Chapter 1 - The Golden Butterfly (Part 1)

197 23 82
                                    

Note from the author:
Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read this first chapter of Wielder! This is a story long in the making (over 15 years!), and I am so excited to share it with you! If you enjoy it, consider giving it a vote or leaving a comment! I would love to hear your feedback, as it has been nearly a decade since anyone, other than myself, has read it.

This story is complete, just enduring some fine tuning and editing. I hope to publish a chapter a week (every Saturday) until it is fully published.

Enjoy!
— Liz Feron

———————

There is a weapon.
A weapon that will defeat all Evil.
A weapon that will protect the worlds from harm.
This weapon is The Ultimate.

—————

Nothing could have made the night more peaceful. The heat of the scorching summer day had finally cooled to a cozy, welcoming night. Crickets chirped from the brush growing against the back fence. An owl hooted from its nest against the chimney. The freshly cut grass and crackling fire swirled together into the perfect scent of summer. Even the burnt marshmallows and chocolate lingering on her teeth tasted of the season.

   But Alie did not feel at peace. She sagged further into her lawn chair, uncomfortable atop the waterproof cushions that kept sliding around on it, and stared nearly unblinkingly at Michael.

   He sat beside her before his backyard's fire pit, the tablet in his hands illuminating his focused expression in a distinct electronic-white glow. His brow feathered for a moment – or perhaps that was only a trick of the firelight. Either way, Alie's stomach tightened with nerves.

   It took him far too long to read the essay on the screen. Something had to be wrong. Perhaps what she'd written was confusing. Maybe her descriptions were too extravagant, or her punctuation was poor. She had written it three times, already. The dread of thinking she would have to start over, again, ate at her stomach.

   Finally, Michael lowered the screen. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the firelight. Then, he shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay."

   Relief made her sag limply in her chair. "Yeah?"

   "Yeah. Not your best, but probably good enough to get you accepted."

   "Thank goodness." She scrubbed at her face, trying to rub away the stress from her tired eyes. "If I never have to write another application essay, it will be too soon."

   Michael chuckled in understanding. "You know you're going to have to write a ton if you're going to be an English Lit major."

   "That's different. I'll be writing about books, not myself."

   "True." He reached to the s'mores kit by the fire pit, and wriggled a cracker out from its plastic packaging. Snapping it in half, he said, "You'll be a natural at that."

   "Why, because I read a lot?"

   "A lot? That's all you do. That's all you talk about." He snapped the cracker in half again before putting it into his mouth.

   Alie curled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "I can't help it. I like reading."

   "I never said it was a bad thing."

   No, he had never said that. Nor had he ever said anything to discourage her love of books. He had been the only one in her life who hadn't ridiculed her for endlessly wanting to curl up in the corner with a library book in hand. Even her parents weren't as supportive, as they constantly got on her case when they found her lounging on the couch reading instead of doing something else they thought girls her age should be doing.

WielderWhere stories live. Discover now