Jet rose drowsily from his bed. He placed his finger down on the button to silence the irritating chatter of the alarm. His eyes found the time and narrowed bitterly in response. It read, "8:05," in green digital format.
Despite his powerless state, he had a knack for certain things—such as sleeping through the alarm for thirty minutes straight. School had started every day at eight o’clock, and Jet was used to the routine: wake up thirty minutes late, freak out, get harassed by his family, and receive a notice of being tardy—nothing out of the ordinary.
But Jet had not been the only one who noticed the time; downstairs, just below his bedroom, his mother watched the clock in disappointment with her daughter.
Christiane’s brown eyes fell from the clock on the wall and directed them to her mother. “Can I now?” she whined.
The mother debated for a while longer. Her daughter was only doing what she would have done herself in that age—trying to be the responsible one. She couldn’t rightly accuse her of what she would have done herself. It seemed they were similar in more than just their names.
Though while there was at least a one-letter distinction in their titles, Christiana had yet to find a single difference in personality.
Her eyes found the clock once more. Christiana had a meeting to go to soon. She had left for work at the usual six in the morning with her husband but had to return home. She had forgotten an important document that she had been working so hard on, and as a result, she had found herself back home with her children.
Jet was getting to be a problem. She had the document in her hands, and the meeting requiring such documents was soon to begin. She had to leave.
Christiane was right; she couldn’t deal with Jet right now. She simply didn’t have the time for other activities. She sighed in submission upon hearing her daughter’s request. “Fine." She watched as Christiane’s eyes grew bright and quickly added, “But not if he’s out of his bed already.”
And with that, Christiana rushed out the door as Christiane rushed up the steps, stopping at the first golden-brown door just across the top of the stairs. She cracked it just enough to peer inside, frowning as she saw Jet’s feet on the ground.
Not if he’s out of his bed already, the words of her mother echoed. Well, technically, he was still sitting on his bed. It’s not like he’s out of bed. The idiot was just sitting on his mattress, keeping his gaze on the carpeted floor in some type of daze.
She watched as his eyelids closed. She smiled mischievously as she saw her chance then opened the door all the way to scream at the top of her lungs, “Time to get up!” She had inhaled a deep breath to make a high note on the word up, her octaves reaching abnormal levels, which soon squealed like the edge of nails scraping against glass.
Jet had made the mistake in reflecting just for a second on the dream he had, his eyes growing wide from the sound of the feared voice. He managed to only get up and grab his blue pillows as her deep inhale was released in the word up. He clenched the pillow tight around his ears.
Upon seeing the crevices formed in the glass objects within in his room, he wisely threw his pillow down. He dove into the covers of his bed, keeping his distance from the materials, such as his spherical overhead light, his TV across from the end of the bed, his glass window behind the side of his bed, and miscellaneous glass cups on the top of his dresser near the crackling window.
It was not much longer until the glass in his room gave way to the cry and shattered simultaneously, filling the air in a sparkling display as the shards shot out from each other.
As soon as the noise came to a stop, Jet threw the covers off and glared at his sister. “What is your problem???” he barked. “I was up!”
Christiane had watched in trepidation as she saw the tiny pieces of glass fall to the ground. She must have overdone it again. Honestly, she was finding it hard to control the octaves of her squeals.
Normally, in any other family, this accident would result in a strict punishment, but when you have a dad that can rewind movement, there wasn’t much to be concerned about in that department, only the worry of her actually hurting her brother was the result. She loved to annoy Jet and tease him a bit…but she never wanted to hurt him.
Her worry was soon replaced by surprise. The covers around her brother shoved off, causing her to jolt in response. After hearing him say he was up, she placed her hands on her hips. “You were going back to sleep!” she argued.
Jet let out an aggravated sigh. It was the same old, same old. She always managed to come at the worst times. “Just forget it!” he snapped, then snarled, “Why Lord Adonai gave you powers is a mystery!”
And why He gave it to her so prematurely was another frustration all together. Here she was only ten years of age, with a power she shouldn’t have until six more years! And here Jet was, still powerless and pathetic. It’s almost been a year since he should have received his Gift. It wasn’t fair, and her blatantly using her power around him didn’t make things any better.
Christiane glared. She understood it was hard for him to be so abnormal, but saying that she didn’t deserve her powers was going too far. “You’re just jealous! I’ll bet you stay powerless your entire life! So, tell me, how does it feel to be a day close to seventeen without powers?” she watched in satisfaction as Jet glared at the comment. Her words were getting to him. Victory belonged to her! “It’s all because you don’t deserve Lord Adonai’s Gift!”
Oh whoa…talk about going too far. She only realized her words after speaking them. Almost immediately after the lashing, she felt the pang of guilt creep in.
Jet’s gaze had fallen as he stared down quietly. “Jet, I didn’t mean—” he heard his sister try to say only for him to interrupt with a voice interlaced with pain and fury.
"Get out!"
Jet heard her footsteps leave the room as she quietly obeyed his request. He shook off the intense emotions and set about to prepare for the day, dressing himself in casual jeans and a short-sleeve, black T-shirt after taking his shower and brushing his teeth.
Afterward, his brother Sket blocked him from the stairs once again. While Sket was a twin, he wasn't completely identical to Jet anymore. Instead of solid brown hair, he had dyed-blonde highlights on the top lengths of his bangs.
Sket said he liked the look, but Jet wasn’t born yesterday. He knew the real reason for Sket dying his hair. As twins, he was always mistaken as Jet, and this was his answer for that problem.
Jet growled as he futilely tried to find a way past his brother. Why Sket all of the sudden loved to be late for school was beyond him…unless of course, it was just to pick on him.
After all, his brother would not be the first so hell-bent to tease him. By now, it had become an abnormality to have just one person not belittle him. “Move already! I need to get to school!” he yelled impatiently.
“Race ya down!” Only a blur could be seen as Sket raced down the steps, then out the door at bullet speed.
Jet slumped down the stairway and out the door—now alone on his walk to school—his mood foul and bitter. He might as well just call himself an Earthian!
Now, between the Sacred Markings given to him and the beautiful world of Nebulan, there really was so much to be thankful for, but Jet just couldn’t seem to get past the one thing he didn’t receive from Lord Adonai—his Gift.
It was believed by the Nebulanians that every being is given an ability that helps them accomplish their desire—that at the age of sixteen He grants everyone with a power… but yet Jet… he received no power whatsoever… no Gift.
It’s all because you don’t deserve Lord Adonai’s Gift! Was that really the case; was his sister right? He wanted so badly to throw that repulsive thought aside, but for now it was his only explanation. Am I just trash… Is it me? Do I even deserve a Gift…?
Ask someone else! I’m... Jet had hesitated, despising the conflicting thoughts.... I’m just not enough! It felt so real—his dream… He shook his head profu
sely. It was a dream and nothing more!
He remained in that state of mind until the warmth of his markings grew as they brightened into a soft glow. No, my son, you must believe. Focus on your dream and its valued words.
Jet stood there frozen in shock. There was no doubt their God had just spoken to him; the warmth he felt from his markings was proof enough…
Nostalgia struck him as a side of him, which was burdened by the continuous rejection received at school, accepted the idea of being given a Gift. But another side of him, fearing and doubting his own capability, disliked the thought that the entire world depended on him and the choices he was to make.
It was amazing how just one year could change someone so drastically. There had been a time when Jet could have easily welcomed a challenge with open arms—a time when Jet had great faith in his capabilities.
But now, after feeling the sting of disapproval—after experiencing the rejection of the school, he wasn’t so sure of himself anymore. His confidence in himself shattered, and after the loathsome experience, his subconscious grew to hate his being. By now, he would shudder at just the thought of someone depending on him—the boy who could get nothing right!
Jet clenched the black strap on his book bag. It was obvious the message given to him was important, but at this point…he had to wonder why their God chose such a hopeless creation.
Still, a side of him kept hoping for a Gift—desiring to take back the reputation he once had in school.
But the solution to his previous problem led to dealing with all the conflict in the world.
These complex thoughts raced in his mind as he kept his eyes glued to the ground—time forgotten as his eyes kept on the grass, lost in a heavy contemplative struggle.
Do you not trust in your God...? Jet’s eyes widened. Again, the very Creator of all things spoke to him. The tone of his Father’s voice ripped at Jet’s heart. His comforting yet firm gaze flew to the sky. NO! I trust You… I’ll always trust You! You’ve given me no reason not to. I believe in You with all my being! His gaze faltered back to the ground. I just…don’t trust in myself.
It was quiet—the wind staying eerily silent, not daring to interrupt such a talk. Jet’s gaze fell to his opened hands, glaring lightly at them in disapproval as time slowly went by.
You speak lies. Jet’s eyes widened then shot his gaze back up. I lie not! he cried, I meant every—but he was interrupted from his response as the voice of Lord Adonai bellowed, Don’t be a fool!
Jet flinched as the wind picked up to high speeds, the trees falling victim to its vigor. The wind soon subsided, unlike Jet’s heartbeat, which still pounded furiously in response.
A moment of silence fell between the two, leaving Jet to his deep breaths. It was at that moment Jet felt the familiar warmth grow against him again. This time, however, the soothing warmth had not just grown on his markings but had submerged around his entire self. It was as if his Father had actually reached out and embraced him.
Jet closed his eyes peacefully, his frantic pulse slowing to a steady beat. God spoke again, His voice a soft whisper. My child… For you to trust in the Creator, you must trust in yourself. Jet’s eyes opened in shock of the truth before him. He looked toward the sky with a speechless gaze.
For you to love the Creator, you must love what He creates. I am the one who made you—I have given this purpose to you. And I, in whom you say you have faith and love, now ask of you to have faith in My judgment. How will you answer to My decision?
The very presence of the Almighty had purified his unfaithful thoughts and the words previously spoken had opened Jet’s eyes to a brighter world, a much more peaceful mentality—God had picked him. He could’ve picked any other child of Nebulan for the prophecy, but He picked him.
Jet could almost laugh at the previously doubtful side of himself. He was a child of God. How dare he even think for a second that he wasn’t worthy enough for attention? If that hadn’t been enough, he was chosen by God, Himself, to be the Anointed.
He smiled brightly, looking back up at the clouds with renewed eyes of faith as he gave a nod and smiled. You are the One who makes no mistakes… I will abide by your will.
The warmth grew to an even higher level as Jet felt the smile of God shining down on him. I’m glad you have chosen My way. Lord Adonai’s warmth faded as Jet felt His solemn gaze. However, it is easier to agree with Me during times of peace. When turmoil comes, you must keep the faith you feel now. Never forget this moment. The fates of the people on this planet depend on it. Now go and focus on the dream’s precious words.
A dark figure in a green cape watched the child known as Jet from the shadows of a cursed world. “He has received the words from Lord Adonai,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion.
Another man’s slender yet strong figure gave a slight sigh before replying in a silky and smooth voice. “So one of the seven hindrances is soon to awaken.”
The figure watched as the green-caped being gave a calm nod. “Indeed… What are your orders, my lord?”
The slender figure stood from his spot. “Tell your master of this news.” His eyes narrowed in rage and amusement. “The fool of a God can only speak once to only one of the Chosens. He no longer has a means of contacting the boy to warn him of our attack.“
“I want you to take Gabren, Murdor, and Kila as your subordinates. Sin lives in all beings, my pet…that sin lives even so in the hearts of all Nebulanians. Gather their transgressions once more and destroy Nebulan’s infernal barrier once and for all.”
“But what of the Divinity? Is he not Lord Adonai’s trump card? Will he not be able to tell the boy of our invasion?”
The slender figure gave a sly smile. “That obstacle was crossed long ago. He, along with other Divinities, was sealed by Ion’s power. Now, go and prepare your group.”
The slender silhouette watched the green-cloaked creature give another bow in response and hover away.
When the figure was completely alone, he stepped down from his throne, toward the edges of a sea of neon violet, of which the other figure had been staring into. The sea rippled vigorously. Through its tremors, an image of one golden accessory, became evident within the murky water. “Heaven’s Bracelet—without this the Chosens cannot fully awaken.”
The water trembled once more, replacing the image of the bracelet with Jet leaning against a tree, looking down in deep thought. “So, Anointed,” the man’s lips slowly rose to an amused smile, “how will you do it? Will you dare to take back the bracelet?”
Jet obeyed the last words God gave him and fell deep into his own thoughts that surrounded his previous dream. He remembered Warpup’s words perfectly. The problem was, the dream's totality brought a frightening message—Warpup’s words allowed Jet to assume that the reason he was going to be given a Gift was to fight these demons mentioned in the dream. “Dark Demons.”
Lord Adonai spoke his last words. He was incapable of providing anymore answers for Jet. This, too, was in a well-told prophesy—that the markings of only one could bear the intense yet limited presence of Lord Adonai; any more than that limit resulted in that Nebulanian’s death. But if the Almighty couldn’t answer him any longer, how was he to find the answers?
“Hey, Jet!” The abrupt noise caused all of Jet’s muscles to tense, his eyes locking onto the boy’s ocean blue ones. He sighed in relief. Just Clyde.
The boy had wavy-blonde hair and bore fangs. All Gifts were given through the markings of the Nebulanian; some provided an element the Nebulanian’s could manipulate or cast, and others also spurred a transformation in physical appearance. Clyde’s unique Gift granted him with grape-purple wings and a tail, each like that of a dragon.
Jet glared lightly at his only friend. “Just what are you trying to pull, Clyde?” he wheezed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” Jet breathed roughly.
Clyde smiled apologetically after witnessing Jet’s reaction. “Sorry, but ya seemed so deep in thought. Somethin
g on your mind?”
Jet smiled in appreciation, but when he opened his mouth to confide in his friend, he only closed it tightly again. To reveal such a problem, wouldn’t that only involve his friend in the same danger he now faced? No, he simply couldn’t tell Clyde.
However, the task of shaking off Clyde’s investigational skills wasn’t going to be easy. Clyde always cared so much about Jet’s conflicts. And even if Jet kept it secret from him, he’d try so hard to figure it out, so he could be some help for his downtrodden friend.
Sure enough, as Clyde witnessed Jet fall back into thought, he raised a brow. Something kept his friend from confiding in him.
What was the number-one thing that Jet had trouble with most and was comfortable talking to him about? Bingo! Clyde’s widened eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is it her?”
Jet sighed. He and his friend went through this question almost daily. And usually, yes, it would be her on his mind. He just couldn’t believe how abruptly they had left him—she and her brother. Where did they have to go so urgently? And why have they remained there for so long?
This time, though, his thoughts were on something much more ominous…
As mentioned before: Clyde wasn’t the type of guy to leave a friend to worry. If he said no to the problem being her, Clyde would ask more questions until he understood the real problem. It would only be a matter of time before Jet cracked.
So Jet put on his mask. “I miss her…” He sighed deeply. “It’s been close to a year. I know she’s got big responsibilities—being who she is and all, but just what could take almost a whole year of her attention?”
Clyde sighed irritably. “She’s needed elsewhere. We just have to be patient, that’s all. I’m sure she misses you, too, though.” Clyde’s eyes narrowed. “Now, give me the real reason why you’re so lost in thought.”
H-he knows?! …No…keep up the act just in case. “What?” Jet asked in a stupor. “That is the real reason. Why else wouldn’t it be?” Jet asked, his lips curving down to a confused frown.