Nothing Sacred

The Overworld. To you, as a reader, you probably live in that 'modern' world of Earth. You are a story, a myth to the people of the Overworld. Almost as they are to you.

Imagine your typical fantasy land, complete with everything from oil lamps to monsters and knights. But not magic. Magic is as much of a fairytale to Overworlders as it is to you, something to imagine but not speak of. The Overworld has the incredible, indescribable cleanliness of countryside and regal and dramatic castles.

But one thing is different to what you will be imagining. There is one specific and unique perk that comes with being an Overworlder. Every living person has a weapon. No two people have the same weapon, or 'Sacred Arm', as they are known as. Even if two people had a similar sword, straight, same size and similar engravings, there can't be two identical weapons. It has been theorised that one particular family had a Sacred Arm which was passed down through generations once the predecessors had died, but it has never been confirmed.

The special thing about Sacred Arms is that they can be summoned by will, meaning that no one was ever without defence.

No one . . . No one but one boy.

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One

My name is Chase. An orphaned kid (teen?), living on the streets. There's this little stone bridge I sleep under, and the village it's in has everything I need to survive, so why leave, right?

Why am I called Chase? I never had anyone to name me. So I named myself. Since I have to steal most of what is stolen, so I'm the sort of guy who gets in trouble a lot. Which leads to chases. I'm in crazy good shape because of it.

My only real problem is . . . well . . .

I have no Sacred Arm. Which sucks. Really hard. It's a good thing that monsters rarely come near villages like Farnn, or I'd have been dead years ago. It was around when I was eight or something (I had to ask SO MANY people when they first thought they'd seen me around and how old I looked) when I had my revelation. I have no Sacred Arm. But I have a strong body, right? So when I'm not nicking things from the market or trying to find somewhere warm, I work out. It almost sounds cheesy, sad, but when you're defenceless like me, you take that kinda thing seriously.

And I have Heath. He's poor, lives in a tiny house on the edge of the Farnn with his five elder siblings and his mother. He's essentially my only friend. He's blond, with a perfectly proportioned face and high cheekbones which girls find cute for some weird reason. Girls are weird.

His Sacred Arm is an elegant trident, which suits his versatile personality just fine.

There's this small school near the village's centre which I'm allowed to attend for some reason, but I learn more from sneaking in to the Bishop's house and 'borrowing' some of his books. Every settlement has some form of a Bishop, but they don't do much more than act as the Nations's eyes and ears, drowning in their wealth. Farnn's Bishop is better than most of the others I've seen, (I had a little field day bouncing around nearby villages and towns to compare — I can be curious like that) but he still has velvet drapes and conspicuous gold holy items - every single thing in his house reeks of an overflow of lucre and luxury.

But punishment waits for me anytime I get caught breaking entry to places like that. Generally only people rich enough to have houses interesting enough for me to climb through a window, and those are the lucky suckers with enough self-righteousness to give me a beating.

Speaking of, I get to cover for Heath a lot. He gets picked on. He's a squirt; same age as me, fifteen-ish, but he's, like, maybe two feet smaller. That's partly my fault though. I'm taller than most adults. But apparently I'm too childish to be able to be allowed into the tavern.