Gin-Maintain

In a land far from where you live (even if you live in like, Cambodia), an extraordinary man waits for his tale to be told. This tale will be known as . . . Very Long Saga. ~~~ "Hey man, are you ok?" A voice behind him asked. The prison was dimly lit, but fortunately for its prisoners, not dark. Cold, large, gray stones surrounded them entirely, save a door to the cell. He looked down to see a brightly colored uniform. The robes resembled warrior monk clothes. Something large was nesting on his head. His tan hands reached up and felt a mass of cloth, with two stands hanging down across his back. It was a grand turban. Judging from the hang

Chapter 3   The pencil dangled precariously. It was loosely held in place between Forsythe's upper lip and his nose. He wasn't a poor student, and no one ever caught him daydreaming, but he rarely paid attention in class, preferring to learn elsewhere. His stomach growled at him, impatiently demanding lunch. This voice was much more significant to him. As the teacher explained many different ways in which the letter "x" mingled with numbers, Forsythe received a tap on the shoulder and a note.   "You and me, after school. I bet I can kick your ass. - Paul," the note read. Forsythe lifted an eyebrow. Not only was this the first note he rece

Chapter 2   "Like this?" Felicia Pacetti clumsily moved her arms, trying to remember what she had just seen. She then broke her fighting stance to tie her unruly black hair into a ponytail. Felicia apologized and smiled nervously. Although her build and demeanor could be described as those of a tomboy, Felicia remained very attractive, with feminine mannerisms. Forsythe watched patiently. It was a peaceful day, and the sun crept through the blinds in Forsythe's bedroom.   "Let's see that again," Forsythe said to patiently prompt his casual student. Now that he was a high school student, his voice had deepened. It had a calm and meditativ

Chapter 1                Forsythe awoke with a start. In his dream he had fallen without warning, collapsed in a haunting world. His mother and father would have reminded him that eating sweets before bedtime would give him nightmares, and that explanation would have comforted him. Only a few hours had passed since he fell asleep. Forsythe knew this by looking out his window at the fading sky over Cobalt. The evening became night without the slightest noise except for the cars hurrying in and out of the sleeping city. One car was not in a hurry. Its dim headlights faded just as the sky had done, and its passengers stepped outside.      Up