General Art The God Well

[Lord Death]

Okay so I've been writing this story. It's nothing special, just a tale I came up with a while back, but I'll start posting chapters. It's called "The God Well." It has a sort of fantasy feel to it: lots of magic and swords. The first two chapters are being released together, because without chapter 2, chapter 1 is won't really make a lot of sense. Anyways, it's time to get my writing bearings again. Enjoy.

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Chapter 1


A young man, approximately 18 years of age, wakes up to find himself lying in the bed of an unfamiliar jail cell. A musty smell catches his attention as he observes his gray and barren surroundings. There is another bed positioned next to his, but it is empty. The boy’s red hair has grown long to surpass his eyebrows and his shoulder blades, his yellow eyes dull with a lack of hope. He has been stripped of a shirt, stripped of dignity, as he is only wearing tattered brown pants, no shoes on his feet. Looking for answers, he squints at a sign hung high on the wall across from the bars of his cell.

“L.A.M.U.R,” he reads. His mind scrambles in what seems like forever to decipher the recognizable acronym. But before he can place it, the only door in the room opens. In walks an older man with a pointed face, his slick brown hair streaked with gray, thinning at the top. He is wearing glasses and a white lab coat. His badge reads, Dr. Hale.

“So, you’re finally awake, are you?” the doctor inquires. He pushes up on his glasses and smirks. The red-haired boy rises from his bed and approaches the bars. He has a puzzled look on his face.

“Who – who are you?” the imprisoned boy asks. The doctor chuckles.

“What a curious question,” he notes, quickly scribbling on a clipboard. He fixes his attention on the prisoner. “I say it’s curious because we have been working together for months. It’s also ironic, for I doubt you can even remember your own name.” The red-haired boy pauses.

“It’s Zol, by the way,” the doctor continues. “Zol Luxis.”

“Zol…,” the boy repeats, as if once again learning the sound of his own name. “We… worked together… for months?”

“Yes. You and you’re brother were apart of our God Magic Research Program – well, you still are, anyways – here, at the L.A.M.U.R.: The Luta Academy of Magic Usage and Research.”

“My brother… Wait, you mean Vesil! Did something happen to him? I’ll kill you if something happened to Vesil!” Zol shouts.

“Oh good, your memories are starting to come back,” Dr. Hale says as if he’s amused by Zol’s temper. “Now be a good boy and come along with me. We have much work to do and not nearly enough time to do it.”


Chapter 2


Dr. Hale leads Zol through a series of hallways, Zol’s hands cuffed by a magical bind. Images of these hallways pop up in the prisoner’s head, suggesting he has traversed this facility before. Everything is white: the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the coats. Zol quickly realizes he is no prisoner. He is a test subject.

“I’m sure you recognize this place, huh?” Dr. Hale suggests. Zol makes a barely audible grunting sound, but Hale catches it. “Don’t worry, the tests won’t last much longer. Maybe… five months. Minimum.” The doctor smiles a twisted grin. “Although we would have been done sooner if it weren’t for that horrible incident.” Zol, now connecting this incident with the hint Hale dropped earlier about his brother, places one hand on the doctor’s shoulder, pushing him slightly towards the ground. His yellow eyes flared with life. Flared with anger.

“What incident?”

After a moment of hesitation, Dr. Hale squints his eyes and brushes Zol’s hand off of his shoulder. He extends his middle and index fingers, forming a link of purple electricity between them and Zol’s magical bind. He then flicks his wrist back, immediately tightening Zol’s cuffs and pulling him forward. Hale pushes up on his glasses. “Shut up and follow.”

Hale leads Zol into a large room filled with doctors. They are all wearing white lab coats and golden tiki masks of great variety, hiding their faces and stealing away their identities, as if the task they are about to perform is too heinous for any man to commit. In the center of the all-white room is a steel operating table. Hanging around the table are clear tubes leading to bags of red liquid, about ten in total. Above all of this is a small balcony, home to a man that sticks out among the crowd. He is wearing a black suit and a gray tie, his mask silver and not gold; the mask of a demon, not a tribesman. Zol can tell that he is the one in charge.

“What is all this?” Zol asks nervously. A swarm of golden-masked doctors surround him. “Wait, what are you doing?!” The doctors carry the helpless boy over to the operating table. They lay him down and Hale snaps his fingers, releasing the binds and allowing the doctors to strap Zol into position. They then look up to the suited man for clearance. He nods his head.

“Don’t mess up like you did with Vesil!” Hale shouts. The doctors quickly attach needle pumps to the ends of the tubes. They stick all ten into Zol’s body: two in his shoulders, two in his upper arms, two in his forearms, two in his calves, and two in his legs. Zol cries out in brief pain and bites his lip. Dr. Hale immediately begins a countdown.

“Three. Two. One!” At one, ten doctors release the triggers on the heads of the needle pumps. The sound of released pressure is heard, and at a steady pace the red liquid from the bags filters into Zol’s bloodstream. Suddenly, Zol begins to wry in pain. He screams out as red sparks of electricity shoot out of and back into his body. A red aura swallows the room, emitting from Zol himself. The doctors back away, except for Hale, who steadily approaches.

“Yes, that’s it! Let the Divinity Elixir take hold of you!” He reaches out to grab Zol, but is temporarily blinded by a golden light that blankets the room, drowning out even the red aura in its wake. Hale stumbles and falls back while Zol passes out. The next time he awakens, the test subject will be alone in a forest with the memories of his past clear to him.

**

Alright, so that's it. Chapter 3 will be released tomorrow, and it will really explain what the heck is going on in the story. Anyways, thanks for reading!

 

[Lord Death]

Chapter 3


“Wake up,” a voice calls out. “Wake up, Zol!” The voice sounds muffled, like it isn’t real. A hallucination maybe. But as Zol wakes up, he realizes whose voice it is. Standing over his bed is a tall, blonde haired man, age 21. His long golden hair has streaks of red in it, his eyes a deep blue color like that of the ocean. He is wearing tattered brown pants and a white undershirt, and is smiling from ear to ear, exposing perfect white teeth.

“What is it, Vesil?” Zol inquires in a groggy voice, not content with the amount of sleep he received. “Couldn’t this have waited until after morning testing?” Vesil sits on the bed next to his brother and puts him in a headlock. Both of them begin to laugh. But suddenly, Vesil stops laughing and releases Zol.

“What’s up?” Zol asks. He senses something odd in his brother’s behavior.

“Nothing,” Vesil says with a smile. “I just had a strange dream last night, that’s all.”

“You’ve been getting those a lot lately. What was this one about?”

“Oh, nothing to worry yourself over. Zol, I just want you to know how much I love you. Do you understand that? You’re my little bro. Don’t let these guys ever do anything to you, alright? Be yourself, and just remember that I will always love you. Okay?” After a moment of pause, Zol pushes himself off of the bed and away from his brother. Tears have begun to swell in his eyes.

“Vesil, what are you saying? No one’s going to hurt me because you’ll be here to protect me, right? You not leaving, Vesil, right? Please tell me something’s not going to happen to you. Please. TELL ME!” Zol shouts as tears stream down his cheeks. Just then the door opens.

“What is going on in here?” Dr. Hale asks. He looks over at Zol and flinches in disgust. He sighs. “Come along, Vesil,” he says as he unlocks the cell door.

“No, Vesil, don’t go!” Zol pleads. Vesil looks over at his brother, closes his eyes, and smiles.

“Don’t cry, Zol,” he says. “You’ve grown up so quickly. You’re a man now. Save your tears for someone who needs and deserves them.” Zol smiles at his brother one last time, and with that, Vesil walks out of the room with Dr. Hale. Zol, left there all alone, sits on his bed and sheds tears of remorse for his brother. He wonders what Vesil could have meant, and more importantly, if he will be alright.

The answers to Zol’s questions come forty-five minutes later in the form of an explosion.

The entire L.A.M.U.R. construct shakes and Zol is lunged forward into the metal bars. He pulls himself up, gasping for the air that was knocked out of him. He instinctually touches his forehead, which is oozing out tears of crimson. It takes a moment for him to gather his bearings, but it takes much less time for him to realize the fate of his brother.

“VESIL!” Zol cries out. In his cell, Zol begins to feel the heat of the flames burning in the near corridor, and soon he realizes that even his life is in danger now. He cries out for help, but to no avail. Accepting his fate, he sits on the floor and sobs, smiling when the thought of being reunited with his brother so soon rises. He smiles, that is, until the prison door is pushed open.

In limps Vesil. Torched flesh clings to his face. His hair is no longer streaked red with highlights, but almost completely dyed red with blood. There is no sign of his left arm, just blood that keeps pouring out of his shoulder. He hobbles over to Zol’s cell, leaning the entire left side of his body on the bars for support.

“V-Vesil?” Zol mutters, already knowing the identity of the mangled figure. He places one shaky hand to his mouth to try to prevent himself from gagging.

Vesil raises his only hand up to the cell’s keyhole. Lacking the proper means to open it, he produces a red aura from his body. Suddenly, a strange marking appears suspended in the air directly between Vesil’s hand and the keyhole. It is a red circle with a square on the inside, the square’s corners aligning perfectly with the curves of the circle.

“God Magic…,” Zol observes. “So there is a reason they are keeping us here. Our blood really is the only type fully compatible with it.” Vesil slowly nods and pushes his palm against the keyhole, causing the mysterious glyph and the metal to collide. A few red sparks shoot out the other end towards Zol and a small explosion occurs, destroying the lock mechanism completely. Vesil’s weight causes the door to swing open and he falls towards Zol, who catches him and sits his brother on his bed.

“We have to get out of here!” Zol yells. “We’ll burn to death if we don’t!”

“Heh,” Vesil weakly chuckles. “Brother, is it not obvious? I’m already going to die.” Zol begins to choke up again, but remembers how Vesil told him not to cry. He fights back the tears.

“What happened? What did they do to you? What caused the explosion?”

“Slow down, brother,” Vesil begins. “There is no rush. You will not die here, I promise you. There are a few things I wish to clarify to you as your brother. Truth is I was never totally honest with you, so I will try to explain as much as I can before I go.”

“As I’ve told you before, Zol, our family is special. Here’s the reason why: the Luxis family was the first group of people to live on this planet. We had close ties to the gods above, and because of this we were allowed access to what is known as The God Well. In this well is a liquid known as the Divinity Elixir, and it allows our family to take full control of the God Magic the well produces. A few years ago, a group of cultists known as the Deyvora Order found the hidden location of the well, and since then they have been conducting experiments on our family members in order to gain the ability to control the God Magic themselves. They’ve progressed far to the point where they can manipulate the magic as they choose, but as of right now, their blood will only allow a 15% intake of Divinity Elixir. That’s why – Gah!” Vesil begins violently coughing up blood.

“Brother!” Zol cries, supporting Vesil’s head. “You’re losing too much blood! We have to find help!”

“No!” Vesil insists. “Let me finish. The tests on me were to find a way to allow at least 50% control of the God Magic; 100% would make you a god. They injected me with the Divinity Elixir from the God Well, but they gave me too much. The elixir circulated through 65% of my bloodstream. They couldn’t control me. The instruments malfunctioned due to the high aura levels I produced. That’s what caused the explosion. I was at the center of the blast, but I didn’t die; the aura protected me. Listen, Zol, they are going to try the same thing on you. This Deyvora Order has plans for this world, and they need you to achieve them. I’m going to make sure they don’t get you.” Vesil raises his arm in agony and rests his hand on Zol’s forehead.

“What are you doing?” Zol asks.

“These people… They think the God Magic has only one use: Destruction… Well they’re wrong. God Magic… has four properties to it. This one… is Life.” From Vesil’s body emits blue aura. Suddenly, the environment becomes tranquil and calm. A soothing feeling fills the air as a white light protrudes from under Vesil’s hand on Zol’s forehead.

“Brother,” Vesil says, “this is how I will protect you. My spirit will reside in your memories. This will cause a temporary loss of memory, and you’ll be in a comatose state for a few months, but when the doctors try to inject you with the Divinity Elixir, my spirit will take control of your body, and I will save you from them. Sleep now, worry not about the flames. You will be safe. This is my final goodbye, to you, brother.” Both Vesil’s and Zol’s eyes close. Both will be reawakened on the same day, just a few months from now.

This day, Zol thinks to himself as his memories come flowing back. The Divinity Elixir has been injected and it is now Vesil’s turn. This day, Zol repeats.

 

[Mido]

Simply amazed! This story has huge potential, and I can't wait to see more! Great job Lord Death.