Beginnings

Beginnings

Chapter 1


Words can change the world. Words can be truth. Words can be deceit. Strung together such words make stories.
This is such a story.
In this world, there are five gods. The gods are of light, shadow, order, chaos, and a god of balance that links them together. He is the scale that balances the other four, and channels their power into the life force of the world: ether. The ether spreads throughout the world and infuses the lands, granting freedom of choice and will to inhabitants.
The ether gave life to plants, animals, and gave form and thought to humans. Some humans experimented in the ways that the universe worked and how to use it, discovering the power of science. Others began to bend the raw ether to their will, giving them the power of magic. However, there were some who resented the gods for controlling the Etherflow, and hated that the land had been ripped apart by their whims and squabbles.
Then, one day, a good wizard traveled to the ethereal realm and defeated the gods. He sealed them away and slowed the Etherflow, preventing magic tyrants from taking the god's place. The world was free to create its own destiny free of the gods, and the people were happy…

"I'm happy! I'm happy! Can't you see my happy face?" he said sarcastically. "Of course I'm not happy, you idiot!"
"Jeez, bite my head off, why don't ya?" His companion leaned back in his spindly chair.
He slammed his fist against the wall. "I can't believe I fell for his trick."
"Yeah, for being a rapier, you sure are dull."
"That's Sworday, jackass, and you know it," he sighed. "I don't want to work for that sleaze-bag slave-driver making shoes for the rest of my life," Sworday looked around at the room he and his friend, Petro, shared. It wasn't the greatest room in the world, what with being tiny and furnished with junk, but it was home.
Petro looked at him and said, "You know the law, every orphan HAS to have an apprenticeship by sixteen, and old Tartul Shoehead has had it in for you since the incident last winter."
"Which incident?"
"The fact that there's more than one might tell you why he might not like you," Petro said, dryly.
Sworday shrugged. "Is it my fault he has no sense of humor?"
"You stole shoes from his shop."
"It was just a little pro-active charity." Sworday rolled his eyes.
"Normally, I don't care, but you SUCK at it."
"Practice makes perfect."
"Gods know you practice a lot, and yet, you still seem to attract attention more efficiently than a clown with a battle ax," said Petro, exasperated.
"I just need to be sneakier."
"Face it dude, you're as circumspect as the Etherfall Parade." He stretched and got up. "Well, I'm gonna go grab some grub."
Sworday looked at him askance and said, "You have no money, how are you going to get food?"
"No worries. I'll be shopping with the five-fingered discount."
"Some role-model you are."
Petro just waved his hand and walked out. Sworday buried his face in his hands and thought, "Man, I wish I looked more, well, normal." He glanced over at the broken mirror on the wall.
Sworday was about five-foot-eight and fairly scrawny. He didn't have a lot of fat or muscle thanks to not having regular food or work, and was too lazy to get any. He had sort of an average face, and his hair was a waist-length tangle, but his most striking feature was its color. Whereas everyone else had the usual blonde to black hair, his was a bright neon purple that no amount of dirt or dye had ever been able to hide. His eyes also shared that same abnormal hue that caught people's attention immediately. It was a source of frustration, since it made it difficult to pickpocket when your head is more colorful than the kingdom's flag.
"I'm never going to get out of this situation by looking in the mirror," he thought. His stomach growled. "Ah well, may as well go get some cash for grub at ye olde drunken sot house. Might see if Petro wants to join; always easier when there's a distraction handy."


Chapter 2


The capital of the kingdom of Thesparia, Twelve-Point City, was home to over one million people, making it the largest in the kingdom. The city used to be called something different, but it was changed on account of it being nearly unpronounceable. Twelve-Point City took its name from the towers that dominated the city's landscape. Twelve towers evenly ringed the city perimeter, with one enormous tower at the center. If viewed from above, the shadow of the center tower could be used to tell time based on its relation to the other towers, like a giant sundial.
The purpose of the towers was a widely contested topic among historians and archeologists, especially at the university in the city of Sigbar, where supporters of various theories had actually come to blows on the subject. As no one had ever been able to enter one within human memory, the debate raged on.
The royal palace and the mansions of the noble upperclassmen dominated the town center. Just outside lay the houses and shops of the merchants and enchanter companies, as well as lively bars, taverns, and inns. The outer edge of the city remained a slum that the kingdom had made many laws to improve, with varying degrees of success. This included the mildly successful Orphan Act, which guaranteed every orphan an apprenticeship by age sixteen.
Living in Twelve-Point city is said to be a great joy to the general populace, and it is often called the city of the sky, the best place in the kingdom.

"This place is a dump!" thought Sworday as he slipped through the crowd, looking for a mark.
The pub was dark, dirty, and rowdy, a perfect place for some innocent pick pocketing. He had his hair and eyes concealed by a dirty brown hooded cloak, and he was doing unusually well, having already gotten two small pouches with some silver and brass coins, and was ready to call it a day after one more find.
        Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the opportunity of the century: a huge pouch tied to a cord around the waist of a woman. She was sitting at a table with some guys in such a way that she'd never see him coming. He snuck up behind her and cut the top of the pouch off so it would fall right into his hand. That's where things went wrong.
The pouch landed in his hand, and was twenty times heavier than expected. His hand hit the floor with a loud 'THUD' and several large lead coins fell out of the pouch. The lady, noticing the missing weight of the pouch, turned around, and seeing his hand pinned by the lead coins, grabbed his arm in a vice grip. Her friends surrounded him and he began to panic.
"Shit."