Memory Shards (Book#1 of Malachi)

Chapter 3: The Village

"Are you sure?" He stated, nervousness in his voice. He had been dreading the whole time.

Another boy nodded at him, "Of course. If not, then why would I want both of us to do this?"

"Ok," replied the boy. He looked into the mirror, and saw himself. He tried to put on a poker face, a pointless attempt. He hated his look. He was the epitome of a loser, he thought. Most people could pull off the glasses look. He failed miserably at it. His pimples made things worse, his braces giving the same effect. He was that nerd, cliché character in every story with a cool friend that had befriended him since his childhood.

His friend beside him laughed. "Don't be so afraid. I'm here with you. I'm just as nervous as you!"

The boy envied his friend, his bestfriend- really, his only friend.

He was the tall type with a lean muscle build. He was also a cliché character from a story: he was the boy that was oblivious to pretty girls liking him. He was smart, athletic, and had a smooth way of talking.

He's the main Character in this story, the boy thought, not me. I can never forget that.

The boy sighed then looked at his friend. "Once we do this, I'll be on the road to success! Thanks again for your help!"

His best friend looked surprised at his enthusiasm, then he let out a wide grin. He stuck out his fist for a bump. "That's the spirit!"

Hope awoke from the dream. She sat up to look around in her room. A tapestry hung over to the left side of her wall. It held the image of a large diamond, a person at it's center, flames at the corners of the diamond. She held her head, sighing. Sleep hadn't help her escape too much from the problems at hand. She thought it odd how she couldn't remember any of the faces in her dream, like a blur where there faces should have been.

She threw her legs over the bed and stood up. Now that she had an afternoon's nap, she could focus at the task at hand. She would have to convince her entire village not to kill Malachi.

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Malachi was surrounded by darkness. He was inside of a hut, a faint light shining in through the cracks of the walls.

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After being knocked unconscious by ninjas, he awoke to being tied to a chair.

His immediate thought had been about Hope. Was she ok? That was answered shortly. A man- most likely the one to strike him before- entered the hut and told him of what was to come.

Malachi was a threat to the entire island, until proven otherwise. He was going to be judged by the people come the afternoon. The elders would be present, but ultimately the Islanders were to choose his fate.

The man-ninja- told his name. It was Titus.

Titus was tall. His dark clothes wrapped around his body, tightly. It showed his muscles underneath. It made no point to Malachi. Why wear something so trivial, especially on an island? It proved no protection from the looks of it. Titus was around the age of 25 cycles. Cycles, their apparent measure of time. Malachi still wasn't sure how long that was.

"And what of Hope?" Malachi had asked.

Titus had only smirked. "Do you concern yourself with the gray girl? You truly concern me, as no one cares but you. That might be a sign of your danger."

Malachi gritted his teeth. He hadn't cared for his remarks of her skin color, just her well being.

Titus laughed, and assured him Hope was alive and well. He walked out of the hut, saying an intriguing thing.