"Tears of Sardonyx: Kteria - Prologue" by Skyler Crouse

PROLOGUE

All my life I’ve wondered why on earth it had to happen to me of all people. I haven’t even attempted to explain it to anyone because I know for a fact that they’ll just think I’m a few fruitcakes short of a picnic. Even I have trouble coming to terms with the knowledge that I’m actually still sane afterwards. Who knows, maybe you’re just as dotty as I am and you’ll take me seriously. The point is, it happened, and there was nothing in the entire Elphin Galaxy that could’ve prevented it at the time. But hell, I actually enjoyed it.

“Adela.”

Images of Kawaii fluttered into the blank abyss of her mind, the sun blazing down upon her skin like the breath of a dragon, and the lashing of the azure waves was music to her long, elfin ears…

“Adela...”

Plump ripe coconuts graced the tops of majestic palm trees, swaying dreamily, as the sweet jolly sounds of a banjo swarmed the air from far away…

“Adela!”

The virgin sand on the pristine beach was so fine and warm that it fell smoothly between her slender fingers, and she couldn’t help noticing that her short, blood red hair was extremely soft and beautiful…

“Adela Leafshanks! WAKE UP!”

And then she was vaguely aware of a large, rectangular black object making a beeline for her head –

Which promptly hit me in the desired spot. Yes, great life I lead, right?

Adela groaned, Kawaii dissipated into oblivion, and to her dismay she found herself back in History class in F8 with Ms Kendra breathing down her neck. She looked miserably down at the copy of An In-Depth Analysis of the Hollowcost which had given her the latest fashion trend in bruises, and then she looked up into Ms.Kendra’s wild amethyst eyes and long gold hair that was scattered over her shoulders.

“Yes miss…” she mumbled, just audible enough for the teacher to retort,

“ ‘I shall never sleep in class again.’ Write that phrase out one hundred times in your e-notebook, Miss Leafshanks, or heads will roll. Yours in particular.”

Adela rolled her bronze eyes once Ms Kendra’s head was turned away from her.

One hundred times? That was hell. Worse than hell, if the Controllers of Fate decided to be ultra-nice to me. If their previous decisions concerning myself are anything to go by, they would throw me a ball and make glass slippers for me. Not bloody likely.

Some of her lovely and benevolent classmates decided to thoughtfully retain her dignity by giggling immaturely.

They can burn in hell.

Ms Kendra cleared her throat and resumed her lecture about whatever the hell it was she had been lecturing about (It could’ve been about rabbits and trampolines for all I care). Adela quietly fished around in her pencil-case for her favourite lime green gel pen with which to write her new punishment with. ‘I SHALL NEVER SLEEP IN CLASSx100’ she groaned in despair once Ms Kendra’s head was turned.

Ye gods, I hate history. It’s all in the past. It should stay there, thank you very much. Besides, ever since the incident I know more about the future than the present. But, look, I try. I don’t deliberately muck around or blow things up. I keep my head down, but all I get in return is a pile of dog turd for a life. Sometimes I want to throw a brick at logic.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring! The school bell chimed. Inside Adela’s head, tiny people jumped around playing trumpets in fanfare. She bolted out of the classroom door quicker than a firework, her long grey trenchcoat swirling around the floor like fog, her vermillion hair flailing all around.

Some people have made nasty comments about my trenchcoat. They say it makes me look like a detective. They can also burn in hell.

The corridors of Rethodist College burst its banks, spewing forth scholars from every room and flooding every corner. Adela thought she would drown amongst this sea of students and suffocate on the stench of B.O.

It really was that bad.

Fumbling with the torn and tattered pieces of her school timetable, Adela confirmed that her next lesson was Geography, that most purposeless of subjects.

Why the heck should I learn about how the world of Hiem works? It’s freaking doomed anyway…I should really stop talking in retrospect. It’s depressing.

It was at that moment when Adela was scanning her timetable for what other subjects she would be cursed with that day when she walked head first into a wall, much to the amusement of several students around her.

If only I could master the art of making people spontaneously combust…Oh, there would be Hades to pay…

“Shut up!” she mumbled, picking up her dilapidated schoolbag, which serves as much purpose as a kettle made of ice in a volcano.

“There’s really no point anymore.” Someone said darkly.

Adela looked up at the elv who had spoken, her face’s expression similar to that of a cat that had lapped up vinegar.

“And just who are you?”

“My name will mean nothing to me once the world collapses.” He replied calmly, smiling warmly. “But I believe some call me Aurion Mistytongue.”

He certainly suited the name anyway. His hair was an electric blue and rather fluffy, and somehow had a hoity-toityness about it that seemed to find the fact that it needed a serious combing vulgar or unpleasant. He wore a white and blue hooded jumper, which was decorated with mad white blocks and lines, and the words, ‘Exist To Live’ were scrawled in the centre of it. His eyes were an odd sort of aquamarine that strangely reminded me of the Kawaii sea in my dream in History. In short, he looked exactly like what some crazy wanderer walking along a foggy coast with his unwashed dog would look like, if there is indeed such a person in the world.

“Oh, right. Nice meeting you. Bye.” Adela answered, preparing to march off.

“I would appreciate it if you stopped to listen to what I have to say, Adela.”

How the heck did he know my name?

“How the heck do you know my name?” Adela demanded.

“It says Adela Leafshanks on your school timetable.” Aurion pointed out, still wearing the same amiable grin.

“Fair enough then. What is it you want to say, mister?”

Aurion took a deep breath, and began.

“The Universe will implode upon itself shortly. The world of Hiem shall die in the due course of Time, and only those who know the Secrets and hold the Key to the Door of Space shall live. He or she who has possession of these things will be the one to save their race, but the Other Kind will perish in the Doomed Dimension, and never be heard from again. But these items cannot be obtained without much bloodshed and hardship, and the pitfalls one will crash into cannot be fortold because It can manipulate the course of Time and Space, and only It knows where the Key is or what the Secrets are. There’s really no point anymore, because this is the Doomed Dimension.”

Adela blinked at him.

“What?!?”

“The end is nigh, because we are the Doomed Dimension. I can feel it.”

“Excuse me, Mister Misty-person, are you high or something?”

“No.”

“Well you certainly sound like it. Adieu.” Adela replied, and began marching away from this crazed loony nut-job.

“In ten millennia from now, the battle to open the Door of Space and the search for It shall begin. Do not deny the existence of the Other Kind, for they are far greater than us. Adela.”

“Whatever, yeah, possibly, maybe, perhaps.” She called back, promptly ignoring him.

Of course, at the time, it all sounded positively bananas. And believe me, I had heard sillier things. Like the possibility of an iguana living in the Science labs which was going to eat our brains one day. I’m talking in retrospect again! Gaah!

Geography passed, and the school day had finally ended, much to Adela’s delight.

It would be of much interest to the reader as to where Adela is currently standing. If I were to tell you that ten thousand years from then the space where she is located would be the position of a Harmon-Clopsic Logoship owned by the Grand Professor of Jikerix Univeristy, you would probably slap me with a wet sturgeon and brand me nuttier than a jar of almonds and Aurion Mistytongue combined.

If I were to tell you that in Adela’s time that same location is where Aurion’s house is, you would bring me to the people who wear white coats.

But it is of much irony that when Adela slipped and fell onto the pavement outside aforementioned house on that day while stroking a certain fluffy animal, the resulting loophole in the fabric of the space time continuum and the tear in the expanse of Logic and Things That Make Sense plunged her into a rift ten thousand years forward along with the contents of Aurion’s house and a rather bemused cat, whom we shall meet later.

I remember feeling on that day when it all started, that I seriously needed to throw a brick at something, and I wanted Logic to be the first to go.