Origin of the Arcs by Ghost Wolf, Based off: Eternal Conflict, By: ZNathan Animations (top 100 books of all time checklist txt) 📕

A girl with long chestnut hair, warm brown eyes, tall and lean, she warily walked slowly through the foggy glade. She couldn't see anything around her but the fog that engulfed the space surounding her and the grey grass beneath her. A whispering called her forward, calling her forward. She looked around searching for the source of the sound. The voice spoke again but the girl couldn't understand the words being spoken and the sound seemed to echo around her in her mind. She stepped forward hoping to find the voice or leave the depressing fog and the ground fell away beneath her. The air seemed to be non-existing and the girl choked trying to cry out for help. The voice whispered again, "Don't be afraid, calm yourself. This is your fear, control it," The girl tried desperately to calm herself, but without air she couldn't think clearly. Her vision slowly began blurring and the fear faded turning into desperation. The voice called to her telling her to remember. Remember what? She couldn't remember how she got there or why she was there. The voice faded and she felt panic begin spreading through her mind like black ink spilled over fabric. She closed her eyes. She focused trying to remember. Nothing came to her mind only the present. "Open your eyes child. Remember," she opened her eyes and looked around then down. "I'm still falling! I'm still in a void what do you want!?" The girl screamed over the wind as she continued to fall. "Who are you child?" The girl shook her head and closed her eyes tears running down her face. She opened them again and cried out in suprise. "You have been chosen. You must decide whether you can make hard decisions. You must choose who you are. You are in control of your future. The question is, will you help keep the worlds safe?" She closed her eyes. Then opened them and remembered. "Choose. Live or die," the girl closed her eyes then opened them determination in her brown eyes. "I choose to live," the voice answered "Follow me," The girl looked up and said, "I can not see you," the voice didn't reply but a whisp of black smoke appeared and floated away through the fog. The girl followed the voice out of the fog and stood before a mountain of black. "Why is the mountain black? Why are you black? No offense," the voice did not answer but continued floating towards a hole in the mountain side. Stepping over the rocky ground the girl looked around wondering if it was a good idea to follow a black spirit into a gaping black hole in a black mountain. The girl let out a sigh and continued following the little spirit. 

 Walking through the hole intricate patterns lit up in silver lighting the path through a narrow hallway, which descended deeper into the mountain. As the spirit floated forward the girl studied the patterns wondering at the artist who created them. "No one created the writing on the wall. They appear as history unfolds," the girl stared at the walls not realizing that the patterns were words. "So this hallway... how long is it exactly?" The girls question was answered as a stronger light at the end of the tunnel glowed. The girl gasped in wonder at the circular room, she had walked into. The walls were covered in silver writing. The ceiling was split in two sides. One side had images of flowering vines, trees bearing fruit, animals frolicking through fields of grass the sun shining down over them, all the images were drawn in gold. The girl looked over to the other side of the ceiling, and shuddered. Images of battles, fires spreading over fields and forests, rivers turning red with blood, animals suffering, and a blood moon hung over the horrifying scene, all of it in red somthing. At the center of a large circular room was a podium and floating above the plyth was a white band, with black stripes. "You have a choice. Leave behind the life you live and become a Gardian or refuse," 

 
 Im leaning back in my chair, the legs squeaking as the weight shifts to the back legs, my attention divided between two people. Mr. Bocktin a tall, dark hair man stands in the front by a smart board explaining the different types of cells and how cells differentiate. Pulling my long, light chestnut hair into a ponytail, I turn in my seat and look over to fourth table by the windows. As class had started one of the assistant principles had introduced Nathan. He seemed like a normal kid. Handsome tall.

"He's cute isn't he?" Taylor asks giggling in my ear. Taylors my best friend, and has been since I moved here to Missouri, with my dad and little sister Tess. Taylors popular, tall, beautiful, and into softball, she always where's her long red hair in a braid which shines in the sun. I glance at her over my shoulder and grin.

"Yes he is," I reply with a chuckle.

"What is so funny that you had to interrupt class Sparrow?" Mr. Bocktin asks staring at me. Whoops.

"Nothing Mr. Bocktin," I turn back around to the front of the room as my teacher turns back to teaching after chastising me before my attention diverts back to Nathan. He has gray hair that hangs in his face, his eyes a dark green, and his jacket covers a slight rise on his wrist I'm not able to identify what it is as he leans in his seat arms crossed. Hes relatively tall and lean his hands calloused. To me he seems out of place. Somthing told me he wasn't like everyone around me. I could couldn't place my finger on it and it was driving me crazy. The bell rung as Mr. Bocktin had finished passing out our latest assignments. 

"You seem distracted Sparrow. What's on your mind that's hindering your eye sight?" Taylor asked as she grabbed my arm and pulled me away before I ran into a wall. 

"Hmm? Oh sorry," I was indeed distracted and I'm usually very aware of my surroundings. More so than normal people. But somthing didn't feel right. Somthing was telling me to be carful. I felt a chill go up my spine and looked around searching for what was making me uneasy. Bright red hair bobbed in the crowd of students and disappeared around a corner. The only reason it caught my attention was because I've never seen such bright red hair here at Whitman high school. 

Taylor and I got to our next class, geometry, before the bell rings. I sit in my assigned seat at the circular table of five seats in the back of the room, the opposite corner of Taylor's seat, who sits in the front. Geometry goes by slowly today and I can't seem to concentrate. Finally the bell rings and Taylor and I separate heading to different classes. She heads to art, while I head to Agriculture mechanics. The school has a separate building for Ag. It's one story, has around six separate rooms. There are two class rooms, an office for the teachers, and the largest room is used for the mechanic aspect of the classes. I cut through the lunch room heading to the back, passing people sitting for lunch. Down a short hallway that's runs along the back of the school building into a stairwell and run right into someone. Grabbing them before they fall back down the steps. When we both regain our balance I stare into a grey eye and an eye with an cross hare. A shiver runs up my spine and I meekly apologize before going around her. Looking behind me I stare at a grey Arc. Instead of going out the back door to Ag. I go the opposite direction and take a left into my POE room. I knocked on the open door and peered into the room. On the left was a stack of black boxes with Vex stamped on the side, along the right wall and the left wall were computers, and in the center of the room was a raised arena with clear plastic walls. Meant for Vex kids. 

"Come in," Mr. Daniel called to me. Mr. Daniel is a great teacher. I have him every other day for POE (principles of engineering). I walk into the room and approach him. 

"What can I do for you kiddo?" Mr. Daniel looks up from his computer and smiles up at me. I look around for blonde hair. 

"I'm looking for Brandon. Do you know if he's here?" I'm antsy and paranoid. 

"He's right there," Mr. Daniel points at the door as Brandon walks in. I quickly walk over to him and pull him outside of the room. I quickly check my surroundings before turning back to Brandon.

"What's wrong? Your scarring me Sparrow," his voice quavers at my precautionary state.

"Someone with an Arc. A black and white one. She has black hair that fades to white. But the hair won't give her away there's a weird cross hare in her left eye," I sputter the details out quickly. We both have to be carful and watch our backs. From the feeling I got as I pasted her tells me she's dangerous and not friendly. 

"I'll keep an eye out for her. Did you see the other two?" I look at him in suprise. 

"There's two more? Wait the one with grey hair?" 

"Yeah, he's got a green Arc and there's a red haired kid with a red Arc. He didn't seem very nice," we both look behind us then look forward. The bell rings. We both look into each other's eyes and unsaid message passes and we both quickly get to class. The enemy is here and we can't run. Not without getting our families hurt. We're screwed.

The ground is covered in fog and the trees seem to appear out of no where as a girl with chestnut hair walks through the thick fog carful to avoid slamming into a tree. There's nothing on the ground in fact there is no grass just hard... rock? The girl crouches and grabs a handful of pebbles. She hefts them in her hand and looks puzzled turning in circles. She drops the rocks. And as if on cue the ground shudders and tilts. The girl lets out a cry of suprise before scrambling up the truck of a dead tree. Her hands start to bleed as the rough bark cuts through the skin of her palms as she holds on for dear life. After a while the earth settles and the woods become silent again. Carfully jumping to the ground the girls hair falls over her face. The girl stands up straight while pulling her hair back. Her warm brown eyes shine even though the sun dosnt shine. She looks around and starts walking forward. She walks what seems like forever hoping to walk out of what was starting to feel like a nightmare. Or maybe it's not feeling like a