“…been chosen to save the…”

“…great responsibility…”

“…world rests in your…

Yep, I knew it.

As I sit here on the cold stone of the summoning circle I have to lament.

It’s a cliché fantasy hero summoning. Not to say I have ever experienced one before, but I am more than familiar with the concept. I am, or was, a perfectly normal high schooler until about three minutes prior to right now.

I was sitting in class minding my own business when their was a sudden flash of light, the inexplicable taste of purple, and the next thing I knew I was standing in a great big throne room that wouldn’t have looked out of place in any number of fantasy cliché castles. It even had an old dude with a beard and a crown ready to monologue.

Oh what, you think this story requires more context? More backstory?

Fine, let’s recap.

My classmates and I were having a quiet lunch. I say quiet because there were only four of us in class today, what with it being the last day of the semester and the only people who would show up to that being incredibly forthright and studious (The others) or having parents who believed we should have those traits (Me). Having finished my mother’s love filled but still somewhat dry sandwiches, I packed away my lunchbox before putting my head down, content to ignore my classmates and be ignored in turn.

Now I know what you’re thinking, oh great a snarky loner who likes to monologue, never seen that before, please tell us about how people suck, everyone is a sheep and how your parents didn’t love you enough.

First of all fuck you, hypothetical you snarky bastard. My parents were kind loving souls… not outstandingly amazing I will admit, but I always had a packed lunch and clean undies so I’m not ungrateful for their presence in my life.

Second of all I will have you know I do have friends who I get along with quite amiably, as they appreciate my razor wit, and I appreciate their willingness to put up with my razor wit.

Finally I admit I think a lot of people do suck and don’t think about thinking enough (The word is ‘mindful’), but there are also a lot of really cool people in the world who do a lot of really great things with their lives. I have no intention of imitating them though, too much work.

So ha, I’m not all jaded and shit!

So before you make your hypothetical snarky observations of me being a cliché anti-social loner I will elaborate on my need for isolation and the aforementioned head-desk interaction. The reason for my need for isolation was located roughly three desks across and one ahead.

Three desks across and one ahead was Ray, standing there chatting away amiably (or being chatted ‘at’ depending on your level of cynicism) with Kate, Sarah and Jennifer, all of them his good friends and each representing a different female dynamic (Sporty, cool and motherly respectively).

The clique centered on him, and I think you know where I’m going with this. They were discussing his plans for the coming weekend. All the girls seemed interested in a nearby theme park and had apparently independently approached him to ask him to accompany them. Ray was happy to oblige, and had suggested they all go together, which none of the girls were happy with. Ray, being the kindhearted oblivious soul he is was confused as to why the girls didn’t want to go as a group.

Now in case you haven’t realized by now, Ray is what could be described as a harem protagonist. He is kind hearted and socially oblivious in equal measure. I along with the majority of the male population of our year hate his guts on principal alone.

Is it petty of us to hate his good fortune? Yes, yes it is.

Does knowing that make it easier to do nothing but watch in impotent jealousy as three beautiful girls practically throw themselves at him day after day?

No, no it does not.

The reason I am trying to avoid him is that Ray believes we are friends, best buds even, and by extension his harem does too. It has probably never occurred to him that I have my own circle of friends and really share nothing in common with him. As far as he is concerned I’m some kind of loner who’s only friend is him, and he is helping me out by involving me. In other words if this were an anime, then I am that token male friend.

Now I reiterate the guy is a nice guy underneath his social awareness ineptitude, but really kind of annoying when you want to be left alone and not treated like some kind of sidekick. I again point out the above ‘harem protagonist’, impotent jealousy issue.

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So by pretending to sleep on the desk I am avoiding that horrible fate of him also inviting me to the park and me inevitably being the third (or inevitably fifth) wheel to his little harem outing. And no, I can’t just say no when he asks. He becomes even more persistent when that happens. I speak from experience.

So with that shred of context out of the way, it was exactly as my head hit the desk that ‘it’ happened.

At first, it felt like slight tremors but before I could get up and assumedly begin flailing in panic, I was hit by a wave of nausea, dizziness and the taste of the color purple. To those of you who say you can’t taste the color purple, trust me, you will know it when you taste it.

The ground seemed to twist, the air flickered, simmered and shifted, the world whorled in spirals and then I was blinded by an immense light. I collapsed like a sack of potatoes at that point and really wished this had happened pre-lunch. I will admit to maybe a little screaming, but I can assure you it was very manly screaming. Distinctly masculine would probably be the word.

After an indeterminate time had passed and I was all screamed out, I realized the world had stopped shaking and colors were no longer quantifiable as flavor. I slowly regained my footing with as much dignity as I could, praying no one had witnessed my regression to a five year old girl. I was quickly disappointed as I realized that ahead of me, I could hear other people shuffling as they regained their own footing.

“Is everyone ok?” I heard Ray’s voice. As I looked up I saw he was helping up Sarah and looking at Jennifer, Sarah and myself. I briefly pondered a triple homicide suicide to cover up my indiscretion but reconsidered it when it occurred to me that while I could probably take all of the others, Kate could probably snap my spine with one arm. Ray was also too nice a guy to ever actually mock me anyway.

“Did anyone else taste the color purple?” I asked, if only to point out that no matter what happened if you hadn’t tasted the color purple then you can’t judge a man for screaming when it happened. Also I may have been in a little bit of shock and the taste of the color purple seemed incredibly important at that moment in time.

“Luke?” Ray asked through the haze we found ourselves in. The air was swirly with greyish blue smoke and occasionally bright blue sparks seemed to light up. It seemed a distinctly unhealthy place to be and it most definitely was not classroom 3-F.

The floor was stone and despite the fact that I had been pressing my face to it moments ago, I couldn’t remember when that transition had taken place. Floor texture seems like such an inconsequential thing when you think you’re having a stroke.

However, before I could ponder the situation further a feminine voice cut through the smoke, “It seems we have succeeded in our endeavor.”

It wasn’t a voice I recognized. The tone was cool and collected but it carried an undertone of weariness.

“What is happening?” Sarah asked and I actively resisted the urge to snark, when a distinctly masculine voice boom aloud, “Welcome heroes, to our world Pangea.” The voice echoed strongly as the smoke began to clear out. I could see the ceiling now and it was really fucking high, to put it poetically. The lighting was surprisingly good considering it was coming from torches placed into the walls, I was in such shock that it seemed only mildly surprising that the flames were blue. Really after tasting the color purple, nothing else can really compare.

It may sound strange but by this point I had already accepted some magical shit had gone on. I blame video games.

The ground itself I noted was covered in weird symbols that glowed and were painful to look after a while at. The voice didn’t seem to care for my mild existential crisis and continued on.

“It is with great need and dire circumstances that we have summoned you-”

Yep, back where we started. Context out of the way, we can continue with our story.

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