Ascendance The Original Lands Book 1

Sitting in class is never a fun experience for any teen. That includes myself, especially when that class is algebra. I'm average in everything but math, as is normal for teens.

In all honesty, I'd rather be sitting at home playing my games or reading through several of my favorite novels. Instead, I endure this class that promises a better future for myself.

At least, my mother promised it would help. So being the obedient son that I am, I sit here through the torture of Mr. Llarue and his equations.

Only good thing about this class is it's the last class of the day.

I slowly slid my fingers into my pocket, pulling out my touchscreen phone, I pushed the button turning the display on.

Three-o'clock, I read on the screen.

A loud smack on my desk snatches me back to reality. I look up to see Mr. Llarue standing in front of me, his yard stick resting on the edge of my desk.

Well, at the very least I know what made the loud sound.

"Anything you want to share with the class, Mr. Larouge?" Mr. Llarue asks me, one eyebrow reaching towards the heavens with his sharp eyes shooting me the question.

I grinned sheepishly, unable to think of a witty remark, while locking my screen and sliding the phone back into my pocket.

"Next time I catch you with it out, it's mine." says Mr. Llaure, removing his stick from my desk and heading back towards the front of the classroom.

I chance a glance over at my best friend, Allen, and see his body shaking slightly with his head down on his desk. Figures, he thoroughly enjoys every chance he gets to laugh at my distress, to an extent.

I understand though, I've had my share of laughter at his misfortunes. In the end, all of it is harmless fun. Though I'm sure he'll bring this up later.

…

Fifteen minutes later, the bell rung. Signaling the end of a long school day and week.

I got out of my seat, mimicking other students in pulling my backpack over my shoulders and heading towards the door.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to the image of Allen staring at me, his imperfect crooked lips twisted in a lopsided grin.

My face turned a slight shade of red as I remembered what his grin was aimed at.

"I see Mr. Llaure was after you again, Seb." Allen stated as he approached. His backpack hanging over his shoulder. He weaved through a pair of girls to reach me, upsetting them and giving him dirty looks.

He turned and gave them a sheepish grin as he continued on his journey to make fun of me.

"Yeah, I'm ready to get home. My mind was on the time all through out that class. He caught me at an unfortunate time." I said as Allen caught up to me.

Together, we turned and headed for our lockers. Allen and I came up to the school together and we were able to get our lockers beside each other.

We reached the lockers in the crowded student halls in no time.

I quickly entered my code into the lock and unlocked the safe, putting several books inside.

"Don't you just love when homework is noticeably absent on Fridays?" Allen said, pulling forward a change in topic.

"Heh, yeah. It's going to be a great weekend for gaming, reading, and napping." I said, turning and giving Allen one of my smirks, daring him to challenge me.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at me but not taking up my challenge.

"I was thinking we could do some Call of Duty co-op," he offered, shutting his locker and looking towards me.

I puffed air back and forth in my cheeks, as if rolling something around in my mouth.

I closed my eyes for a split second.

"I'd be down for that for sure." I agreed, turning towards him.

He offered his fist out in a bump. I responded and gave him a soft one.

"Zombies? Or just campaign?" He asked.

I rose an eyebrow as I looked at him incredulously. "Why not both?" He nodded, accepting the answer.

Together, we turned from our lockers and headed towards the school parking lot, where my mother waited for me and Allen in her 09' minivan.

I opened the passenger side door, tossed my backpack in, and hopped in the front seat, while Allen slide open the side door and jumped in behind me. My mom looked at me warmly and I returned her look with a smile.

"Did you boys have a good day at school," she asked, as she set the van into "drive" and turned us towards the road that would get us home within minutes.

I sighed and leaned back against my seat, my head resting against the worn headrest. "I suppose so, I can't complain really-"

Then Allen butted in, chuckling a bit, "You can complain, Mr. Llaure called you out in front of the whole class actually."

I sighed and softly pinched the bridge of my nose. "I mean, it kind of was my fault. But he didn't have to smack my desk like he did. Nearly gave me a heart attack."

"What'd you do?" My mother asked, her long c.h.e.s.tnut brown hair resting atop her head in a well-groomed bun, with a few stands hovering in front of her crystal blue eyes. The same color I have.

"I didn't do anything really." I averted my eyes from my mother, who rotated between looking at me and the road. "I didn't do anything but pull my phone out and check the time." I corrected.

My mother slowly shook her head. "He didn't take your phone, did he?" She asked.

I shook my head. "Nope, just gave me a warning. Though he did tell me next time, it'd be his."

The van stopped and turned the corner, heading down a road leading to the dead end road where we stayed.

Houses seemed to flow by as the van moved at a measured speed. I pulled down the sun visor, looking into the mirror as I did. My mother's crystal blue eyes stared back at me as I looked at myself. My unkept dirty blond hair growing slightly out, with my ears standing out and looking almost pointed.

"Thank god for the weekend," I grinned as I raised the visor back up. I twisted in my seat and looked at Allen, who was being unusually quiet.

I frowned slightly, looking at him as our eyes met. "What are ya being quiet for?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Just a bit tired I suppose. It's been a long week and I'm just glad it's over."

I nodded in understanding, completely getting his meaning. "That's understandable. This week was pretty annoying." He didn't reply.

Minutes later, my mom pulled the van into the driveway of our two bedroom home. A small house for a small family that wasn't good nor bad to live in. My father was a marine, he died several years ago in Afghanistan while on tour. He was apart of a guard detail for a convoy carrying aid to a small village, when the convoy was attacked and raided by insurgents. The convoy made it to its destination in the end, however there were casualties. My father included.

My mother hasn't dated since, though not because a lack of suitors or interest. She was beautiful by modern standards. She once told me a year ago about how she still thinks about my father, when we had a talk about romance. There was a girl I crushed on, and I made the mistake of asking her for advice. She told me all about my father, and what he had done to win her over. They've dated for years, since their high school days.

In the end, I never managed to garner up the courage to ask her out, but we are friends now. That's good enough for me.

My father actually took mom to prom, she told me. He showed up in a green tux, that his father, my grandfather, passed down to him. It still had a charming look to it, she had told me.

I think what hurts my mother the most is she never got to put the ring on. My father had proposed and their wedding was due for when he returned off tour.

My mom has the ring to this day.

Car doors opening pull me out of my thoughts, I looked to see mom getting out and shutting the door. Allen followed suit, heaving the large van side door open and, with little effort, pulling his backpack over his shoulder and exited through the opening. Then closing the door moments later.

I mimicked my mother, opening and exiting the van and then shutting the door. I stretched, extending my arms to the fullest and releasing a refreshing yawn as my elbows popped softly.

Allen, hearing the pop, shook his head and tossed me a grin.

"I'm gonna go ahead and get home, Seb," he said to me as he tossed his hand up in a half-hearted wave. "Send me a text or give me a call later, we've got killing to plan and snacks to buy tomorrow," he added as he turned and headed towards the sidewalk that would lead to his home three houses down.

I gave him a wave as I turned towards my small home, heading up from the driveway and following a path leading up to the front door. Mom had already made it inside while Allen and I said our goodbyes.

I opened the door and stepped inside, my mom was in the kitchen. Hearing the door open, she poked her head out.

"Whatcha want for dinner?" she asked, a curious look on her face.

I shrugged, that's really not a question you can ask me in seconds and expect a quick or appropriate answer.

"I guess something easy on you." I replied casually. I wasn't too picky on food, though I didn't eat much. Not because I want to starve myself or anything, but because I have just no appetite.

My mom loves to cook, she works nearby at a diner as a chef. The only female to cook there actually. Everybody knows her and loves her cooking. I think sometimes, it disappoints her that I don't eat much of her cooking. She probably thinks that I don't like her food, though I've tried with no avail to convince her otherwise. I enjoy her cooking, but as I said, I don't ever have much of an appetite.

My mom frowned slightly, thinking of something that would satisfy us both. "How about potato soup?" she quizzed, going after one of my weak points. I loved no other food in this world more than potato soup.

"Sounds delicious." I answered, now excited at the prospect of having my favorite dish for dinner. My mother smiled softly, her dimples showing, then without another word, pulled her head back into the kitchen to start preparing dinner. I dodged a table holding a lamp and a picture of me as a child, while heading to my room.

Twisting the handle, I opened the door and headed in. Throwing my backpack at the foot of my bed, in its usual spot.

I looked around my room and took a moment to observe it. The bed lay messy and unclean from my use of it this morning. My floor was clean, save for a few dirty clothes that I had been too lazy to clean up and throw in the hamper the day before.

My flat screen forty-two inch tv sat like a statue on an entertainment center my mom had bought me from a yard sell. My PlayStation 4 sat under it, with a mess of games resting atop of it.

And finally, in a corner sitting infront of a window was my computer desk with my computer sitting beside it. That window served as a constant thorn to my eyes, as there was a consistent glare that sometimes showed up in morning that assault my eyes. I sighed and headed for my bed, ignoring how unkempt it was and took a seat atop of it to catch my thoughts.

In the end, I decided to lay down for a nap, as the day called for a night of gaming. Tomorrow, Allen and I would play some Call of Duty, I'd have to ask my mom to get plenty of snacks for that.

It wasn't long before I was asleep.

***

I awoke to my mother shaking me slowly.

"Seb, dinners ready. I figured we'd eat together tonight." She said to me. I usually ate in my room, skipping meals with her. Not that I disliked eating with her or anything, I just liked to eat alone. I suppose I'm a bit shy when it comes to eating around other people.

I yawned, then stretched out my arms while savoring the way it felt.

"Alright, I'll be in there in a few moments." I said to my mother in reply. "What time is it?" I asked.

"It's fifteen after six." She answered.

"Oh, I slept long." I said

She smiled gently, then turned to leave while making sure to quietly shut my door as she left.

I sat up, no use in lying down, not with the light on that would surely hamper my attempt to go back to sleep.

With much effort, I got up and headed off towards the kitchen, where our table sat seated for two but with four chairs.

My mother sat at the table, using a ladle to pour some of the soup into one of two porcelain bowls set at the table. Her lips curled up as I entered, with her eyes sending me an unspoken greeting.

"I made plenty for the both of us, I'm sure there'll be leftovers for a few days." She said, gesturing to the large pot of creamy soup. My mouth watered at the sight. Beside the large pot sat a pan, several pieces of bread rested atop of it.

"Homemade garlic bread served with the soup, sounds good, yes?" my mother said, noticing the hunger in my eyes that skimmed over the table.

I smiled at her, she returned it. I headed over to the table, pulled the chair out and sitting down on it, taking a seat in front of my mother.

She handed me the bowl, while I grabbed a silver spoon and began to dig in.

I glanced around before finally locating my target, quickly getting up from my seat and grabbing a Pepsi from the carton of drinks sitting beside the fridge. I drink them warm, my teeth are s.e.n.s.i.t.i.v.e to cold stuff. I've never really liked cold drinks, aside from cold coffee and milkshakes.

I opened the can of Pepsi, taking a sip and retaking my seat. My mom observed her soup in thought, as if trying to remember a forgotten detail.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, while looking around at the kitchen counter where she prepared the meal. Sitting on the counter was a large variety of spices used in the preparing of the soup.

"Sorry, I forgot to add salt." She apologized simply, while moving to get up. My mom didn't like salt all that much, said it can do dangerous things to your body. She knows I like it in my food, so she makes an effort include it in several of the dishes she makes for me.

I raised my hand to stop her, "Its fine, not really a big deal." I said. She sat back down. Nodding slightly while doing so.

I took a bite of the soup. "Besides," I started around a mouthful, "it tastes good even without it."

I couldn't miss the happy smile that seemed to appear out of nothing on my mom's face.

***

After a delicious dinner, my mother worked on dishes while I cleared the table and helped her clean the counter. The television in the living room blasted, an unscheduled emergency announcement. After a brief introduction, the news caster starts with the reason behind the broadcast.

"Satellite images show several large sh.i.p.s heading towards the United States, military officials say the fleet of sh.i.p.s appear to be flying. Using technology that is superior to our own.

The only thing is they move at a slow speed, almost a crawling one. " I paused upon hearing the caster's story, looking towards my mom. "The unknown fleet is approaching from the Pacific Ocean." The news castor finished, pausing a few moments herself.

She appeared unconcerned, acting as if she didn't even hear the woman. I saw her tense up though at the mention of the sh.i.p.s heading towards the states.

"Mom, you think it's the Chinese or Russians?" I asked, looking at her turned back.

She turned the water off, putting the last dish into the drainer, then paused for a moment.

"It's possible," she stated simply.

The new reporter continued, "Military officials say they have the military on alert. A fleet of sh.i.p.s has already been dispatched to the western coast. Air force officials say their fighters are also armed and ready, and are confident they will be able to defend the states from any threat of invasion. Attempts to communicate are being made as well, and like always, we'll continue to update you on the situation, thank you for watching and now back to your regular broadcasting."

The news turned off, and the movie that was playing before now resumed.

My mother turned on me, a calm expression now resting atop her face. The tension from her drained completely. "See, it'll all be alright now. The military will stop anyone attempting to invade." She said confidently, but it almost felt like she was trying to convince herself more than me.

I nodded, wanting to assure her everything will be fine. I told her that I was heading back to my room, and grabbed a Pepsi and retreated from the kitchen.

Making it to my room took little effort, I shut my door without slamming it and headed for my bed, reaching for my phone. I pulled it up, seeing I had four unread messages. I slid my finger along the screen, unlocking it.

Two of them were from Allen, another was from Alison, the girl I crushed on, and the last from another sophomore, Tirieal, that recently transferred into school with two of his brothers and a sister. Though the two of his brothers were adopted, he still treated them like family.

I opened up Allen's first message, from two hours ago. "Got the snax?" It read, I couldn't help but grin to myself. Figures, contrary to his figure, Allen enjoys his junk food.

I decided to read his other message before typing a response. I opened it up, it came in seven minutes ago.

"Dude! This is some sci-fi stuff right here, you seen those sh.i.p.s???"

I paused, I didn't see the news, only heard it. I don't think the lady said anything about pictures of sh.i.p.s, but I suppose that since there are satellites, there would be pictures of them.

"Not yet to the snacks, and not yet to the sh.i.p.s. I have heard about them." I quickly texted a reply, then went to open Alison's text.

I no longer had romantic feelings for her, but I did hold her in close regard as a friend.

"Hey! Hoping you're well, any plans for the weekend?" she asked, typical Alison.

She's always trying to make plans and be doing things. Definitely an active girl.

I texted back, "Me and Allen are going to pull some all-nighters and game, you're welcome to join us if you want!"

I closed her message out, chuckling softly, thinking what mom would think about Alison coming to stay and game, and then looked at the final one, Tirieal's. "Hope you're doing good, friend. Seen the news lately? Seems a bit crazy."

Tirieal and his siblings spoke reserved and polite, it could be because of where they moved from. Their names were all weird and not normal, I heard he moved from Europe but that's a bit hard to believe because he and his siblings have a perfect American accent.

"Hey Tirieal, I'm doing great, I just heard the news moments ago, I wonder if they're Chinese or Russian sh.i.p.s. Do you know anything about it?" I asked, then I locked my phone screen, the display turned back to being a black dull screen.

I turned towards my desk with a purpose, and strode towards it. I took a seat and sat down in my rolling chair, one my mom bought from one of her customers at the diner. It didn't take long for me to turn my computer on and boot it up, quickly making it to the desktop screen. I skimmed past the many game icons, ignoring them and heading straight for the Mozilla Firefox icon.

The browser page popped up, I moved the cursor to the search bar, and typed in mysterious fleet over the Pacific Ocean. Several articles popped up all at once.

I skimmed through the articles, reading the descriptions, in the end, I chose a Fox News article, as it seemed the most credible.

Cl.i.c.k.i.n.g it, a page popped up with several images. Images of what looked like flying battlesh.i.p.s that belonged in a Science Fiction movie. There looked to be several different classes of sh.i.p.s, they could be seen moving over a spot above the ocean.

They were beautiful and elegant in a sense. Painted a snow-white color with a navy blue trim, the battlesh.i.p.s looked much more advanced than anything the world currently had.

I came to the conclusion that these had to be of alien origin, or they were built in a countries top secret bunker.

Flying alongside several of the sh.i.p.s were wings of fighters and what looked to be humanoid robots. They looked to be about four or five stories tall. They carried weapons of wide variety; spears, swords, and different types of rifles.

For a force that seemed pretty advanced in technology, these guys seemed to be using primitive weapons. Swords and spears really won't do much against the rifles the other mechas carried.

I turned away from my computer screen, letting it sit idle on that page for some time. I felt a cold fear rush through my c.h.e.s.t.

This is terrifying, I thought.

I shook my head. The military assured us we would be safe, but we don't even know what their soldiers and sh.i.p.s are capable of. I don't think the military stands a chance.

For the first time since my dad died, I feel frightened.