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Roshma: The First Steps

By Trey Turner All Rights Reserved ©

Adventure / Scifi

Blurb

I watched as rays of light struggled to penetrate the canopy of shade that lay over our head. The beautiful Yara trees with their soft pink leaves formed a thick barrier which blocked out most of the light on this rather pleasant day. However, my eyes were fixated on my hand. There was a small spot where the light shown through piercing the canopy of shadows. My focus turned to the spot where the light shown upon me, pondering the implication of this lone ray of light. Even in a perfect system there are flaws, anomalies if you will. The tree provided shelter from the squelching heat of the hot season in yet it wasn’t perfect. It made me wonder about my own life. It seemed so perfect at the moment, but was I living in a stable system? Was my current state in life as fragile as the canopy that a ray of light could invalidate it? Life has a way of moving forward even when one would rather stay put.

Chapter 0: The First Steps

Start writing hereWhen I first fought you I thought to myself, ‘“This kid is dangerous, he just might change the world.’”

Chapter Zero: The First Steps

I watched as rays of light struggled to penetrate the canopy of shade that lay over our head. The beautiful Yara trees with their soft pink leaves formed a thick barrier which blocked out most of the light on this rather pleasant day. However, my eyes were fixated on my hand. There was a small spot where the light shown through piercing the canopy of shadows. My focus turned to the spot where the light shown upon me, pondering the implication of this lone ray of light. Even in a perfect system there are flaws, anomalies if you will. The tree provided shelter from the squelching heat of the hot season in yet it wasn’t perfect. It made me wonder about my own life. It seemed so perfect at the moment, but was I living in a stable system? Was my current state in life as fragile as the canopy that a ray of light could invalidate it? Life has a way of moving forward even when one would rather stay put. Yet, I prayed to Elohim to let me stay in the shade of that tree a little bit longer.

While in the shade, I reminiscence about my old life pondering my journey to this point. In fact, almost three years ago at 17 I didn’t even live in Macco City or anywhere near it. The deserts of Desantiago were where my family and I resided. It was a settlement about 100 miles from Macco City and hundreds of miles from any other civilization for that matter. All that changed when the men in black suits showed up at my doorstep and offered me a new life. They were here because I was different from other people and had certain abilities that made me useful in warfare. My father Travis Hawkins had these abilities too, I inherited them from him, but my mother (Naomi) and sister (Cierra) did not. My father used these skills to serve his government and protect our planet Zatara until he they deemed him too old; if you asked, me they let him go a little early. I feel sorry for any poor soul that would try to pick a fight with him.

Of course, the suits made the situation sound urgent and exciting. They said, “The public lived under the illusion of safety, and there were always demons on the horizon waiting to attack us the moment we let our guard down.” It sounded brave, noble and ultimately, like the right thing to do. In fact, my father had gone to great extent to prepare me for this moment making me train for hours every day for as long as I could remember. Still, I would need the night to think over my decision. That night I thought harder than ever before considering every angle and nuance before making my final decision.

Despite our good intentions, trouble always followed the Hawkins family where ever we went. In fact, we lived somewhere else before moving to Desantiago but being too young at the time to remember, the name of the place escapes me. The incident caused us to move was an attempt on my father’s life. Desantiago, was a rural farming community where they grew crops for biofuel. It was inhabited mostly by the Indus people. My mother was Indus so fitting in here wasn’t hard, but we did have to learn to farm. Upon arrival in our new desert home I was full of hopes and dreamed of many things, but most of all I dreamed of being a writer. However, after many years of living here the desert sun had tried up all my hopes and dreams. It would be unfair to blame it all on the sun. The sands were to blame too. They were greedy and cried out for blood. I had four good friends and half of them died, laid to rest in the sands forever.

The more I thought the clearer it became. I needed to get away, in fact I owed it to myself to start a new life. All these thoughts, all these dreams deferred were pushed to the back of my mind and buried down deep in my heart. Being a writer wouldn’t cut it, these suited men held the key to my future and that key unlocked the door of Macco City.

Now I was here at Cashay’s Academy, the finest school on Zatara being trained by the greatest military professionals. This was easy this was the good life. I was setting at a table under a yara tree surrounded by people like me, people also, selected for their special abilities, but more so than that they were my friends. We had laughed and partook in this called life together, we had bonded. Everything was perfect, no one was dead, no one was trying to kill us and that is why I wondered how long it would last.

Though, I was 19 going on 20, my story was just beginning. It was an improbable story about overcoming insurmountable odds. The unlikely protagonist of this tale is tall, thin, had brown eyes and messy brown hair to match the seemed to always stick up on just one side. As for his face it was nothing memorable, you couldn’t pick him out of a crowd. In fact, any of these traits on their own could belong to anyone, but all these traits to come to they make up Tyerow Nathaniel Hawkins. To simply call this a story doesn’t do this tale justice. The Indus people have a special word for this kind of event. They call it a Roshma meaning a great yet unexpected journey and little did I know I was about to my first steps on this Roshma.

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