Rift Chronicles

Rift Chronicles Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A New Beginning

Hunter: the word alone evokes an image of someone on a relentless search. In the world of Chronos, there are those who hunt for new species, while others hunt for new lands never seen before. There are those who hunt for missing people and those who look for lost truths. There are many other things that they look for, but one thing that binds them all together is that they all are on a hunt of some form. This group of people are known as Hunters, and very few are capable of joining their ranks.

"Grant, get up!" yelled a voice from downstairs.

Grant let out a moan and cocooned himself in his blanket. It was too early and his bed was too comfy.

"Get up!" the voice said, this time much closer.

Grant let out a loud snore, which prompted Flora to pull the blanket off of the sleeping teenager. She muttered, "Honestly."

The cold air in the room drifted over Grant and made him sit right up. "I'm up, I'm up. What's the big deal?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his brown eyes.

Flora stared blankly for a second, then shook her head. "Have you forgotten what today is already? Here I thought you wanted to become a Hunter. Oh well, there is always next year."

Grant instantly jumped out of bed. "Wait! The exams are today! Oh my goodness, I slept in! Oh no! Oh no!"

He ran around his room to try and get ready.

Flora smiled. "It's okay, it is still early. I know you have been waiting for this moment since you were little. What kind of mother do you think I would be if I had let you sleep through it?"

Grant let out a sigh of relief and slowed down his frantic pace. "Thanks, Mom. I owe you."

His mom started to leave the room, chuckling to herself about her son's antics. "Come downstairs when you are ready. Your grandmother and I have made breakfast," she called over her shoulder, shutting the wooden door behind her.

Grant raised his arms above his head and stretched. Today was the day his journey of becoming a Hunter began. He felt a rush of adrenaline surge through his body as he bristled with excitement at what lay ahead. He made his way over to his old oak dresser, then pulled out his favorite brown wool sweater that his grandmother had made for him. Looking at it made him smile, so he picked out a green cotton tee and a pair of denim jeans to go with the sweater. Once he had changed, he went over to his mirror and ran his hands through his short brown hair. "That's neat enough," he said with a smile of approval.

Once dressed, Grant then grabbed his large leather backpack that he had packed the day before, along with his walking stick. He knew that this might take awhile, and it came in handy when scaring off critters. After that, he made his way to his door and was about to exit when he decided to take one last look at his room. This probably would be the last time he'd see his room for at least a couple of weeks.

On a stand next to his bed was a picture of his father and mother with him as a child. Then there was his father's old fishing pole in the corner of the room. A brief moment of sadness washed over him. He had never been away from home for so long. He shook his head. Now wasn't the time for this.

His eye caught his unmade bed with the blanket still on the floor. An idea popped into his mind: he would make his bed for once in his life and leave a note for his mother. He put the pillow against the headboard and neatly spread the blanket across the bed. Then he grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote something on it. He left it on his pillow, nodded in approval, and left his room.