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Chapter 2: The First Being takes a trip (and gets a name)

It’s quite tiring to refer to him as ‘the First Being’ all the time.

Here‘s the first part.


The First Being sat on the bed in the middle of his room, bare legs dangling and swinging over the edge and two inches above the cool white stone floor. The ageless boy hummed tunelessly, while his hands tried to cover the wide grin on his face, while his diminutive friend watched nearby, hovering five feet off the ground, arms crossed.“Yes, my crafter, I can see that you are very happy about tomorrow’s trip down to earth.” The First Being did not reply, though a few chuckles were heard from beneath his palms.Above the hustle and bustle of Quasar was Meta, the Silent Moon, the uncontested abode of the First Being. Shortly after he departed from mainland Quasar and arrived on the Big White Sphere in the Sky, he crafted himself a simple home beneath the moon’s surface. His palace had no doors or windows, since the moon itself produced a faint white light by itself.The clock on one side of his wall, a downscaled replica of the First Clock, spun lazily on the other corner of the room, the two interlocking metal discs chiming faintly as they knock into each other once every ten seconds. The dials on the clock marked the amount of time that has passed ever since time started. Currently, it marked 189 years, 37 days, 23 hours and 312 tecs, or ten-seconds. Midnight was approaching.

“Alright, time for us to rest now. Look at the time already,” the friend said as he fluttered towards the First Being. “We have a long journey ahead tomorrow.”

Midnight came and went, and there was dawn. The room walls glowed gently as Meta’s outer surface absorbed sunlight. The First Being turned and stretched on his bed, his head still buried among a hill of putty pillows. On a normal day he wakes up at midday, but today was a very special day. His friend was already up, buzzing busily around the room making preparations.

“Oh wait, we don’t actually have anything to bring along. Good morning, my crafter.”

The First Being’s wings stirred a bit, then in another moment spread to full width. He leaped up from his bed, and another leap he landed on the floor. The clock chimed loudly.

“Is it time to move out yet?” The boy asked anxiously while running towards a full-length mirror not far from the bed. His clothes were the ones he made for himself on that day he finished crafting the world – a long sleeveless robe that covered up to his ankles.

“What should I wear today?” He asked loudly.

“Honestly, my crafter, you already look good in this. But if you really insist on changing, let me just relay some designs from the world below to you.”

After several changes, the First Being finally settled on battler clothing in white with different shades of grey. “What do you think?” He asked his friend as he crafted himself a silver headband.

“I don’t know, I’ve seen battlers dress up in all colors except white. But you look very smart in it,” said the friend as he circled him. “I wonder why white is such an unpopular color though, that’s something I couldn’t figure out.”

The trip down to Quasar was uneventful, though they incited some commotion as they landed on the outskirts of Pamira City. Several pedestrians were slightly shocked to see a winged boy in dressed in white landing on the streets.

“Pamira,” exclaimed the First Being as he looked up at the domed city in front of him, awestruck, “Looks so different from the ground, isn’t it.” His friend nodded, equally stunned by the sheer scale of it. From Meta, the city was but a yellow-and-grey snowglobe.

The biggest and busiest city on Quasar, Pamira City was an architectural oddity by itself. One half of the city was built on concentric circular Echelons, or platforms, tapering to a minimum of a two-hundred-foot radius at the top Echelon. The other half of the city was built suspended in a large pit, symmetrical to the upper half except decreasing in radius as it gets deeper. Not only that, it was as though the normal laws of gravity do not apply here; buildings were built on both sides of anEchelon. Covering the entire city was a massive dome of a tough, spongy membrane to regulate the weather and temperature within.

“Well, let’s go in then,” the First Being said, brushing off a thin film of sweat from the back of his neck, “It’s sure warm out here.”

“Why yes, we’re in the tropics now. You know, the cold quadrants don’t reach this place,” his friend quoted from his compiled data.

For a grand city like this, the gates to Pamira are sure unceremoniously dull, thought the First Being as he stood in queue to the identification check station. Though all that required was a mindprint scan, the pedestrian line stretched a quarter mile long, each one sluggishly trudging under the sweltering mid-morning sun. The First Being took off his right glove and wiped his forehead. He tried to start a conversation with a lady that stood behind him a while ago; apparently no one was interested in talking.

“Looks like you need a change of clothes once you get in, it’ll still be another good half-hour before we reach the ID station.” the friend fluttered around impatiently. On the road beside them chains of wrollers whizzed past. Wrollers – bulb-shaped automobiles – travel on mostly gravity with a little help from solar-powered cells on slightly deep tracks. Pamira was a wroller driver’s dream – the roads were fashioned such that no matter how one moves in a wroller, he will always go downhill.

The air grew warmer as the tecs ticked by, and finally it was almost the First Being’s turn. He could clearly see the relief in the people who went inside in front of him, that the regulated climate of Pamira City was a most rewarding thought after an hour standing in queue.

“It just occurred to me that I forgot to tell you something.” The First Being’s friend said while scratching his chin.

“Huh?”

“You need a valid identity to go in, else you’ll have to register one manually over there. For that, you need a name. And I need one too.”

“Can’t we just tell them that we have no names?”

“They won’t take that as an answer.’ Before the friend could finish talking the mindprint scanner beeped. A tall woman, wearing a skintight dark blue uniform with a loose coat over it walked to them.

“Good morning, boys, my name is Byati. It seems like we don’t have your ID data. Please follow me, this way,” the tall woman smiled hospitably.

“Uh wait… we have names!” The First Being added anxiously as the three of them walked away from the line to a small booth nearby.

“Of course, sweety, everyone does,” Byati chuckled, “You just need to give me that and some other details, and you’re free to go in.”

The registration booth was less than six feet wide and across, but the air was cool and the couches arranged along the walls looked soft and comfortable. The First Being and his friend both gave a sigh of relief in unison as they stepped into the booth. Byati instructed them to sit, while she remained standing. A translucent screen materialized in her left palm.

“Let’s start with you first,” said Byati, pointing to the First Being, “Please tell me your name, age, city of origin and purpose of visit.”

“We’re here to battle!” exclaimed the First Being as he jumped up from the couch. Byati laughed, and scribbled something on the screen with her right index finger.

“OK, so that’s one question down. I still need your name.”

“Um… I’m…. uh…”

“Arkylezious. Or Ark for short. His name is too long that he forgets it once in a while. Heh, heheh. We came all the way from Cuelo. Yeah.”

“Um… that’s it, I think, heheh. Say, er, Mico, how do you spell my name again?” The First Being was quick to catch on his friend’s act.

“No problem, I think I got it. We had two Arkyleziouses last week,” said Byati as she continued scribbling on the palm-screen, “I always thought you people have issues with getting attention.”

“Uh well, I thought it sounded cool. Heheh.”

“Precisely. Age?”

“One hu-”

“Thirteen.” ‘Mico’ interrupted.

“You’re pretty short for a thirteen year old, isn’t it.” Byati said as she switched off the screen with a light sweep using her right palm. She walked towards the boy who will be further known as Ark. Lifting up her left thumb, she pressed it gently on Ark’s forehead. The boy felt a sudden jolt of warmth coming from it.

“And there’s your identity mindprint. Welcome to Pamira.”


The Quasr Story (can also be read from the game site):

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April 3, 2007 - Posted by | Encephalon, Quasr, Quasr Concept, Quasr Story, Quasr World Design

4 Comments »

  1. cool, Byati huh. The first name that I know from this story.

    Can’t wait to know how the story cont…

    Comment by Jarod | April 3, 2007 | Reply

  2. Me too.

    Comment by Slade | April 6, 2007 | Reply

  3. Woohoo finally he is there. I’ll just call him Ark… heh… bad memory for long names.

    Mico~ Mico~ Mico~

    I’ll be frustrated with such a long queue… I can feel the sun hitting at me. Pamira… ouch!

    Comment by Iris | April 11, 2007 | Reply

  4. […] Chapter 2: The First Being takes a trip […]

    Pingback by Chapter 1: The World came to be « Hatchlings Games | June 10, 2007 | Reply


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