Chapter 1: New World
*This is the first book I've gotten contracted for, so I didn't--and still don't--really know how to make a perfect hook. Just know that if you stick around and really deconstruct the story, I'm sure it's something that you'll come to love. Please be patient for these first 30-40 Chapters, and please, watch me transform this story into one that's sensational and outside of the norm*
Tip, tit, tat.
Like the grating shrill of chalk against a chalkboard, the inscriptions of pencils reverberated.
"Yes, I feel it... language is speaking to me!"
Rowan's pencil flew out and about, a dance of lightning as his hand scribbled at blistering speeds, his mind slowly succumbing to the realization of his circumstances.
His room was an absolute calamity--piles of balled-up paper colonized the floor, dried pens and worn pencils scattered like fallen soldiers in a battlefield of frustration.
Only his desk remained untouched, standing tall like an island amidst the chaos, his bed having long since been consumed by the war.
"After years, I've finally begun to do it. The words... they're perfect. The ultimate poem, It's finally here--"
Spontaneously, a blinding flash of light erupted, drowning out Rowan's inscriptions just as he carved the final stanza.
"No... no... no!"
...