Author's Note: I promised this a long time ago, but I want to separate this into parts because of how complex this was. I am still working on Amnesia, but I want to put that aside for now and I hope that isn't too much of a disappointment. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story that took me too long to put together with friends.
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The world is something to watch. You can never look away on it's actions. Not even it's mistakes and mishaps. This world, to me has been something rather interesting. Nothing has been more enticing to watch than this world's history. In this world, there a race of felines, Joraals as they call themselves. They are an equal race of peace and equality. Of course there are the humans. A race of war-enjoying beings of power wanting more and more of it to take as much as they want.
Their king, Sir Karl Hamalton, saw the Joraals as a lower race. A race of no purpose. Soon, this mire opinion became fact to the humans. They wanted to give them a certain purpose of which they would be useful. This is when I met Jeramy. A simple infant he was. Of course, I only observed him. His parents could not see me even though I plainly standing in front of them. I was a ghost to them. To anyone. But some had the power to see me. Some ignore my presence or simply stare at me. Even though, Jeramy did not have this power, I still followed him. And he was more interesting than the world itself.
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As soon as the humans decided the fate of the Joraal's and their primary purpose, they came to every tribe and village the humans could find and captured all who were old enough to be put into auction for slavery. I have seen false messages from gods that made havoc, but none could match how intriguing this was. I could not stop to looking away.
I could see the mothers ripped away from their children, brothers and sisters saying goodbye to each other as they were all sold to the humans. I saw lives being torn apart within seconds. I thought families would be reunited again, however, I knew little of Jeramy's path. I tried to find him, but there was no trace. He seemed to be the core distress out of this entire village. I hear the mother call out to him. I looked and found two men with crossbows pointing them at the mother as she held her child, keeping him away from the humans. The father was held back with the other humans wanting to take him away to auction. He struggled as he tried to stop the crossbows from firing. He was too late. Although it hasn't happened, but as I watched I could feel her soul drifting into my own.
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The bowmen pulled their hair triggers and let the bolts flying. Luckily the bolts only hit the mother instead of Jeramy. Sinister thoughts to admit, but it was either the child or the mother at that point. The father wanted to attack them. I could feel his rage. In my eyes, still saw her standing there. I walked to her and simply told her to walk to the sun as it set. She listened and walked towards the sunset. I could see the sudden fear in her eyes, It was small, but I could see it. I looked to the father, but could not see them. The carriage that held them were miles away. The humans that were left in the village seemed to be ordered to burn it.
As I went to came to the carriage, the Joraals were kept in such an enclosed space. Twenty were held in a ten man carriage as they were going to be sold into auction as slaves. It was a two day long ride for them. "Where do you think they are taking us, Khal`En?" the Joraal next to said to the father.
"I do not know, Ji'Khar." he said as his eyes kept staring down to what was the floor.
"I saw what happened Jera`Es... I am sorry for that..." The father's eyes started to fog as a tear fell down his cheek.
The carriage grew to a stop and two men on the outside opened the wooden doors to let out the Joraal of the carriage. The light seemed like it was to harsh for the Joraal, as if they were stuck in darkness for months. "Get out!" the guard demanded.
"What?" One of the Joraal questioned him.
"I said get out you Khaja pieces of s**t!" he got out his crossbow and lit the bolt on fire. They rushed out as they were all placed on a wooden podium as if they were for display. The children were placed in cradle for the same purpose. Men began to flood the area as they started to place bids. Men on a stand was placing bids of the ones who wanted one, as men shouted which one they wanted. Many called them Khajas. An offensive term. To them it meant worthless or nothing, but to the humans it mean just another Joraal.
The father was ignored as the rest were auctioned out of the area. I could see him eying the cradles, he knew where his son was, he just wanted to make sure he wasn't forever gone. As the place was almost at easy, an old man walked up in the podium and patted the father's furry back. "I could see you staring at those cradles." The father looked away from them and stared at the old man. "Which one is yours?" He almost bursted into tears as the man was going to reunite him and his son.
"What is your name, sir?" the father said.
"Mine? My family calls me Hannible Higgans. You can call me Hannible, Higgans or Ham. Which ever suits you." The old man smiled as the father stood their barely crying. "Now, which one is yours?" He took him to the the cradles and showed him to his son.
"How beautiful." the old man said. "That mark on his forehead is so angelic." I looked and he was right. That mark was beautiful. It was in the shape of a flaming phoenix. It was like the All Maker's art plastered on a living vessel.
"Thank you, sir. How may I repay you?"
"By working on my farm like the rest I own. Your son is no longer yours, but mine." The father's smile faded as the man held his son like as if he was his own. "I shall call you Jeramy." He said as the old man's guards pulled the father to his carriage to be dragged to another place of hatred.
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