Welcome to Gaia! ::

The little village was prosperous in many ways. The artists provided modern art that was sold to nearby towns; the butchers had fresh meat everyday; the farmers had fresh vegetables from the fields; the blacksmiths were busy everyday, melding and molding things out of metal. But the main export of this village was the one thing that everyone had in common: magic. Everyone in the town was a magician. From the farmer to the doctor everyone knew their own type of magic. Some were dark and evil. Others seemed to be good. But magic was used everyday and everyone knew it.

One boy, however, was not so fortunate.

Jaime was a young orphan who grew up in the streets. No one would take him in. He was the only orphaned child, with no home, in all of Miol. He was sure that the neighboring cities had orphans in the street but he’s never been out of Miol so he has no way to be certain. The only thing he knows about them is that there are two that are really close. They are Malaka and Kinsdle. He also knows that they are currently at war with the two towns. He thought the towns as evil for attacking his home, but paid them no mind. The leader of Miol was doing all he could to keep them at bay. Currently they were at a cease fire.

Jaime wandered the streets during the day, taking in his surroundings so that one day he can help everyone here. He walked out of the alley he slept in and stood beside a fruit stand. The stand was made of heavy wood so it could support the weight of the fruit. On it was always something new and something fresh. Today the stand owner, Hardie, a tough man with a soft heart, had a new shipment of ripe red dernanas, ghama beans, and kwestoes. Jaime loved kwestoes for their pointy exterior which protected the sweet juices inside. Just looking at them made his mouth water.

Since he had no money, Jaime was always forced to steal the fruit. He never took more than one thing from each stand for fear he might get caught. But today he might get away with swiping two fruits because Hardie was dealing with a pretty difficult customer. He kept saying the fruit wasn’t ripe.

“Oh it’s ripe,” Hardie replied, “I picked them myself. You think I would lie?”

“Sure, you say its ripe,” The customer fought, “But how do I know you’re not lying? After all, this dernana is definitely not completely red yet. It still has a touch of pink to it!”

Jaime sat down next to the stand, watching carefully. Hardie was nice, but he had a bit of a temper.

Hardies’ face was the same shade as the dernanas, “All of the dernana ripen at the same time if they are on the same tree. All of the other fruits are ripe, so how could that one be unripe?”

Jaime reached his hand up, as Hardie spoke, and reached for one of the dernanas. He grabbed the one closest to him and sat back down. Hardie did not stutter or acknowledge that he was there.

The customer looked into Hardies’ eyes. He gave a slight smirk and continued his speech, “So if what your saying is true, then how do you know that they are all the same shade? Can’t at least one be unripe from the others stealing the nutrients from it? While the others mature faster?” Hardies’ face went pale. He’d never thought of that, “Which means that you could have one—or even more!—unripe fruits.” The customer crossed his arms.

Hardie closed his eyes as Jaime reached for a kwesto. He grabbed one and soon regretted it. He forgot about the needles as he gave a slight yelp. Thankfully neither of the men seemed to notice. Both of them might have reported him to authorities. He stayed low to the ground as he headed back to the alley, a big smile on his face. He sat on the ground and looked around. An automatic thing since he was always being chased. Usually by other kids, though since they knew magic they always caught him, but more recently by police and guards from the castle that were passing by. For some reason, people have more of a problem with him lately. He doesn’t do anything wrong, besides steal. But he has never been caught, so why chase him?

He relaxed as he pealed the dernana first, saving the kwesto for later. Eating two sweet things at once would make him a little crazy. Especially since he’s not used to treating himself like this. He took a small bite, enjoying the sweet taste with a slight tang. Jaime loved the unique taste that they had, like nothing else he ever tasted before. It was a fruit that was rare anywhere but here. Or so he has heard. He had heard that each town has a few species of fruit that are only able to grow there. Of course, there was one fruit that everyone had. It was the one everyone was fond of. X beans. They were called that because the leaf of the plant that produces these beans—which were big enough to fit one in the palm of your hand—, was shaped kind of like an “X”. Those had a spicy taste with a sour aftertaste that makes them irresistible. This means that you can’t eat just one, you feel like you have to have another. Jaime didn’t feel that way, however. He never liked the X beans and it’s probably because the last time he had one, it wasn’t completely ripe or clean. His former friend had pulled it out of the ground, rubbed some of the dirt off, and gave it to him telling him it was like heaven. Well, of course he didn’t like it. Like I said, it was still dirty. Isn’t that enough to not like it? Naturally, Jaime tried to call on the magic aura that was hidden deep inside him without much luck. The other kids chased him down an alley, hitting him with their magic which varied in different shades of dark green. Once they had cornered him, Jaime tried to conjure the magic again, this time resulting in a bright yellow light. The children ran away, screaming like they were in the middle of a battle field. Everyone stayed away from that alley which has become Jaime’s only home he’s ever known. He still wonders where that light came from.

He stuck the last of the dernana into his mouth and stood up. He stretched his arms out behind his head as he yawned, closing his pale—almost gray—black eyes. He had pure snow white hair that was black at the tips and at the roots, he kept it spiked slightly. It was naturally like that but people still asked why he did it. He had noticed, once, that everyone in town had dark hair, usually ranging from dark red to pure black. He has even seen a few people with dark silver hair.

He wore old clothes that he had found lying in dumpsters and on the street. An old lady once gave him clothes, but it wasn’t kindness. It was more like she was giving rotten bread to the birds. His shoes were the one thing he treasured. He took good care of them because he had found them brand new in the trash. They were black tennis shoes with a little design on the side that proved that they had to be hand made. Jaime made sure that these shoes were never too dirty where they could not be clean. And when he wasn’t wearing them he put them in a box he found in a dumpster.

He passed by the book store and almost went in. Though no one seemed to like him, the lady who owned the bookstore seemed to let him read any of the books he wanted. She didn’t like him at all, but she was the only one who ever seemed even remotely nice. At least she saw him when he walked by. She saw him as a person and not as just another piece of trash on the ground that someone just didn’t have the time to get rid of or even pick up. He walked away from the bookstore and continued to the center of town.

Miol was a small town, so the people would come to the center of town to commerce and have conversations about magic or the war that was currently on hold. Jaime stopped and leaned against the nearby wall. He looked around him, studying the stands and people. One stand caught his eye. Though it sold no food, he could see that the owner took real pride in showing off his jewels. He had big ones and small ones. Even some of many different colors. Even at this distance he could hear the owner who was speaking unnecessarily loud, for all to hear no doubt.

“Why yes!” the owner practically screamed, “This one would be the best choice.”

Jaime guessed that the customer must have asked about some potion or magic. He couldn’t tell because the owners voice was the only one he could hear.

“No doubt it would serve even that purpose well, my good friend!!” He said again.

Now Jaime looked at the customer he was addressing.

It was a tall man with dark silver spiked up hair. He guessed that the silver hair was not for his age because the man looked to be no more than thirty years old. He wore a long black leather jacket that could have been fake leather. He had a blue shirt on underneath that Jaime saw when he turned away. The merchant called back to him and he turned back around. The jacket had the villages’ symbol on the back. It represented everything this town stood for. Unfortunately, Jaime did not know what that was. Peace among the cities? For some reason, he doubted that. The man also had black pants and black dress shoes. He could have easily been a rich farmer or salesman. From the way he handled that merchant, he could have just as easily been a cop. The man put his hand on the back of his head.

“Thank you, sir! Come again!” the merchant yelled. Apparently the man had bought something. Jaime looked for a sign or some indication as to what the merchant was selling. A sign above the merchants head read:

“Magical Artifacts Collected from All Around the World!!!”

Jaime scoffed at the sign as he turned his head and closed his eyes, “Should have figured,” He mumbled to himself.

“What’s that, boy?” a voice said.

Jaime opened his and looked at the ground in front of him. He saw all he needed to know who it was.

“I said nothing, sir,” he said, looking up into the dark eyes of the man who had bought something from the very loud merchant. Now he could see that the man was, in fact, very young.

The man gave him a questioning look, “Where are your parents, boy?” he asked him, looking down on him.

“It’s Jaime,” he said, a little angry now, “and their dead.”

The stranger did not move, “Ah, so you are the orphan I have heard so much about. Hear you’re a pretty good thief.” a slight smirk pulled at his lips.

Jaime did not change his expression. He decided to play his game, “Heard you bought something from Mr. Loudmouth over there.”

This made the stranger smile. He closed his eyes and relaxed a bit. Jaime did not falter, “Damien.” Was all he said as he extended his left hand.

Jaime took it and shook hard. Surprised when the stranger tightened his grip as he did. He looked down at their hands and said, “Quite a strong grip.”

They released each others hands and took a step back. Jaime stood in the center of the alley. Two boys were hiding behind a crate not too far away. Damien saw them but did not make their presence known. He waited to see what they would do.

“So,” he started, keeping his eyes on Jaime, “How does one such as you come across such well crafted shoes as those?”

The boys slowly made their approach. Damien’s’ face remained indifferent.

“I found them,” Jaime grumbled, “They were in a dumpster and—”

“Firecracker, back!” the two boys yelled at once, pointing at Jaime’s back.

Jaime fell forward as two different colored auras exploded on his back, one was dark gray and the other was a light blue violet. He fell to his knees and the two auras disappeared, the boys were left laughing hard.

“Zipper, mouth,” Damien muttered quickly, and with a flick of his wrist at the boys a pitch black aura surrounded their mouths and they were instantly silent, “Do you mind? We were talking.” He said, politely.

The boys nodded, touched their right hands to their left shoulders and bowing their heads, and ran off.

Damien smiled. He looked down at Jaime on the ground, “Are you ok?”

Jaime had his face in his hands. He looked up, “Yeah. Their always picking on me. Everyday I get hit by the same attacks.” he put his face back down as he stood up, groaning.

Damien looked confused, “Well, then why don’t you fight back?” he said.

Jaime put his hand on the back of his head as he flushed, embarrassed, “Well, I would but I, uh, don’t know any magic.”

He was shocked, Damien had never known a child that could not do magic, even if it was something small like picking up rocks from across a room, “Were you never taught how to control your aura?”

Jaime shook his head, “My parents died when I was very young, too young to be taught anything. All I remember is that I look exactly like them both, in every way. Or so I’ve been told.” he looked at the ground again as he leaned on the wall.

A girl walking by looked at Jaime and grimaced. When she saw Damien she did what the boys did and kept walking. Damien nodded to her.

He turned back to Jaime, “Well, we can’t have you wandering around without even the basics to magic. So, I guess since there is obviously no one in town willing to even look at you, I’ll just have to teach you myself.” He smiled.

Jaime looked up at his sincere smile, shocked by his words, “What?” he asked, unable to believe what he had heard.

Damien chuckled, “I said that I am willing to teach you the magic if you are willing to work hard for it.”

Jaime stood up straight, his gray eyes sparkling, “Really? You would teach me?”

Damien nodded.

“Thank you! Thank you! I promise that I will work hard to deserve such kindness.”

Damien smiled wider, “Wonderful! Come now, boy. I will take you to my home and get you some clothes,” They both looked down at Jaime’s apparel, “you could really use them.”

“Are you just going to keep calling me ‘Boy’?” Jaime asked, smiling as wide as Damien.

“Do you have a problem with that?” he led the way out of the alley and into the square towards a more popular district.

Jaime shook his head, “No, but if that’s what your going to call me, then I need a name for you. Like ‘sensei’ or ‘Big Kahuna’ or even ‘crazy master’” he joked with a smile.

Damien caught on, “’Sensei’ will do.” he said smiling.

Jaime smiled as they walked. Finally, someone who didn’t look down on him. Someone who would smile and joke with him. But most importantly, someone who would teach him magic.

He looked around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. He had been to this part of town once, but that was before he was chased away. He frowned slightly. All around him people were either giving them dirty looks or ignoring them completely. He welcomed the dirty looks because at least they saw him. There were a lot more street venders and food shops in this part of town. But none of them looked like he could steal from them, but he quickly figured he probably wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

He suddenly remembered the kwesto in his pocket and felt that it had a side smashed in. He frowned further, knowing that he will have a bruise there from when he fell. He couldn’t feel any pain, but he still ignored it.

Damien led him all the way through town until they stopped at a little bookstore. Much like the one he knew, but it seemed nicer somehow. More peaceful. Damien unlocked the door and stepped inside, Jaime followed. He locked the door as soon as Jaime was inside.

Damien walked back to the back room, gesturing for Jaime to follow, “This is where I live.”

“In this shop?” Jaime asked, “Do you run this shop too?”

Damien smiled as he sat a silver watch on the table, “It’s not a shop. People can not buy these books, but they are welcome to read them. This is merely a library; people come here to read during the day.” He looked up at a nearby clock, “The last few people left sometime ago.”

Jaime looked at the books that fill the front room, “There is so many. How do you know whether or not people steal any of the books?”

Damien turned to a nearby window and shut the curtain, “No one ever does.”

Jaime rolled his eyes, “Okay, but how do you know, Sensei?”

Damien went to the other window and closed the other curtain, “Boy, when you know as much as I do, your aura will start to rub off on things and become like a part of you. I know they don’t steal.” He turned back to Jaime who was obviously confused, “You have yet to unlock the aura deep inside you, but, you will soon learn.”

Jaime walked around, taking in the entire room.

It was a small room with two windows on one wall. The windows each had dark curtains that made he room look darker. The ceilings were low through out the entire building, with lamps hanging down and illuminating the rooms. The doors were heavy and made of thick wood with round metal doorknobs. The walls looked to be made of the same type of wood. It looked as if they were in a small old kitchen. An old stove stood in the corner with counters all around it. A fridge stood about five feet from the stove with counters in between them. It looked as if someone had been cooking; there was food scattered on the counters.

Damien saw Jaime’s distraction. He walked over to him, “Do you cook?” he gestured to the knife sticking out of the counter.

Jaime flinched away from it. He never liked knives, especially since he used to be chased away by the superstitious butcher, who chased him with a big steak knife. He almost caught him a few times. Jaime never went back to that district again.

He took a small step back, with a nervous smile, “Can’t say I do. I’ve never had the proper tools needed in order to cook. Do you, Sensei? Because this looks like a big mess if I ever did see one.” he said his voice a little hysterical.

Damien raised an eyebrow, “You ok, kid?”

Jaime tried to smile, “Y-yeah. Just tired, is all.” He griped his chest without realizing it, and started to sweat. For the first time in a long time, he felt scared. Like his life was being threatened by just being there. His eyes were locked on the knife, and he was unable to move. Then, everything went black.