If you want to know my story, then you must first know I'm one of the very few Outworlders. No, not those angels that dawned from heaven to dictate divine decree, obviously. Not of the Celestial Radiance, either. Well, my exterior was a big giveaway.
I was just one of those poor saps that got thrust into your world when an out-of-control practitioner screwed around with higher-dinsional laws.
"What?" Both won leaned forward in alarm, not understanding what I ant by all this.
"Hush now," I told them, "don't interrupt when a storyteller is speaking."
Well, I'm hardly a storyteller, but I deserved. . . needed their silence and uninterrupted attention to carry on with this. Both won shut their mouths as I leaned back in my seat, head slightly upwards in a contemplative mood.
To know my story, we must begin from the beginning. You'll understand everything as we go deeper.
My story. . . never have I imagined I'd share this with soone. So my story started with being thrown into prison. No, it was before that. It was when I laid my eyes on the magic of this world. But that wasn't the beginning either, and much of that ti needed to be explained, too.
The farthest I can rember from the beginning was of convulsing on the cold floor of so underground facility, complicity oblivious of what transpired. What I got myself into.
These weren't those 'school' pranks where bullies try to pick on you? Wait, do you guys know what's a 'school'?
It was kinda like a prison, but instead of staying there forever, we have to go there almost every day in the morning, and until a certain ti I couldn't go out. We have teachers in place of wardens, who would try to teach us many things and ask us to do many things.
It's a terrible comparison, but you get the point.
Anyway, back to the story.
My body was completely torn, muscles split, sipping out blood all over my body, and even my bones were cranking at every slight movent. I could barely squirm and feel the few n surrounding my body, watching over with a contemplative mood, nobody coming to help.
I squird louder, trying to get their attention, but all I managed from them was so squeak of displeasure.
They didn't even bat an eye on my poor condition. I learned clearly why they were like that shortly. There was blood in the air, pungent air stuffed in the closed room. They had been cooking up sothing terrible.
My blood ran cold.
One of the n in the back shouted, but I couldn't understand what he said, or what language it was. A few seconds later, a couple of labourers ca and carried out of the room through the unfriendly stares of those n.
I was elected to get out of the stuffy room, but outside was no better either. It was all dark or dimly lit stone corridors. The atmosphere was boiling with no fresh air to breathe. Those n carried to a cell-like room and fed water. They poured water on my face, totally uncaring if I drank or not.
People treat animals better than that.
But I drank the water as much as I could as a cool feeling spread to my chest, to my burning figure. I didn't know if it had relieved my pain, but I was relieved. Sowhat.
Then those n made drink sothing else. It was a small vial full of blue liquid. I had a bad feeling about this the mont I laid my sight upon it. Those n's eyes were impassive as if just doing what they were told.
I tried to be as unaccommodating as I could be, but the clutches of those n were iron strong, and I'm barely alive.
One of them held together in place, staring at coldly. He said sothing and seed to know I could not understand him, but the cruelty in his eyes sipped my blood cold.
They punched a couple of tis in the face and broke a couple of fingers until I opened my mouth for them to pour in the liquid. I was going to die, anyway. Why bother making it more painful?
Yet, deep inside, I still held a little hope to keep living on. These n were terribly strong. They wouldn't need poison or anything similar to kill . Why even bother? Even if they had thrown out of there, I couldn't survive more than a couple of days with the wounds I bore.
Unlike the water, they were a bit better at feeding the blue liquid. It was icy cold to gulp down as if liquid nitrogen had been poured on my lips. My internal system burned in icy agony as my face turned red.
I squird on the ground, my tattered clothes barely holding on as I scread at the top of my lungs. Excruciating pain took over and I couldn't wait to die.
However, that was not all. Sothing weird happened. My torn-up skin started to heal at an alarming rate. My split muscles were barely sore after a while. Even my mangled bones got better, though I was still not in any condition to stand up.
I tried to straighten the fingers that these n broke. They healed up too, as I could feel the terribly burning indignation spread through was healing .
I was aghast at this completely ludicrous situation.
Not only had I woken up to a completely torn body on the verge of dying, but to a completely foreign situation where people didn't bat an eye on anyone dying.
'This would surely turn out to be a nightmare,' I thought back then, and I was right.
Even though my body healed up, I acted in pain as the two n that brought into this room were still present.
They discussed sothing between them, ignoring for a while until they put a chain on my neck and left.
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The flashback chapters will be written in 1st person as Gale was telling all this to Wang Li and Xiaolin or soone else. Also, don't expect to get all of his past in a single instalnt. I'll divide them between all the volus as the story would work on two tilines.
I planned to make the flashbacks no more than 10 - 15% of the story. That should be a healthy chunk in contrast to the current tiline.
Comnt to let know how this chapter turns out to be.
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