Connor Night is a fourteen year old boy, who on his fifteenth birthday is given a book entitled: The Castle in the Sky. Within reading the first pages of the book Connor is transported to the mystical, magical, and tragic world of Soarona. In order to return home, Connor must travel to the Greyden Desert in order to find magical lake called the Pool of Wishes. The only thing stopping him are deformed, blood thirty, Raiders. Who will, it seems, do anything to stop Connor from reaching it and gett
The ground was wet. He could hear the leaves crunching under his boots as he ran. Mud splattered onto his white tunic and panting face. They were advancing him. Their shouts chased him as he dashed through trees and bushes trying to accomplish what his mother had said,“Run!” she had demanded. “Run so they will never find you!”
He darted right, ducking under a branch and jumping over a log. Holding onto the hilt of his silver sword. Hoping he wouldn’t lose it.
They’re advancing. I can feel it.
“I see him!” a voice yelled; pieces of armor clanked in the distance.
He swooped left and headed for a mossy hill. Planting his boots into the ground. His breath shortening. He couldn’t go much longer.
“In the name of Lord Tobias, I command you to stop!” someone yelled at him fiercely. He continued running.
The top of the hill wasn’t far from the bottom, but when he reached it he needed a moment to recoup. He stood briefly with his head between his knees, panting. A clanking noise was approaching, the sound of men with weapons in hand growing nearer. He needed to move.
“What are you doing?” a voice beside him said. “Let’s move! They’re advancing!”
He looked to see the familiar face of Broc, he smiled greatly. “I forgot you were with me!” he exhaled.
“Of course I am. I wouldn’t let my longest friend be exiled without a fight!” he smiled, panting all the same. “Now let’s move!”
With Broc at his side, his hand on the hilt of his sword, he gathered speed. The noises had stopped. The sounds of men chasing them ceased and the clanking of armor died out.
After out running the soldiers they continued a few yards, until Broc leaned into a tree panting vigorously.
“You’d think we would be in top shape, with what we do in all,” Broc smirked lightly. His friend didn’t reply. “Hawk, what is wrong?”
Hawk, the young man’s name, spoke slow, “The kingdom will fall without him.... How can we just run? How can I allow Tobias this victory? Listen,” he said, wondering aimlessly in a circle; his breath short, “we will hide and we will train, and when the time is right we will overthrow him!”
Hawk glanced to his friend in just enough time to see the arrow pierce his chest.
“No!” he yelled, rushing toward Broc’s loosening body. Tears flooded out of Hawk’s eyes. “No–” he moaned again. He stood violently and unsheathed his silver blade. “Come on then!” he screamed. “Where are you!”
The figures crept out of the shadows of the forest. Sinister smiles spread on their black lips. This were not normal men, these were creatures, dark creatures that Hawk had never seen before. Then a man, a human, step through the wall of creatures. He wore a purple cloak and hood. Hawk could see a purple scar across the left side of the man’s chin.
Fear crept into Hawk’s throat. What kind of evil is this?
“Who–what are you?” His sword bounced in his hand.
“The running has ended,” the cloaked man said.
“I will never leave Glagaria to wickedness like Tobias, or to obscenities like you!”
The man laughed widely, his head reaching for the sky. When it came back down his hood was left behind revealing a scar in the shape of an S that ran from the edge of his chin all the way to the back of his bald head. The smile faded into a cold stare. The cloaked man closed his eyes, and mumbled some words, in a language Hawk did not understand, nor never heard.
Magic! He thought.
A fire burst through him. Within a blink he roared and ran, sword swinging. Before he could lay one blow into the man’s skull everything went black....