King's Lore

The King

"Take this," he said as the sirens wailed through the green plains. The city of Krimly was under attack. The handgun was lighter than usual in Caleb's arms.

"It's for beginners, but it's got real bullets. Don't waste'em," he said.

Caleb nodded as Gaia walked through the door. He went outside. The grass was a lush grassland, the only defect were the smears of blood on them. The slain lay outside. Gaia pinched his nose and walked through, but the stench hadn't hit his nose.

It was his heart.

Caleb stood in the room. Gun on the small wooden table. Gaia said he couldn't help Caleb if he didn't have a Lore.

You might get us both killed instead.

He said. Caleb sighed as the words banged through his head.

Being Loreless was taking its tole. Everyone was born with one. Except Caleb. Lore's were supposed to be reincarnate forms of one's former or true self.

Past lives, current desires and emotions of the heart. These were the measures that affected one's Lore.

But Caleb's Lore wasn't formed at birth. One's Lore sign usually erupted through his or her skin at the age of 1 but his parents never found it and nor did he.

The world around him was crumbling, quite literally. The small wooden safety hut was made for hiding and evacuation purposes and even had a cloaking device to hide from possible attackers.

Wasn't this a safer city? Caleb thought.

He took his gun and walked out. He was Gaia's best friend and this was his reward for it.
He trembled as he walked out, gun held high, his hands shivered. He began screaming as he ran out of the wooden hut. He wildly looked around. A few gunshots and maybe a magic blast in the distance but nothing highly noticeable. He might be able to get to the major evacuation point just fine.

He ignored the sight of bodies around him and looked for Gaia. He seemed long gone. Caleb ignored it and kept running.

He ran across the green fields of Krimly, a farming town on the countryside of the Terran territory, his gun held high and mighty. He then tripped over from his excitement and fell over.

He landed on his face with a thud and let out a cry. He looked around. No one was approaching. He got up and quickly began to run again. He gave out a laugh, reminding him of who he was. A fool.

Caleb Howe was a selfish 15 year old who was sent to the small town for 'safety reasons'. But he knew everyone around him was just sick of him living there.

He wanted to leave and get as safe as possible and he knew that other races would not possibly attack a small farming town.

He was deadly wrong. His running, he felt, was his penance for being such a brat. And he seemed to admit to his ways wholeheartedly. Gaia was his friend and companion but being Loreless seemed to have been the breaking point.

He was sure of his escape, a bit too sure and with a gun he felt unstoppable. But across the green plains emerged the main harrow bringers to the town of Krimly. Their black attires and floating feet meant only one thing, ghouls.

They sometimes had weapons, sometimes even helped each other. But as a whole, a very little threat for those who had weapons, maybe even a Lore.

At least Caleb had one of those things. His eyes seemed to have been filled with worry. How would he have fought those things?

He skipped Lore class every so often that he had close to no idea of how they worked and had no intention of learning something he could never use. Highschool was a pain when Lore was what made you popular.

Yet across these fields, he knew a Lore would be incredibly useful for fighting whatever came his way. He held his head high and held back his fearful tears. His friends would have definitely made fun of him if they saw him.

Caleb stopped for a second, he looked across his shoulder. The small evacuation hut was just a few meters away. Had he ran too slowly. No, he was the top of his class.

Unless, he thought to himself. He knew it had come. The time he had prepared for. The ghoul was only a few meters away to his front. It was a higher variant, a trickster ghoul.

Caleb held his gun up, he couldn't move anywhere as long as the trickster distorted his space and time lapsing. He pulled the trigger back and stumbled backwards from the sound. The ghoul evaded with ease and floated towards him faster. Caleb looked around, the hut couldn't help him, no one could. He held his gun out again and shot wildly.

The sound was deafening but it was his only chance for escape. He looked above him to see the ghoul point it's hands out, ready to keep him in its clutches.

This wasn't the end, or was it?