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J. E. Green

United States

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Paper Thrones (excerpt)

July 15, 2015

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    The autumn trees undressed themselves in the breeze. Flustered by the wind, a confused army of red-inked leaves swirled around the land. The sun was split by the land, only half on the horizon now. Nighttime had already half-consumed the world, and Emma was caught in the middle of it. Her sweater embraced her neck, but the rest of it felt loose and as frigid as the air around her.

    "You're here rather early," commented a voice, cold yet welcoming, from just behind her. Emma turned with a wide smile on her face and caught glimpse of her guardian from the first dimension. His name was Yoake. His hair, pure white and just a sliver messy on his head, curled with the wind. His dark blue eyes were innocently wide, and a smile played on his lips. "Was school that boring today? I thought you liked learning. It's still daylight hours back in your world, isn't it?"

    "You act like I'm not allowed to come to Croma, my dear Apotropaic," Emma replied, digging her hands into her wool pockets. "My physical body is ill. I'll be here all day, unless Mother wakes me up. I figured that I'd probably do good with a few practice lessons here, or maybe even a new lesson. I'm not that good at archery, anyhow."

    Yoake smiled softly, adjusting the hood on his head. "It's good that you're determined, Emma Whitestone. How about we practice you ability to manipulate wind?"

    There lives a universe, guarded by black holes so that it's hidden away, far beyond ours. It is the universe that God came from, and the universe that was attacked by a demonic creature nicknamed the Dark. The Dark seeks to hold power against Croma, the first dimension, and Earth, the second resting place of God. The only six left, one from each Croman kingdom, were chosen to finally destroy the Dark. Emma was one of them. Using a chosen element (in Emma's case, wind), the Six could travel mentally to Croma for their training to destroy the great demon.

    "Fine," Emma held out her palm. "Watch me make a tiny tornado."

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