“Ok, you guys ready?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“YEAH! Let’s go, go, go!”

“Can we get something to eat first? I’m hungry…”

“Why do we have to sneak in? Can’t we just bust through the front door? It’s less confusing that way.”

“How ‘bout not?”

“No.”

“It wouldn’t be so confusing if you didn’t lose that map, Sil!”

“Don’t maps usually locate the kitchen?”

“If you guys like the map so much then…” Sil said, searching through her bag. “Oops.”

“Don’t tell me you lost it.”

“I didn’t lose it. I misplaced it. There’s a difference!” Sil shot back.

“She lost it.”

“Hm…”

“So, no food then?”

“So we don’t have a map and Res’s hungry. Great.”

“Correct.”

“Who cares? Let’s go!”

“Can we just stop by a town and restock? Pleeeease?” Res complained.

“Eh heh heh heh…” Sil laughed, hysterically.

“What, ‘eh heh heh heh’?”

“I would know not.”

“No laughing like that, Sil! You’re giving me the heebie jeebies.”

“What’s there to be scared of? As long as I get to eat later.” Res scoffed.

“Eh heh heh heh… sssscared, aren’t we… Ryiiiikie?” Sil hissed, stretching out certain syllables.

“Stop that, Sil. And Ryikie, silence.”

“Yeah, what Paiske said. Everyone, let’s mosey.”

“Just make sure she doesn’t laugh like that again!” Ryikie whined.

“The faster we get this done, the sooner we eat.” said Res, eagerly.

“Hey hey hey! Who died and made you boss? …. Oops. Sorry.” Sil said, regretfully.

“Put that aside.” Paiske said.

“Now’s not the time for that. Wait till we’re done with this area and then we’ll talk.”

Silence enveloped the five, as if even nature could tell what Sil had said wrong. He broke off from the huddle of the group, motioned and whispered, “Let’s go.”

“Oooo… you made ‘im angry…” Ryikie whispered.

“Yeah, he’s super scary when he’s pissed off.” Res responeded.

“No… he’s not angry. I don’t know, but he’s… disappointed?” Sil whispered.

Right before the group stood a huge tower, placed on top of a castle, at the summit of a mountain. They stood at the back door, but even then, the gang could feel the darkness of the tower, looming over them, laughing. Ryikie and Res stood closest to the building, marveling at its size. Both looked up simultaneously.

“Looks like what they say is true.” Ryikie stated.

“What?” Res asked.

“A castle a day keeps the soldiers at bay.”

On Thursday, I attended, or rather played in a winter concert for my school orchestra. The pieces played were: "Merry Widow," "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Eve" & "Sinfonia in D" by Intermediate Orchestra, "Folk Tune & Fiddle Dance," "Medley of The Beach Boys" and "Celestial Fantasy" by Advanced orchestra, which I was in, and, "Sleigh Ride" and "Folk Songs of Somerset" by Symphonic Orchestra. There was also a viola ensemble and a bass ensemble that played. Symphonic Orchestra is composed of a string orchestra along with one trumpet, and a full percussion section, not including harps or a piano.

It had bells, a whip and reindeer noises made throughout the piece, what else could it be besides "Sleigh Ride?" The other piece by Symphonic Orchestra was an English folk tune, something that you might imagine an army of medieval knights galloping with and raiding a castle. Or just something satirical like Monty Python. The Symphonic Orchestra would be the best, of course; they were so together in everything. The bows moved in the same direction at the same time, like a well-choreographed wrestling match, without the sweaty, bearded men.

On to the Advanced Orchestra: "Folk Tune" was the first movement, then came "Fiddle Dance." "Folk Tune" sounded like what it was called, with kind of a copied melody from "Greensleeves." "Fiddle Dance" was what you would expect to hear at a hoedown, but a bit more elegant. There was this one section where the piece stated "In a jovial manner." My music teacher suggested that we imagine a jolly mill worker for that part, overweight and happy. I had formed a picture for myself of this area of the piece, but it was of a guy having a drink at a bar and singing. For Beach Boys, we played "In My Room," "Good Vibrations," "Barbra Ann" and "I Get Around." That was fun. The pieces were quite different from what one would expect from a string orchestra.

And Intermediate Orchestra: "Sinfonia in D" was a light, kind of free and airy piece, something similar to the works of Mozart. "Merry Widow" was somewhat ironic, but the point through the name could be seen. The piece was not particularly happy or sad, neither disturbing nor comforting. Just something that didn�t do much to stir the soul. It was just, there. "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Eve," I cannot recall, for it was mixed in with all the rest of those songs filled with Christmas-ness.

Altogether, it was an enjoyable experience, but there were complaints of the auditorium being too cold. At Carol Channing Theater, 7:30 PM to 9:30 PM, one week and one day from the beginning of winter vacation, an orchestra plays. And so it will play, every year.

Searching your surroundings, you see a long, metal pipe about the length of your arm, and twice as thin. You drop your pack, pick the rod up, and begin to run towards the young woman, all the while testing the rod’s weight, yelling “Stop!” The two men turn around and proceed towards you, the short one pulling out a crowbar and the taller one pulling out a knife. In that instant, you consider your combat engagement. The short one has reach, because of his crowbar, so take that one out first. The alley is narrow, so they can just about fight you, two on one, but with the shorter guy’s stance, he doesn’t leave much room.

You prepare to fight the short one, taking up a stance, remembering dominant side forward, like fencing… almost. Block, catch, strike. The short one takes a backhand swing, you instinctively block with a backhand upward swing, grab the weapon and swing around your rod  around your head, gathering momentum, and swinging at the short one’s neck. Block, catch, strike.

CLAAANG!!! You turn to the direction of the noise. The tall one drops to the floor with eyes wide open. Behind him, you see the girl, holding, then dropping, a metal trash can lid. She lets out a sigh and drops to her knees on the floor, exhausted.

You drop with her, in concern, and ask, “ Are you all right?” She responds with a nod.

 “Thank…huff…you, for your……assistance. You…huff…shall be amply compensated…” she says to you. She chants some strange language, one you’ve never heard before.

Suddenly, you feel a strange sensation first on your skin, then somewhere deeper, where your heart would be. You look to your hands, which are replaced by tiny, bright white spheres, and everything you see becomes white.

—————————-

Opening your eyes, from what seems to be a slumber of days, you let out a scream of anguish. Momentarily, your skin feels as though 10,000 needles are piercing it, your eyes sting from the air around you, your tongue tastes of black coffee and dirt, your nose tingles quite a bit, causing your eyes to water non-stop. Footsteps approach you and a young male voice pushes a bowl into your hands, and says, “Drink this.”  Slowly, a bowl reaches your lips and you swallow a tasteless liquid. The liquid cures you of all of your previous aliments; no longer do you cry out in torment.

Sweat drips from your forehead and into a pond before you. The drop of sweat sends a ripple throughout the surface of the liquid, extending and creating a wave that crashes into the ridge on the other side. Your feet feel the vibrations as the male voice says to you, “I must now depart. Food is provided to you on your right, according to your diet of your race. Water or H2O is provided to your left. Your story begins to unfold; I wish you luck. Fare thee well.”

Two large wooden doors close with the exit of the voice. The room looks like trees have taken over the place, like a gardener forgot to trim the leaves, for years. The brick that was once the barrier against the elements is cracked and grown over by branches and moss. It looks like someone has intended for this to happen. You look around the room; the place seems to be a fairly wooded area.  Baskets made of woven straw are displayed, full of what looks like fruit, a large pond is placed for fresh water.  Above you there seems to be a roof made of dense foliage providing shelter. Around you, you feel a strange heat, warming your body, as if the aura of the living was providing warmth for you. The ground beneath your feet is of dry dirt and twigs. You search for a resting place and you find a flat rock to sit upon.

You look into the pool and a voice suddenly booms, “This is your story.” You will see all, know all, feel all.

The once again lonesome mercenary in the forest of the
forgotten and the princess that learned the etiquette of
the world.

But the story’s just begun.

——————————

Her story

“M’Lady has returned, m’Lady has returned! No, no, no,
this will not do, the preparations are not finished yet!”
the head nurse Dorothy said, frantically.

“Really, Dorothy, all of this isn’t needed.” I said,
trying to calm her down.

I walked towards the stairway of the palace, which led
to the rooms of the household members, walked up the stairs
and proceeded to my room. I opened the large, plain white
door to reveal a world which was not my own.

It was now possibly the most girly room there could be.
The sunlight, which was once a nice white was now a bright
pink, because of the red curtains that replaced my black
ones. The beige carpet which was once littered with stains
of dirt and mud was now replaced with a dark pink carpet.
My large beech cabinet transformed into a huge rose-colored
cabinet with swinging doors, and dolls dominating the
cabinet. I opened the doors to find dresses of all sizes,
all white, pink or somewhere in between. Lovely. Bloody
lovely. A large book full of notes of the spells I had
learned, once residing in a corner of my room, was now a
pretty little book, titled 101 ways to put on your
make-up, along with a huge mirror and a desk with
little drawers. I cannot divulge any longer, it hurts too
much inside.

———————————

My mother had always tried to change me, with etiquette
teachers or teachers that would try to teach me how to
court boys. Magic was my motivation, I was always amazed by
the masters of the art. With a snap of their fingers, the
masters of the art would call a beast to do their bidding.
With a clap, all ailments would be purged. With a mere
murmur, it seemed as if they could alter the heavens
themselves. My mother saw my fascination with magic and
urged me to develop a spell that would make me more
attractive, so that I could marry rich, she would tell me.
It didn’t seem as if I needed a spell to attract drooling
hormone-crazed teenagers.

It would always happen at parties, the ones that my
parents held. I would dress for the occasion, I was not
opposed to that. After all, it was only once in a while. I
had a white dress, gloves and shoes with heels. I would tie
my short hair up and receive compliments for my look. I
never really saw what was so great about this.

Then the party would begin. I would walk around and make
small talk, then excuse myself to the confines of my room,
away from the show which featured the rising businessmen,
kings and princes. That was pretty much the plan for those
evenings. But it all changed one night.

I was doing my regular routine, make small talk and go
away. But my mother had something else planned. I noticed
it, of course, the pointing at me by my mother to tell some
young male that I was her daughter, or so I had thought.
Then later in the evening, my mother had several
adolescents follow her. My hatred was unparalleled towards
these individuals, but mostly towards my mother. My mother
was going to introduce these individuals to me, these
drooling, hormone-crazed adolescent boys. By boys, I only
mean to insult their character, their level of maturity
wasn’t anywhere near what it should be, hell, it never went
up. That was the night I blinded everyone in the room
temporarily. That was the night I packed my things. That
was the night I ran away.

I had gotten so sick of the materialistic society in
which I was born and raised in. Just have to make as much
money as you can, my father said. Have to be as pretty as
you can, so all the rich boys will like you, my mother
said.

————————————

Now, I had returned to the place of my childhood, if you
could call it that. I got tired of the room, and sickened
at the sight of it, and decided to leave. I was turning
towards the door and was met by my little sister, a
long-haired, short, thin blonde wearing a pink dress and a
pout.

“Out of my way.” I commanded of her, I had no desire to
say anything to her.

“Why? You are not the boss of me!” Macy, my little
sister, said in the same royal tone my entire family
had.

She had the same “I’m better than you so listen to me.
If you don’t, I’ll have your head chopped off. And I’ll
tell the executioner to miss.” accent that everyone else in
my family had. I had never known that I spoke with an
accent, because those I played with always had the same
accent. It never occurred to me that I sounded “snotty,
bratty, or stuck-up,” in his words.

With a wave of my arm, I knocked her on her back,
against the hallway wall. Without any words, I headed for
the bathing room.

“I’m going to grow up and be rich and powerful; I’ll be
better than you! You’re a failure, you should’ve never had
the family name. You! Don’t you walk away from me!” Macy
yelled behind me.

I didn’t have time for this, if I had the time, I
would’ve shut her up. I reached the bathroom with many
regrets of my hesitant nature. She was still yelling. Open
the door, close it, and seal it. I was very self-conscious.
I could still hear her haughty accent through the door,
still yelling curses and insults in my direction.

“Have I changed this much?” I said, “My voice, it’s so
different.”

My accent, once-haughty accent, like my sister’s, had
disintegrated, now becoming something similar to the
townsfolks’ accent. He had taught me.

—————————————

On the night that I ran away, I had bumped into a
wandering stranger. The night was dark and my eyes couldn’t
adjust to the dark quickly enough. The first words that
came out of the strangers’ mouth were, “Hiya. Do you know
where I could find an inn to stay for the night?”

I backed away and started running. At this, he yelled,
“Hey! Where are you going?”

I ran away from the castle, away from the town, and into
my master’s home. My teacher was making his dinner at that
time. “Hold up, wait 3, you mean 3 whole minutes for this
to be ready? And I have to boil water? There should be a
reason why this is called instant!” was the voice that came
from the hut filled with light.

Yeah, my master was kinda weird; for one thing, he
didn’t know how to cook. Or maybe he just forgot how to
cook. Either way, he would usually go out and eat at a
restaurant or have something with instructions. Old age
must’ve been getting to him.

“Ah…come in, come in.” he said, when I approached the
entranceway. His house was never locked, he didn’t have
anything of value and he could take out pretty much all
petty thieves and burglars. He must’ve recognized my
presence.

“And I suppose you want some noodles?” he asked as I
came in.

“No, no, no, nothing like that.” I replied.

“They’re good, you know.”

“Not for your health they aren’t.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any?””

“It was enough.”

“No, I don’t.”

“It’ll only take 3 minutes.”

“I’ve already eaten.”

“Probably not enough.

“Hm… ah… they’re done. Not too shabby.” he said
through slurping noises.

In the meantime, someone had come in. “‘scuse me, would
it bother you if I stayed for the night?”

It was the same voice as from the road. The stranger I
had bumped into must have followed me.

“No, not at all. But first things first..” my master was
interrupted.

“Oh, yes. My name is…” the stranger was
interrupted.

“You want some ramen?”

“Cin. And, what?”

“Would you like some ramen?” he repeated.

“No thanks.”

“Are you sure?” Slurp.

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“You sound a bit uncertain.” Slurp.

“I had enough nutrients to last me for
the….”Interrupted.

“Ah! Cursed noodles caught in my beard!”

“Night.”

“Alright then.”

I looked at the stranger, now known by “Cin”. He wore a
puzzled expression on his face. Not surprising.

Later that night we introduced ourselves to one another,
and explained our situations. We sat in a circle to talk
and to pass the time.

I started, “Well, I’m being forced to be courted by
several drooling boys, at the party I ran away from and I
have nowhere else to go.”

“I’m her magic teacher and I was just eating my dinner.
Want some?”

“No thanks.” Cin replied, “As you can tell by my current
dress, I am a mercenary and a bounty hunter, when I can. I
am wandering the world in search of jobs to make some coin
and feed myself with.”

Somehow, some way, I could tell that Cin wasn’t telling
the truth. Not the whole truth anyway. He seemed to wear
the equipment of someone traveling, a bag, at least one
weapon, tough clothing, sturdy boots and gloves. But
something about him suggested that he was out for something
else, something big.

“Ah! I know! Since you are traveling,” he pointed to
Cin, “and you want to run away,” he pointed to me, “why
don’t the two of you help each other?”

“Umm… one thing. I’m a soldier, not a baby-sitter.”
Cin said.

“Baby? You aren’t that much older than I am you know!” I
yelled.

“How are you anyway?” My master asked.

“Me? I’m 18 now.”

“Hah! I’m16!”

“So then, it’s settled.”

“Yeah, what’s settled?”

“What is?”

“You’re taking her along right?”

“I never said that!”

“And I did not say I wanted to!”

“But you two get along so well…”

Then we went to our separate areas of my master’s house.
Cin took the teaching room, I took the other side of the
teaching room, and my master had his bedroom. I quickly
cast a spell of protection when I got my place.

“Not very trusting, are we?” Cin asked.

“To my master, yes. To you, not so much.” I replied.

“Oh, well. In any case, be ready early tomorrow
morning.”

“Why?”

“You’ve got an accent. If you’re going to run away,
you’ll have to get rid of it, fast.”

I noticed it somewhat before, because of my teacher’s
accent being different from mine, but I never thought that
it mattered much. I didn’t reply.

The next morning, I woke up when the sun had risen, and
the first sight of my day was a close-up of Cin’s face. I
woke up to a wide-eyed stare.

“YAH!” I yelled in shock.

“Hm… it’s ‘bout time you woke up.” Cin said.

“How did you..? When did you…?”

“Oh, the barrier? Something called ‘Barrier Break’. It’s
pretty useful.” He twirled his large sword around. It was a
curved blade, something like a katana, but made of
something different and had a rainbow shine. “Let’s
begin.”

“What?”

“The lesson.”

So, for hours upon hours, he tried to convert my accent
from haughty and snobbish to somewhat humble and tough.

“Ooookay. First things first. The words you use. You
seem to have the regular language down fairly well, but try
to push things. Like, instead of ‘did not,’ use ‘didn’t.’
Try and make things as short as possible.” He told me.

“Alright, then.” I was now fairly willing to learn; he
was right, after all.

“Next is your accent. Recite the alphabet.”

“A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R,
S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z.”

“Hmm…. try and repeat after me. Imitate me.”

“A.”

“A.”

“B.”

“B.”

“C.”

“C.”

And on we went. He went through the entire alphabet ten
times and had me repeat phrases that were heard most often.
My accent had diminished a large amount by noon. When I was
learning from him, he seemed to take more care in getting
to know me than teaching. Later that day, I was to tag
along with him, as were my master’s directions. I didn’t
object.

————————–

I finished bathing and cleaning my clothes. I quickly
dressed, my clothes being dried from a heat spell. I undid
the seal and exited, only to find my mother on the opposite
wall of the hall. I asked, “ Why was I called here?”

“Your father has been killed. Your father was in the
front lines and was shot down off his mount. This would’ve
never happened if you hadn’t left!”

My father had been dead for 3 days, and now my mother
was the head of the kingdom, because he had no male heirs.
This meant one thing. Life was going to be hell, if I
stayed around.

The laughter of children rings out into the air once more.

I had always kept to myself. It was easier that way. I didn’t have to rely
on anyone to do anything for me. I would do it myself. I stood alone, because
a wise man doesn’t need anyone to think with him; I didn’t need anyone to feel
with me. Nobody really cared for me, not really anyway. Maybe a "Are you
okay?" or "Ya need anything?" here and there, but nothing to
any real meaning. It started with just a simple "Hello" or "Hi",
maybe sometimes saying "Hey," and then grew into something else, something
I had never tried before, something out of my daily routine.

Sometimes, I would be sitting in the shade of the curb, staring off into space,
or so it might seem from the outside. During those times, I would be contemplating
my next story idea. She would be sitting on the other side of the curb, sometimes,
and invite a seat next to her, to "share in the warmth of the sunlight."
I would complain that I was too tanned to stay in the sun for long, without
increasing the damage of my already damaged skin. "How else do you get
your vitamin D?" she would say. I would settle for that. So we would sit
there, next to each other in the sunlight, not saying anything, as if we could
mentally understand each other. Sometimes, she would come over to the shaded
area.

We began to speak more often, even learning each others’ names. Now, not only
would we speak on the curb, but in the school hallways, while on the road to
class, in class, or sitting down in the hallways. I began to open up more and
more often.

The first time that happened, for the first time in my life, I cried that night.

She would say that I was always looking at something blankly, as if I were
staring off into my own little world. She would joke that that stare could make
or break lives. She would say that I looked sad often, too often.

And now she’s gone. I won’t divulge how or why, but the simple fact is that
she’s gone.

You taught me that life is important and to make the most of it. You taught
me to look to the future, and to sit on the bright side, in the sun.

I stand up and cross the street.

Although the world is fairly peaceful now, the book still applies today,
through business and competition in general. One of the main points that
The Art of War stresses is “Victory over battle:” winning a war without
fighting, without harming the opposing army much. The victor in any war
has wisdom, benevolence, credibility, courage, and discipline. Making
himself invincible through preparation and defense, looking for cracks and
flaw in his opponent, the victor wins with ease.

There is a tale, once told in ancient China: there was a lord who asked
his physician, who was born among a family of doctors, who was the
greatest among them. The physician said this as his answer, “My eldest
brother senses the spirit of the illness before it afflicts anyone, so his
notice of his work does not get out of the house. My elder brother cures
any sickness when it is still has affected the victim at its lowest, so
his work is not known out of the village. I prescribe potions, cures,
mixtures and massage those in pain, so my work is often heard and spoken
of amongst lords and kings.” This means that warriors were known for
courage in battle, not for the lack of a great battle.

“Draw them in with the prospect of gain, then take them by confusion.” I
think that this section of the first chapter says to lure the enemy into a
point of weakness. Luring infamous bank robbers into an unguarded vault is
a good example of “Draw them in with the prospect of gain.” Having
someone capture them by walking through the walls of the vault is a way to
surprise them. Leaving an entire camp alone stocked with food supplies and
weapons is a way to get the enemy’s guard lowered, making them overly
confident, perfect for a surprise attack from behind.

“In a chariot battle, reward the first (warrior) to capture at least ten
chariots.” This, I think means to offer a reward to one, so that the rest
of the camp will be eager to receive that reward. Thus, the camp will be
filled with ready men and high morale.

“In ancient times, those known as good warriors prevailed when it was easy
to prevail.”
This applies to the story above, except for the word getting out of the
good warriors, not known as great.

The Art of War has no need for an introduction, it has no need to employ
tricks to keep its reader interested, it displays itself to the most
simplistic degree, only giving general guidelines in its pages, provoking
profound passages of thought, such as “Perhaps it means this, or maybe
that, but it does mention the …”. Its re-read value is tremendous: the
more one flips through the pages of this book, the more thoughts become
present and the more pathways to the mind become clear.

With no smoke and mirrors or lighting effects, The Art of War is what it
is and always will be- a classic.

Trying to think of a response, I paced around in a circle. She picked up her staff and started
to leave. I was too busy pacing to notice her walking away.

“So what? Are you just going to let me leave?” she asked.

She looked towards me, with her eyes fixated on me, like a tiger focused on its prey. I
searched through my bag, frantically searching for a memento. My hands hit a round,
metallic object. I pulled the medallion out and showed it to her. Its surface reflected against
the sun, the light as bright as ten thousand stars blazing in the night, each star as clear as the
memories of the prison that we were forced to stay in, memories we would never forget.

The prison had been created in a section of the coliseum that we were forced to fight in, or
die. That was life for a few weeks: entertain the masses, win, rest and be prepared for the
next foe that we would face. At midday, a meager ration of bread and water. Sometimes
there would not be enough to go around, and a fight would break out where the cafeteria for
the staff was. Then the rebels would be killed. There were never any extra rations; every time
someone died in the renegade fights, the food was immediately picked up by the staff and
eaten right in our faces.

If you were to lose in battle, you would die. If the masses weren’t entertained, you would die.
If you died, your body was tossed to the sides of the ring for the survivors to gather, after
the customers left. Not a prayer was said for the departing souls, not a notice sent to their
families, not even names to be remembered. There was always someone to replace them the
next day. For the survivors of the day, at nighttime, we would be sent out to gather and place
the corpses onto a cart, which carried the remains and dumped it into a nearby grave site.

She wasn’t as strong as everybody else, so she had trouble lifting the bodies onto the cart.
Then, she would get whipped. I’d try to help her but the slavers supervising the task was
informed not to let anyone assist others. The first night in the cell, she told me the whip
stung like “a thousand bees stinging you as you ran through a forest of cacti, then having
your best friend slap you in the face.” The whip itself was an enchanted whip, as we found
out from one of the others being held prisoner. To protect her, she had to prepare a
protection spell to use later in the day, to cast when no one was around. They did not allow
any form of sorcery from the prisoners.

At nighttime, they would give us gruel as murky, powdery white as a swamp is black, to eat
before blowing out the torches. Our cell was completely empty. It was just a large stone box,
with us inside. We would sleep in one of the corners away from the bars. I would sit down
and rest my head on the cold stone and she would sleep on my shoulder. Then daylight
would come, seeing the rays of light through the holes of the cold metal bars lifted my spirits
a bit. Soon after, I would realize where I was.

One night, we had a visitor, and I was alerted to this by a nudge from her. It was one of the
staff one of the “enforcers” to keep the prisoners working, the one that always whipped her.
He had brought a torch to light the way with him. She had her mouth covered so tight as to
not even let a breath escape. Her face looked like a blown up puffer fish. Her eyes wide, as
large as a deer’s eyes right before it was about to get hit by an incoming car, streaming with
tears. The worker was trying to keep quiet, only snickering. Apparently, he was not aware
that I had awakened. I slowly got up, so as to not startle the others in the cells or the worker.
I struck one blow to the neck with the blade of my hand and he was knocked unconscious.

I asked her, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, nothing happened, he just tried to, you know. All he did was…….pervert!” she said,
then shuddered.
“Hey, keep it quiet, okay?!” I whispered.
She nodded and sat down. I frantically searched his pocket and belt.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Searching for…” I said, and pulled out a ring of keys, “this!”
“Yay!”

We opened the door and threw him down the hallway. The torch was snuffed out and using
barely a whisper, she cast a cloak spell about us. Down the hallway, to where the “enforcer”
was previously guarding, we snuck in the shadows, through the back doors, to freedom.
—————-

“Don’t make this so hard.” she said, eyes softening, “I have to leave.”
“But..” I began to say, but was interrupted.
“‘But’ nothing! Who are you to tell me to journey with you? Don’t you think I want to?”
“These last few months with you haven’t been that bad. Enjoyed them, even,” I said, trying
to smile.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Nothing!”
“So did I,” she said, smiling back.
I couldn’t say anything. Nothing would come out.
“What’ll you do now?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “Travel some more.”
“Next time you’re in the area, stop by.”
“Okay, but I want you to have this,” I said, while tossing the coin to her.
“I guess this is good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”

I watched as she walked away, into the darkness of the forest, sheltering those beneath its
leaves from the sunlight. Every individual cell in my body felt ready to pull her back. I gave
up on my feelings and collapsed to my knees, with the sun beating down and the wind
blowing every now and then. Night finally came.

“We’ll meet again, someday.”

Searching for something to relieve my boredom, I stumble upon my Magic
deck. I decide to sit down and see if I can improve it a bit. Sorting my
deck, I am reminded of a friend, Megan, always poking me and urging me to
return to the real world. I love her for trying, and I will, for her sake,
seeing as though she’ll be leaving for Germany for a year.

Disappointed in myself, I drop the cards and start to wander about my
room. On my desk, I find my elementary school class pictures. One face
sticks out the more than the others, Tom, or Tommo, as I occasionally call
him, now a good friend of 6 years. Looking at us like that, my mind
wanders to the many joyful days on the playground, and now to the modern
day, where people find us strange when I slap the back of his head for
saying something stupid.

Full of old memories, I pick up my middle school yearbook, and flipping
through the pages, I see two of my oldest and best friends of the opposite
sex, Julley and Shirley. Going over these pictures revokes old
predicaments that we faced, some significant, others not. Skip ahead 3
years from when we met; this afternoon, Shirley’s telling me what
friendship and the kind of bond we share, means to her.

Getting a little tired of reminiscing, I proceed to the bathroom and
decide to examine myself in the mirror.

What was the point of writing this, you ask? You tell me. Was this a
complete waste of your time? Maybe.

Tell me, when you look in the mirror, what do you see? Me? I see a lost
little boy, searching for the path through this journey called life. He
frantically searches for the path to find himself. Having a guide would
help a bit, but would never compare to having companions. After all,
travel is only as good as the friends you travel with.

and artifacts.

“Yu-Gi-Oh!” is also a trading card game, created by 4kids Entertainment,
Inc.. Players collect, compete, play, and trade. Cards represent spells,
monsters, magic, and traps. There are elements such as fire, water, wind,
light, dark, and thunder.

light, dark, and thunder.

California has been overwhelmed with the sudden take-off in popularity of
Yu-Gi-Oh!. There have been claims made by Inquest magazine that the entire
nation has been overtaken by this wave of obsession; I will assume that
this is true. Card stores, toy stores, and your game consoles have caught
the plague of Yu-Gi-Oh!. Toys, games, and TV shows promote the card game,
building its enterprise. The players are pulled like a magnet toward the
pictures, and the so-called strategy, while the company thrives on the
addictions of the young souls. This article points out the flaws of the
game. I, myself, am a Magic player, so this piece will compare the two.

It’s obvious what’s important in choosing a hobby: cost. Yu-Gi-Oh! is
twice as expensive as Magic. However, this varies from area to area. A
booster pack for Magic is generally from $3.25-$3.60, and contains
fourteen random cards, but one and only one rare card. The fourteen random
cards are mainly commons, but the pack should contain 2-4 uncommon cards.
The booster packs also come in sets, and all cards in the booster packs
will come from that set. For Yu-Gi-Oh!, the cost goes from $4-$5, and
packs contain 9 cards. The contents? 1 rare, super, ultra, or secret card
and 8 random commons. The chance that you will receive a super rare is 1
in 6, receiving an ultra rare is 1 in 12, and last is the secret rare,
which is 1 in 24. The most common and probable out of all of these is a
regular rare. Yu-Gi-Oh! currently has 3 sets released in America.

You can play Yu-Gi-Oh! online: all you have to do is download the program
onto your computer and you’re all set. All the cards are there, there’s
nothing to it, and it’s all free!! Once you download the program, you can
create your own decks and start playing other players. There are also
organized tournaments, and you can participate free of charge. However, if
you don’t have a very fast computer or do have a fairly old computer, it
may crash.

In Magic, however, you must treat the game as though you were playing in
real life. You must act as though the cards are real, and you need other
players to play. The service itself is free of charge, but how can you
play if you have no cards to play with? They charge you for buying the
online decks and online booster packs. You can, of course, trade with
other people online and make the same transactions as though the cards
were real. The flaw in this, however, is how would you know whether
someone could have hacked into your account? Stealing cards and messing
around with your decks and records would create a large problem. If the
system crashed, what would happen to the cards?

To build an enterprise, you have to attract consumers. What do you do to
attract consumers? You go on television! Yu-Gi-Oh! has been eaten up by
the WB network, swallowed and put into English, and regurgitated onto
national television. The replacement voices aren’t that good. The show
doesn’t correspond to the actual game. In the show, the “Blue Eyes White
Dragon” is supposed to be this rare, rare, rare card, only four ever
created. Now, what do you see? Outside, in the park, at libraries, at
recreation centers: every kid has one. What kind of rarity is that? You
buy a Kaiba pre-made theme deck, and you get one. The real “Blue Eyes”, on
one hand, found in booster packs, is far more realistic and goes with the
show storyline way better than that of the decks. It’s worth a whopping
$40! Still, it does not have the acclaimed uniqueness as otherwise
advertised. However, it’s doing its job: getting children to tune in
every weekday afternoon, channel 20 or 15, at 4:30 PM and around 10 or 11
o’clock.

o’clock.
Magic has had little to no advertisements here in the U.S., aside from its
usual appearances in Inquest magazine and other magazines. Magic, however,
does, or might I say, did have a show airing in Canada. The network
canceled the show; I don’t know why.

canceled the show; I don’t know why.
What kind of card game doesn’t have strategy, or require cunning and mind
games?

games?

In Yu-Gi-Oh!, you can only play one creature each turn, and that hinders
the numbers strategy (the bigger the army, the more opponents there are).
Since you can’t have numbers in this game, you have to rely on powerful
creatures. Let me use everyday things to convey this more easily. Take a
mouse and a turtle. When the players start, both players may only play a
mouse, one every turn. However, if one player chooses later to play a
turtle, he/she must sacrifice a mouse to play a turtle. A turtle is bigger
and stronger than a mouse, so therefore, in a fight, the turtle would win.
Think about this for a while. On one hand, the turtle may be able to take
out several mice, thus allowing the player with the turtle to gain “card
advantage.” Card advantage is most basically defined as using fewer cards
to take out a larger number of cards. The player deduct the points by the
difference in attack points of the weaker creature, so it would look like
this:

this:

Stronger monster
– Weaker monster
Deduction of opponent’s life points

Both players start out with 8000 life points, and most monsters strength
ranges from 300 to 3000. A player can play or switch things in and out of
defense mode, which reduces the loss of life to 0. Fun mechanic, huh?

In Magic, power is called “mana,” or land. Players may play as many
creatures as their mana provides. I will use the same metaphor as I did
for Yu-Gi-Oh!: the mouse and the turtle. The mouse requires the least
mana, for it is the least powerful. However, the mouse is the faster and
easier to play of the two. In Magic, bigger is better and the more
abilities the creature has, the more mana it takes to play it. This also
applies to spells: the better the spell, the more it requires. This is a
strategy the is not used in Yu-Gi-Oh!. Let’s just say that on your first
turn, you may play a mouse. Second turn, two mice. Third turn, three mice.
Your opponent stockpiles his mana, because he/she cannot play a turtle
until the fourth or fifth turn. If you keep playing mice every turn, you
would have had 15 mice by the time that your opponent has played even one
creature. You would have an army!! In Magic, this is called time
advantage. Magic also has what Yu-Gi-Oh! has, card advantage, in the sense
that you can use a large creature to wipe out several smaller ones.

If I got anything wrong in here, contact me via e-mail or the forums.
Thanks!

Download it here