Moon-Of-Newing...for the name of the main character. I still made it up, but she basically owns the name.
Terry Pratchett...the author of one of my favourite books. "Guards! Guards!" Gave me lots of inspiration.
In the great Library of Arisvile, there are thousands of books. Some of them dated as far back as the 1700’s. Or so they thought. The books are seemingly inanimate, but perhaps they are…waiting. At least, some of them did. There is an aisle filled with old, ragged books that have been forgotten. There are rumors that these books can be heard breathing, but the librarian pushes them to the back of his mind. They seem of little importance to him.
The frustrated librarian was mumbling loudly while straightening all the books in the several shelves. “Darn children. Don’t know how to put the damn books back in their place.” While hurrying along the messy shelves of old dusty books, he tripped over a relatively large object. His arms flailed in a desperate attempt to keep balance, but it failed and he struck the floor with a loud ‘thud’. After a few seconds, the librarian groaned and heaved himself up from the hard carpeted floor. Once he was standing straight, he patted his shirt to remove the dust. He looked back at the object that tripped him. Not surprising the librarian was that the object was a book. What the book looked like was the shocking part. The cover consisted of snakeskin and golden corners with many precious jewels. All the pages were carefully cut old pieces of parchment. The librarian wondered when and how the library obtained such a book. He turned through the pages to find that each and every one of them was completely blank. The librarian ignorantly threw the book in the direction of the trash can as if he had done it millions of times. It was a bulls-eye. The book easily fell into the basket, and the librarian kept moving.
Behind him, someone cloaked in a black robe with white trims was following. He turned in the opposite direction towards the trash can. He slowly and cautiously reached out to grasp the book, but when he touched it he gasped and drew his hand back quickly.
“It is so typical of you to do something like this, Loren.” He whispered. He raised a long, oak wood staff with a crystal sphere on the tip and took out a notebook. He quickly turned the tiny flaps of pages until he found the one he was looking for. There was a list of words that would be complete gibberish to most people. He recited each word quietly so the librarian wouldn’t hear. After that, he flourished his staff in a majestic manner and it began to glow. Out of the carpeted floor, a pure black liquid came up in a way that defied the laws of gravity. It began to form into the shape of an extraordinarily large bird. More specifically, it was a black Raven. Once it was in incredible detail, it folded its wings around the man and they both faded out of visibility.
The librarian’s head popped out from behind a bookshelf. “Must have imagined it.” He said quietly. He stepped forward, and saw a large black feather. “Interesting…”
Lenvoy Jevlin, a young boy that lived in Arisvile, woke up and hesitantly stalked across the bedroom floor. Lenvoy was a handsome young boy with long brown hair and oddly colored scarlet eyes. He had pale skin and took to carrying a good book with him wherever he went. His scarlet eyes were sliding slowly around his eye sockets and taking in the many details of his messy bedroom. On the walls, there were old posters of his favorite book. The book was called Taking Flight. It was about a boy who slowly discovers the truth about himself. He was really a dragon. Books about dragons, and mages, and warriors have always fascinated Lenvoy. After Lenvoy read the book, he grew a love for such novels, and obtained many more, each one just as exciting as the one before it. When Lenvoy reached the closet on the far side of his room, he opened it up slowly, and the hinges squeaked. Lenvoy squinted, and carried on. After he got dressed, Lenvoy walked down the stairway and made his way towards the kitchen. The yellow and white tiles on the floor shimmered and Lenvoy could see his own reflection in them. Lenvoy’s mother was a very tidy woman. She was a perfectionist and never let anything slide. That’s why the house was so clean all the time. Lenvoy hated it. He liked everything untidy and easy to reach. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed the milk. He got himself a bowl and a new brand of cereal titled “Wizard’s Flakes”, and made himself cereal. He placed the bowl of cereal on the carefully positioned table, and started eating. In no time, he was finished. Lenvoy ate very fast and casually, but was surprisingly thin. He glanced out of the window and saw a blur of yellow. Once it became clearer it was too late.
“Mom! I need a ride to school!” he shouted up the stairs in a tone of voice that almost screamed ‘Let’s get this over with’.
* * *
“I can’t believe you missed the bus again.” said Robert as he closed his locker. Robert Vizender, Lenvoy’s best friend, was tall, blond, muscular and incredibly tanned. Everyone just calls him Rob. He was physically the exact opposite of Lenvoy. The odd part was the way they both think exactly alike. Say you were to ask them “What is the meaning of life?” they would start blabbing on in perfect harmony. They’re mentally identical twins, but they’re not related.
Lenvoy put his hands behind his head and kept walking. “I guess you could say it was a slow morning.” Lenvoy replied. “I don’t know what’s so shocking about it. It happens every other week.”
“Well maybe you should wake up earlier.” Rob suggested.
“Yeah, that will happen when Darren (Daren’s hair suggested he was a girl) goes bald!” Lenvoy laughed, but Rob’s eyes were fixed on the kid in front of them.
“Umm? Lenny? Who is that in front of us?” Rob pointed a finger lazily at the shaved head in front of them.
“I don’t know. A new kid, maybe?”
“I doubt it.”
“Well who do you think it is…? Oh.”
“Len, here’s our class. Ugh. I hate Language Arts.”
“Same.” The two boys mad a sharp turn in direction to head into the classroom.
Mr. Bagridi stared at them intensely. Mr. Bagridi was a chubby, greedy man who was quick to hand out extra assignments. He could frighten small children merely by glancing at them.
Lenvoy sat back in his desk, closed his eyes and relaxed. “You know Rob, you should really stop trying so hard.” Lenvoy said, opening one eye to look at his friend. Rob was a perfectionist, unlike Lenvoy. It was their only mental difference.
“And you should get a tan!” Rob said jokingly. Rob sat right behind Lenvoy in Mr. Bagridi’s class.
Lenvoy’s face got slightly red. He turned around to face his friend. “Rob, I don’t tan. I burn.” he countered.
“It was only a joke.” Rob said, chuckling.
“Well I didn’t find it very funny!”
The teacher, Mr. Bagridi peered over the large stack of papers on his desk. His icy gaze pierced through Lenvoy. “Well I did.” He said. “Now be silent.” Rob snickered.
“Shut up, Rob!!” Lenvoy bellowed.
“That’s it!” Mr. Bagridi yelled. “You are all to use your computers to look up the meaning of life when you get home!” Mr. Bagridi was a wreck. One couldn’t help but laugh at his unruly hair and his fiery red face when he was angry. “You are then to write an essay of no less than 1,500 words by Tuesday!” He calmed down, straightened his hair, took a deep breath, and sank back into his chair. “Was that clear enough for you all?”
Lenvoy had another friend besides Robert. It was a smart girl named Loren Sarelton, who always liked to stay on top. She had straight black hair and always wore a headband. She had skin even more pale than Lenvoy’s, so she went to the beach every other day during summer and late spring in desperate attempts to get a tan. She raised her hand slightly.
“What if we don’t have a computer, Mr. Bagridi?” she asked politely.
“Well then, Ms. Sarelton. I suppose you are excused from the assignment.” He said curtly. “Sorry to keep you all waiting. You may commence in throwing paper at Lenvoy and Robert.”
Mr. Bagridi was not your average teacher. He allowed several odd classroom procedures. Such as throwing paper at fellow students, and putting tacks on each others’ chairs, except for his. That would get you a detention. This really didn’t matter, because the word ‘detention’ was no stranger to Lenvoy.
The papers came at Lenvoy like cannonballs at the Revolutionary War. Lenvoy put his hands over his head in an almost pathetic attempt of cover. Rob was giving him a sympathetic look, but said nothing in fear of having crumpled scraps of paper thrown at him. Loren said nothing, but it was obvious she felt sorry for him. Lenvoy raised an arm above his face which was buried in his desk so he could just make out Mr. Bagridi’s cruel smile of satisfaction. Lenvoy barred his teeth. Someday I’ll get him for this! He thought. Another rolled up paper came at him and he quickly lowered his arm. At one point a piece of paper came at him from behind.
“Rob! Why the hell did you just throw that at me?!” he looked behind him. Rob was twiddling his thumbs and whistling very loudly.
“Throw what at you?” Rob said innocently. Lenvoy looked at him in an expression that said ‘Nice try’ and uneasily buried his face in his arms once again. Once the paper stopped flying around the room, Lenvoy opened one eye and peered across the room. All he could really see were kids jotting down notes. He flailed his head around the room in search of whatever notes the others were writing down, and was not surprised to see Mr. Bagridi writing down complex notes on the whiteboard.
Lenvoy groaned and laboriously pulled out his notebook. Of course there were no actual notes in his notebook, but various random doodles made during Lenvoy’s boredom (most of which were during Mr. Bagridi’s class). Lenvoy placed his left elbow on his desk and had his hand support his head. With his free hand, he began to draw a large picture of a raven, with large wings and a darkened face. Lenvoy enjoyed drawing ravens, and in his mind had a thought that ravens were his ‘guardian.’ It was his own theory that each individual person had a guardian animal, and that the animal would protect him or her with its life.
Suddenly, a large blur of beige swished passed Lenvoy’s face and slammed onto the desk. One of Lenvoy’s papers slid off the desk and landed on the floor, skidding a few feet to the side.
“What gives, #*@%*^=?!” He yelled, slamming his fists down on the table. Angrily, he looked up to see a furious Mr. Bagridi looming over him, ruler in one hand. “Oh, just give me the slip.” Lenvoy said, holding out his hand.
* * *
Lenvoy was sitting in a small desk at the back of his Social Studies classroom for detention. He took a small glance at the clock perched above the door, then looked through the door into the hallway. I bet they make it that way on purpose, thought Lenvoy, looking up at the large exit sign. It’s probably like that to build up anticipation for the bell…
“No talking, Mr. Jevlin!” Mr. Bagridi’s aggravated voice boomed through the room.
“What are you, a psychic?!” Lenvoy hollered. “I was thinking to myself!”
“I said no talking, Mr. Jevlin.” Mr. Bagridi said in a softer tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow after school. I hope you don’t have any plans.” He added in a false curtly tone.
Lenvoy did not protest, but only slammed his head down on his desk. If there was one thing he hated more than teachers, it was being tricked by a teacher.