A Journey To The Clouds, A Fantastical Prophecy - Book One -

Ansel is asleep, Gunner." A woman whispered to a very well-fed man hovering next to her. Her light yellow gown fit her fleshy body, reflecting the moon's light in the large bay window that inhabited most of the room. "Clarice, let's get out of here quietly now, so we don't wake him up." Gunner replied quietly. Clarice looked at Ansel once more before she followed Gunner into an incredibly wide and long hallway, leading to a great room with a large, marble staircase. Remnants of the feast they had earlier, such as pie, chicken, turkey, r****h, and eclair cake still remained on the big, long table, big enough to fit twenty-thousand men. Outside of the castle, the most beautiful scene you could ever imagine lays before your eyes. There were elegant birds flying over little villages in the distance. Small, clear rivers seemed to hover above the plains, meeting other lakes and ending in a waterfall, flowing into the Atlantic. Closer to the castle were crisp, snow-capped mountains that looked like they were floating on clouds. The castle itself was in fact on the clouds and made of an exquisite marbled stone. The doors were arguably the most gorgeous man-made item in the palace. Their original, extraordinary carvings were the only ones in existence. The entire land and the acres beyond seemed to join the castle on the clouds. The shops, businesses, homes, and even the people. The sky was clear, though. Different shades of blue were shown day and night for countless generations. No clouds in sight. *** The young boy grew as the years went on. He trained to be a fighter at the age of seven and grew into the finest warrior in the king's army. When the warrior went on away to help other villages, he found a creature almost taller than he! Ansel took the creature back to the castle and immediately took him to his mother. "Mother, I found this on the way back from enemy territory." She did not dare speak. The main reason was that she just couldn't. The specimen looked like a young boy. . there was something off with him though. . . something she couldn't figure out. The Queen gave the boy a suspicious glance, and the boy held his breath. "What do you plan to do with him, Ansel?" "Well, he could be useful to the kingdom, can't he, mother?" Ansel asked. Clarice gave him and the boy long glances with narrowed eyes. "I suppose. . . Ansel, you did find him. So you can make sure he has a meal, shelter, and be sure to teach him about personal hygiene." She said. Ansel brightened up at the sound of his mother's sly approval. "I will make sure I do that." Clarice put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "He will do very well. I can feel it." Clarice says, satisfied. The creature sighs in relief. Clarice bent down to get a better look at him. "What is your name and what breed are you?" she asked. Ansel gave his mother a surprised glance. He looked off, sure, but species? Why a human of course! The boy looked nervously into Clarice's eyes. "I don't know." He said. His accent too. A foreign English. "Why, we can figure that out for you. Who are your parents?" Clarice asked. The boy looked at the floor, now, of embarrassment. "Okay. You may leave now. My cleaning mistress is outside. She will get you sharpened up." The Queen said. The boy scampered off. Even his walk was. . . odd. Once the boy was gone, Clarice leaned towards her son. "Ansel, give this boy a name and origin," she whispered. "Yes, mother." He said. "I already have some ideas." *** Ansel and the boy soon become friends. Some considered them brothers. Rebel, the new name of the boy, followed in Ansel's footsteps. He went to school at the age of seven. During the night, Ansel and Rebel would go out and practice fighting moves, as Rebel was one to be behind. Ansel could tell English was not Rebel's first language. His legs were even curved in such a way that made it hard for him to jump. From part-time to full-time, Ansel became Rebel's teacher. From then on Ansel taught what his father taught him: Be brave, take risks, and explore the unknown. Regardless of what was taught, that was always at the back of their minds. On the day, June fourth, when his class became full warriors, Rebel joined them and became a warrior himself. The Queen made him a special exception, and the crowd roared and cheered for the young warrior. Many years after he was first called a warrior, the King and Queen assigned Rebel a quest: To find extra territory for housing. The second quest he has taken since being made a full warrior. On his journey though, he meets what many would call "the enemy." His journey required him to go far west of the Cloud Kingdom. During his training, he was mentored to try and stay calm and, yet forcefully try to scare the cyclops off. He kept that in mind until he saw it. He had never seen one before, but the descriptions Ansel gave all those years ago matched the appearance of it. The significant eye sent shivers down his spine. Instead of silently throwing his spear at the cyclops, he stood there, oh so still. The cyclops stopped and stared at him. Instead of silent fury, he felt. . . peace. Well, at least he got part of the technique correct. In fact, he meets a whole tribe of them! They all have the same, grim appearance, with the same, grim expressions. Instead of stability, yet again, he felt respect. The opposite of what he was supposed to feel. Did this make him a warrior at all? He needn't care. Rebel wrote of his experience to the now King Ansel the night he returned with the cyclops. , . ' . ' . , . , , . Rebel grew respect for the tribe, and soon, he joined them. He was promised the basic needs of any living creature but was also promised power, and freedom of beliefs. Little did he know that hundreds of years later, The fantasy world he once knew would be in jeopardy, and become a devilish world filled with hate and evil. . .