*pop*
“What the-... Bubbles?”
*pop*
A middle-aged blonde american male wearing a camera around his neck exclaims, clearly confused from waking up to an unfamiliar location, and thus questions his surroundings. The American quickly scramble to his feet, panicking he stands up a bit to fast.
Black spots fill his vision, and a small but sharp burst of pain shots through his head. With his restricted vision the American’s sees 3 blurry shapes, 2 of them are obviously people judging from their movements. Desperate for answers the American grasps his head in pain he begins to move towards the 2 figures, only to lose his balance and fall hilariously flat on his face.
“Damn it, I feel like shit-.” The American growls curses through his teeth before rubbing is his head agitatedly. Wising up the American decides to stand up slowly this time and heads over to the 2 figures whom are currently bickering for some stupi- incomprehensible reason.
The first figure was a young pregnant woman with pink hair and dark brown skin. While the other figure was a old man with a sickly pale complexion, the wrinkles covering his face mostly obscuring his bright blue eyes. Fearful of the ferocity of the couple the American skirts around them toward what appears to be a mish- mash of books, computers and random techni-colored paper shewn about randomly.
The American noticed that on one of the numerous screens type was forming documenting his actions and reactions, he found this extremely disturbing and started backing away. While retreating from the mass-collection machine, the American stumbles back but quickly regains his footing.
“Tsk, What a shame, I was looking forward to an encore, Tourist.” Shows up on one of my larger screens.
Feeling both freaked out and annoyed, Tourist turns about looking for anyone that can answer his questions, hoping to find someone other than the troublesome couple or the sassy computer. Alas, he finds nothing but an expanse of white in every direction, and mentally steels himself as he heads towards the bickering couple once more.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Unhelpful bubbles float around ignorant of the both the Tourist’s and the couple’s plight.
“I’m so happy I installed those, It makes everything better.” Flashes across my screen/face in delight as Tourist turns away from me. He begins awkwardly attempting to get their attention in a ‘polite manner’ which seems to involve an elaborate ritual of Ah’s, Umm’s, and a set of jerking and frantic hand motions done while scooching in a circle around one’s targets.
Amazingly, this did eventually get my annoying blockheaded fellow godes’ attention, but not before I recorded a solid 3 minutes worth of the Tourist acting like a complete buffoon.
Hot Mess and Sickly Sage gave poor Tourist the common excuse that they messed up and his death was an accident. He acted predictably and got angry… no frustrated, he isn’t really ‘angry’ after all no matter where or when a human lives they always want something they don’t have. So the Tourist just like every human thus far was easily bought by them satisfied to be reincarnated into the world of Arcadia, with a handful of special skills and the title ‘Hero’.
Ah, poor Tourist unaware that for us gods the word ‘Hero’ means pawn, and the more power given to a pawn only serves as a leash to keep him under their thumb.
They walk up to me to finalise their ‘deal’. Although I realise there’s not much I can do to change their agreement I tamper with it saying that his soul is to “heavy” and that he needs to “lighten the load of a few memories.”
Thankfully, Humans are stupid and Gods are cocky so they didn’t pick up on the lie.
The Tourist threw away many memories mostly stuff he never bothered to remember things like old homework mostly English papers, random internet searches, cram sessions, food stuffs, in other words miscellaneous information.
They all figured that nothing much could be done with that ‘trash’, but the other gods have forgotten how resourceful I can be.
While reincarnating Tourist with most of his memories into a powerful, golden eyed ‘Hero of Light’, I sent out his forsaken memories in small letters. Few can open another’s memory letters, even fewer could endure the pressure of the information, in the end only 3 children whom I bestowed the letters to survived. All 3 children bore very little mana, hoping to increase their likelihood of survival just a little more I bestowed my blessings upon them.
To each one I shall bestow a different ability:
* To see all truths that lie hidden.
* To see all that is not and no longer.
* To see where the untrend path leads.
I too am a God, even if only of Records, as such even I need a ‘Hero’ if I am to fight… no play against the other Gods.