L
LuxGlyph
Guest
Original poster
There was something unbelievably, horribly out of sorts and Harrison was at a lost to what to do about it.
He wasn't in the right place, he was sure of it. He'd never hallucinated before. He'd always been in his right mind, surely, and nothing made up, by mind nor magic, could ever paint such a vivid picture as what he was seeing now.
It was... a city? At the very least it was a place made by intelligent design. Great structures rose up, fighting the skyline of deep and horribly hued blues for as far as his eyes could see. The ground was paved with coarse stone and.. and there were doors and windows and things that must make this place a city, and yet...
And yet it was nothing like Harrison had ever laid eyes on before. This was not his home, nor his land, nor his.. his world. Even the sun and skies overhead were not the same. That ugly orange giant hung there, taunting him, mocking him from so far away. But it, by far, was not the worst of what Harrison had encountered when he came awake in this strange place. It wasn't the hard ground or strange buildings or dead, thorny courtyards and faceless statues. What was truly horrible about this place was the complete and absolute absence of life. The buildings laid still, the streets empty, light posts were off, and everything was so completely silent and still. Harrison had strained his ears, but he couldn't hear except his own, shallow gulps of air. Nothing. Not the distant sound of voices, the rustle of paper, the flap of wings, the soft hum of magic spells. Nothing. It made him want to scream his lungs out for some sort of answer.
What could have cause this?
-
Harrison had lead a fairly normal life up until a few... what? Minutes? Hours? Days? He couldn't quite tell at the moment, but the point of it was that he was meant to be average, just another face in the crowd. In fact, he had tried all his life to be that nameless face in the crowd, because.. well.. he really wasn't all that normal, comparatively.
He was the second child and first son to Henry and Aviana Locke, a name earned for the generation of lock spell makers Henry was born from, and what Harrison had been expected to continue, until he was tested.
No magic potential. That was the final reading when he had been examined at two. It read the same at five, eight, thirteen and at last at eighteen, but by then he was already quite certain of the fact and it really didn't bother him any longer. Oh, it had broken his parents hearts at first. After all, less than two percent of the world's population were like Harrison and it made things quite difficult. Everything was built so completely on top of the magic elements that nothing was left without. Lights, doors, clocks, trains, sky ships, newspapers, books, paintings, roads, even the precious locks his father took such pride in creating. Nothing was made without magic, so what might Harrison do instead, when he couldn't even switch on a light properly?
But then Harrison's little brother was born and his parents breathed a collective sigh of relief. His father often joked that Davey got all the magic potential that skipped over Harrison, and that was fine. It made his parents happy, gave his father someone to train up and take his place in his prestigious line of locksmiths. Better yet, it took the attention off Harrison, and he.. well.. he got by just fine.
At eighteen, his classmates were dividing off into trade schools. Off to learn the finer details of their chosen fields of study, while Harrison.. didn't. It wasn't for lack of trying, he wanted to learn, at least in theory, the laws and orders behind the strange force that was 'magic', but no trade school would accept him, and most ignored the letters he sent to them. It was disappointing, to say the least, but his brother was growing older, his elder sister already educated and living her own life, so he couldn't let himself sit and stagnate. He left his family, his familiar town, and moved to Lainiar, a grand and wonderful city filled with people who had absolutely no idea who he was or what his potential might be. He got by, working for the central library and earning enough for a small apartment in the library's upper floors. He made friends, survived the day to day, even took lovers. He kept house plants, and when he had the time he read the books about magic theory that he had been denied from the trade schools.
He was average. He was happy. It went on for years!
So what changed? How did he end up in this waking nightmare? The last proper chain of events he could recall began when he had to stay late organizing some of the books at the library. It began storm outside, the clouds rolling around and rumbling with pent up magic. Storms like that happened, on occasion, in areas with a large concentration of magic. He remembered being mildly miffed, because the weekly reports hadn't mentioned the storm and he had to go up to his loft to close the windows before the rain dropped.
He hadn't been all that concerned, despite the predictions being off. The suppression spells never allowed the storms to get too out of control. Scary thunder, and some rain, thats usually all that happened when these storms rolled through. They had to go out to sea before the suppression spells ended and the nasty clouds could be as violent as they wanted. But.. that night something had happened. Maybe the suppressors broke, or were never activated in the first place, but this storm... it was a monster. The air buzzed with the chaotic magic stirred up by the lightning. It played chaos with the city spells. Harrison watched from his loft as the city's grid went offline, a great big dark blob flashed into life by the very lightning that had turned it dark. It rained torrents, filling the streets and turning them into little rivers. The wind rattled his windows and made the library creek and it only got worse and worse as the night wore on.
But that was when things got a little fuzzy. Harrison remembered the sound of thunder growing louder, closer, and more constant. He remembered debris flying through the air, and distant, warbling alarms of warning. He remembered seeing fires lighting the dark city, and then lighting had struck the library. Entire sections of books were wiped clean in an instant, the magic drained, or filled to bursting until flames licked the papers and spread, dangerous and deadly. Harrison.. he thought perhaps he had tried to put out the fires. He must have tried, but everything felt so disconnected by then. He remembered flashes of confusion, of bright lights and.. and pain? The memories wouldn't quite settle in his head and it was maddening Because the next thing he knew, he was waking up in this dead place. Here in this empty prison, where the doors and the windows were a bit too big, and the buildings were strange and cold and twisted, and it was just so... so quiet! He was starting to worry that he might not be.. well.. alive.
No, he better not start thinking about that. It made his heart rush and his lungs too tight. He was teetering in on shock enough as it was. His fingers and toes hadn't stop tingling ever since he woke up, he couldn't quite breath deep, and he kept feeling.. something.. deep down in his chest. He really didn't need to go into shock right now. He needed to... to think, he needed to find someone else, some food or water, or.. something. He'd been walking for... he wasn't sure how long. The sun didn't seem to move all that much, and it might have been an hour, maybe two, since he woke up - panic wasn't helping his sense of time. But he was most certainly lost - if he hadn't been already - and he hoped he would find something too. That screaming idea he had earlier was sounding better and better by the second.
"Hello?" He yelled out, instead, deciding it was better to be progressive with his yelling. His hand pass through his dark brown hair, ruffling it carelessly as he looked around, "HELLO?! Is anyone else out there?" He tried again. Christ, "I think I might be dead.." He was still in his night shirt and pajama bottoms, for gods sake. He smelled slightly of burnt toast. Maybe he died in a fire - no.. no.. stop thinking about it. He'll find someone soon...
He wasn't in the right place, he was sure of it. He'd never hallucinated before. He'd always been in his right mind, surely, and nothing made up, by mind nor magic, could ever paint such a vivid picture as what he was seeing now.
It was... a city? At the very least it was a place made by intelligent design. Great structures rose up, fighting the skyline of deep and horribly hued blues for as far as his eyes could see. The ground was paved with coarse stone and.. and there were doors and windows and things that must make this place a city, and yet...
And yet it was nothing like Harrison had ever laid eyes on before. This was not his home, nor his land, nor his.. his world. Even the sun and skies overhead were not the same. That ugly orange giant hung there, taunting him, mocking him from so far away. But it, by far, was not the worst of what Harrison had encountered when he came awake in this strange place. It wasn't the hard ground or strange buildings or dead, thorny courtyards and faceless statues. What was truly horrible about this place was the complete and absolute absence of life. The buildings laid still, the streets empty, light posts were off, and everything was so completely silent and still. Harrison had strained his ears, but he couldn't hear except his own, shallow gulps of air. Nothing. Not the distant sound of voices, the rustle of paper, the flap of wings, the soft hum of magic spells. Nothing. It made him want to scream his lungs out for some sort of answer.
What could have cause this?
-
Harrison had lead a fairly normal life up until a few... what? Minutes? Hours? Days? He couldn't quite tell at the moment, but the point of it was that he was meant to be average, just another face in the crowd. In fact, he had tried all his life to be that nameless face in the crowd, because.. well.. he really wasn't all that normal, comparatively.
He was the second child and first son to Henry and Aviana Locke, a name earned for the generation of lock spell makers Henry was born from, and what Harrison had been expected to continue, until he was tested.
No magic potential. That was the final reading when he had been examined at two. It read the same at five, eight, thirteen and at last at eighteen, but by then he was already quite certain of the fact and it really didn't bother him any longer. Oh, it had broken his parents hearts at first. After all, less than two percent of the world's population were like Harrison and it made things quite difficult. Everything was built so completely on top of the magic elements that nothing was left without. Lights, doors, clocks, trains, sky ships, newspapers, books, paintings, roads, even the precious locks his father took such pride in creating. Nothing was made without magic, so what might Harrison do instead, when he couldn't even switch on a light properly?
But then Harrison's little brother was born and his parents breathed a collective sigh of relief. His father often joked that Davey got all the magic potential that skipped over Harrison, and that was fine. It made his parents happy, gave his father someone to train up and take his place in his prestigious line of locksmiths. Better yet, it took the attention off Harrison, and he.. well.. he got by just fine.
At eighteen, his classmates were dividing off into trade schools. Off to learn the finer details of their chosen fields of study, while Harrison.. didn't. It wasn't for lack of trying, he wanted to learn, at least in theory, the laws and orders behind the strange force that was 'magic', but no trade school would accept him, and most ignored the letters he sent to them. It was disappointing, to say the least, but his brother was growing older, his elder sister already educated and living her own life, so he couldn't let himself sit and stagnate. He left his family, his familiar town, and moved to Lainiar, a grand and wonderful city filled with people who had absolutely no idea who he was or what his potential might be. He got by, working for the central library and earning enough for a small apartment in the library's upper floors. He made friends, survived the day to day, even took lovers. He kept house plants, and when he had the time he read the books about magic theory that he had been denied from the trade schools.
He was average. He was happy. It went on for years!
So what changed? How did he end up in this waking nightmare? The last proper chain of events he could recall began when he had to stay late organizing some of the books at the library. It began storm outside, the clouds rolling around and rumbling with pent up magic. Storms like that happened, on occasion, in areas with a large concentration of magic. He remembered being mildly miffed, because the weekly reports hadn't mentioned the storm and he had to go up to his loft to close the windows before the rain dropped.
He hadn't been all that concerned, despite the predictions being off. The suppression spells never allowed the storms to get too out of control. Scary thunder, and some rain, thats usually all that happened when these storms rolled through. They had to go out to sea before the suppression spells ended and the nasty clouds could be as violent as they wanted. But.. that night something had happened. Maybe the suppressors broke, or were never activated in the first place, but this storm... it was a monster. The air buzzed with the chaotic magic stirred up by the lightning. It played chaos with the city spells. Harrison watched from his loft as the city's grid went offline, a great big dark blob flashed into life by the very lightning that had turned it dark. It rained torrents, filling the streets and turning them into little rivers. The wind rattled his windows and made the library creek and it only got worse and worse as the night wore on.
But that was when things got a little fuzzy. Harrison remembered the sound of thunder growing louder, closer, and more constant. He remembered debris flying through the air, and distant, warbling alarms of warning. He remembered seeing fires lighting the dark city, and then lighting had struck the library. Entire sections of books were wiped clean in an instant, the magic drained, or filled to bursting until flames licked the papers and spread, dangerous and deadly. Harrison.. he thought perhaps he had tried to put out the fires. He must have tried, but everything felt so disconnected by then. He remembered flashes of confusion, of bright lights and.. and pain? The memories wouldn't quite settle in his head and it was maddening Because the next thing he knew, he was waking up in this dead place. Here in this empty prison, where the doors and the windows were a bit too big, and the buildings were strange and cold and twisted, and it was just so... so quiet! He was starting to worry that he might not be.. well.. alive.
No, he better not start thinking about that. It made his heart rush and his lungs too tight. He was teetering in on shock enough as it was. His fingers and toes hadn't stop tingling ever since he woke up, he couldn't quite breath deep, and he kept feeling.. something.. deep down in his chest. He really didn't need to go into shock right now. He needed to... to think, he needed to find someone else, some food or water, or.. something. He'd been walking for... he wasn't sure how long. The sun didn't seem to move all that much, and it might have been an hour, maybe two, since he woke up - panic wasn't helping his sense of time. But he was most certainly lost - if he hadn't been already - and he hoped he would find something too. That screaming idea he had earlier was sounding better and better by the second.
"Hello?" He yelled out, instead, deciding it was better to be progressive with his yelling. His hand pass through his dark brown hair, ruffling it carelessly as he looked around, "HELLO?! Is anyone else out there?" He tried again. Christ, "I think I might be dead.." He was still in his night shirt and pajama bottoms, for gods sake. He smelled slightly of burnt toast. Maybe he died in a fire - no.. no.. stop thinking about it. He'll find someone soon...
