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 gaped at the figure. He's bowing to me. That should mean he was calling my name. But my name is Lance, not Lancelot.

"Who's Lancelot?" The shadow back away in surprise. Then let out a sound between a chortle and a sneer.

"You are." He turned, a body part – I think his arm separated from his body and gestured towards the clearing, covered in the veil of mist, a single curve opening formed at the center.

"Sam… was it? He's in there." I stared at the portal he's gesturing. "You should hurry. He's about to cross the First Gate." I looked over him. From a waist down he's an apparition. No feet, no legs, nothing. He doesn't have hands sticking out of his robe like cover.

If it weren't for the glowing of his eyes, I would suspect this guy don't have a face. The dead grass on my feet crunch as I take a step backward. Determine to put some distance between us.

"I'm a Soul Keeper." Was there such a thing?

The Land of the afterlife