Chatterbox: Inkwell

Entry #1 

I am pretty much a normal mid-teen. However, that is extremely rare in my tribe, the Mountain-Hands. Totally original tribe name, eh? 

Yeah, around here on the continent of Navigar, the only original name of a people group is… Actually, there aren’t any. All the names of people groups, tribes, countries, etcetera are based on what the people within the groups do, look like, which habitat they live in, and even which part of Navigar we live in. We Mountain-Hands were lucky. We’re so remote that nobody outside of our tribe really knows what we do or are like, other than we work in the mountains and do something that benefits the others in more populated areas, plus the fact that we usually carry pickaxes and have relatively pale skin. We are the harvesters of the entire continent. We harvest raw energy wherever we can find it. We harvest energy using our powers, but we have to be careful. Sometimes we use our powers without thinking, and only the very best of us can fully control them. Except for me. My powers haven’t shown up yet… Unlike literally all the other kids 15 years old.

A lot of the other kids my age have already earned their pickaxes. In my tribe, you earn your pickaxe when you do something incredible, like find an especially big energy pool, or even load twice your quota of energy into the Core. These pickaxes are what mark someone as a fully capable person. Usually they glow blue or red, but if somebody does something truly heroic, then they get a white pickaxe, or at least that’s what it says in the myths mothers tell their children to keep them quiet at night. No person has ever been given a white pickaxe before in the entire history of the Mountain-Hands. There really isn’t any opportunity for heroism in the mountains. It’s REALLY BORINGLY peaceful here.

For now.

I think.

I don’t know and honestly don’t care. Whelp, that’s it for today’s observation. Mar out.


submitted by A laugh in the dark, Smiling in the gloom
(July 25, 2019 - 6:59 pm)

Intriguing, can't wait to see where this goes next!

submitted by Ella Starburst, Breaking Down Barriers
(July 25, 2019 - 9:29 pm)
submitted by a top of faith, catalyst
(July 26, 2019 - 8:54 am)

Saame, this seems really neat!

submitted by Icy, age 14, The Forest
(July 26, 2019 - 1:29 pm)

Chapter 1

“MAR YOU DAUGHTER OF THE DARKNESS GET BACK HERE!!!” I smirk as I dodge obstacles - or are they people? Eh, they’re all the same to me - clutching my prize tightly.

“OI, MATE - WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE!” A confused but intrigued onlooker playfully shouts at the man in white, who at the moment is pursuing me. He ignores the onlooker. Soon, we’re at the outskirts of town. I know this place like the back of my hand; I don’t doubt this is the first time he’s set foot in this place. Yet, I admire his stamina. I don’t have much, and by now I’m panting like a dog. He’s getting closer. I can see the line of trees that mark the border of our town-

“Gotcha!” His hand wraps around my neck, holding me up by my shirt. “Give me that, you little wretch!” Without mercy or compassion for the state of my hands, he wrenches the glowing fragment I hold out of my fists. He shakes it in my face. “This belongs to science, and I don’t care if you found it!” I twist suddenly, smacking both of his wrists. I drop to the ground, and so does the fragment. I scoop it up and dash for the trees. Only I go past the town border; nobody else dares to. Cursing and throwing dirt, sticks, and stones at me, the man in white paces back and forth, toes against the edge, while he watches my receding figure. When I can no longer hear his voice, I duck into a large, hollowed out log. I examine my prize to make sure the man’s hulking, clumsy hands haven’t broken it. It’s intact. I smile. The sun reaches its peak in the sky, and I’m still sitting in the log, wondering what exactly my prize is. It glows with a white light, faint, but beautiful. I found it in the deepest mine shaft Mountain-Hands my age are allowed to go into, buried deep in a worthless diamond. It took me so long to chip it out, but I did get to keep the diamond dust. Around here, gems and jewels are bountiful and easy for all to access, and thus, totally worthless. Down in the more populated areas, though, that’s a different story. It’s currency down there. Up here in the mountains, we use the barter method. Primitive, but useful when each Peak (there are encampments on each peak; not many in the valleys in between) has more easy access to a material than another. However, this little shard of glowing whiteness is completely out of the ordinary… I don’t think anything like it is found easily in any Peak. When I found it, I resolved to hang it in a pouch around my neck, realizing it is precious. All I’ve got to do now is get home inconspicuously. Tough luck. I can hear the shouts of ‘MAR WHERE ARE YOU??’ as I near the town border. Maybe I should just camp out for the night. I’d probably be safest in a tree, so I find the bushiest tree with branches I can reach, and, as one can guess, I climb to the highest, widest flat spot I can find in the safety of my tree’s arms. Lights from glowbug lanterns swarm in the town not ten feet away from me. I may have to sleep here in the tree tonight.

“Uuuuurgh. Hope it doesn’t rain tonight…” I whisper, peering up at the overcast sky. Out of the corner of my eye I see the lanterns filter towards the meeting house, a gigantic hut with a lit torch over the doorway. The light of the torch signals a tribal meeting. One by one, lanterns are covered. Soon, the entire tribe is in the meeting house. With a smile, I slink down from my tree just as a raindrop lands on the branch next to me. Dashing through the quickly thickening rain, I cover up my face just in case some person isn’t at the meeting. I can only barely see my house through the downpour. With a slick hand, I reach out for the stone knob on the mountain-oak door. It clicks open without a touch. My curiosity peaked, I toss a rock into the hut as a safety measure. Nothing happens. I swipe a hand in and back out of the hut. Again, nothing happens. Thoroughly soaked now, I slip into my home. The lock is broken, but nothing’s missing. However, it seems that someone has been throwing things. From the debris left on the floor and the pottery dust on the walls, I would guess that somebody’s been dodging another person’s fire. Despite the evidence of violence, I’m safe, at least for the time being. Scouring the area for the leather pouch I seek, I find it in the one untouched storage-box in the entire building. With the shard securely hidden away, tucked under my shirt and hanging by a leather strap, I slink to the meeting house. In case it hasn’t been noticed, I’m very slinky. I slink a lot. Slinking is how I usually traverse the ground when I don’t want to be noticed. Which, as one might have guessed by now, is a lot of the time. Anyway, I slink through the rain, my footfalls almost silent as usual, and find myself a back corner to hide in. The Head Elder is weakly trying to hush the crowd, which is in a tizzy.

“Send Mar!” One person shouts. I immediately recognize the voice as the scientist from earlier. A few of the “more distinguished” villagers, namely the ones who like to stick their nose into whatever I’ve found recently, agree. Since I have a knack for finding interesting things, this is most of the villagers. The Elder’s eyes fill with remorse, something I didn’t expect to see. With a sigh, he looks around for me. Not waiting, I stand. I can tell he really doesn’t want to send me wherever I’m going. With a hesitant wave of his hand, he beckons me to the front. All eyes are fixed on me as I walk forward.

“Mar-” The Elder’s voice creaks, he’s so old. I wonder how he’s still alive and upright. He must be at least a hundred years ancient by now. “It is in the common interest of the people of this village that you go to the Capital City. It shouldn’t be too hard, seeing that you’re fairly young and the City is nearby… Here.” He turns to a burlap sack, entirely new. He tries to pick it up, but he’s so frail that I just grab it, smiling weakly along with him. “That sack and everything in it is yours. You’ll need it.” Suddenly, he leans in and whispers, ‘There’s one more thing, but I can’t give it to you right now. It might take a while for me to get it out. It’s something that will protect you on your journey and further.’ I nod. Probably some kind of weapon.

Just FYI if a section doesn't have 'Entry#--' before it, then it's reality for Mar.

submitted by A laugh in the dark
(July 26, 2019 - 12:57 pm)