I_am_mc2

Song of the Forgotten is a complex story centered around the journey of the main character to become stronger, but focused on the emotional ties and bonds he forms. Rather than a one-sided view of a protagonist mindlessly getting more powerful for the sake of it, Song of the Forgotten explores the motivations and unconscious desires that spur our actions, with compelling questions and multi-faceted characters.


This is the first proper novel I have written, so any feedback and comments are welcome. Thank you!

Song of the Forgotten

Even as the words spilled out of my mouth, the wind changed direction. However, I could hardly care for such trifles at the moment. When I had wished for the wind to stop, it had halted for just the merest of moments before continuing to blast my back. However, I had definitely felt it: the wind had stopped for an instant.

The mana had reacted to my will; there was no other way to explain the situation. However, this implied that mana could interfere with the workings of the wind. I wasn't sure exactly how it had temporarily halted this artificial draught, but perhaps I would be able to use it to my advantage.

After a few minutes, I picked up an arrow from my quiver and nocked it, uncaring of the direction of the wind. I had done a few tests and confirmed that I was indeed able to momentarily halt the movement of the wind, although I would have to concentrate in order to shoot and do so at the same time.

Right before I released the bowstring, I commanded the mana to stop the wind. My mind screamed in protest as it simultaneously attempted to control the volatile mana and aim accurately for the target. Just as the wind halted and I let the arrow fly…

My eyes widened as I watched the air compress, tearing a black emptiness into the space where I had called on the mana. I felt rather than saw the air attempt to fill in the resulting vacuum, before all hell broke loose.

I barely lifted my arms in time to shield my eyes from the blast wind, a wave of superheated air which sent third-degree burns throughout the exposed parts of my body.

I crumpled to the floor, barely able to breathe through the scorching air. The strength bleeded from me in a widening pool of red. I tried to breathe evenly, to stave off the surely fatal shock, but darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision. With the last of my flagging breath, I called out feebly.

____________________________________________

The luminous outline of an old man opened his eyes from his cross-legged position on an invisible floor.

"Did someone call for me?" he wondered aloud.

He rapidly filtered his consciousness through the rooms of trillions of contestants that he had to manage at any given moment with the practiced ease of a professional.

Suddenly, he stopped at one of them - a particularly interesting ant he had taken notice of. His eyes rapidly dilated as he quickly assessed the situation, before he swore quietly and transferred himself into that space.

Slowly, my eyes creaked open, as I saw a blurry figure standing over me.

"S-sorry, Mr. Atten. I'll make sure to wake up earlier next time," I said groggily, struggling to stand before he doled out a more severe punishment than he had already decided upon.

As I forcibly rubbed my eyes open, they focused onto the silhouette of an old man standing before me. It took me a moment to realize three things that were decidedly incorrect about the scene before me.

Firstly, the silhouette did not look like Mr. Atten's shadow at all. Secondly, the silhouette seemed to have a facial expression and it did not appear as if anyone or anything was there to cast said silhouette. Lastly, it was glowing.

"Do you mind telling me just how you got into such a mess, young man?"

BOOM!