phoenixhyperion

**READ ME**

THIS BOOK WILL BE UNDER REVISION.

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My name? Lance Augustus
Age? 15
Nickname? Five. 
Why they call me that? Because the mark tells us so. 
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"Don't be stupid, steer out of trouble, and whatever happens, stay alive." 

I really don't know why Dad always repeat those words to me everyday. I take heed of his words. Play by his rules, never dared to go against him except if it's extremely necessary.

He's all that I need to get by. Our life was ordinary. Everything was perfectly fine, perfectly normal, just an everyday routine we get used to live. But then this guy calling himself 'The Seeker' came... And he start making a mess out of my life. 

He said I have powers. - Who believe that crap?
He said I have extraordinary abilities. - Cool! I want to be Superman.
He said I was chosen. - Who? The god of newbie bullies? 
The mark of five imprinted deep into my skin proves that I am one of the TWELVE. - You sure it's not a tattoo? I firmly believe it's a tattoo. 

I never believe him. I drove him out. I did not listen. I wish I did. Maybe he could have help me. Maybe he could have save me from the trouble of falling right into their trap. I know nothing. Because of my stubbornness I lost everything. So now I'm all alone. But she stretch her hand to me. She gave me hope. She invited me to come. And I did. 

So our search began. For the remaining TEN.
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They called me FIVE

I approached the gleaming sword. Startled by the reflection it's giving me. Instead of my face, I see another person's face on it. Green wrinkled skin, black sullen eyes, like dark empty hole pointing downwards to the Earth's core. I cringed at its sight.

"I wouldn't touch it if I were you." Someone behind me said. Another guy, not Lista. This one is taller, has an air of authority around him. Blonde hair, deep scar on the lower part of his cheek, his eyes are startling metallic grey. His muscles are no joke. I can see the layers of trained hard abs beneath his white thin V collar shirt.

"Who are you?" I asked. He didn't spare me a glance and just stared at the creature reflected in the silver sword.

"That weapon is forged with the use of mana from the Faeries. So anyone who's not a Faery and touch the hilt with their bare hands will die."

The dude's on a break-in mission