The best way to destroy an enemy, is to make him a friend”
Abraham Lincoln
T H E ~ T R I A L S
Preface: An introductory announcement
My name is Chris. Christian Valentine– that is to be precise. I am 16 years old. There is an enemy. It’s called the Perpetual Sect. That basically means that they are immortal. But we do not know what type of immortal. You see, there’s wizards, witches, fairies...vampires; all those legendary tales. And they want the entire population to be immortal. We are in danger. That is why, every few years, a bunch of ordinary teenagers who put their names in (ages ranging from 15 to 18) are chosen to participate in The Trials. The Trials is a competitive course which lasts for two years. After the trials, you’ll get a result which will determine your ranks in the military troops. If you’re a complete failure...well...there’ll be a punishment. Banishment. To the perilous lands of the Perpets; (Our short nickname for the Perpetual Sect) from where you’ll never be heard of again. You see, there’s a price every citizen must pay, and if you show military- soldier potential but fail to obtain it, you face severe consequences. Life isn’t easy around here. Believe me, it isn’t. ’ Especially being among those sixteen year olds who have a chance to be chosen for The Trials...
My name is Chris. Christian Valentine– that is to be precise. I am 16 years old. There is an enemy. It’s called the Perpetual Sect. That basically means that they are immortal. But we do not know what type of immortal. You see, there’s wizards, witches, fairies...vampires; all those legendary tales. And they want the entire population to be immortal. We are in danger. That is why, every few years, a bunch of ordinary teenagers who put their names in (ages ranging from 15 to 18) are chosen to participate in The Trials. The Trials is a competitive course which lasts for two years. After the trials, you’ll get a result which will determine your ranks in the military troops. If you’re a complete failure...well...there’ll be a punishment. Banishment. To the perilous lands of the Perpets; (Our short nickname for the Perpetual Sect) from where you’ll never be heard of again. You see, there’s a price every citizen must pay, and if you show military- soldier potential but fail to obtain it, you face severe consequences. Life isn’t easy around here. Believe me, it isn’t. ’ Especially being among those sixteen year olds who have a chance to be chosen for The Trials...
DEATH, to the dead for evermore
A King, a God, the last, the best of friends -
Whene'er this mortal journey ends
Death, like a host, comes smiling to the door;
Smiling, he greets us, on that tranquil shore
Where neither piping bird nor peeping dawn
Disturbs the eternal sleep,
But in the stillness far withdrawn
Our dreamless rest for evermore we keep.
For as from open windows forth we peep
upon the night-time star beset
and with dews for ever wet;
so from this garish life the spirit peers;
and lo! As a sleeping city death outspread,
Where breathe the sleepers evenly; and lo!
After the loud wars, triumphs, trumpets, tears
and clamour of man's passion, Death appears,
and we must rise and go.
Soon are eyes tired with sunshine; soon the ears
Weary of utterance, seeing all is said;
Soon, racked by hopes and fears,
The all-pondering, all-contriving head,
Weary with all things, wearies of the years;
And our sad spirits turn toward the dead;
And the tired child, the body, longs for bed.
Written By Robert Louis Stevenson
C h a p t e r 1;;(view spoiler)
Christian woke up due to the irritating buzz of his ancient alarm clock. Well, that’s it! Today’s the big day! The day when the participants for The Trials are chosen. He gets up slowly and sits on the edge of the bed, his head buried in his arms.
“Chris! Wake up!” Yelled Rose, his older sister. She could be quite a pain at times. Especially in the morning, when she would practically drag you out of bed.
Chris sighed. “Coming. Give me a few minutes,” He shouted back, getting out of bed, running a hand through his hair. He walked towards his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of dark jeans and a navy blue button up t shirt. Pulling the shirt over his head, he noticed a police car outside. Why the hell would there be a policeman in his house at....He looked over to his alarm clock, seven in the morning?
He raced downstairs and saw his living room door shut. He heard the muffled conversation between his mother and a policeman. Since the whole conversation was inaudible, he decided to give up and dragged himself over to the kitchen.
Chris slid onto the kitchen chair, looking around for any edible food. Cereal, Toast...He just wasn’t fond of the typical English breakfast.
“Need any help?” Rose asked, entering the room, wearing her bright red Man United shirt she wore literally every day.
Chris hastily shook his head. Last time she said that and he accepted, she burnt half his breakfast. He went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk and a chocolate cookie from the cupboard. He munched the biscuit for a while, then gulped down the milk in one go.
“You look better than usual,” She said, commenting on the way he dressed today. It wasn’t a lie. Chris had hazel hair with a pair of azure-blue eyes. He usually wore work out combats with a simple top since, nowadays, he was more focused on The Trials. Wanting to train at every possible moment he had. He didn’t look that bad. After all, no-one really pays attention to what you look like nowadays...They care about your wealth. Your status. That is a contributing factor to the list of the pros in being accepted into The Trials. He and his family are poor. And as poor as a citizen among our community could get.
“I’ve got to go.” He said, running out of the room, only in the excuse to get away from her. Usually, she’d lecture him continuously about nutritious breakfast and all that rubbish. He’d rather kill himself than to stand another lecture.
As he was slipping on his converses, his mother came out of the room, smiling at him.
“Christian, this is Officer Peeta,” She said, pointing to the policeman.
“Nice to meet you,” He mumbled in reply, shaking his hand.
Peeta raised his eyebrows. “You must be Christian Valentine, correct?” He asked, smiling at Christian.
Chris nodded and then turned to his mother, sighing. “Mum, I have to go to the Assembly Hall. All the people who entered for The Trials need to be there early at eight o clock.” He told her, grabbing a packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the table.
“I’ll be there at eleven,” His mum called as he left the house. He glanced back to see Rose scowling. “Bye, Rose,” He murmured, turning back to leave the house, to his nearest bus stop.
The bus approached a few minutes later, skidding to a halt in front of him. He stood in the bus, holding onto the nearest bar. The bus then stopped at his best friend’s stop. Chris saw Jordan Steele, who stepped onto the bus, grinning at Chris.
“Hey dude! Long time, no see!” He said, punching his arm in a friendly gesture.
Chris smiled. “Sorry. I was grounded you see...” He said, trying to explain to him why he wasn’t allowed out of the house for a month.
Jordan nodded. “Again? What for?” He asked, tripping over as the bus set off abruptly.
Chris rolled his eyes. “The usual. I had a fight with Rose...” He said, really wishing he wouldn’t ask what the fight was about.
Jordan sighed and then sat down in one of the priority seats. “I guess those things happen when you have other siblings,”
Jordan didn’t have any brothers or sisters. So he would be alone at home. No one to talk to, no one to share a joke with...No one at all. Except from his parents who were glued to the TV, either watching Britain’s got talent or Eastenders.
Chris remained silent for majority of the journey, looking out of the window at all the people going shopping, to the hospital. Just carrying on with their normal lives. To them, The Trials wasn’t really anything. To them, there wasn’t an enemy scheming to kill us. To them, the Perpetual sect didn’t even exist at all.
“I do miss school.” He said with a sigh, looking over at Jordan.
He left school last year, after finishing eleventh grade. It was quite strange for his parents since in this town, leaving school at sixteen without going to college or university, was considered bad. Little did they know that The Trials was behind all this?
He had practised and practised with no sleep at all, for The Trials. His mother even brought a set of weight lifts, punching bags and a treadmill which he mainly used to train. This meant everything to him. Ever since he was young, he had always yearned to feel what it was like to be out on the battle field at war with a common enemy. He was born for The Trials. How could he not get a place among the military troops?
“I’m guessing you put your name in for The Trials,” Chris said to Jordan, looking at him.
Jordan shrugged. “Yeah. I and Felicity put our names in together.”
Chris turned around to stare at him. “Felicity? The Princess?” He asked, shocked.
Chris’s other best friend, Felicity Vargas was the daughter of the King and Queen. Of course, she wasn’t the tiara, ball gown type of princess. She was more of a rebel. Always wanting more of the outdoors, camping in forests and rolling in mud. That’s what I liked about her so much; she wasn’t like those princesses from the other Kingdoms. She was more free to move around and be more like herself.
Jordan coughed. “Um. Yeah, our friend? Anyway, we’re supposed to meet her there and so she made me swear that we wouldn’t go in until we see her. After all, she is a princess, so I found it almost obligatory to obey her ‘command’”
Chris grinned. “Yeah. That sounds a lot like the Felicity I know,” He said, chuckling to himself.
The bus stopped abruptly as Chris and Jordan both stepped off, onto the rocky pavement. The Assembly hall was a huge structure which seemed an imitation of Ancient Greek buildings. The pillars stood crookedly on the entrance of the building as the once, white and pure building, but now gray and dilapidated, towered over us, looking superior amongst the line of simple residential houses surrounding it.
He sighed then turned to face Jordan. “Well? Where is Felicity?” He asked, slightly irritated due to his keen excitement to go inside and explore the depths of the mysterious church like building.
Jordan then suddenly pointed towards the steps which led up to the gates and there sat Felicity, reading one of her signature classic novels. He approached her as Chris, was trailing behind him, and trying not to look like a minion of Jordan’s. To be honest, Jordan had quite a famous reputation around town.
Felicity got up and started walking towards us. “Hey Christian!” She exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. Chris blushed, and then wrapped his arm around her. He eyed Jordan, cautiously. He was too busy staring at someone else. He pulled back to see Jordan glaring at him.
“Dude, give it a rest,” He said, shoving him playfully aside, before entering the Assembly Hall.
The interior was richly decorated with a purple carpet draped over the polished wooden floor. The windows gleamed surprisingly as on the outside, they were covered with filth and grime. The radiant sun rays beamed through the windows, filling the room with warm, welcoming light. Chris looked around for any room to sit down. Before he knew it a young man, who looked like he was in his twenties, approached him, grinning to himself. His bronze hair gleamed in the sun, and came to a stop right in front of Felicity, Chris and Jordan.
“Welcome, young fellows. My name is Damon Gilbert. I am the Head Instructor for The Trials. If you have entered, please follow me. Any questions would be answered inside the small room I am leading you all to.” He said warmly, beaming at us.
They followed Damon into a room at the back of the hall, where about fifty other children were, chatting or just keeping to themselves. Damon coughed, which caused the whole room to drop to a silence which felt awfully awkward.
“Here we stand. Fifty five competitors; each wanting to be chosen for The Trials. Only twenty of you will make it through to the competition which leaves thirty five here, disappointed. Now, let me be very clear, once you’re in, there’s no turning back. So I hope all of you have already said your goodbyes to your family and close friends,” Chris exchanged a shocked glance with Jordan who seemed terrified of Damon.
“What?” Chris blurted out loud.
Damon glared at him, his stony grey eyes filled with animosity. “What is your name, young boy?” He demanded.
Chris hesitated for a moment. “Christian Valentine,” He muttered, staring back into his eyes with pride. He was always the one to rebel and to fight back, shamelessly.
“Well, Mr Valentine, remember to keep your fat mouth shut. Training to be part of the Militia needs a fair amount of manners as well as dedication. If I find you to be answering back, shouting, or anything which reflects a bad attitude, you may as well say goodbye to the competition as well as your families.” He said, turning back to the audience, who were now staring at Chris as if he was crazy.
“I will now give you time to chat and relax here and in a few hours, the names will be called out for those people who are chosen for in The Trials.” He barked before slamming the door shut behind him.
For a moment, the whole room froze, before erupting into loud voices and laughter.
“Aren’t you excited?” Felicity said, smiling at both of us.
Chris smiled slightly, looking around the room for familiar faces. Instead, he found unwelcoming faces, glaring at him. What had he ever done to them? He eyed a boy near him who growled as their eyes met. Chris turned to face Felicity. “Totally,” He said, looking away from the boy.
Jordan, on the other hand, looked as if he was about to throw up. “Man, are you alright?” Chris asked him.
Jordan nodded hastily before dashing out of the room, into the toilet. Chris sighed and looked at Felicity. “Are you?” He asked, wondering why she wanted to enter the army. She was the princess after all. Maybe they wouldn’t choose her.
Felicity smiled. “I’m just a bit nervous,” She said. “I mean, if we get chosen, we’d have to leave everyone, everything behind...I don’t think I’m ready to let go...”
Christian woke up due to the irritating buzz of his ancient alarm clock. Well, that’s it! Today’s the big day! The day when the participants for The Trials are chosen. He gets up slowly and sits on the edge of the bed, his head buried in his arms.
“Chris! Wake up!” Yelled Rose, his older sister. She could be quite a pain at times. Especially in the morning, when she would practically drag you out of bed.
Chris sighed. “Coming. Give me a few minutes,” He shouted back, getting out of bed, running a hand through his hair. He walked towards his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of dark jeans and a navy blue button up t shirt. Pulling the shirt over his head, he noticed a police car outside. Why the hell would there be a policeman in his house at....He looked over to his alarm clock, seven in the morning?
He raced downstairs and saw his living room door shut. He heard the muffled conversation between his mother and a policeman. Since the whole conversation was inaudible, he decided to give up and dragged himself over to the kitchen.
Chris slid onto the kitchen chair, looking around for any edible food. Cereal, Toast...He just wasn’t fond of the typical English breakfast.
“Need any help?” Rose asked, entering the room, wearing her bright red Man United shirt she wore literally every day.
Chris hastily shook his head. Last time she said that and he accepted, she burnt half his breakfast. He went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk and a chocolate cookie from the cupboard. He munched the biscuit for a while, then gulped down the milk in one go.
“You look better than usual,” She said, commenting on the way he dressed today. It wasn’t a lie. Chris had hazel hair with a pair of azure-blue eyes. He usually wore work out combats with a simple top since, nowadays, he was more focused on The Trials. Wanting to train at every possible moment he had. He didn’t look that bad. After all, no-one really pays attention to what you look like nowadays...They care about your wealth. Your status. That is a contributing factor to the list of the pros in being accepted into The Trials. He and his family are poor. And as poor as a citizen among our community could get.
“I’ve got to go.” He said, running out of the room, only in the excuse to get away from her. Usually, she’d lecture him continuously about nutritious breakfast and all that rubbish. He’d rather kill himself than to stand another lecture.
As he was slipping on his converses, his mother came out of the room, smiling at him.
“Christian, this is Officer Peeta,” She said, pointing to the policeman.
“Nice to meet you,” He mumbled in reply, shaking his hand.
Peeta raised his eyebrows. “You must be Christian Valentine, correct?” He asked, smiling at Christian.
Chris nodded and then turned to his mother, sighing. “Mum, I have to go to the Assembly Hall. All the people who entered for The Trials need to be there early at eight o clock.” He told her, grabbing a packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the table.
“I’ll be there at eleven,” His mum called as he left the house. He glanced back to see Rose scowling. “Bye, Rose,” He murmured, turning back to leave the house, to his nearest bus stop.
The bus approached a few minutes later, skidding to a halt in front of him. He stood in the bus, holding onto the nearest bar. The bus then stopped at his best friend’s stop. Chris saw Jordan Steele, who stepped onto the bus, grinning at Chris.
“Hey dude! Long time, no see!” He said, punching his arm in a friendly gesture.
Chris smiled. “Sorry. I was grounded you see...” He said, trying to explain to him why he wasn’t allowed out of the house for a month.
Jordan nodded. “Again? What for?” He asked, tripping over as the bus set off abruptly.
Chris rolled his eyes. “The usual. I had a fight with Rose...” He said, really wishing he wouldn’t ask what the fight was about.
Jordan sighed and then sat down in one of the priority seats. “I guess those things happen when you have other siblings,”
Jordan didn’t have any brothers or sisters. So he would be alone at home. No one to talk to, no one to share a joke with...No one at all. Except from his parents who were glued to the TV, either watching Britain’s got talent or Eastenders.
Chris remained silent for majority of the journey, looking out of the window at all the people going shopping, to the hospital. Just carrying on with their normal lives. To them, The Trials wasn’t really anything. To them, there wasn’t an enemy scheming to kill us. To them, the Perpetual sect didn’t even exist at all.
“I do miss school.” He said with a sigh, looking over at Jordan.
He left school last year, after finishing eleventh grade. It was quite strange for his parents since in this town, leaving school at sixteen without going to college or university, was considered bad. Little did they know that The Trials was behind all this?
He had practised and practised with no sleep at all, for The Trials. His mother even brought a set of weight lifts, punching bags and a treadmill which he mainly used to train. This meant everything to him. Ever since he was young, he had always yearned to feel what it was like to be out on the battle field at war with a common enemy. He was born for The Trials. How could he not get a place among the military troops?
“I’m guessing you put your name in for The Trials,” Chris said to Jordan, looking at him.
Jordan shrugged. “Yeah. I and Felicity put our names in together.”
Chris turned around to stare at him. “Felicity? The Princess?” He asked, shocked.
Chris’s other best friend, Felicity Vargas was the daughter of the King and Queen. Of course, she wasn’t the tiara, ball gown type of princess. She was more of a rebel. Always wanting more of the outdoors, camping in forests and rolling in mud. That’s what I liked about her so much; she wasn’t like those princesses from the other Kingdoms. She was more free to move around and be more like herself.
Jordan coughed. “Um. Yeah, our friend? Anyway, we’re supposed to meet her there and so she made me swear that we wouldn’t go in until we see her. After all, she is a princess, so I found it almost obligatory to obey her ‘command’”
Chris grinned. “Yeah. That sounds a lot like the Felicity I know,” He said, chuckling to himself.
The bus stopped abruptly as Chris and Jordan both stepped off, onto the rocky pavement. The Assembly hall was a huge structure which seemed an imitation of Ancient Greek buildings. The pillars stood crookedly on the entrance of the building as the once, white and pure building, but now gray and dilapidated, towered over us, looking superior amongst the line of simple residential houses surrounding it.
He sighed then turned to face Jordan. “Well? Where is Felicity?” He asked, slightly irritated due to his keen excitement to go inside and explore the depths of the mysterious church like building.
Jordan then suddenly pointed towards the steps which led up to the gates and there sat Felicity, reading one of her signature classic novels. He approached her as Chris, was trailing behind him, and trying not to look like a minion of Jordan’s. To be honest, Jordan had quite a famous reputation around town.
Felicity got up and started walking towards us. “Hey Christian!” She exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. Chris blushed, and then wrapped his arm around her. He eyed Jordan, cautiously. He was too busy staring at someone else. He pulled back to see Jordan glaring at him.
“Dude, give it a rest,” He said, shoving him playfully aside, before entering the Assembly Hall.
The interior was richly decorated with a purple carpet draped over the polished wooden floor. The windows gleamed surprisingly as on the outside, they were covered with filth and grime. The radiant sun rays beamed through the windows, filling the room with warm, welcoming light. Chris looked around for any room to sit down. Before he knew it a young man, who looked like he was in his twenties, approached him, grinning to himself. His bronze hair gleamed in the sun, and came to a stop right in front of Felicity, Chris and Jordan.
“Welcome, young fellows. My name is Damon Gilbert. I am the Head Instructor for The Trials. If you have entered, please follow me. Any questions would be answered inside the small room I am leading you all to.” He said warmly, beaming at us.
They followed Damon into a room at the back of the hall, where about fifty other children were, chatting or just keeping to themselves. Damon coughed, which caused the whole room to drop to a silence which felt awfully awkward.
“Here we stand. Fifty five competitors; each wanting to be chosen for The Trials. Only twenty of you will make it through to the competition which leaves thirty five here, disappointed. Now, let me be very clear, once you’re in, there’s no turning back. So I hope all of you have already said your goodbyes to your family and close friends,” Chris exchanged a shocked glance with Jordan who seemed terrified of Damon.
“What?” Chris blurted out loud.
Damon glared at him, his stony grey eyes filled with animosity. “What is your name, young boy?” He demanded.
Chris hesitated for a moment. “Christian Valentine,” He muttered, staring back into his eyes with pride. He was always the one to rebel and to fight back, shamelessly.
“Well, Mr Valentine, remember to keep your fat mouth shut. Training to be part of the Militia needs a fair amount of manners as well as dedication. If I find you to be answering back, shouting, or anything which reflects a bad attitude, you may as well say goodbye to the competition as well as your families.” He said, turning back to the audience, who were now staring at Chris as if he was crazy.
“I will now give you time to chat and relax here and in a few hours, the names will be called out for those people who are chosen for in The Trials.” He barked before slamming the door shut behind him.
For a moment, the whole room froze, before erupting into loud voices and laughter.
“Aren’t you excited?” Felicity said, smiling at both of us.
Chris smiled slightly, looking around the room for familiar faces. Instead, he found unwelcoming faces, glaring at him. What had he ever done to them? He eyed a boy near him who growled as their eyes met. Chris turned to face Felicity. “Totally,” He said, looking away from the boy.
Jordan, on the other hand, looked as if he was about to throw up. “Man, are you alright?” Chris asked him.
Jordan nodded hastily before dashing out of the room, into the toilet. Chris sighed and looked at Felicity. “Are you?” He asked, wondering why she wanted to enter the army. She was the princess after all. Maybe they wouldn’t choose her.
Felicity smiled. “I’m just a bit nervous,” She said. “I mean, if we get chosen, we’d have to leave everyone, everything behind...I don’t think I’m ready to let go...”
*
