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Arturur's Destiny (Novel) (IN PROGRESS)

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Arturur's Destiny (Novel) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Sun May 14, 2017 6:37 pm

Arturur's Destiny


The following short stories take place on a planet much like Earth. They occur during an era with both Victorian and modern elements. All characters are daemons: Humanoid people with pointy ears, fangs, claws, and commonly spiky hair. All of the stories tie together to form one single, interconnecting story.

Part of the Doctor Arturur series. Arturur's Destiny is the prequel to the original series.



(IN PROGRESS)


Pronunciations

Daemon (DAY-MUHN)
Arturur (AR-CHUR-ER)
Yagrius (YAY-GREE-UHS)
Asterterkin (AHS-TER-TER-KIN)
Alysius (UH-LEE-SEE-UHS)
Sasawich (SAW-SUH-WICH)
Osgulliov (AWS-GUHL-LEE-UHV)
Rayon (RAY-AWN)
Ishimi (UH-SHEE-MEE)


Next in the Series

The Coming of Arturur


Complete List of Books in the Doctor Arturur Series

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Thu Jul 13, 2017 7:04 pm

The Prologue
Imagine a world of silence. Pretend that you are someone else, that between you and all other people is a wall of unspoken words. These people have no idea that they have been saying something extremely important that is getting lost behind this wall. It's their lives, their guarded secrets, their special memories. Open for anyone to see if they could just think like the young Prince of Warren and Alastair, Arturur.

Arturur is a mischievous white pixie, and, in comparison to other daemons, he is just a kid. Physically an adult, Arturur is only in his late twenties, which is nothing when many, many daemons are thousands of years old. He is a doctor, a school teacher, and a priest. He is also a soldier. To Warren, he is the first and only multifaceted Prince.

However, he is a headmaster, and headmasters can lose their minds to a special illness that affects only this group of superior teachers. So he has been hidden away from his own people, and sent to live in the little fishing village of Wendell. In this place, Arturur has lived his whole life being cared for by Jamal, King of the Peasants, and his land of colourful people. Yet Arturur has finally come of age, and now must return to the place of his birth... the ruling nation of Warren.

But he is still very ill and, in his constant everyday life, Arturur thinks in the very lowest of fundamentals and therefore his mind is separated from all other people. He comes to Warren with what is both a gift and a curse. He can hear and understand people's most hidden thoughts, the words lost on the owner as well as everyone else. It is psychology, and it is deeply embedded where others can not analyse. But Arturur can analyse these realities, and that is part of what makes him so special. However, the young Prince has great difficulty pulling apart the most normal of conversations, a consequence from being able to think so fundamentally. This leaves him unable to understand even the most basic of things.

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Mon Jul 17, 2017 6:41 pm

Clear, Rippling Waters


Arturur never felt completely happy. There was always something getting in the way. Wendell used to simply do whatever he said. But as time marched on and he grew older, they began to see something inside of him that just wasn't right. Or at least, that was what they believed.

Alastair was a world within a world. All kinds of vastly different cultures were spread over the land. People wearing different clothes, speaking different languages, protecting different beliefs... And somewhere deep inside this world was a village called Wendell.

In it lived the King of the Peasants, his wife, and children. And encircling them were highly ranked families that had immense power over the government. After that they were surrounded by all sorts of different wealthy families, who also possessed a lot of power. Some of these people were soldiers, some of them wise men, others expert fishermen—A group of people that were very valuable to that particular culture—and even still more walks of life. There was a careful balance to the order of the world, and Wendell was no exception. However, Arturur would beg to differ.

He always felt very alone all lost inside his own head. And in that mind of his there were many attempts by others to control what was abnormal. But it didn't really matter, not in the end. There was little conscious thought that actually broke the more serious rules, and it was done in such moderation that even that didn't really matter either.

Arturur had mourned his father and mother all of his life. It was like they were dead. He had never met them, and everything that made a Prince a Prince had been stolen away by the fear of the Headmaster's Illness. He had spent all of his days under the care of Jamal, King of the Peasants, and his very overprotective family. In fact, everyone was overprotective of him in every rank. He was, afterall, royalty. And then... he was a very special man. A very weak man. Despite all of Arturur's determination to make things better, he did not have the strength to push and he did not have the strength to take care of anyone, including himself. But that just made him all the more charismatic.

Wendell had so much power. They controlled all of the peasants. But there were even more powerful people in Alastair. Warren, of course, the home of "Kings and Queens", the highly ranking moderators, and the very, very wealthy business owners. Then there was the wisest of all wise men... the Great Order, who no one wished to defy, including Warren, despite its own towering status over all. After Wendell, there were the manor houses that were scattered all over the land. The people that lived in them were tasked by their superiors to watch over the peasant villages.

And all of this, all of Alastair... was one day destined to be handed down from father to son, and Arturur would then rule it all. It made the young daemon nervous. How could he ever rise to such expectations? That question bothered him time and time again. How could he ever be as good of a King as his father? And then... the idea of being a father himself, the idea of having his own children that he would have to raise to be Kings and Queens of their own... It was enough to make him feel so very, very small.

It would be a challenge. Life was already a challenge. The whole thing just baffled him.

Soon Arturur would be sent home. He would meet his family, the other nobles, the other residents of Warren. He didn't know how he could cope with such an overwhelming thing. All he wanted to do was run far away, so far that no one would be able to find him. Perhaps he could disappear in the shadows? But, of course, such aggressive men would never allow that to happen. He would be stuck with his own kind. People that could control him. It was terrifying.

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Tue Jul 18, 2017 6:23 pm

The Last Man to Stand, Stands Alone


The young Prince was a very tall man. Daemon didn't get any taller than him. He had white, spiky hair, with pale blue eyes and a mischievous smile. Long, pointy ears twitched in excitement, his arms crossed over his chest with a confidence bordering on arrogance. He wore a long, white coat—The staple of the white pixie race. He was a doctor of psychology.

Arturur stood on the top of a very high hill overlooking the outskirts of Wendell. Flowers were rich all over the area, above and below. The grass reached up his legs, and the sky had a warm, fulfilling colour to it. He watched the fishermen coming into the village from the lake to the west. They carried long, wooden poles with fresh fish dangling off of hooks. A few young apprentices raced to catch up with the older men, having become distracted with some thing or another. They didn't help carry the fish, as it was forbidden for anyone other than a full fisherman to even so much as touch the poles.

The white pixie hated fishing. He knew how, he was a full blown fisherman... but he didn't like it. Jamal was always trying to get him out of fishing duties. It was not because Arturur lacked affection for the profession. It was because Jamal couldn't stand hearing Arturur's incessant complaining. However, a multifaceted Prince needed a lot of variety when it came to his education, and fishing was a very important tool to some of the wisest men in Alastair. In other words, Jamal had no choice but to suffer Arturur's absolute refusal to enjoy such a thing.

The young man did love to get his hands dirty, as long as it didn't involve countless hours lost to sitting by the lake. He would farm. He would hike. He would camp. He would play sports. He would even manually build houses and sheds and playground equipment when really the only objects needed for creating large structures was a pen, a scanner, and a computer. However, many people found a lot of fun in bundles of wood, and the white pixie was one of them. Pretty much anything was fine as long as he didn't have to craft a hook.

But in the end, he was a psychologist, and that was what he was most of the time. And a school teacher and a priest, of course. And a soldier. The last occupation being something that his father would definitely not understand. Arturur had been told that specifically by Alysius, a blue-haired trouble maker that knew his father personally. Yet, for all it was worth, Arturur had trouble trusting the Guardian.

A Guardian was a daemon that lived on the Edge, and had grown very old. In their superior age, they watched over the younger generations, but were, however, still too young to join the Old Ones. The Old Ones were the masters of all. There was no such thing as truly defying them. In their great, infinite wisdom, such daemons merely had to wrap a young man with carefully chosen words and overwhelm him with a manipulative understanding of psychology. Yet that did not mean that clever men like Arturur could not do something out of the ordinary. Once you got that old, you understood that young people must be allowed to make mistakes, otherwise they would never genuinely learn their lessons.

After everything was considered, Arturur still believed that he knew things that were even beyond those who lived on the Edge, as well as the great Old Ones themselves. It earned him a lot of mockery and sadness. People desperately wanted him to simply submit. He was the most normal man in the world, and his adopted village felt like it got to him. Not in an arrogant sort of way, but like a puzzle that only one man could solve.

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Thu Aug 10, 2017 6:34 pm

A Song Waiting to Be Heard


The white pixie was overwhelmed. Arturur was by the lake and it was already dark. The stars sparkled over the waters, giving them an eerie glow. Trees towered overhead. Lots of them. Tons of them. Dark blue leaves that had once been a beautiful green colour in the sun. The moon had made them foreboding and creepy. The power of the spot, however, was lost on the Prince. He was ignoring everything outside of his own head, that classic way of thinking that made people sigh. That classic... Arturur way of thinking. Deep and quiet and calm and rational. Logical, simple, complicated, and strung through ideas like a fairy tale with a bad ending. How could one ever reason with a man so perfect and intelligent? A savant.

Arturur had never understood why everyone in Alastair was so separated. He had been told time and time again, that history had proven that very different cultures could not coexist in infancy. Such worlds had to rise from the earth and hold their places not only for centuries, but for thousands of years. So there it was. A place called Alastair that ruled every single last leaf on the ground. Every person that could talk or think was apart of it. And they were all daemons. Anything without the ability to tell a joke was an animal or a plant or a fish. Things that they ate. Things with no mind.

He was so nervous. It was coming. It was coming. That day was near. He pushed it out of his mind, forcing it into some dark little place where it could rest quietly. He had to survive. That was all that was important to him. He needed to keep the solace as much as possible. Part of him would fade away in the upcoming battle of emotions, but there was nothing that he could do about that, and for that very reason he didn't care. If there was something that he could not prevent or fix, what did it matter? Such an obstacle was just called Life.

His eyes watched the water, looking for fish. In the past, sometimes, he had seen them jump up and it would cause a pleasant splashing sound. Arturur wondered if he would be lucky enough tonight to witness the great leap of a fish, that great leap into the space outside water that was all fire and air. It was like a snapshot of an oil painting, glistening with wet paint and that same wetness causing the image to gleam in the blackness of a closed room and by the flame of a candle. It was a beautiful memory in his private thoughts.

How would he ever pass the test? That terrible test that he felt every noble would hold against him. Raised by peasants... raised by a palace with no certification and a King with no certification either. Everything about Wendell... hated and despised by all members of Warren, most especially by the nobility. Fools. That was what the nobles thought. They thought them all fools, the nobility in their long, flowing robes and their majestically woven designs. Each man and woman a perfect image. The envy of all, that amazing powerful spear of piercing beauty and tragic ability. Oh, if only the so called peasants could enjoy it just for one day... and maybe a half more. The laws they would pass. The strength they would build. That was what they envied. Not the soft life of a noble, but the power... the power to change the world and make it better. Truly better.

Warren's precious Prince. They could not understand the Old Ones when they took away their children, nevermind their most cherished ones. Oh, everyone loved everyone and even the rich loved the poor and the poor loved the rich. This was a utopia, as far as one could be built. Young age always weighed it down, but very old men and women were behind this smoothly functioning society. However, no matter, the people of Warren not only couldn't understand, but didn't want to understand. For something that could get in the way of their guarded emotions, no, that could never be. They could never submit to that. Or at least... that was what they thought. But would it change their minds when they met Arturur in person and saw the disaster that he was? Would they then believe that the Old Ones were in the right when they made the order to rip the child out of his own mother's arms. Would they then forgive them for all the miserable tears and the broken heart of their Queen?

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Fri Aug 11, 2017 8:45 pm

The Illusion of Power


What was a soldier? Why were they needed? In Alastair, there was no such thing as killing. Soldiers were not used as pawns in life or death situations. They were militaristic thinking men who kept things safe and orderly. Who prevented escalations in both behaviour and rationality. They were the men who diffused anything that could lead to trouble.

So why was a Prince a soldier? In the art of psychological warfare, he was educated, he was trained, he was forced along the path of perfection. He was naturally talented and had a very logical mind that always formed careful decisions. Even with the most delicate of problems, Arturur had been prepared for any potential threat. It was his calling to defend.

The most powerful military, of course, was based in Warren. Their soldiers had been crafted since birth into quick thinking, highly knowledgeable tools of creation and destruction. They were always ready for a fight. But just what constituted a fight in Alastair? The concept was defined as psychological control. Not blood, not wounds, not brutality... But a war of words and diplomacy. For example, soldiers were frequently participants in courts. They did indeed defend people. There was a measurement of thought control that was definitely required for keeping a peaceful society, and this was done in many great ways by the military.

Arturur felt like nothing was certain other than uncertainty itself. He did not want to meet other soldiers. This was not something that he looked forward to. In his imagination, he coloured beautiful pictures of Warren's military as a tradition worth having, but, at the same time, he would have to go up against these same people. The young pixie was already controversial in Wendell. God only knew what it would be like in militant Warren. His original family, the land of his birth, the people that were nobly lead by his father... There was this constant reminder that Arturur no longer had time to comfort himself. Each passing moment was a little and a little closer to, what he felt, was essentially the end of his life.

Sitting on his bed, tears rolling down his cheeks... was the Prince. Beaten. Defeated. Over with. He had no hope for himself. All he could see was the brainwashing. All he could see was his mind being reshaped into the perfect nobleman. Some of the most important things to him were his thoughts themselves. Things that, no doubt, Warren was eager to take away from him, even if they had to use force. He may not have been unstable or crazy or mentally ill, but he was different. That was not something he wanted restructured.

He was happy about one thing, however. He would finally get to see Eugene against a foe that he could not overwhelm. Isaiah too. And Alexander. He would also finally get to see Craig come down to reality. These were all good things, of course. These people really did have problems. Arturur had always been reassured that everything he couldn't stand about the people who lived with him in Wendell would all be destroyed. With gentle love, but still destroyed. A kind of absolute power that he actually wanted to see used.

It was too bad that Guardians didn't get restructured. He was definitely sick of Alysius. Regardless of what that man thought of himself, Arturur knew that even he would have a day of reckoning. And that thought made him smile.

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Fri Sep 01, 2017 2:35 pm

The Encroaching Darkness


"You can't run away from this." Said a voice behind Arturur. The white pixie quickly turned around only to be faced by Eugene.

Eugene was tall, with long brown hair that almost reached his shoulders, and he wore white clothes. He was also a soldier, but not one that Arturur respected at the moment. The other man was intent on controlling the future, on getting Arturur overridden. The white pixie felt nothing but fury for him.

"You are not going to win." The Prince responded, in a serious voice, his expression flat.

"You can't keep going on like this forever." Eugene declared, confident of his opinions. "Eventually, even you are going to fall. I'm sorry, Arturur. I really am."

"Don't tell me you're sorry!" Snapped the white pixie, angered by his statement. "This is not child's play! You are playing with people's lives!"

Eugene was silent for a moment. "You never have fully trusted me."

Arturur scoffed in derision. "That shouldn't surprise you. You have always been reckless. And right now... Well, this is the worst thing you've done yet. That you've ever done. How can you stand there and criticize me when you are defying the Old Ones?!"

"I am not defying them at all." Claimed Eugene, sure of himself. "I am following their path. You are to be controlled, not to be the only one that has a say in how things are done. There are different roads, Arturur... roads that you have always been too cowardly to take."

"I am not a coward!" Exclaimed Arturur, deeply offended.

"What do you want to call it then?" Questioned Eugene, harshly. "Fear? Because whatever name I use, it's all going to be the same. You are afraid. You are afraid to do things differently. You push and push and push, and you think that's all you have to do. But you're slowing down very important processes now, processes that need to develop before any more bad happens."

"You're crazy, Eugene!" Shouted Arturur, enraged. "You're crazy!"

"I am not the slightest bit irrational and you well know that." He countered, his emotions mostly in check. "I have dreams too. I have plans. I have psychology. And I have insight... into your psychological field whether you understand it or not."

"Stay out of my field!" Demanded the pixie, desperately. "You do not know what you are doing! You are going to break everyone's mind!"

"You are overly cautious and it's doing no good." Replied Eugene, crossing his arms over his chest. "I hate to say this... but soon you will have no power left. And you won't get it back until you submit to the new order. We can not live this way any longer, and, as long as you fight it, you will not have a voice in any of our decisions."

"I am the Prince!" Exclaimed Arturur, passionately. "I am the one who makes the orders around here! You will not infiltrate Warren. You will not seize power from my father. You will not—"

"I have no intentions of seizing power from your father." Clarified Eugene, smoothly. "Your father will choose to implement my plans. He will not take your foolish stance, no matter what you say to him."

"You really think that Warren is going to bow down to you, after all the years you've lived in Wendell?" Laughed Arturur, sardonically. "Why do you think you're here? What? Is this some kind of vacation in your mind? You're here because you would have never listened to them no matter what they could have said. You're not here because you're smart or clever or witty. You're here because you're a fucking idiot."

Eugene was unfazed. "I know that I have problems. This has nothing to do with them. I'm not crazy like Asterterkin and Davin. I'm not a foolish power pusher like Amos. I'm not completely shut off from the world like Craig... When are you going to admit that I have special talents? When are you going to give me a chance to rise to power?"

"It's not my problem." Insisted Arturur. "It's yours... I have given you all the chances you deserve and more. I have given you every opportunity to do your job correctly. You are the one that always fucks everything up. You are the one who always takes everything into your own hands. And you are the one that constantly defies the entire hierarchy."

Eugene frowned, his facade finally cracking. He was quiet, then, "I am right about this... I am most definitely right... You're not a bad guy, Arturur. You don't have it in you. You don't have it in you at all. I do... I do. But you don't. And that's why this makes everything so much more unpleasant. I'm going up against a good guy that does everything in his power to make people happy, and I don't feel good about it. I don't like it, Arturur. I don't want to do this to you. But it's only for your own good. You need my help. You need me to take control. I know that you don't have what it takes to make these kinds of devastating decisions. So that's why I'm doing it for you."

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Sat Sep 16, 2017 4:08 pm

The Final Countdown


Arturur had been trained to be many different things. He was built for business, for success, for a glorious future. He was built to be King one day. One day... in the distant future. His father would rule for three-hundred years, and by that time, the white pixie wouldn't have problems any more. It was a long way off and there was no point in looking forward to it. It was just reality.

A reality that Arturur would eventually become, a reality that he would be shaped for.

Eugene, Isaiah, and Alexander were going to get their way if the young Prince did not fight back and fight back now. If the pixie didn't hit them with his most powerful psychology, the world would turn to ruin, and once everyone realized that Arturur had been right, it would be too late. So the white pixie was on the move, using all of his skills as a soldier, a headmaster, a wexler, and a jedediah. It would take gruelling effort. It would nearly break Arturur in two. But it had to be done!

The determined pixie was standing in the main computer control room in the makeshift psychology headquarters. He had locked himself inside. No one could get to him. All around him was nothing but electronics. He stepped up to the Alpha Computer, his blue eyes softly moving to the control board. He began to move the mouse, to type, and to lose himself in his mission.

He kept telling himself... once he finally had kids, this was not the world that he wanted them to grow up in. He wanted them to feel safe... to feel secure. He wanted them to always trust that Daddy could take care of them. He wanted to tell them this story one day, of when he stood in front of God, and said "No". He wanted them to not be afraid of living.

"Eugene is too petrified of the colour yellow to completely command the Root Computer." Said Arturur to himself, trying to be wise in the face of fire. "He's not as good at abstracts as Craig, and he's not anything compared to me when it comes to literals. He never understands that when I say 'Yellow', I mean 'Yellow'. To him, it's always seemed ridiculous, unlike everyone else in Wendell that understands the total devastation of my power. For these tender strings of programming to be wrapped around any hand other than my own, is the single greatest mistake that anyone could make, besides that day... that dark day long ago... when they assumed that I would be overcome with the Headmaster's Illness... when that is and has always been impossible.

"I chose to stay here. I could have proven it to them at any time. Yes, it would have been difficult, but that wall could have easily been broken by the force of my will. And then they would have just sent me home... Home... Home.

"This is my language!" Exclaimed Arturur, almost shouting. "These are my words!

"Yellow! Yellow clock!

"These foolish children do not understand the old man that lives within me! They do not understand the power of patience! They do not have the wisdom of endless time chiselling into the rock that we all walk upon!

"Father...! I will not disappoint you...! I know that all you see is a weak, fragile man, but I will be like you someday! It will take a long journey... but I will make it! You will think that I will fail, that I am breakable... but I will show you the shadow of your future successor!"

The Prince then proceeded to fall into a heavy silence. He had little time to act. He must do something before Eugene could take over.

The Main Association Program turned on, and Arturur began to rewrite the Fundamental Connections Unit. It was connected to his personal computer, and all the years he had worked so hard to improve Alastair was being threatened by a war obsessed idiot. His language... his language of objects and colours and textures and variables... it was all being misunderstood and misused by Arturur's most frightening opponent. Eugene.

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Sat Sep 16, 2017 6:17 pm

The Beginning of the Onslaught


"What are you doing, Arturur?" Demanded Eugene, who stood in front of the young Prince.

"I am protecting myself. And all of Alastair." Asserted Arturur, ready for battle.

Two aggressive figures, clothed in white, staring each other down.

"I am not trying to harm you, but if you continue in this manner..." Warned Eugene, anger building in his voice. "I will have no choice but to stop you."

"And how in the hell are you going to do that?" The pixie felt intimidated, however, he also felt firm and confident.

"You know..." Started the other soldier. "even if I told you to your face what I have planned, no one would take me seriously. They would think that I was just losing my temper. But I know something about you... Prince... and that is that you see through any guise."

"What are you talking about?" Arturur all of a sudden didn't feel so good any more. The darkness was beginning to absorb all of his strength.

That was a bad sign, what Eugene had just said. A very ominous sign.

"I am talking about you..." Eugene crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't have the ability to stand up to me, if I were really to play unfair. But no one would ever guess that I could do such a thing, that anyone could do such a thing. But it's only for your own good. Your own good.

"I would never truly harm you... if I could avoid it." The dark soldier paused, then proceeded in his threats. "You see... I want to help you. However, I also realize that you have the psychological prowess to totally outdo me. And if you challenge me, which I really know this is going to happen, be warned that I have already made all of my plans. All of my plans for dealing with you... no matter what that means... and what I have to do."

"I don't understand..." Yet Arturur really did understand... he just didn't want to.

"You're the Lord of Fundamentals." Said Eugene, with absolute belief in himself. "There's no way that you don't understand... You are the best there is at detecting unusual behavioural patterns in extreme situations. You are the best there is at doctoring people who have lost all hope. Only the Old Ones outperform you... Still..." Eugene smiled, wickedly. "I know... because they told me. I know because I've learned it over and over again as a child... The Old Ones could never predict... what I am about to do to you."

And, like dancing in a fire... Arturur understood perfectly what would happen to him if he lost.

"You can't mean that..." It was far more than just difficult to accept his fate. "You're crazy, Eugene... Stop. Stop while you still can." He held out an outstretched hand, his palm facing forward. "Don't do this to me. Don't make me hurt you."

"I can't, Arturur." Announced the black-hearted nobleman. "You're going to hurt yourself. I just want to stop that from happening. I just want to ensure that you're truly safe... What kind of person would I be if I didn't help my own kind? Especially the precious Prince of Alastair. We're both nobles. You cannot deny it. We are both brothers in spirit." And there was a short silence, and Eugene had a sad, sad look on his face. "I don't want to!" He exclaimed, truthfully, guiltily. "But you are my responsibility! You are the Prince, the Prince. Your life is so important, your duty to our people can wait. You're the one who needs all of the protection. All of the protection... I can't fail you, my Lord."

"Don't call me that." Arturur looked down at the ground, feeling almost completely defeated. "You're a noble. You're not supposed to address royalty as 'My Lord'." It wasn't necessary to say such a thing, but the pixie was simply overwhelmed, falling into the past because it was the easiest thing that his mind could do.

The past. The distant past it seemed now. A new future of terrible darkness and misery. A present that Arturur could never bear. A weight that he could never allow to be placed on his children's shoulders... the children that he would have someday with a beautiful, soft, sweet woman.

A woman who could kick Eugene's ass.

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Sun Sep 17, 2017 5:25 pm

The Unseen


The world of Alastair was covered in computers. In fact, everything was connected to them, except for animals and people. All land, all buildings, all objects... could "see" like a camera, and that served as a way to monitor everyone. Therefore, no matter what, the population would be safe and secure.

Even the grass, each blade of grass... things of any shape or size or colour or matter... seamlessly one with the Root Computer. But everything was real. It was real grass, it was real dirt, it was real water. It was just apart of one greater structure, created by the Gods. A world very much like a machine, yet still genuine. When daemons finally died, their souls would move to a parallel dimension that looked no different than the world of flesh and blood. And there they would be, in peace, forever.

And there was a cap on the maximum number of people as well. The Gods created perfect families, every member joined by the other in affinity. The only thing that daemons got to choose was when their families would start. The children given to them were always exactly the ones they needed. Therefore Alastair was indeed a utopia where love always flourished and kindness never ceased. There was no such thing as true evil. There was only affection and sweetness, all inhabitants of the earth bonded tightly together by the Gods. And that made them, of course, all related, brothers and sisters of the mothers and fathers that always looked over them and ensured their happiness.

All children of the Gods.

One day, there would no longer be any births. The Last Generation would be the final chapter in the history of daemon kind. And that would mark the end of the Kingdom's creation. All that could happen then was for the last people to live their lives—Their very, very long lives—and finally one day they would be welcomed into a heaven where all people were reunited with their family and friends.

Of course, animals had no souls. They only existed for the use of daemons as companions and sources of food. So once it was all over, animals would become a thing of the past, only serving as cartoons and toys for the duration of eternity.

Cameras everywhere. A computer full of knowledge. Everyone and everything observed. It seemed like a perfect system. How could the Old Ones ever be wrong? The Root Computer had protected everyone for countless years... How could something so terrible ever happen?

But it had... Eugene had broken the system. He had escaped detection. He was relying on looking completely innocent by sneaking around in the cracks of daemon understanding. He had created evil...

And now Arturur... The truth lost behind Eugene's mask of obedience and Arturur's mask of security... Now Arturur had no choice but to fight Eugene on his own. Entirely, entirely on his own...

No one could help him.

He was painfully aware of that.

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Mon Sep 18, 2017 5:42 pm

A Surprise in Store


The young white pixie was standing in the main computer control room again. He was at the Alpha Computer, controlling the Root Computer through it indirectly. He would much rather operate the Root Computer in person, but for now it was considered too dangerous. Everyone was preparing for the nobles to be absorbed into Warren, and psychology was too fragile to risk.

"All right..." He said to himself, preparing to get to work. "Eugene is terrified of the colour yellow."

He didn't have to make decisions. He already knew how psychology worked on this level. From here on out, it was simply a track that he would be following religiously.

Arturur needed to translate himself. He had spent most of his life saying almost nothing at all. He had relied on reading and writing to communicate with people. Now it was time to teach everyone what his deepest thoughts actually meant, far down in the hard to reach niches of his mind.

"Yellow... Yellow..." The doctor was concentrating as hard as he could. "It makes me think of... of psychological death... of hopelessness... of powerlessness... and, strangely enough, of strength."

He began to enter data into the computer. While he typed, he spoke out loud each and every word. He needed to hear his voice in order to keep calm.

"You have to be very careful when you're interacting with people like Eugene." His voice was tense and anxious. "They don't know how to control themselves. Men like Eugene know no end other than their own. It is impossible for them to come down to reality and see things for what they really are.

"But you're trusting people like Eugene. You're trusting Eugene. It's the worst decision you could ever make. Why put someone so dark, brutal, and aggressive in a position of authority? So what if his heart is ultimately pure? Why does that make a difference? A bad decision is a bad decision.

"I'm not defending Asterterkin and Davin. I'm not defending anyone. It's not like that. I am protecting everyone, including them, but I'm not defending anyone at all.

"This is going to be one of the hardest challenges of my life. But I'm going to do it. I'm going to succeed. And if you must think of this as a competition, then I'll say it like this. I'm going to win...

"It might seem like I don't know what to do, because I am using plans that I made years ago. However, that's not true. You may not listen to me now, but you will listen to me very soon.

"Long live the King."

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Tue Sep 19, 2017 4:11 pm

Pulling the Sword from the Stone


Arturur was in court. The nobles' court. Or at least it was the best thing next to the real one. He was surrounded by men from Wendell, except there was one person that wasn't there that should have been. And that was Jamal.

Jamal's heart could not take it. People had warned him not to go. Jamal was fragile in this way, he knew, but he had stilled longed to be there. To protect Arturur. To confront Eugene. Alas, this was not possible. Jamal's psychology could not withstand it, and there was no point in crushing himself just to attend an event that was being televised anyway.

But he should have been there. He wasn't there. But he should have been there.

Arturur understood.

It was a large, circular room. In the middle was a beautiful round floor painting, symbolizing all the different elemental powers of the nobility. It had been painted by the noble children, so that it was their best guess at what life in Warren was really like. Arturur and Eugene stood upon this floor. Great numbers of men sat all around them, watching the terror that was about to unfold.

Then Eugene did something stupid... He bowed. Arturur gave him a spiteful look.

The bastard talked first. "I am really very sorry that this has to be done." Announced Eugene, in a grim, serious way.

"Get on with it." Growled Arturur, angrily.

"Then so be it." Said Eugene, his eyes intensely focused on Arturur's. "We shall begin."

Everything was silent. And then... Arturur's voice filled the emptiness.

"Let's start with Asterterkin." Said the Prince, his expression flat. "I find it very disturbing that, on top of everything else, you also want to completely shatter the notion that people with schizophrenia do not have mental decomposition as early as eight years old.

"I find that laughable. I have no idea why people are suddenly taking this seriously. You have the most bizarre ideas that I have ever heard of. Everyone used to understand this. Now all of a sudden they think you're some genius, and I find this profoundly offensive."

"You haven't spoken your entire life, and you find it 'offensive'?" Eugene tried to hide the insult he felt. "Do you not remember where you have been this entire time? We were working on helping people. You were living inside of your mind."

"Enough, Eugene." Demanded a stern voice from the audience. Eugene recollected himself.

"Like I said, I am very sorry that this has to happen. I shouldn't have said that. Not like that." Apologized the long-haired soldier. "But still... you haven't been in the same world as us. How do you come up against me and tell me that I am so wrong? I honestly don't understand your viewpoint. If you were anyone else, I might find it insane. Yet I know that you don't understand the most basic things about life. About logic. About thinking... About me.

"You know, the only reason they are allowing you to be a participant in this court today, to challenge my research, is simply because they want you to understand why you are wrong. Why things must change."

"Mute or not." Replied Arturur, trying to keep himself under control. "I did talk. I did communicate with people. And they always listened to me. Because they knew that I was right. I think about all these things all the time... Time you have never had. I have lived in my mind, that is true, but I have lived in my mind with a library... What have you done with your life?"

"There's no need to elaborate on this." Countered Eugene, anger seeping into his voice. "We're getting off topic."

"I don't really think so. But whatever." Arturur was already tired. But he had no choice. He must march onwards.

"Asterterkin is the single craziest person I know other than Davin." Resumed Eugene, tensely. "How can it not be logical to assume that this disease of his didn't start developing much sooner? You know him yourself, Arturur! Stop pretending that he hasn't raised you. You know just as well as I do how completely fucking off his rocker he is." His eyes burned into Arturur's with an intense, passionate fury.

"It doesn't matter how crazy he is." Arturur was almost bored. "Psychology is psychology. You can't undo it. You can't erase it. You can't pretend that the roots aren't there.

"What you are saying is mad. And if you weren't so damn stupid, I'd think you really were mad."

Listening to his words, Eugene could not control his anger any more, and his hands started to shake in rage. "You are always living in the past..." He whispered. Then he raised his voice. "You can't do everything by the book. You have to learn how to think outside of the box. It's not a talent that you're going to suddenly, magically have. I've already been down this road a thousand times.

"Asterterkin showed genuine development of schizophrenia starting at eight years old." Eugene claimed, taking a firm stand on his opinion. "You can clearly see it in my research. I've watched more than enough videos, I've listened to more than enough audio recordings... I've grown up around him. I've lived with him when I was a child and an adult. I've had all the experiences that I need... And ultimately, I have studied his condition for many, many years. In depth, careful, professional studies."

"And yet you are still jumping to conclusions." Challenged Arturur, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. "You do not have enough understanding of this area of psychology. You know that. I know that. Everyone knows that. They're not listening to you because they think you've transformed into a great, unrivalled mind. They are listening to you because they cannot understand how anyone can be this ferocious. You treat psychology like a drug. It's a race to you. It's your heartbeat...

"And for me... I don't really know, but... I think when it all comes down to it... I just have nothing else to do."

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Re: Arturur's Destiny (Short Stories) (IN PROGRESS)

Post by RabidFox » Wed Sep 20, 2017 3:25 pm

The Hardest Things Are The Easiest To Do


"The man has already lost his fucking mind." Emphasised Arturur, scowling. "Now you want to flip his entire world upside down? Really...? Does this not occur to you?! How can you stand there and tell me that we have to bury a man that's already been buried once?! Asterterkin cannot handle something like this. You're going to destroy all the progress we've made with him. You're going to destroy him!"

Eugene did not pretend that he was not upset. "It doesn't matter what happens to Asterterkin in the short-term. What matters is what happens to him in the long-term."

"Of course, the short-term matters!" Insisted the Prince. "The short-term is what shapes the long-term. Get out of the field, Eugene!"

"I have every right to be here that you do!" Countered the long-haired soldier. "You just keep bringing me down and bringing me down. Now I have finally found something that I'm good at! And you're just trying to take that away from me!"

"This isn't about you or your glory!" Asserted the doctor. "This is about people's lives!"

"It has everything to do with me!" But Eugene would not be deterred. "I am the one with the expertise here! These are my ideas! This is my field now!"

"It's my field!" Roared the white pixie. "This is not some game!"

Eugene became quiet, his hands on his hips and his face turned to the floor. His eyes were closed.

And then he moved his gaze upwards, Arturur perfectly in his sight. "This is only one piece of the puzzle." Declared Eugene, determinedly. "But that still doesn't mean that you're going to get this one. You're not going to ruin my plans again. You're not going to get between me and glory again. And you're right! You know you are! I do want glory! But I want glory because I am right! Not because I am some loser psychologist who can't do his job!"

"Desiring glory always leads to mixed results!" Exclaimed the pixie. "You can't have both! You can't have glory and victory! This is not the kind of work that gets you trophies. If someone's happiness is not enough for you, then you need to reassess your priorities."

"You have always been perfect." Eugene said, softly. "You have always been right... I'm almost tempted to ask you what it's like to be challenged for the first time in your life. And don't you think it's irrelevant." He shook his head.

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Arturur was confused.

The long-haired soldier said nothing. Then, "It has been decided that you don't know when to quit. That you're flailing when it comes to losing your position on this matter. That... whether you understand it or not... not for the most part, but... some part of you... can't stand it that you're not the ban hammer on this issue."

"That's ridiculous!" Arturur couldn't believe it.

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