U-um... Hello. My name is Jake, and... I wrote a story for somebody in the Random Chat.
I posted it in there... And they said that it was really good, and that I should make my own board.... S-so...
I'll just post it on here...
D-don't hate it too much...
Okay... Here I go!
A starless sky hung over the crowded city, its streets were filled with civilians, walking briskly to their own destinations and goals in this eventless night with an almost mechanic air around them. Their steps and expressions were not as different as the persons walking beside them, as they tapped their feet against the cold pavement. Advertisements of every kind lined the building walls, telling their false truths of their products through flashy lights and neon wire.
Upon the ledge of one of these buildings sat a figure, legs dangling precariously over the city streets. This person to the unknowing eye would look nothing more than a high school student who has came out for a breath of the smoggy air that hung over the night. He wore a simple tee shirt and baggy jeans with a pair of tennis shoes loosely tied at his feet. His chestnut brown hair glazed over his head in a graceful, yet somewhat unkempt fashion. At the end of his nose laid a pair of thin wired glasses, and behind those glasses was a face no more than seventeen years old. His eyes were also a deep brown color, lazily scanning the activity below him. But there was something in his eyes that would not and, most would believe should not, be there for a boy of his age.
They were worn. Tired and weary of a duty that still held him at the mercy of the people that were now walking below him. He was not like the other teenagers that could be seen walking down the street, with their simple ideas and their feelings of invincibility that ran through their veins with the coming of being an adult. He wished that he could be that ignorant, oblivious to the feelings of mortality that came with his life and with the lives of others.
But alas, he was different. He was not like the people marching below him. As this thought came through his head he carelessly swung his leg into the side of the concrete ledge, sending pain shooting up it. He inhaled sharply and grimaced at the site of peeled skin from his ankle and with a sigh of frustration he scooted off the ledge toward the streets below, but fell no more than a few feet before he caught himself in the air.
However, he didn’t catch himself by grabbing at the ledge again but through the invisible force that was now holding him up above the pavement. He idly hovered back up over the ledge, crossing his arms and legs as he leaned back into a comfortable position and looking up at the starless sky. This was how he was different. This is the reason that he will never find out how it feels to be the normal teenager in this society today.
He was a superhero.
He laughed to himself grimly at that idea. No, he himself wasn’t super in any way. He was just as vulnerable as anybody else. He brought his hand up in front of his face and quickly clenched it into a fist, sending it ablaze in fire. He has long gotten over the usual instinct that fire is suppose to burn one who it is set upon and now watched as the flames danced over his fingers and casted deep shadows onto the walls and floor of the building he was floating over.
He wasn’t a superhero. He preferred the term “Sorcerer”. He would rather that he wasn’t compared to the ideas found in comic books and cartoons. He didn’t have super strength or super speed and he wouldn’t be able to take a bullet to the chest and it not kill him. He couldn’t lift a thousand pounds over his head or punch through walls.
No, the only reason that he can do what he can do is through the spells that he has memorized and practiced through years of concentration and error. Without his magic, he was as easy to kill as anybody else.
He put out the flames in his palm and scratched at the side of his head, accidentally pushing his glasses off of his nose and sending it falling down to the street. With an almost trained reflex, he stretched his hand out and concentrated on the falling spectacles. Almost immediately the glasses stopped in mid air, and shot straight back up into his hand. He then threw the glasses up into the air, and leaned his head toward them as they slipped back onto his face. There really wasn’t any need for him to do that, but he felt like trying it out anyway.
He then thought back to how he got these powers in the first place. He couldn’t remember anything happening to him that could have given him this ability. Then again, he never really cared. For as long as he could remember, he has had this ability all of his life and had kept it in secret from the public and private eyes of the world. He thought back to his days in the orphanage where he grew up. He would never leave his room nor let anybody into it, and would instead spend his days scouring over the pages of his spellbook that only he could summon to his hands.
He held a hand to the space before him and, as if it was woven from the light off of the city itself, a thick leather book formed into his hands. He leaned up from lying down in the air to a sitting position, and started flipping through the pages. He had all sorts of spells: Light magic, with its holy spells of healing and protecting, dark magic, with spells of terrible destruction and curses, and spells of all of the basic elements of the natural earth.
He clenched his fist again and watched as the skin on his hand turn to ice, sending a cloud of fog to the air around his dead looking knuckles. With another wave of the hand, clumps of dirt on the rooftop floor flew from the ground into his palm, forming together into a round marble of earth. He dropped the ball of dirt back onto the building, and sighed as it shattered into dust upon the impact. He then brought both of his hands together and with a little strain he pulled them apart showing a crackling line of electricity shooting from one hand to the other. He often did this when alone, experimenting with his magics and even coming up with new spells through this practice.
His self display of his power must have been quite the sight, for when he cut the spell off he could hear astonished gasps and cheers from the street. He shut his book and tossed it back into the air where it disappeared in a small flash of light and then looked back down toward the street to find a small crowd of people gathering at the base of the building where he was currently hovering over, gazing at his figure and calling out to him for more.
He didn’t feel like flying down to the street to give these people a show but he also didn’t want to leave them with a feeling like he didn’t care about them at all. So he held his hand out, palm facing towards the sky, and summoned a small ball of light in his hand. He then brought the small fairy up to his face and said, “Keep them busy for a little while, okay?”
He then let the fairy fly out of his hand toward the ground and couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of how easily amused of this little act they were. He slightly smiled as he heard giggles and squeals coming from the crowd, watching the light weave over and past their heads, acrobatically flying just out of their reach.
But he turned back over at the thought of his attempt of a normal life. Yes, he did go to school as well as going to other services like stores and restaurants, although he doesn’t know why he bothers bringing money anymore since he almost always gets his meals for free. He gritted his teeth at the thought of going to school tomorrow and thought of how the day was going to play out for him… Not that it was going to be any different then all of the other days.
He would fly to the entrance and always found himself being crowded by the other students who were eager to hang out with the “Superhero”. The girls would swoon over him, eager to be his girlfriend or to be noticed by the most popular kid in school. The guys would constantly ask him to hang out with them or to give them rides to where ever they felt like being flown to at the moment. As much as he would like to be left alone, he would always be found as nothing more than a toy soldier whose key and spring were rusted from overuse although it usually takes them only a few flashy spells and hovering to satisfy their eyes and to have them kept at bay.
That was another thing that still pained him. He realized a long time ago that he would probably never find somebody who would think of him the same way, with or without his gift. He wouldn’t be able to find love as well. He was doomed to never be able to find a companion or a partner in his life but it was for the best. If anybody fell for him, she would be wracked with worry and distraught from his dangerous life and he would never be able to find time for her from his duty to protect the people of this city.
But still, he would never know what it’s like to find that special someone or the feeling of having a child of your own to care for and watch grow. He would never be able to have a family of his own. He will never have somebody to feel comfort from or to hear say that they love him.
His vision blurred at that last thought and he brought a hand up to his eyes to find them wet. When was the last time he actually had somebody say that they loved him and actually mean it? In fact, when was the last time he said that he loved someone? He’s had no family, he never even knew his mother or his father, and nobody took care of him when he was young.
He couldn’t help but let the tears fall from his eyes as the reality hit him again. He will never be loved. People like him now, but that’s only as long as he’s able to protect the people that he has brought on himself to protect. What would happen if he messes up? What if he can’t help somebody? They would leave him. They would look at him with hatred at the fact that the “Superhero” couldn’t save that one life. He carries the weight of the entire city on his shoulders, the lives of the millions of men, women, and children that look to him for help.
He looked down at the crowd below, who was still trying to catch his little creation as it continued to flutter over their heads and nuzzle against their cheeks and felt that it was time for one last stunt. He reached his arm over the crowd and began moving his fingers, controlling the little fairy like a puppet. In an instant the fairy began flying in tight circles over their heads, slowly gaining speed as it rose higher into the air until it was a blur of white light.
Then, with one last click of his fingers the ball of light exploded into a glorious strobe, sending everybody to stare in awe. Almost immediately the crowd began cheering at the sight, waving their appreciation at him as he quickly wiped his eyes dry. He knew that he would never be able to have a family of his own but he was okay with that as long as he can protect the people in this city. It didn’t matter that he was a “Superhero” or not, he was willing to take on the responsibility of one if it were to mean the safety of what he couldn’t have. In a way he couldn’t help but think of citizens as his child and like a child they require the care and attention that all fathers give to them. To him the city was his children, and just like his children he would do anything to protect them no matter the costs.
The sound of sirens sent him out of his thoughts. He quickly dropped back onto the ledge as his eyes trained onto the street to find the source of the noise. No sooner then he began searching, he was exposed to the sight of a car chase barreling through the street. The driver was obviously not caring about who he could easily kill with his reckless, daredevil actions.
He sighed as he stood up onto the ledge. Turning away from the scene below him, he held his hands out and slowly began leaning back into a freefall. He left the ledge, the wind tearing through his hair and sending his clothes flapping against the sorcerer. His eyes were closed as he chanted another spell, almost not caring at the impending doom that awaited him from the pavement below. He could hear the gasps and cries coming from the people below as he plummeted toward the ground. But at the last moment his eyes shot open and he sent himself flying at a sharp angle away from the ground, gliding just inches above the road as his magics carried him on the wind.
He ignored the cheers of the people on the sidewalks. As he soared after the chase, eyebrows furrowed in a cold concentration, he silently thought to himself, “Yes, the city is my children. But just like children they need to be punished when they misbehave…”
This post has been edited by Jake: 30 March 2011 - 03:33 AM
