Robert rounded the corner onto the beach. He could literally see his house, and most of all, he could see the blood stating to drip from his arm onto the sand. Robert stopped and stared at the bay. He put his hand on his arm and squeezed it hard. It was just so painful. Robert fell to his knees in frustration and agony. A single tear fell from his cheek onto the wound, which surprisingly made it worse. But from the light of the full moon, he could just faintly see small bubbles boiling up from the scar and the skin on his arm being pulled back into place and healing shut. Before he knew what the heck had just happened, Robert's pain left him, and he was just left with a bloody arm.
He blinked, and then without any second thoughts, he ran over to the edge of the water and submerged his whole hand under its cooling surface. He wiped all the blood clean from his arm, and when he was done, he shook most of the water off. He examined his hand. It was spotless. For all that anyone could tell, he was just fine, but Robert of course knew that something was wrong. Well, maybe not wrong, just weird, different. Did he just heal himself? Was Detreel right? Did he have powers?
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Read an Excerpt
The Stevenson Chronicles
By Shane Madsen
Trafford PublishingCopyright © 2015 Shane Madsen
All rights reserved.
These are dark times; sorrow has fallen on every corner of this once beautiful world. The newest race of Dragon Warriors has been born, and we, the only three dragons left in existence, are powerless to stop them. Our sister of Dagenbrothe, still unhatched, is far from battle and short yet of a human to be her master. Our only hope now delicately lies within the hands of a young boy. Yet still to a boy of miraculous power, that of which no human or dragon has ever possessed. His powers, however, are still developing, but the time is drawing near for his powers to come to him, nearer then he could ever imagine. My name's Deltorn and I am one of the final dragons, although, I am the last who comes from the Southern tribe, Kadenbrothe, the tribe of fire. Along with the new help of the prophesied one, and also with the help of my two kin, Saphire from the Northern tribe, Asenbrothe, the tribe of water and ice, and Sparks from the Western tribe, Elecenbrothe, the tribe of air and electricity, we will defeat the Dragon Warriors and end their reign of tyranny forever!"
* * *
Just on the western coast of Dragona, past the gleaming bay of Simeria, and below the monstrous cliff side of Teller's Ledge, there lived a boy by the name of Robert. He was a plain, ordinary sixteen year old boy who lived with his two parents by the names of Arthur and Marylyn Stevenson and ... the rest of his farm. It wasn't the nicest in Algoosta; it didn't have big, fancy barns and hog pens. Quaintly, his farm was small, roughly six acres, some of which was sheep pens, but there was still plenty to do. He was always put in charge of the boring things; sweeping the floor of the kitchen, changing hay every day for the animals, and making sure there were always five sheep in the pen. To him, his life was nothing but basic. He didn't really have a plan for his life yet, and the chances of him actually making it somewhere in this world were slim to none. He couldn't do anything special; he couldn't even draw a circle correctly.
He was hardly athletic, though he could hit a baseball and kick a soccer ball, but he wasn't good enough for an actual sports team. He just couldn't find out what he was good at, he was talentless; he didn't even have a girlfriend, someone he had hoped he would've had by then.
But what he did have was a view. His house was located just above the beach, sitting on a rock ledge, overlooking the bay, and even the ocean. It was a good spot, and not just because it helped when the beach flooded, but because he always had a place to think and be by himself. The ledge was dotted with bushes baring flowers of all sorts of colors and fragrances. And perfect enough; two small palm trees were planted directly on the edge of it. They were just wide enough to place a hammock in between them, and Robert used it many times when it was warm enough out. He just wished he had someone to share it with.
His friends were great, and they loved coming over to visit, the shore was always warm and the water was filled with so much life that you'd never get unoccupied. His life just wasn't very unique, and he really didn't have any way to change that. At least, he thought so, until he discovered a very important secret that changed the course of his life, forever.
* * *
"Robert," yelled his mother, "Yorke's sitting here ready to go, are you still sleeping?"
"Just a sec'," called back Robert.
Soon after Nathaniel beat his brother in the duel, he began to construct a few towns on the island, and eventually, over the decades, one actually turned into Algoosta. It had everything anyone would ever need. Of course, it had a schooling system, it had a few restaurants, a post office, a dock, and it had a couple of retail shops as well. There was a single gas station that always had cheap gas, which no one on the island thought worse of. Life, too had replenished itself, giving Algoosta a fresh scent, and a wonderfully colorful appearance. A forest had even grown next to the town; it had been named after a great leader of the old clan, Finnegan. Cliffs still dotted the outer rim of the island, and a reef littered the ocean floor surrounding the island.
It was currently summer break at the Algoosta High School and Robert was enjoying all two months of it. He'd started his first day off by just going to the pool with his two friends AJ and Jackson. They had had races, contests, and almost all the fun that could be possessed in a single year. After that they didn't really do anything except play games on Jackson's PlayStation. Unfortunately for Robert, he wasn't very good at these either, and they always ended in him with the lowest score. But that wasn't really his favorite part of summer vacation anyways. He loved to see the clock strike three-fifteen and the class rush out the glass doors and out of the school. In fact, once the crowd was so rough that he accidentally bumped into his sister Samantha ... but ... that was before she died.
She had been in his class as well as AJ. Jackson had been in another. She'd been walking home from school one day with him and she ran across a crosswalk and was hit by an oncoming jeep.
Robert could still see it being replayed in his head day after day. The screams, the thoughts that must have been running in his head, it was almost too much for him. Little by little He remembered the distinct scent of gasoline just as he was turning the corner onto the walk, and he saw her whole body fly back a ways before coming to a sudden stop at the end of the block, she hadn't been moving. He remembered his heart literally stopping for at least two seconds. Sounds and sights had become meaningless, distant; all he was conscious of was his sisters limp body. He remembered the boiling hot tears that quickly consumed his face as he ran over to her side, to check if she was still alive. He recalled the sirens, and the lights as the ambulance arrived and erupted men and women who tore him from her grasp, all the while he had cried, and struggled to her aid. But he also remembered the terrible part about the entire ordeal. The fact that there was no one driving the vehicle ... well ... that was, no one ever came out of it to help, and no one ever found anyone inside of the jeep.
Robert had done all he could to help her, but by the time the ambulance had arrived, he knew that she was near death's door. The only thing he really remembered also from that day was that two cloaked men had slowly been walking by, and one of them had a small remote control cradled in his right arm. Arthur had rushed to the hospital as soon as he received word of the accident, but came back empty- handed, and with the worst of news, Samantha had completely disappeared. She was never heard from again.
"Come on Robert! Do I need to come up there?" yelled his mother again.
Robert suddenly awoke from his daydream.
"Hold on, I'm coming."
"You'd better be," she mumbled back.
Robert quickly got up and looked over at his mirror. He flinched a little at his terrible bed head. His brown hair was all over and his usually bright green eyes were now just a sickly olive color. He turned his head and cracked it a bit, he yawned and then slowly but surely got out of bed. He opened up his oak dresser and slipped on a dirty T-shirt, and hustled downstairs. His home also wasn't the fanciest. It looked like just about every other house in the area, but it was very small. He swung around the stairs and patted Yorke on the head. Robert walked over to the coat rack to grab Yorke's leash, but it wasn't there. Robert turned around to see that the dog had it grasped in his large wet mouth. Robert stroked his shinny golden fur and then took the leash from his grasp.
"Hey Robert!" said Arthur from the kitchen, "come here a sec'."
"Yeah?" responded Robert. He sat the leash down on the ground and strode into the kitchen. "Wha'dya need?"
"Do me a favor, and check out this story in the paper!" Arthur folded up the newspaper and sat it on the counter for Robert to read. He looked at his mother, who, by now, had begun washing the dishes for the day. He usually awoke to the same scene every morning. He'd wake up, find his dad reading the paper and sipping on his coffee, and his mother would be either eating breakfast as well or doing some sort of house work. Robert was then put to work for the day, and when he was finished, he'd go and hang out with his friends. He got Saturdays to himself though. But his dad had never asked him to read the paper too, Robert looked at the caption. He scanned over each word taking each phrase to memory and then he reread it. His eyes finished scanning and they jumped to the publisher of the article, Arnold P. Stevenson. Robert, confused, glanced up to see his father looking at him.
"So what do you think?" Arthur asked excitedly.
"We have a relative who works for the paper?" Robert looked back at the picture still trying to figure it out.
"Really, sometimes I wonder if you're actually as smart as your grades suggest. Look at it closer. Can you see it yet?"
"No, what am I looking for?" He smiled as he said this, because he had a small idea of what his dad would mean, but he just couldn't find it.
"Here," Arthur picked up the paper and flapped it out. He slowly sat it down on the table as if it were a piece of tissue paper instead and pointed to a long bolt of lightning coming from the main box. "What if this was a tail and this ..." he pointed to another section "... was a head, here're the wings, and these are the feet." Arthur smiled and slapped his hand on top of the paper lying on the table top.
"A dragon?" sighed Robert sarcastically.
"Very good!" Arthur said back. "One from ..."
"Now what do you think?"
"I think you've been reading out of that dragon book again!"
Arthur laughed a good hearty laugh. It was great when he laughed, it made Robert laugh too, he was just a little too tired this morning though. The dragon book was a small book that had been passed down from generation to generation in his family. It simply contained a detailed description and history of Dragona. Robert was familiar with the legends, all it spoke of was dragons, and magic, and some tree. None of it was real, he knew that. But it was interesting to see his dad taking it all to heart, as if he believed it were all real. But it was weird too; at times it seemed that the room grew thirty degrees hotter than usual, or forty degrees cooler all in an instant. And last year when the storm came through and knocked out their power grid, Arthur had fixed up the entire neighborhood in less than a second, literally. There was even that one time where Robert woke up early one morning and a new tree had grown in his backyard, overnight, it wasn't possible!
Arthur wiped his eyes clear of a tear and then spoke again.
"Maybe you should go and do your chores; otherwise your mother'll get back at me later for keeping you." Robert nodded and then hustled back over to Yorke.
Marylyn smiled at Robert as she waved him out the door. "Hurry up; you've got chores to do later." Robert laughed to himself as he picked up the leash and strapped it onto Yorke's blue collar. He stood up and opened the door. Robert looked at Yorke; the dog was lying on the ground, sitting there whimpering. Robert had to walk him; his mother would not let him forget about it later if he didn't even get the dog outside for a few minutes. He thought to himself a little bit, but then he realized something, his treats. Robert sat the leash down once again and went to the closet where they kept Yorke's treats. He grabbed one and raced back to the open doorway where Yorke was still sitting. Finally Robert got him outside of the door. Confusingly, Yorke was scared of something, but what it was, Robert didn't know. Yorke followed Robert though out into the unknown.
They slowly passed all of Algoosta's famous landmarks; Teller's Cliff, the place where the very first dragon was supposedly resting until he was called upon by the so called teller; and the Finnegan Forest, grown right on the edges of Algoosta. It was the largest forest in Dragona. They even went past Simeria itself, the biggest body of water until the ocean. Robert sometimes stopped here wondering what more could be out there. Not many people left Algoosta, and no one ever came here that didn't already have a place to call their own on the island.
Perhaps that would be where he would find his destiny, over the tranquil waters of that sea, maybe there he could become free. He had his own spot for thinking. It was just on a large rock next to the waters that Robert and Yorke sat on and stared out into the nothingness of the waves. The Sun usually casted its hot, refreshing rays on its surface, creating a warm, relaxing seat.
Unfortunately, today, it wasn't exactly the warmest of days; in fact, fog was just beginning to roll down the cliff sides into the bay where they sat. Robert and Yorke both watched as its spindly fingers lurched towards their legs and surrounded them in a dense thicket of mist and cloud. Robert looked at the fog, and then at Yorke, slowly shrinking to the ground in fright.
"Hey, how'd you like to go and visit AJ for a while? I'm sure Angel's there as well." Yorke turned his head to look at Robert. He gave him a look of pure delight. "I'll take that as a yes," mumbled Robert.
Together they turned onto the path that led to AJ's house and began up the steep hill towards town.
As Robert walked with his friendly companion up the hill he gazed at the beautiful scenery that he had become quite accustom to within his few years. The usual smell of wild parsnips, daisies, and roses filled his nostrils while his eyes swept themselves over top the vast, grey mountains that dotted the landscape. The path on which they were walking on was rocky, so when Robert noticed that Yorke began continuously tripping, Robert put it out of mind. They continued up the trail until, finally, he tripped himself.
"Yorke, tripping the guy who's got the leash isn't exactly the best idea." Yorke just sat there and stared at him, lolling his tongue out and panting like always. But Robert noticed something else, Yorke was simply too far away to have tripped him, his attention was slowly turned to the ground, to the spot where he had tripped. He gasped in horror, and then looked back over their trail. What he was looking at, he was completely taken aback by. He was looking at a large five- toed footprint, which, to his complete surprise, resembled that of a fire- breathing monster, a dragon.CHAPTER 2
Robert took a swift, long glance all around him. He didn't expect to see anyone, and of course he didn't, no one ever took this route this early in the morning. He dropped Yorke's leash and squatted close to the ground. He ran his hands through the deep impression, the details were absolutely terrifying. Each scale appeared with such clarity and the size of them horribly correct for a dragon. He pulled out his cell phone and fumblingly snapped a picture of the print onto his phone. He stared at the screen, Arthur might have been weird at times but Robert really couldn't deny this.
Robert quickly swept some dirt onto the prints until they disappeared completely in both directions. It was common sense to him, he perfectly well knew that any sign of a dragon would send Algoosta running. After all, dragons were supposed to have died a long time ago if they ever existed at all. Hunting was plentiful of the island, but a six foot long, reptilian like head mounted on anyone's wall would make the perfect prize. Robert stood up and admired his handiwork,
"Come on Yorke, let's go."
Excerpted from The Stevenson Chronicles by Shane Madsen. Copyright © 2015 Shane Madsen. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
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