Chapter 1
“The night sky was as dark as velvet cloth without the moon and the stars to set a glow on the world. With every gust of wind there was a howl between the buildings like that of an old wolf that had lost its mate many years before. Moist droplets filled the air and clung to every solid object they could find. There were puddles on the pavement from the storm earlier in the day but it was quiet now. Most everyone had gone to bed and sound asleep dreaming of their fantasies and unmentionable things that wandered about in the mind while the body slumbers. Except for two Elves’ who were running about like chickens with their heads cut off. Paramour was in labor and there was not much time to spare the child would be coming soon. Gavin rushed to get blankets in the back of the hover van. The screams of the female Elf echoed down the alley ways like bats in flight upon the new setting sun. They bounced off the brick and steal buildings making their way through the city until they no longer had any power to continue sailing on the sea of air. The Pigeons awoke in the old bell tower just long enough to know it was still the late hours of night. Gavin felt a strange sensation as if someone was watching him but the only person he saw was the old drunk huddled up in the alley under a cardboard box placed carefully into the dumpster lid in order to create a shelter that would hold the weather off. Although the box was beginning to soak through the drunk was still dry under the many layers of plastic that he used as blankets. Gavin once again disappeared into the antique revolving door and charged up the five stories of stairs to the apartment in which he lived with Paramour. His long golden hair lifted off his shoulders as he made his way up the stairs. His pale blue eyes were heavy from tiredness. He looked older then most Elves of his age with his skin wrinkled like that of a seventy year old man. Yet Gavin was not quite one hundred and fifty years of age, which is rather young for an Elf. He burst into the apartment and paused only long enough to take a deep breathe and then he grabbed the rest of the things that had to go with them and rushed them down to the hover van as well. Again he felt that strange sensation as if he were being watched but did not bother to look around this time figuring he would see the same things he saw before, besides there was no time for that. When he returned to the apartment he found Paramour bent over on her hands and knees grabbing at her stomach. She let out a yell that could have made a deaf man hear again. Gavin was not fazed as he lifted her up and carried her down to the chariot that would deliver her to the hospital on time. The streets were empty and as soon as Gavin had her comfortably placed in the hover van he jumped in the driver’s seat and forced the key into the ignition hole. The old beast cranked over three times and then backfired. The backfire sounded like a small bomb exploding and shook windows that panes had begun to deteriorate in. After a few curses in the Elven language the vehicle fired and the engine knocked slowly at first gradually growing faster until the hammering of the engines were in unison and smooth. Gavin slammed the van into gear and headed toward the hospital at twice the speed that was allowed with in the city. The lights from the street flashed like a strobe in the back of the van, making Paramour nauseous along with the pains of labor. As they sped through the city Gavin noticed red and blue flashing lights. He paid no further attention to them and accelerated towards the hospital. With four police cars in tow he pulled up to the emergency entrance of the hospital. Nothing was said to him as he took his wife from the van and took her inside. The officers only had to see the anguish in her face to know that this time it was ok to let the law be broken. They barely got her into a room when the head of the baby began to show. The nurses rushed to get everything that would be needed for the delivery. Paramour although she was in great pain and not of the best demeanor was more beautiful then any mortal woman had ever dreamed of. Her pale white skin looked like silk and her green eyes glowed brighter then any emerald. Her lips were full but yet petite. Her facial features were finely chiseled with great definition along the jaw and the cheek bones. Her hair was blonde in color but it was a light blonde and was nearly white except for the yellow highlights that streaked through here and there. She screamed out in pain as the child made its way into the world. After the nurses and doctors had checked the child over they handed him to his mother. His skin was darker then his mothers and fathers and had a slight blue tint to it. She spoke to him say welcome to the world my son Lazmora. And that is how I came to be.” Lazmora said with a tooth showing grin.
“How is it that you can know so much detail about your own birth?” The Woman Psychiatrist questioned.
“Well because I was there watching the whole thing from the shadows.” Lazmora replied.
“So you’re saying you can remember all this detail even though you were still in your mother’s womb?” She asked somewhat dumbfounded.
“No! You idiot of a mortal I was there standing in the background watching my own birth not more then a year ago!” Lazmora screamed back. If he was not in the straight jacket he probably would have reached out and slapped her for her stupidity.
“How is that possible?” She continued to ask.
“Do I have to explain all of this to you again? Very well try to keep up this time. I was born in the year four thousand seven hundred and fifty six. Got that now? Due to a Ceatrean by the name of Fazz placing an explosive on a prototype time machine there are rips in the space time continuum. You’re still with me right? Anyways I stepped through one and was transported to the time of my birth. I will give you more details on a later day but I believe this session is over and I am so hungry for that little pill that is suppose to make me drool on myself I just can not wait.” Lazmora answered in a sarcastic tone.
The doctor nodded knowing he was correct and pushed a button under the drawer of her desk. Two large men entered the room; they made most men look like dwarves, ducking under the top of the door way they made their way over to Lazmora. Their arms alone were the size of tree trunks, not these small trees that are left today but those massive monsters that use to be. Both men were near eight feet tall and their faces were somber. The man on the left pulled out some cord from his pocket and lashed Lazmora to the wheelchair that he had been sitting in. Lazmora smiled up at him as he tightened the cord. Alan was the name on the tag he wore and his partners name was Jacob. Their white jackets left little to the imagination as their muscles rippled under the tight cloth.
“Good afternoon gentlemen.” Lazmora spoke with a grin on his face.
“Keep silent, we are not going to tolerate any trouble from you.” Jacob retorted.
“Oh you so hurt me. You don’t even know me that well yet and you judge me. I am quite hurt by this judgment.” Lazmora continued to taunt.
“We know enough about you to know you are a danger to everyone around you.” Alan replied.
“Well I see they wanted men who could over power me so they rented a couple of professional wrestlers to keep me under control. Unlike those two children they had earlier. Speaking of which were they able to sew Joe’s ear back on? I am sure there was nothing they could do about his left eye but I am sure they could give him a glass one but I doubt they could repair it in anyway.” Lazmora laughed like a man possessed.
The two men wheeled the chair into the hall as Lazmora laughed hysterically. The hall was dull white with florescent lights flickering and glowing. The vibrant colored abstract pictures on the wall were a direct contradiction to the practice of curing the insane. To see the true vision in the art one would have to be as insane as the artist that painted the distorted and obnoxious pictures. Lazmora’s mind began to wander to thoughts of the past, his child hood to be exact. School had been a horrid place to be with his blue tainted skin. Not one child in the entire school was kind to him and even less kind were the adults that were there to protect the children. He took the abuses of the other children all through his years in elementary. Each day he was taunted, beaten, shunned, or exiled from the playground. Not once did a tear fill his eyes, but hatred began to fill his heart. Although he was the brunt of jokes and punished for the actions of the other children he was quite an intelligent child. He learned mathematics at a college level at the age of eight and had passed most classes that the graduates had problems with by the time he was thirteen. His true loves were mechanics and scientific studies. He was able to convince the science professor to let him experiment with many different things and created a thermal generator that was powered by the air around it. The more he did the more he was cursed and hackled by the other students. On his sixteenth birthday he was confronted in the hall by the biggest meanest of all the students in the school. No one dared cross this brute of a teenager. Lazmora stood before this giant monster and did not tremble.
“Give me all the money you have on you freak of I will pound you to mush and flush you with my crap.” The bully said in a low but stern tone.
“No, you won’t get my money and you won’t pound me to mush.” Lazmora answered in a timid voice.
“What did you say?” The bully said as he leaned in and cupped his hand over his ear.
“You heard me say no you son of a bitch!” Lazmora yelled at the top of his lungs after he had leaned up to the bully’s ear.
The bully lunged back and let out a howl of pain as his hand covered his ear now. Without a word the brute punched Lazmora on top of the head driving him to the floor. Lazmora stood up after the strike and brushed the dust from his cloths. He saw in his mind the massive fist coming toward his face again. Instinctively he moved to the left and the fist slid past him almost as if in slow motion. Again in his mind he saw the brute spin around striking with the back of his fist. This time Lazmora ducked under the fist and punched the monster under the arm pit and then again in the kidney. The crowd began to gather around the two combatants. With a flurry of punches the bully tried to hit Lazmora but Lazmora seemed to know every attack the brute was going to use before he did and was able to dodge and counter with devastating blows of his own. The school bully had broken three knuckles on his right hand when he missed and struck the lockers. The door on the locker folded over around the brutes hand and stuck to it when he pulled back. While the bully tried to remove the locker door from his hand Lazmora spun around and flipped backwards, his feet caught the brute under the chin. When Lazmora landed on his feet the brute was falling to the floor, his head bounced twice on the marble and blood poured from the gash the floor had made. He laid there lifeless in the silence of the school halls. Immediately Lazmora was expelled and had to explain to his father what had happened. After everything was discussed his parents decided he should be home schooled. They taught him of the old ways that they once lived. They told of the Arcane Revolution.
The Arcane Revolution was a group of people who had decided to build a time machine and would eventually travel time and make great discoveries and guide the governments to better ways to live. They taught him everything from the names of the leaders including Dr. Thomas Alexander to the details of the over all mission of the Arcane Revolution. His father taught him about the Psyche power he possessed and called it know attack. He also taught him how to convert his power into energy to power weapons and how to levitate objects. His lessons no longer revolved around the basic classes of a public school, but rather it became lessons in combat, power enhancement, scientific studies above a college level, and the study of Arcane Revolution Missions both failed and achieved. His mother taught him of the fall of the group and of Fazz who had blown the prototype time machine up. She also taught him about space and time rips that had occurred when the explosion torn the machine apart. Lazmora could see in his mind every detail of the battles and the details of the explosion. He then realized his parents and himself were the only Arcane left. He could not comprehend how they could follow the teachings of an ancient group that had not existed since one thousand nine hundred and ninety nine. Although the hunt of the Arcane members were still in effect there had not been an execution of one since two thousand twelve and there were no details of any captures since that time. So in his mind how could it be possible for them to be Arcane? The answer came six months later when his father told him about the day back in one thousand nine hundred ninety nine when his mother and father had entered the time machine on a routine mission only eight months prior to the explosion, unfortunately they could not return to the time they had left. He told of a man with skin not much different then Lazmora’s own skin. His name was Lav and he had become good friends with Gavin and his wife. He was the one who convinced them that time travel would have no harm on them. Gavin reached up and touched his face and then looked at Lazmora and touched his skin.
It was six months later his parents vanished and were never seen again. At seventeen he knew they must have stepped through a rip and he would have to take the print of the time machine and fix what Fazz had done. He studied the lay out and every detail of the schismatic and every detail of the blue print. He had every detail in his mind and knew he could never forget this information it was far too important to let go of.
A shove from Alan broke Lazmora out of his memory trance. Lazmora shed his straight jacket without any help and threw it down in the wheel chair. He turned and looked at the two men, smiled, and walked backwards into his padded room.
“Be sure to lock it up tight boys I would hate to have anyone come in and molest me while I slept!” Lazmora said tauntingly.
The door slammed shut and the clicking of locks echoed through the padded room like a rubber ball thrown into a cement box that was no longer full of friction. Lazmora smiled at the walls and then curled up into a fetal position in the center of the room and fell asleep.