Wednesday, July 8, 2009


((Not WoW related. This is a snippet of my yet-unedited story that I might publish, if I finish it.))

Have you ever wondered why things happen like they do? How fate works? What luck is? It is not just how life works. Things don't happen like that. Disasters, wars, they don't just happen. History isn't the now and the past. Because They are here, the world isn't chaotic. You may think it is, but without them making things happen, the world would be a whole lot worse. Or, perhaps, it would be better. But it matters not, because they rule over the world. They are the Makers.
Makers are not humans, not gods, not animals. There is no classification for them except Makers. When you look up at the Northern Lights and you almost see things moving in the lights? That's the Makers. They live above every life-bearing planet, making sure that History is played out like it should. When a rebel leader is assassinated on Earth, that is the work of the Makers. When a volcano explodes and kills thousands, the Makers did it. When farm crops suddenly are cured of a disease and feed hundreds, the Makers where behind it. They do so by coming to Earth, or whatever planet they live around, and manually doing the job. They can use a special power they have to help with this, of course. Magic, you could say, that is powered by particles made in the Sun. 
The particles used are invisible to the human, or "Made", eye. But to a Maker, they are everywhere. Places with more light are more abundant in these particles, or Sols, then dark places, as it is light from the Sun that carries Sols. In a Makers eyes, Sols are small, marble sized glowing orbs that hover in mid air. They can be shaped in to things, used to push and pull things, or even shot at things like bullets. They can also be used to change the form of a Maker, so they can change forms or grow wings and other useful things. Things made out of Sols are very much visible to the Made eye, so Makers are hesitant to use magic in areas infested by Made. The reason that they care about the Made knowing of them is simple. A group called the Rebels, which play a big part in the life of two young Makers...

- 0 - 0 -
I walked down the glowing path casually, towards a hunched black figure. It was waving its hand slightly, causing the space in front of it to glow and swirl. I knew the figure well, she was a fellow Maker, my best and only friend. Her name was Dragonheart. She, unlike most makers, wore the same garb as I; a dark, long, hooded robe that concealed all of our bodies. As I got nearer, she looked up, shrugging off her hood and revealing her face. Mocha-colored skin, black hair tied in to braids down her head, and the glowing blue eyes of a Maker. In one hand, the one she had been waving about, was an Im-pen, the tool used to create images out of words. Dragonheart always had one around, as whenever she had a spark of inspiration, she wrote -- or drew -- it in to the air. 
"Hey." She greeted, giving the half-salute that was our special greeting. She did so with the hand holding the Im-pen, and as she did she must have thought of something, so a streak of swirling colors was drawn as she saluted. I snorted out a half laugh while she growled and erased the color, then greeted, "Hey, Dragonheart. How where your classes?" She was a level above me, I was an Initiate and she was an Apprentice, so our classes where different. 
"Ugh." She grunted. "I swear my mentor thinks I'm a Made or something disgusting like that." I nodded sympathetically, knowing it was partially my fault. Anyone who was my friend was looked down upon, because I was "runt". Everyone hates the "runt". And I was okay with that, because one day "runt" would get her magic and then all of the Makers that made fun of her would burn. Or something like that. Maybe.
"So, how where your classes? Like I don't already know." Her voice broke me away from my thoughts. She had added that last part sympathetically, because my classes always worked out the same way. Me getting pissed, my teacher getting frustrated. 
"Same old, same old." 
"Hah." She mocked, but not in a mean way. That was just her way. I laughed once, then looked up at her.
"So. Do we have anything to do today?" I asked. 
"We have to go to a meeting today. Just mundane things, assignments and the like. I don't know why we even have to go, but rules are rules..." Dragonheart answered, getting to her feet with a yawn. I sighed. We both hated meetings, what was worse then being the most unpopular Makers around Earth and having to go in to a crowded area full of all the Makers that hate you? Only one thing. Having to listen to orders from the Creator, the leader of the Makers around Earth. 
"When does it start?" I asked reluctantly. Dragonheart looked at her wrist, where a ring of glowing orbs showed the time. 
"Hmmm... According to my calculations... Five minutes ago." she answered, and laughed.
We took our time getting to the meeting hall, talking mindlessly about stuff. Not anything important or interesting, just stuff. Wars on Earth, leaders of the Made that had been assassinated. Stuff. When we arrived at the hall, nobody seemed to notice we where late, or just didn't care.
"Look, runt and her weirdo friend are late!" a stranger Maker whispered to his friend. Oh. Maybe someone did notice. And she had to use that name too. Runt. Ugh. I ignored the annoying Makers and listened to the announcements. After a couple of minutes, however, I got bored. I started investigating my long, claw-like fingernails and yawned quietly. 
"Hey," Dragonheart whispered, "Lets get out of here. I'm bored, and so are you no doubt." Nodding at her, we slipped away to the back of the crowd. Nobody seemed to notice as we left. 

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