The Sword of the Lost Warrior by Amethyst Bronx (best color ereader .TXT) 📖

It was believed in the Middle Ages that men controlled women. Technically, this was true. Women were treated like estates and animals, if you know what I mean. Thankfully, today, women have more rights and are freer than ever.

Or that’s what most people think. Maybe even you. But we all know that isn’t true. It’s still known that men will ALWAYS underestimate women, no matter what happens. Even when the girl is a super top secret agent/ spy /warrior /martial artist /undercover member of the CSI wanted all over the world.

Women dominate the Earth, and it’s a known fact. Especially in the 35th century.

"All of my memories keep you near.
In silent moments imagine you here.
All of my memories keep you near.
Your silent whispers, silent tears. "


I woke up to the sound of clucking chickens. A stray sunbeam shining through the window told me it was around six o’clock. Softly, I eased myself from the straw padded cot I had for a bed. A leather hair holder rested on the cherry wood bedside table. I grabbed it and swept my hazelnut curls into a long ponytail. Mother was still sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake her up. Yesterday, she had come home from work later than usual, exhausted but happy for reasons I didn’t know.

The morning sunbeam paused over her sleeping face, as if deciding her fate. I paused to watch. As if exhilarated, the beam danced around the room again, pausing over the fairy tales on the homemade wooden bookshelf. The golden light glowed brighter than ever, illuminating the room and bathing it in soft golden light.

The fairy tales on the bookshelf were magic. They had been passed down around my family for centuries, and every child of the Everblade clan where required to memorize them. All of the stories contained one base: that in every family, one female warrior was born.

I walked over to the shelf, and pulled out a book at random. Golden dust puffed into the air as I slid it off the shelf, settling on the floor, but mostly going into my nose. I sneezed, and froze in horror. Had I woken up Mother? Thankfully, she didn’t seem to be awake. I breathed a sigh of relief and tip-toed outside, carrying the book with me.

The forest surrounding our humble wooden house was quiet. I guess that after Starseekers smashed our planet into smithereens during the Omish (rare purplish rock) Rush, animals tended to avoid our area, reffering to sleep and eat in the country's Atrium.

I followed the path the Mother's garden. The town lore claims that breathing in the intoxicating fragrance will cause people to fall madly in love on the spot. She doesn't believe in cutting the flowers, however, claiming that she would be disturbing the spirits of nature.

Today, instead of the normal emptiness, if you can call rosebushes growing wild and sunflowers over 18 feet tall empty, I had a suprise waiting for me.

It was a boy. Lying on the ground with a pair of gardening shears beside him. "Hi," I say, "I guess you're new here. Otherwise, you would know to avoid this garden."

The boy jumped up. He tried to look as if he had been weeding, instead of gazing at the sky.

"Ah...Celeste. You're up." This came from Mother, who gracefully floated in the garden. I hadn't noticed she was behind me. "My daughter, this is my new gardener, Christopher. And Chris, this garden has been known to have people fall in love on the spot." As she's saying this, I swear Chris's eyes were on me. But he quickly looked away after that.

Mother was dressed in her usual attire. With her graceful flowing pink paisley gown, deep maroon cape, polka dotted lavender rain boots, and multicolored glasses, she looked like a flamingo trailing a cloud of butterflies, then run through a paper shredder. But she seemed to glow with inner beauty and strength. Mother stretched. "Well, I guess I'll be off to take a shower. Celeste, remember you've got the Game in half an hour. You kids don't dawdle."

There was an uncomfortable silence after that, which Chris fortunately broke. "So what's that?" he asked, pointing at the book in my hand.

I hand it over. "It's a bunch of fairy tales. You can borrow them if you want. How old are you?"

"Fifteen." I seriously coudn't ignore that fact that he was super cute, with his long black hair and eyes that reflected the sky.

Before I could stop myself, I asked, "Do you have a g-" Thankfully, I stopped myself before I could say girlfriend

. But I guess the blank pause was too obvious. I had forgotten to add in another word in the sentence.

Christopher smirked.

Flustered, and blushing red, I managed to stutter "I mean, do you have a garden

? with a gazillion

flowers?"

"Nope. I ain't got no garden, no flowers. No girl either." If possible, his smirk grew more...smirk-y.

My face turned as red as my hair. "I did NOT say that. And besides, I already have a boyfriend," I lied smoothly. But I guess I wasn't convincing enough.

Chris burst out laughing and dropped to the ground, rolling uncontrollably. "Sheesh, Celeste, you crack me up."

I gritted my teeth and balled my fists.

He wiped tears from his eyes and grew serious. "You look cute when you're mad. And really pretty too. Like a gothic mermaid, with that long red hair." His voice grew softer and softer.

I reached over and slapped his face.

"What was that for?" he said, rubbing his red cheek.

"For making me fall in love with you."

I can't feel my senses
I just feel the cold
All colors seem to fade away
I can't reach my soul
I would stop running, if knew there was a chance
It tears me apart to sacrifice it all but I'm forced to let go
Tell me I'm frozen but what can I do?
Can't tell the reasons I did it for you
When lies turn into truth I sacrificed for you
You say that I'm frozen but what can I do?


(Later, at the Game)

The Game was a completely motorized living computer game. It’s free admission for the school, but it’s not actually a school. Sure, they have math, and science, and the blah subjects of the 19th to 20th century, but I guess normal schools don’t have advanced combat training, 200 ways to kill a dragon, or an armory for the school store. And I forgot, the How-To-Dress-Like-a-Warrior-But-Stay-a-Fashionista class, with hot pink armor as the class uniform.

Publication Date: 07-19-2012

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