Jacob’s dark host was, as usual, waiting for him. What was unusual, was the strange, green glow emanating from the palm of his right hand.
“It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Jacob called.
“Yes, it has. But I’ve used it all to my favor. You had two months to prepare. Yet so did I. You have not the simplest anticipation for my next forthcoming. Even now as we speak, we are drifting farther and farther from your home turf and deeper and deeper into mine. Welcome to Terrasgoth–my country.”
It was true. Jacob and his opponent were seemingly drifting away in some sort of mystical bubble. The camp was now a speck below them, like trying to see a needle point from straight atop it. Strange tendrils of smoke and ash weaved like ribbons about the small capsule, shadows leaking through the holes in the fog.
Beneath them was a strange and rocky land, gloomy smoke shrouded the country, and some areas on the black rock were somehow…burning. Burning with an orange, eerie glow. Jacob shuddered. He was somehow inexperienced and unexpected to fight on this type of terrain. He shuddered once more.
He wasn’t perfect, not like any of the real warriors. Any real soldiers would adapt to the area in a heartbeat. They were all perfect and flawless and unblemished. Not like him. If flaws were specks of dirt, he would be utterly covered head to toe in black soot. His mind was awry in many subjects, his hands only good at writing and normal chores. He was a terrible sword fighter.
Yet somehow he could hear Draax’s rough, yet kind voice saying once again. “No one’s perfect. But you can do your best and try to be.”
Jacob still disagreed. Ever since the old guerrilla had spoken those words, Jacob had thought of him as perfect. Jacob would never be a bush-fighter like Draax was, but he still could fight a bit, not that his skills were any good.
The capsule hit bottom with a sudden jerk, and Jacob tumbled out. Saurocroth followed, a small talisman gripped in one hand. That was what had been giving off the faint green light. With a flick of his giant finger, he activated it, and a giant wall spotted with windows to different realms sprang up.
“What’s this?” Jacob asked in surprise.
“Your doom,” was the answer.
Jacob spun around just in time to see Saurocroth shove him headlong into one of the windows. Just as he did so, a searing pain began in his body, and the pain, the weather, all his emotions everything went black.
Ten-year-old Jaden Rodriguez lives in Valencia California where he reads, writes, draws and swims competitively. He has helped illustrate a book his mom has written, and is in the process of drawing other pictures for a book that his brother currently is working on.