Apple: Book 1 Chapter 2Tons of thoughts run through my head at once. Who is this old man? Where did he come from? Why did he save me? Is he on my side? Can he tell me why I was captured? And why didn't he run for the hills when all of these questions came out as one almost incoherent word? I know the answers to none of these questions.He hands me a map, says "You must find the Elemental Gauntlet--" But that's all he has time to say. Because then, several wolves attack him. I pull him away, and we run.But Ishimaru, being an old man, can't run for very long. And, as if it wasn't bad enough, he sprained his ankle. He fell, and no matter how many times I tried to get him up, he couldn't. The wolves came for him, and I withdrew my sword. I slashed one across the stomach, postponing him, kicked the second into a tree, knocking him out, and the third actually bit me and threw me over. I try to reach up and escape the feeling of blood painting my shoulder red. I writhe up a tree until I stand at my full extent. I
Apple: Book 1 Chapter 1I stumble to the bedroom and collapse on the soft mattress. As I sink into the cool, spongey fluff, my eyes become heavier until they are just about as heavy as the packaging crates on Saturday afternoon's weekly food shipment.When I wake, my bed is hard and wintery. I push myself up and feel excruciating pain. They have been tightly shackled by electronic shackles that are movement-based, and they clench agonizingly. I roll on my leaf-based shirt armor, and note my belt lays on the ground. But when I reach for it, I realize why it's off. There are several belt whip marks on my arm, reddening my fur.I fell on to the ground and slowly pull the belt on. I make sure my ripped baggy shorts are on tight enough, and roll back, trying not to move my hand. Once I get up, I note I'm in an empty room that is entirely metal except for a door that needs an access code. I move to the door and try to press down the correct code, starting with 111. But when that's wrong, a laser shoots a
The Sorcererhe dreamt alivemy musical thoughts,though none would blanchthe role of fate.