GEM Island. An island which most theorists believe the world neglected to mention on its map, maybe because of its bizarre but obvious almost rectangular shape, or perhaps because of its disinclination to pose as a threat to any other country regardless of its abnormal size. Containing absurd weather conditions and having mixed races because of shipwrecks, which also seemed to be the only way of getting to the island, the population reached a quarter of a billion in the early 1900s but with its location unknown, it was ignored by the world.
GEM stands for: Gold, Emerald and Magical. Because of the abundance of these minerals on this island, other countries have tried colonizing it but have failed, reporting to their superiors empty-handed, their faces not beaming with triumphant grins of victory but looks of ghastly depression and unexpected disappointment. Some people used to think this island is found in the clouds or under the seas. GEM Island is found in neither of these but south of the African continent and Australia, in the Indian Ocean.
GEM is divided into five cities. The smallest of these is Selinafertiraii or simply, Selina. This city is situated to the southeast of the country and barricaded with a gigantic and long gate said to tower over the tallest of trees and stretches from the city’s one end to the other. The gate is made of wood and heavy metal and it was given the name, “The Gate of Fate”. It is said that no man had ever peeked through these gates and lived to tell the tale.
The next city is called Elisavertiraii, or Elisa. This city is situated to the northwest of the island. Elisa is a very quiet city with a small river to its east called the “Cratum River”. This river is at the very edge of the city. Elisa is known for the efficiency of two of her modes of transport, rail and air.
The next of these five cities is Dasalartoyoseraii, or Dasa. This city is also peaceful-quiet and has a very good rail link with Elisa.
Flowing through Dasa is the “River of Mystery”. The origin of its name is a mystery too just like its size because this river is as big as the city Dasa! The River of Mystery flows from Dasa into Seninacatii or Senina, which is the second biggest city of GEM. Senina has a town, three villages and a desert called the “Half-moon Mountains”. This city has the best road transport relationship with the city of Bradwield which happens to be the capital city of GEM.
Bradwield City was founded by David Bradwield in the year 1892 who then became the mayor of this city. At that time he was forty years old. David Bradwield passed away quietly in his sleep thirty-four years later in the year 1926 at the age of seventy-four.
Bradwield City has the largest and best roads on the island and the most proper hospitals and clinics. Before his death, David Bradwield made sure he had kept his city in order. GEM has no president but a mayor and the rest of the cities have their own leaders. The four cities: Senina, Elisa, Dasa and Bradwield support each other even though divided. The fifth city, Selina, the city enclosed by the Gate of Fate, does not partake in any functions or public meetings but only because no one knows or had ever seen a person that lives there. Even the neighboring cities loathed peeking through the gates of Selina, but why? Well, remember what I said earlier about this island, about how people have tried conquering it but have failed? Well, this was and still is the dilemma. So many stories circulate around this island. Stories of legends, myths and creatures most people only dream of seeing. Some people say David Bradwield had seen and even come in contact with these “creatures” which could have led him to ban magic, sorcery, witchcraft and to stop people who mingled magic with science called “magician scientists” in Bradwield City, regarding these crimes as being as serious as murder or rape. I will not debate with your own opinion on this topic but as a prophet of this city, fooled by my own visions, I will have to tell you the whole legend myself. A legend and vision which actually made me quit sharing my prophecies because people were starting to call me a fraud. The circumstances surrounding these prophecies are why and how I got the name “Bonita Gontus”. I will not explain the meaning of this name but you will find out after you have read a few of the prophecies.
Many Bradwield citizens do not even believe that there are such things as magic or sorcery, only paying attention to them as one does to stories parents tell their children at night. Well, answer this; how is it then that hundreds and thousands of soldiers with powerful and deadly weapons of mass destruction fail to take over an island with only the police force for defense? Well, that’s only because they did not rely on the police force alone.
This leads us to our story. But this is not just a story, but the whole and true story of a legend that was born and bound to the city of Bradwield.
Some people describe this story as a heart-aching tragedy, others describe it as the trials of a vengeful yet justifiable protector. This is the opposite of a fairytale. This is a legend of the boy who was both cursed and blessed with the names, “The Anonymous and The Marauder; Death’s Assassin”. A merciless protector beyond human comprehension. So, go ahead and find out for yourself if what I speak of is true, but even though regarded by some as a fraud, would you argue with the words of one of Bradwield’s prophets?You will find out for yourself that bravery, power, greed and evil know no boundaries. It was the winter season in Bradwield City and all schools had been closed because of the snow storm. Most people were in their houses warming up to the warmth of their heaters or huddled by their fireplaces. In the small street of Brannon, a street situated to the north at the very edge of the city next to the railway, Howard Eriksson, a frail old man was busy shovel
Brendan made an innocent sound as if in answer to these words. Howard took him upstairs and using heaps of his jerseys and the basin he had used to wash him, he made a bed for him and no sooner had he laid him down had he fallen asleep. Howard stretched and yawned and before heading downstairs, he looked at baby Brendan one more time. He was quiet, as if dead. Although the mother had not explained the whole story, just by looking at him, Howard felt that there was more to the story than the father trying to burn down the house.‘No,’ he said. ‘There’s much more to this story than meets the eye.’ With these words he headed downstairs. Many years passed by and Brendan was growing into a bright young boy always eager to help Howard around the house. With the little money he seemed to have, Howard sent him to Bradwield Junior School. Brendan always brought good marks at the end of every term to show his adoptive father, Howard. The relationsh
‘I’ll call your father if you keep this up,’ she continued.‘If he had one,’ Samantha mocked from the back of the class, starting a much louder roar of laughter from the class.‘Yes, we all know Brendan is adopted, Miss Patricks now can you please shut it!’ she snapped. The bell rang for everyone to dismiss and Brendan took his books and walked out of the classroom. Susan Raymond, one of his classmates joined him as he was making his way out.‘Do you at least know his name?’ she asked him in a concerned voice. Susan Raymond was a thumb shorter than Brendan and the brown and black extensions in her hair were too obvious to miss. She had suspicious looking eyes which hastily gave away her gossip talent.‘Who’s name?’ He pretended to be surprised.‘I mean your father, duh! Do you know his name?’‘No I don’t and I don’t ever want to find out,’ Brendan responded quickly and harshly, getting furious with her
‘No,’ he plainly refused. He saw a note hanging by a shoelace from the hole in his locker. He snatched it and unfolded it. The paper was dirty and pathetic, which was typical, Brendan thought to himself, of the new boy’s appearance. His expression showing no concern whatsoever, he slowly unfolded the note. The note read: You will get to know me well Erikson. I am Thomas Bradley the werst nightmere you will ever hav. If you thot that life is unfair then you havent met me. Your life is about to be come more than unfair. Its about to be come suisidal for YOU! ‘If I were you, I would believe him,’ Simon advised him. He had been reading the note from behind Brendan’s shoulder. Brendan crumpled the note and threw it on the floor. He said, ‘If he wants to play dirty then we shall play,’ he said almost to himself. His mind was almost unconscious, still trying to digest what was before him.‘I can bet that that is the worst idea you have ever had. I heard him b
‘No. Does it turn people into frogs?’ He was starting to get a kick out of this.‘No, it doesn’t. This is not one of my surprise jokes if that is what you are thinking. I am being serious and I ask that you respect that,’ the stern expression on Howard’s face agreed with him. ‘This potion is called an “Oxygen potion”,’ he continued. ‘That’s one of the few things he told me about it. It enhances its drinker’s strength and speed making him or her, you can say…superhuman.’Brendan could not restrain a small and brief giggle at these words. ‘There is no such thing as a “superhuman being”,’ he said shaking his head skeptically. ‘That’s just ridiculous,’ he let loose another giggle.‘That’s what they used to say about magician scientists and the next thing you know, a man is being accused of being one and burnt alive right before his son’s eyes.’ A tear rolled down his cheek. This made Brendan become serious once again.‘So why do you keep it? Isn’t it evil?’ he asked in a ton
Brendan’s room was as simply decorated as their living room. There were no posters on the wall. His bed was to the far end of the door. It was a humble, small wood-carved bed. Beside the bed to the right was a small drawer where he kept his socks. To the left of the bed, leaning against the walls was his wardrobe. There was only one window in his room and it was just above the bed. As he cried into his small white pillow, his mind drifted into an abyss and he fell asleep.Meanwhile, Howard had still been sitting in his chair. He had been sobbing too, hurt by the words that Brendan had just said. He took out a photo of Patricia and stroked it gently. ‘You were right, Patricia,’ he said. ‘I’m not the father type.’ *The next morning, Brendan woke up late, which was unusual. He got dressed in not much of a hurry. He usually cooked them breakfast but Howard, knowing he was in no state to do so, prepared it himself.Brendan walked slowly down the stairs. ‘Mor
Thomas leaned back on his chair and put on a grin that meant to say, ‘Yeah, right.’‘I guess I woke up late,’ Brendan answered his teacher.‘And let it never happen again. This is the first time you’re late, Mr. Eriksson. You should tread carefully and keep your record clean. Sit down.’Brendan walked up to his desk trying hard not to let his two enemies change the expression of nonchalance on his face.‘Oh, darn it,’ Mr. Price said suddenly in regret. ‘Be quiet till I get back, understood?’‘Yes, Mr. Price,’ the class responded in unison except for three boys; Thomas, Angus and Brendan.Thomas leaned in towards Brendan’s ear. ‘We’re gonna have so much fun together, Eriksson.’ The coarseness of his voice annoyed him.‘You bet we will,’ Angus bellowed in agreement.His deeper voice only annoyed Brendan even more but he did not respond, fearing he would start an uncomfortable conversation with them. At recess, Brendan bumped into Angus.‘Happy to
The light of the sun outside woke Brendan up. He rubbed his eyes vigorously and realized he was still sitting on the floor, Howard’s cold head resting on his lap. This reality weighed his heart with more sorrow. He reached into Howard’s pocket and pulled out the small container with the liquid. He held it close to his eyes, examining it. The container’s glass looked somehow extraordinary in some way. It was definitely like the test tubes they used in Biology. The liquid looked as thick as dry goat’s blood.‘Happy now?’ He spoke to it with hopelessness and contempt in his voice. ‘You’ve led my father to his grave.’ He hurled it at the wall with all his strength but it only made a light thud and fell on the floor with no scratch. He stood up and approached it, leaving his father on the floor. ‘What is this thing made of?!’ He spoke aloud in astonishment. He picked it up and began tapping it with his forefinger. It produced heavy sounds, similar to a knock