《The Fallen Ascending》Chapter 3: Starting to Walk
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Sometime after I’d grown to be a year old, my body grew to the point where I could start to stagger and walk around more. My knowledge of the world I was in grew by leaps and bounds during this next period of my life. By this point, I’d learned already that my name was Mik’hail Flamedancer – well, that was the shortened version of it. In all actuality, I was the Young Lord Mik’hail of the House of Dancing Flames. My father was Ky’rus and my mother was the Lady Eveningstar.
I had a feeling that Eveningstar wasn’t my mother’s real name, but it was the only one which she gave to people for some odd reason. I don’t know why her name would be something to hold secret, but it was. Maybe when I get older, someone will explain it to me.
As I started walking around somewhat, I also noticed that some of the girls on the island had changed. Some of the oldest ones disappeared and new, pre-teen girls took their place. By wandering, luck let me discover one of these new young girls on her first day here and I learned a lot following along and holding her hand like a good little toddler as she was shown around.
Apparently, I was on The Island of Dancing Flames, which was a piece of land that my parents owned. Mother was a wizard of quite some talent and power, and the girls that were coming here were coming to a school to learn how the mastery of magic from her! It may be that magic isn’t as common in the outside world as it is here, simply for the fact that here is where people come to learn magics!
As for the lack of other children being here, that was simple to explain as well. Mother and Father were the only true “adults” on the island and therefore the only ones who could have children. The girls showed potential for magic around the age of ten, and mother accepted them as students around the age of twelve. Her teaching period was generally about five years with the girls, and then they graduated. The young ladies were students from the age of twelve to seventeen (a few stayed a year or two longer either because they were slow or wanted extended training), and there wasn’t any who stayed after they turned twenty.
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I had wondered where all the old folks were and other children and such, and it’d never occurred to me that my home might be a school of some sort! Even if I were to look at my old school, things wouldn’t have been much different – a few older people who were the teachers, surrounded by their students, and if there were any young children, they were few and far between where one of the teachers just had to bring her child with her one day.
I lived in a school, and my parents were the only teachers there! It finally made my environment make a lot more sense to me.
As to why the youngsters went naked a lot, amazingly enough, that was one of my mother’s rules. The first year at the school, the girls were forbidden to wear any clothing whatsoever. Apparently, status carries a lot of weight outside the school, and clothing must be some form of status. To emphasize to her students that their status meant nothing here, mother stripped them completely for their first year as students. Older students who got in trouble could lose their clothing privileges as well at any time.
The girls learned not to place so much pride into their material things. Mother wanted them to learn to take pride in their talents as wizards, and their magic; not in who had the prettiest dress.
Another time the girls were required to be naked was when it was time for actual magical practice. Mother believed that mana flowed all around us and that by feeling the sun, the wind, and the ground around oneself, it could help wizards attune themselves to the flow of magic more efficiently. If anyone disliked the practice, they never mentioned it. Mother’s word was law. She was the teacher, this was her method of teaching, and if one objected, they could simply leave.
Another odd aspect of mother’s teaching style is that she refused to allow virgins actually to practice magic. They could sit in and listen to the magics, but they weren’t allowed to pull in or release any of the energy on their own. It was her belief that the blood breaking altered the flow of energy inside a woman’s body, and if they had practiced magic beforehand, they’d be weaker forever afterward.
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As the only male of suitable age and body, Father had the duty of being the one to break all the girl’s chastity – and that was a job that he didn’t seem to mind at all! In fact, even after their blood was broken, he’d still sometimes grab one at random and pull them up to his office, under a tree, or visit them in their chamber at night. My father was a pervert!
And honestly, I think I was a little bit jealous of him. The previous me had never actually been with a woman before my death, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t think of it and wish that I could be. My brain still had those desires even now, even if my body couldn’t do anything about them. How lucky could one guy be – dozens of young teenage girls all able to be used to satisfy his cravings at any time!
This new world definitely wasn’t fair! Power, land, authority – they meant everything here, this was mother and father’s land, and they held all the authority in this place.
And, as odd as it sounded, the girls didn’t seem to mind father’s lecherous ways. I think it was simply a fact of them outnumbering him to the point that they did. Father always spent every night with mother, so that was time where he couldn’t bother the girls at all. It was “mother’s time”, and I never knew him to spend it with anyone but her.
As for the rest of the time, the girls were fair game – except there was probably a total of sixty girls and only one man on the island. If father pulled two of them aside for his pleasure every day, that means that the girls only had to be with him an average of once a month.
It was hardly enough that any of the girls felt harassed by him, and often they would even choose a ‘sacrifice’ to go out and get his attention on certain days. For instance, merchants brought goods to our home only a few days each month. If the girls wanted to make certain that father didn’t unexpectedly grab one of them and keep them with him on a day when they might want to go shopping, they’d ask someone to volunteer to ‘keep him busy’ or else they’d end up dicing or gambling for the job some other way.
I don’t know if Father knew what was going on or not behind the scenes, or if he realized he was being ‘kept busy’, so the others could go without any chance of him bothering them. If he noticed, he never objected to the way things were.
As to the Island of Dancing Flames itself, it was a moderately large place that I still wasn’t large enough to wander and explore fully, but from what I’d been told, it was perfectly safe. I was allowed to basically roam and wander anywhere that my little feet could carry me, which at this point in my life still wasn’t too far. Always, there was one young girl or another who kept up with me and followed along to keep me company. If I ever got tired of walking and exploring, all I had to do is hold my arms out and they’d carry me back to the main school area. If I wanted to squeeze or suck on their breasts along the way, they’d usually just laugh and stroke my head and call me “my father’s child”. Apparently being a pervert may not be a bad thing in this world.
At least, it wasn’t for me on the island my parents owned.
I truly was growing up on a tropical, magical paradise, surrounded by nothing but beautiful women. (And one old perverted geezer, but since he was my father, I won’t complain about him. He has permission to stay.)
It wasn’t the same as the world where I’d grown up and lived in originally, but it wasn’t a bad place to be.
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From the Final World
I have lived a long, long time. Longer than the universe knows; longer than any star has seen or traveling light records. My memories; that is all that is left that knows that length, and that which was seen within it. Then again, that is all that ever did. When I am gone, it will be forgotten, a truth and a history lost forever no matter who or what tries to find it. I think that is why I write this now. A record, or a lament, of the most significant being of all time. It is a prideful exaltation of endless triumph, or the dread condemnation of infinite evil. I don’t know which; I shall leave it for others to judge. I could explain further, of course. I could list the sins that have been committed, the deeds that have been done. Yet for now, I believe this is enough. Her story will speak for itself. About the good, and evil, in the heart of a single girl burdened with more than her fair share. And how she reacted to it. So, I will tell her story. Of gods and devils, mortals and monsters, of legends long forgotten and civilizations long turned to dust. And in the end, I hope she knows herself, whether it is salvation, or destruction, she should receive.
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My name is Roth. I live in Taisao City, where I make a living assassinating, planting evidence, sabotaging...whatever my clients require of me. When I don't have clients, I steal. It's a life. But I got caught, and for some reason, after that, I have memories of a man named Jeff-- What do you mean memories? I'm somehow stuck in your body now. I mean, I'm grateful I can finally see, but I really would have loved to see my own world. Things powered by jade is just too different from what I know. --who is now ruining my life by trying to do something good. Something that's not only for my benefit. So will you please get out of my head? Would if I could. But if I have to take over your body to do good, why not? *sigh* And so begins the fight for my body. Which, unfortunately, I may be losing.
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8 199Out of the Motherland
Russia, 1941. Operation Barbarossa. Winter has set in and the German advance is stalling before Moscow. Temperatures are dropping as the promised end to the Russian invasion has not arrived. The winter is the coldest of the century, and German troops are freezing as they push themselves through the snow towards the enemy. Meanwhile, dissent stirs among the German ranks and on their home front. Karl Tesdorpf, a captain in the 30. Infanterie-Division, is caught between his family and the Schutzstaffel - he escapes, but becomes a fugitive among his own allies. Russia, 1941. Western Front. The Soviet frontlines have been overrun again and again. Their great people are completely on the defensive. While reserves are brought in to stem the German forces, the troops on the front line are left with limited supplies and support. Whole Soviet armies are wiped out as they are surrounded and cut off, and for the troops on the ground and in the air victories are few and far between. Amid this chaos, his rifle division reduced to a tenth of their size by enemy armour, Oryl Denikin walks away from the conflict. He heads home, into German-occupied territory, but he is soon to find that his motherland is no longer the place he knew and lived. As both sides funnel their resources into the second great war in a generation, trying to force the other to break first, millions upon millions of men are caught in the middle. This is the tale of just two of them. Dedicated to Gerhard, of #55 - the reason this story exists.
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AntiHero's FIRST REWRITE IN THE WORKS - thanks!! :] EDIT 2/28/22 - sorry, health problems right now, but I will post after rewriting the first 80-90,000 words or so and start fresh from there! Expect the change to be uploaded before summer! So long as I can keep using my hands, that is~! ^_^ X] This story will indeed get fleshed out as my vision improves for the better. But I feel the need to emphasize that a lot of parts are written in improvised comic book format as my primary writing style, and this first book is actually the entry point and starting novel for an entire very vast series I am in the works of developing. Many side characters here will eventually be main characters with there own stories; long or short. But this one particularly will be focused and centralized around Noel. Because of this, I do plan to leave the introduction for side characters as still having a special flow for readers to witness a tad of their background, so keep that in mind after my 'obviously many' rewrites from now and going into the future! Sorry for the troubles! I will improve on my style and implementation of the story!(Although I DO plan to keep parts as 'play style' or rather, comic book style, since I find it easier for certain dialogue instances as well as the fact that the novel is inspired by that 'feeling' you get while reading comic books. But my style is still evolving, you were warned!) Thank you! - Noel Tyler Malierano. He's the youngest 'son' to receive approval from 'The Malierano Family': A Criminal Organization of hitmen and hitwomen that specialize in killing, even maintaining success within a vastly superpowered society. Noel finally manages to complete his training as the newest 'Elite' killer his family created...but, there's just one problem - He doesn't want to kill! Come along and delve into a society of conflicting morals through the eyes of a boy, desperately searching for a new path to follow. Can he even manage to free himself from his father's engrained teachings and ideals? Conversely, will killing prove a lot more difficult to ignore? --- --> Thank you very much for reading! It would be helpful for me if you all consider leaving me a comment or an inbox suggestion, a review or even a full rating wherever AND whenever you believe I need to improve on anything or if something I wrote irked you! I appreciate EVERYONE that comes to read my story, however I DO want to improve my work as a writer. I hope all of you who don't like my work will let me know somehow, so I can edit and IMPROVE my story as a whole! Thank you everyone for your time! --- JUST TO NOTE!! When a character has a cultural name like, say, a Japanese or Russian name, that is because that character IS Japanese or Russian! They don't have to be FULL of one ethnicity either - sometimes they will be mixed. This story mainly takes place on an artificial continent where all countries have sent over their respective talents, meaning characters of ALL cultures and ethnic backgrounds will show hints of that in their names. Please don't assume I'm just randomly naming characters names that don't match them. And feel free to talk to me about whatever in my story troubles you - no matter how small! I love to improve. ^-^ X] --- Just to note: Characters will slowly grow as time passes. Slow pace. THANKS for reading! Enjoy! :] --- Decided to post 2 chapters every Tuesday and Friday instead of taking a small break, but I MAY upload once in a while on different days, such as Sundays, in addition to those two. :]
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