A/N: It has come to my attention that quite a few of you readers are just seeing this and clicking away. If you could, please leave a review telling me why you want to leave as soon as you get here. I would be much obliged, and maybe I could change the story a bit to better fit your tastes.


Preface:

Several years ago, as many of you know, a great catastrophe occurred in ANWR (Arctic National Wildlife Refuge) known as "Minor Armageddon." Thankfully, it was one of the parts farthest from civilization, and so only a few families who were taking camping trips were killed. However, the way that the area was destroyed was very peculiar. It seems that a very steady portion of the land experienced an earthquake, flood, forest fire, tornado and volcanic eruption all at roughly the same time.

I became interested in the case and convinced my parents to take my brother and me there on vacation. Of course, I wanted to investigate. However, they wanted me to stay near camp and not go near the crater that was left by Minor Armageddon. Although I wanted to obey me parents, my curiosity was stronger.

However, I didn't even have to go to the crater. I had barely gotten to the charred remains of where the fire was when I tripped over something. I got up and saw that it was a stone. I was going to just keep going, but I noticed markings on it that looked man-made. I dug it out and found it to be a box. I opened it and found what I presumed to be a diary. However, even though the book was modern, I had never seen the lettering inside before.

I decided that I should take it home and see what I could find about the symbols on the Internet. I did exactly that, and found nothing at all. I came to the conclusion that it was a prank and put the diary in my closet.

A few months later, I received quite a large box in the mail. In the box, there were eight books very similar to the one I had found in Alaska along with many, many photographs of various people. I looked through the diaries and found that although four of them used the same symbols, the other four were in plain English. It turns out that the books were not diaries, but rather memoirs. There was only one entry, but that entry spanned several years. Two were dated about thirty years earlier, but the other two English ones were dated up to right before Minor Armageddon.

I read through those four and found them to be a story about the lives of a pair of two people who called themselves Des'ew. Evidentially, they had all sorts of magical powers, too. I supposed that this was a hoax, too, but I found it to be quite a good story. I was only sad that I didn't know what the other books said.

I looked through the box again, just in case I had missed something. Indeed, there was something I missed: a note with a CD attached. I read the note.

"Dear Rebecca," the note said, "It seems that you have managed to somehow find the log of a man named Ares when you recently went to Alaska. We have been looking for it since the calamity you know as Minor Armageddon. My reaction would have been to take it from you, but the leaders of our clan had other ideas. They wanted to give you a chance to keep it. They wanted to send you the testimonies of everyone on our side. All they want in return is for you to edit them, change some names, and combine them into one or two books and then publish the story. We don't need any of the money from it; we just want the world to know what we went through.

"If you do not believe us, don't. But please do this for our family. If you decide not to do so, Please send the eight books we gave you back to the address on the box along with Ares' memoir. However, if you do wish to help us, you can e-mail us at . Thank you.

"Sincerely, Draka Sahaara"

The book in your hands should be proof enough of what I chose. When I placed the CD in my computer, it turned out to be an English digital copy of all of the journals with the exception of the one I found in Alaska. However, I found that I might have gotten enough information to translate it.

I logged onto the internet and sent my reply. It was only three words: I'll do it.

And I did.

Chapter one: Non-Human Contact

Nuru

I was about to rub the mirror with my palm to look at myself, but I stopped before I reached it. I set my hand back down on the sink with a sigh. My reflection wouldn't look any different than any other day, even if I wanted it to. I just knew that my bright green eyes hadn't miraculously changed to a plain dull brown overnight. Even through the fog, I could tell that my skin was still so pale that people, who didn't know who I was would frequently stop me in the hall to ask if I was sick. It didn't help that I had dark circles around my eyes or that my arms could make a chopstick look obese.[1] Then there was the fact that I was practically short enough to legally be a midget.

At least my hair was normal-looking now. Sure I needed to dye it black again every few days so that the roots didn't show, but at least it wasn't red anymore. Now I could blend into the crowd easier. I liked it when I could be invisible. Sometimes I wished that I really could disappear at will. Maybe that's why I wore so much black. Plus, if you wore black all the time at my school, people thought you were depressed. Then you got to mess with the school psychiatrist.

I actually smiled when I remembered that come Monday I got to skip government affairs class to go mess with the shrink that they had hired this time. Like I was ever going to use anything I learned in that class.

I walked into the bedroom I shared with my best friend. He wasn't there, so I changed out in the open. I placed my towel into the laundry hamper precisely three inches from the wall, the same as I always did. After that I pulled on a pair of black boxers, baggy black jeans, a black extra-large tee shirt, and the plus-seven zipper-hooded-sweatshirt of awesomeness I had worn every day that it wasn't being washed since I had first gotten it for my birthday a few years ago.

I walked out of my room and into the kitchen. It wasn't really that big, but it worked. We could only fit three seats at the table, but there were only three of us, so it was perfect. The floor was old wood and needed to be refinished, but no one had the time. The walls were a faded pea-green color, and the windows were obscured by yellowish curtains with a grapevine pattern on them. The appliances were old too; they were probably all from the seventies or eighties at best and were the same color as the walls, only they were rusted instead of faded. All of the space on outdated linoleum counter was taken up by the making of breakfast. It was ugly, in my opinion, but, hey, it was home.

I sat down at the table before realizing that I had left by bag with all of my stuff in it in my room. I closed my eyes and the bag came flying onto the floor next to my chair.

What? Was that unexpected or something? I am a magical being, after all. My powers weren't very strong at all when I was sixteen. Not that I knew that then. I thought that I was on top of the world, mainly because I hadn't met anyone who could top me, and I was the only one in the house who could see auras.[2] Don't get used me using magic too much, though, especially out in the open. Magic for humans is abnormal, even by the lowest standards. Abnormal ends in you being poked and prodded naked under bright lights in a government base in some undisclosed location with no hope of anyone coming to rescue you. I don't know about you people, but that is more than the incentive I need to not go dropping boulders on people I hate, thank you very much.

It was a relief to be able to do that in my own home, though. I had found my place of refuge here years ago, but no matter how much time I had put between myself and then, I still felt a bit insecure. No matter what my new family said, I could still be kicked out very quickly. I never forgot that.

I looked over and yelled to the cook, "Hey, food ready yet?" Part of me was genuinely hungry, but mostly I just wanted to see his apron.

He whirled around to glare at me. I smirked. Will and I had been living together for more than half our lives and now thought of each other as brothers. Acted like it too.

"What a wonderful picture. I could probably get you a frock and complete it, if you'd like."

Will was fuming… or maybe it was the fact that the eggs he was making were burning behind him. Either way it was funny.

He was dressed simply. He had on loose blue jeans and an orange tee shirt[3] that was stretched across his muscular chest. I was infinitely jealous of him for that. I suppose you're not allowed to have magical powers and the least bit of muscle now are you? Not only that, but the guy was on just about every sport team in the school and all the girls (and a good deal of the guys) loved him, leaving no one for the people like me who are barely strong enough to do a single push-up. That's why I took so much pleasure in moments like this: when his golden hair was messed up even beyond its usual amount, his sapphire eyes were glazed with anger both at me and at the oven, and, the best part, he was wearing Mom's frilly pink apron since he lacked one of his own.

"Don't be so cocky, you have to cook next week," He snapped.

I leaned back in my chair and smirked. I knew that next week it was my turn, I just didn't care. Cooking wasn't that hard, and I didn't have to wear Mom's apron. I had just gone to the store and bought a plain white one. For some reason, Will never figured out that he could probably do that too. He hadn't even asked to borrow mine on a single occasion leading me to wonder if he actually sort of liked wearing the atrocious thing.

Will had finally decided the eggs were unsalvageable and started making some waffles instead when Mom came downstairs. It was a Sunday, so she didn't need to worry about making sure Will and I didn't forget something important on our way to school and could sleep as late as she wanted. Which, according to the clock on the wall, was about nine.

"Good morning, boys," she said with a smile.

I smiled back. Mom was everything a mother should be in my mind. She was on the short side (yet still taller than me), and a little pudgy. Her azure eyes were always so alive and full of emotion, usually happiness, and shimmered like gemstones. Most of the time, she wore simple dresses, her short blonde hair tied in a ponytail, and a bandanna that matched her dress tied around her head so that the knot was beneath her hair. She was really Will's mother. At first, she had had me call her Isabelle, her real name, because she said being called Mrs. Brown made her feel old. From the day she took me in, I thought of her as my mother, though. I accidentally called her Mom in public, but she didn't mind so I continued to call her that. She ran a store that sold herbal remedies that took up the entire first floor of our house. She was always cheerful and almost a bit playful even though her husband had died fourteen years prior when he got pneumonia. She was the nicest person on earth. She deserved that title for actually letting me stay with her.

"Well," Mom said, "What're you planning to do today, Freddy?"

I winced. I hated that name. Fredrick. Ugh. If you ask me, naming a poor defenseless baby that is child abuse. However, no one listens to the quiet freak that sits in the back of the class, so it took six years longer than it should have to get my mother in prison. I think the whole ordeal took a good two to three years off of my life span, but at least I ended up somewhere I was loved, so I don't let it get me down.

However, that doesn't change the fact that before she was arrested, she went and named me Fredrick. Personally, I would rather have a girl's name. But, I had to play the hand I'd been given, Freddies or not.

"Well, Will is going to hang out with a friend of his, so I suppose I'll be going too. I have to go to work at noon on Sundays, so I'm guessing I'll be back around five, depending on whether the owner wants to call it a day early and go see his family, like he usually does."

"Alright," Mom said with a smile, "Have fun, you two. And remember not to get into trouble, you know how little most people like it when groups of adolescents hang out."

As soon as the waffles were done (amazingly, they weren't totally charred), and the three of us had eaten, Will and I left and went to a back alley nearby.

You see, this 'friend' of Will's had fallen in with the wrong crowd. Will decided it was his sacred duty to roll himself in meat and throw himself into the lion's den (figuratively of course). He didn't seem to take into account that it was my sacred duty to keep the person who saved my life (or at least my sanity) ten years ago from falling in, even though it meant I had to hold on to his wrist with one had while trying to keep us from falling by holding onto a particularly loose-looking root with the other. With both hands holding on to something, all I could do was pray Will came to his senses before the root broke and we fell spiraling into a vortex of death, destruction, despair, and all those other bad things that start with the letter D.

When we got there, Alex and Jim were already waiting. Jim was the friend I had mentioned that had gotten into the wrong crowd. Alex was the focal point of said crowd.

Jim had been Will's closest friend before he met me. He was a pretty big guy, and not just from my point of view. His hair was right on the edge between blond and brown. He had gray eyes, but I saw very little life in them. He wasn't smart at all.

Then there was Alex; or Smith, as I liked to call him. He didn't deserve to have real name. He thought he was really tough. He was fairly tall too, and had a lot of muscle. He was three years older than us and was the ringleader of the little party. He had mud-colored eyes and hair. He also always wore a beat up old top hat that 'symbolized a crown and his leadership.' He was actually the one that got me to dye my hair from his constant taunts. If he kept it up, I was going to snap. I'm not stupid. I knew that if I was really upset I wouldn't be able to use my magic well and I was the weakest out of them all, physically speaking, that is. If Smith and I fought, I would loose my dignity and probably my life as well. For now I just had to suck it up and live with him.

Barely five minutes after we got there, another person entered the scene. The person was just taller than me.[4] Their hair was black, fairly short and messy. However, the hair was long enough to cover their ears. Their eyes were so dark they appeared almost not to have irises at all. They wore a long jacket, even though it was mid-June and plenty warm outside. The jacket also made it impossible to tell if the person was male or female until they spoke. They wore a plaid cap, almost like a beret, that was tipped to the left so much that it was almost like there had to be a pole or something affixed to their head keeping it up. I noticed something odd about their aura: they weren't human.

Smith stepped forward. "Who are you, and what do you think you're doin' in our alley." Even though it was a question, he said it as if it were a statement.

"I'm the new kid in town," the boy, for I could tell from the voice that he was a boy, said, "and I heard you were some of the strongest around here." He smirked and I could see bloodlust in his eyes.

"You heard right." Smith said, "Even our worst fighter could probably tear you limb from limb."

"So he will die prior to the rest. Bring him out. I do not need to prepare."

The brunette made a noise of disapproval. "Alright Jim, I hate the way this git talks. Show 'im what's what."

I blinked. I was the weakest, not Jim. But then again, I was a far better fighter because I was so quick. I made no comment on it, though. It was better to let that idiot get beat up than get hurt myself. I didn't give a rat's ass about what happened to him.

Jim stepped away from Will and me to face the challenger. The two locked eyes, and Smith explained the rules. There were none. Then, he signaled for the two to begin fighting.

The person with black hair didn't move other than to give his opponent a half-smile that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Jim charged forward, ready to mow the smaller boy over. Still, the boy didn't move, but his grin widened. The blond kept running. Only at the last second did the outsider take action. He sidestepped to his right and grabbed Jim's wrist. A loud snap and a scream were heard. He didn't stop there, though. Having broken the other male's arm, the short boy flung his opponent by his broken wrist into the wall. There was an even more sickening crack, but no scream. Everyone gasped. This mystery person had killed someone nearly twice his size without even breaking a sweat.

Smith pulled a knife and cursed. "You killed him! Now I'm gonna return the favor."

I mentally swore. I had managed to let Will's closest human friend die, and now Smith was about to go too. If I let that happen, things would not be good around the house. I had lost everything once. I didn't want to start over again. Time to start acting impressive and intelligent. I unzipped my sweatshirt and took it off before handing it to Will. My brother sighed. He knew that I'd be fighting, and he knew that I wouldn't be talked out of it either. He had realized years ago that it was better just to back me on this sort of thing.

"Wait." I said, as slowly and quietly as I could without losing comprehension. I lowered my voice as far as I could without sounding dumb.

"Fred…?"[5] Smith said.

I took a step forward and continued to act as cool as I could, ignoring him. "I'll fight him." I said, "I know your style, and it's obvious you'll lose. You can't beat him with strength alone." I looked at Jim's body, which was crumpled on the ground next to the wall. I felt almost sick. I can't stand to see anything that looks like a dead body in real life. I had to keep my façade together, though. "We don't want you to end up like him."

"If I'd lose, you don't stand a chance." Smith sneered, "There's no question over who's stronger."

Will someone explain this one to me? We were standing in front of someone who had just killed a member of his gang, and all he could do was point out that I was a stick? I whirled around and glared at him. "That's precisely why I must be the one to fight him, Alexander.[6] Besides, if worse comes to worst, I always have that." In a last ditch effort to get in and make sure Will didn't get killed, I had shown Smith my powers. I offered to be his trump card, and he agreed.

"You'd use It in front of an outsider? In broad daylight?"

"Why not? He deserves it, after killing Jim like that. Besides," I tried not to grimace, "If I do, he won't live to tell anyone."

I didn't like the idea of hurting this guy, even though he had just killed Jim. There was just something about him that made me want to… befriend him. He had some sort of draw that made me want to keep him close, not romantically, but just as a friend. I had no idea why, though, and it sort of scared me. I shook my head. That didn't matter. He had upset Will, and I had to protect my brother at all costs.

The boy with blood on his hands seemed interested at this point. "You are the next opponent?" I nodded. "Good, I was starting to wonder what you are."

I was shocked. I wondered for a second if my aura was like this boy's, if I had that inhuman feel to mine. But I recovered quickly, I had to get tough or die. "Same rules as before. Go."

Neither of us moved. Both of our eyes ran across the scene, looking for even the slightest advantage. I sent my magic to search the area for anything to help as well as timidly poking the boy's aura. I knew he was doing the same to me. There was a very tense feeling in the air.

"I have lost all doubt now," the boy with the cap said, his murderous grin fading. "I'm not going to pretend to be weak with a person like you." He turned to Will and Smith, "Leave. I don't want him to be distracted. I want this battle to have been even when I wash the streets with his blood."

The spectators had a look of fear on their faces. They slowly walked out of the alley. Smith didn't even stop,[7] but Will did and to give me a look that said 'please don't die.' With that, I was alone with a dead body and a crazy non-human thing.

We locked eyes and the boy said some sort of gibberish. I gave him a look of confusion. That was the weirdest sound I had ever heard come out of a living creature, that includes all the 'singing' Will does in the shower.

"Almost nothing then," he said, switching to English. "Alright, I don't have any regrets about killing you now."

"Don't act is if it's already happened. We don't know how this will work out," I said. I sounded pretty good for being scared out of my wits. My voice hadn't even cracked or anything. "Now come."

The other boy obliged, but not like Jim had done. He moved much more smoothly. I couldn't help but think he was almost like a lion when he ran.

I jumped as soon as I was sure he wouldn't be able to stop moving. I grabbed onto the floor of a balcony over my head and pulled myself up.[8] A loud thud was heard as my opponent hit the wall. I then clambered on top of the rail before leaping as silently as possible to the roof of the building to hopefully confuse the other guy a bit.

The other boy (whose hat had somehow stayed on) walked out of the wreckage clutching his head. I narrowed my eyes and assessed the damage. My opponent wasn't hurt at all.

"Alright," the other guy said, "You have Desian reflexes..."

I stiffened. He had called me 'Desian...' he knew what I was. I wondered, was he like me? He would have been the first one I had ever seen. ...The first Des'ew...

These thoughts were stricken from my head as he charged forward yelling "Now let's see about your speed!"

It went on like that. The boy with the coat would make false attacks on me, and I would either pass or fail. There were, of course, the things that I knew how to do, but evidently there was a huge mass of abilities I was either unaware or incapable of...

As soon as the nameless boy had finished checking all of my powers, he stood up straight and said, mockingly "You'll probably never get beyond the level of an average ten-year-old. You were robbed of your chance to really live prior to your birth, that's too bad. I've never heard of anyone having anything like yours. It would be kinder just to put you out of your misery. Better luck next time."

I readied myself for an attack. I focused not only on the person in front of me, but I also sent out pulses looking for small twitches of magic. I knew my opponent would try to do me in with one strike, so the blast would either be very powerful, very precise, or both. I then leaned against a wall with my palm flat against the stone and closed my eyes. I gathered my energy at my palm, waiting for the opportune moment.

The black-eyed boy ran forward at full speed with his hand in a fist. When he was about three meters away, I moved.

"Now," I thought.

I pulled my hand back from the wall, and with it a rapier made from the rock of the building. Then, I pulled out the knife I carried with me at all times and put it in my left hand.

The taller boy tried to stop, but it was no use. The stone rapier cut deep into his flesh about ten centimeters from his right side, probably slicing through a few organs. I wasn't done yet, though. I shifted my weight and swung the boy to the left to make sure the flesh didn't just rip. I knew that it was no good to just stab him, so as the other boy swung around, I slid my knife along the back of his head hard enough to lave a major bruise if the damage from the cut didn't kill him outright. Once I delivered the blow, I pulled out my weapon and let him fly into a wall. The momentum carried him right through and into the room behind it. I felt almost bad for whoever owned the place. However, I decided that it was more important to finish the fight. That wall was stone too; I could fix it with magic later on.

I didn't take my eyes off of my opponent. That turned out to be a wise move because within thirty seconds, the other boy had shakily gotten to his feet and his side was healed. However, he did seem dazed from the blow to the head and was swaying. His mouth had a black-ish liquid substance in it, and when he spit it out it burned a hole small in the concrete beneath us. Part of me knew that it was uncommon for a male to have the acid-fangs,[9] but I ignored it. Stranger things have happened.

Before the black-eyed boy could regain his balance completely, I launched another attack. I manipulated the concrete into a wide pillar that shielded my body up to my chest. I then 'cut' thin discs out of the concrete and launched them at the other boy. The target lifted his arms and deflected them, but he got cut up himself. He was smart enough to stop himself from healing. They weren't going to kill him, and it was very possible he'd need every drop of magic.

At that time, I jumped into the air, using what was left of my (now waist-height) pillar to get extra altitude. When I reached the right distance, I threw several concrete knives, made at the last second. There were eight, one for each space between my fingers, and all hit a definite mark. One went deep into my opponent's right shoulder, one just below his ribcage, one in his thigh, three in his stomach, one hit each wrist, and one went deep into the calf of the leg that didn't get hit in the thigh. Of course, none of them were going to kill him, but they had to be healed either because otherwise they would become fatal or it would severely hinder his movement.

I smirked. My plan wasn't all that complex. I knew that if I fought the other boy at full power, I would loose very quickly. I was going to have to milk as much magic out of him as possible with small attacks that took little energy. In every pass, I only used a fraction of the magic needed to do something as difficult and complex[10] as healing.

That was how almost all of the battle went, I would bombard the other boy with weapons made from concrete. The boy would heal himself. As soon as he was done healing the wounds from one set of weapons, another wave would arrive and slice him open again.

Soon, the boy with the hat (which was still held on by some sort of supernatural force) was almost out of energy. I pulled out my original knife and ran it across my teeth, adding a good deal of my clear anti-magic. I made sure that I had coated it with plenty of the liquid. I didn't want him to heal any time soon. I ran close to my opponent as quickly as I could, making sure he didn't have time to react and made a huge slash across his lower chest, ending with the knife being embedded in a rib when it cut too deep. He screamed and fell to his knees, clutching his chest. He was losing too much blood: it was surely a fatal wound.

I felt like I was going to vomit. Now there were two bodies and just one living person. And what was worse, one of them was dead by my hands. I was a killer now… I let go of the weapon and turned away.

That was my mistake. Faster than I could react, the boy pulled the knife from his chest and slashed down my spine. All I remember is a huge flash of pain down my back, and then an overwhelming darkness as my intelligence left me.

-

[1]I know what you're thinking. I wasn't anorexic; I always tried to eat as much as the few people willing to sit by me at lunch, even though I usually failed. I just didn't seem to get as much out of anything I ate as normal people.

[2]For those of you who aren't magic-savvy, around every living thing (except for plants, things that act like them, and jellyfish) is an aura. The size and shape depend on the person's mood and the intensely of their emotion, but the color is always the same. Typically, it's the shape of the person and goes out about three centimeters from their skin. I can't tell you what mine looks like. Much like you cannot really hear your own voice, you cannot see your own aura.

[3]He's been obsessed with that color since I told him it matched his aura

[4]Just barely, though. Somewhere, someone must have seen a pig grow wings and take to the sky.

[5]Another mental curse. That is SO child abuse.

[6]I don't know why, but you humans seem to associate using someone's full name with said person being in trouble. I learned this long ago, and like to use it to my advantage.

[7]Git.

[8]For once, being the lightest kid in school pays off!

[9]According to Mom, there are two types of fangs that a Des'ew can possess that are in place of their normal canines. First, there are the acid-fangs that, true to their name, emit a powerful acid, and are almost always found in females. The people who have them have saliva that is very alkaline so they don't burn a hole in their mouth. The poison is stored in small sacs in the back of the head and is connected to the fangs by thin tubes that run along the top of the skull. In full-grown Des'ew, the fangs reach back there and can be extended, similar to a snake's. The second type is the blood-fangs, which most males (including me) have. They secrete a sort of anti-magical liquid. It blocks spells over the area containing the liquid. That means that if you are bitten and it draws blood, you cannot heal it with magic like you could a normal wound. Also, the liquid is used to cause magical changes in living creatures. These normally grow to be a bit bigger than normal human teeth, but most of us pass them off as imperfect teeth.

[10] Like most things, magic has different degrees of difficulty. Magic is, in its essence, the ability to manipulate nature. Therefore, the more things must change, the harder it is. Most of the simplest are the location of energy such as illusions or 'super charging' different muscles in your body to give you an extra boost. Ones in the middle are things like changing an object's shape, but not it's mass or nature (like what I do). The trickiest by far are the ones that change an object's nature or growth rate, such as healing or making plants grow at unnatural speeds, but those are also the best to use against people. The more complex a spell is, the more energy it takes, but also the bigger and more mystical the reward. The healing of wounds in oneself is special in that it is done automatically, however, it still takes the same amount of energy as healing anything else.