Adventure Romance and the Castle of Lasers

By Ray Wolfe

Ray Sebastian Wolfe is one of the new breed of ‘raw fiction’ writers who, as part of his creative rationale, does not edit or proof-read his work. Everything is exactly as he originates it. This is intended to facilitate ‘connective synergy’ ‘twixt reader and writer, like a soul speaking directly with a soul:

“I always don’t edit my work. I have never seen an editor who has the vision like mine and thus can’t ever commit to that process and don’t think there’s one out there. For my readers and I, its the pure experience they’re looking for - directly linking my heart to their’s. My friends and family are the only ones who give feedback and I don’t listen to it if it is wrong and it is. You can’t make something thats perfect more perfect.”

Set in a land not unlike our own, but strangely familiar, our hero embarks on a simply epic quest of love, intrigue, with action, and many adventures, a monster and romance. This is the tale of the ages and an adventure that you will never forget. Be ready to experience unadulterated creativity in a way that you've probably never known.

The Adventure Romance and the Castle of Lasers may be known as the book that changed literature for ever and ever.

Things that have been said:
"Thoroughly refreshing, freewheeling and definitely unusual."

“It’s not for me.”

“Some of the sentences are very long.”

"The 'raw fiction' approach is very interesting, and Ray Wolfe obviously has a brilliant imagination."

"I laughed a lot, especially at some of the errors that seem deliberately left in; are they? Outrageous and charming."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ray Wolfe
• Release date: Mar 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370674602

Book preview

Preface

Many people often question my approach to writing, saying that no writer can be sucessful if he she or it lives and writes in a bubble, essentially cut off from the world. I disagree with this. I have never needed to have my work edited because there is no editor who could share my vision of life and art. My mind has been free to soar into literaly space, where I have been free to create artistic writing among the stars and moons of the cosmos. Space is a vacuum, and inhabit that vacuum where no idea can escape. Everything I think has gone into this work. Some authors leave out there ideas, depriving readers of books which go high into the galaxy of space (in terms of thought) but my book leaves no stone unturned in terms of ideas, and this story is more rich because of this stone cold fact.

The point of my writing is to give the reader the ‘raw’ experience - I don’t plan or edit anything. It’s straight from the heart. If life is a rollercoaster, then I am in the driver’s seat. Get ready for a wonderful journey into the mind of Ray Sebastain Wolfe.

Prologue

Before the events in the book take place, Sebastian was alone and indifferent. A handsome man, misunderstood by all who met him and those whom he met. This is the story of how he came to know love, life, and how these things can be so fragile, and yet so strong simultaneously, taking you forward.

This tale recounts the events of a love gained and lost and found and all manner of the most unimanagable adventures that befell the hero of the tale, and the whole adventure is ready to be shared with those whom are brave enough to take the gauntlet that has been thrown down.

This..

is his….

…his story…

Chapter 1

An Awakening Within The Glade of Love

Many years ago, in a time when romance was something to be celebrated and sought after, there was a legendary romance. The romance was so legendary that it lingered on over the years for about fifty years. The main characters in the romance were called Sebastian and Juliet. Sebastian was tall, about 7ft tall, maybe taller than that and Juliet was much shorter, at 5ft.

How did they meet, I hear you whisper? And I shall tell you, friend. They met in a glade; a forest glade of dappled sunshine and dancing leaves. The wind blew warm and gentle on this fateful day and Sebastian was riding his giant horse, Stalliano, vigorously, through the long grass, when suddenly a gust of wind from nowhere launched a woman through the glade and at his steed, knocking poor Stalliano over and sending the horse rolling, rolling, rolling along the floor and into a tiny hole. Horses were Sebastian’s favourite animal, and Stalliano was Sebastian’s favourite horse, sadly.

At first, Sebastian knew not what had happened, shocked as he was to be blasted from his saddle and into the middle of the glade. What happened? He cried, shakily and very loudly as he finished falling over. He wasn’t sure what had happened, and so he began to have a look about the area. He found, of course, and tragically, that Stalliano had fallen to his terrible death down a hole and could not get out, for the entrance was no bigger than 1ft or 2ft across the diameter. Additionally, Stalliano was around 2.5ft across and had died in the fall and so remained there forever, sadly.

Sebastian had his eye to the hole and peered down into the darkness and could see the corpse of his horse lying crumpled and dead down there, so far down in the bowels of the earth. One single tear fell from Sebastian’s glistening eye, and, in the dark seemed like the very blood of sorrow, drawn from the veins of despair and dripped down a hole where poor dead Stalliano lay still and grew as cold as the morning frosts of Gabatoha.

Obviously, all that Sebastian could do was briefly mourn for his horse, Stalliano, and then begin the search for who or what it was which had been carried by the wind and hit him, squarely in the horse, and sent him spiralling, sprawling onto the forest floor like a broken castle tower, knocked down. Immediately, he found a young, beautiful lady, called Juliet, laying dead on the floor. At least this is what he imagined. She was not at all dead in the least. She was asleep in a kind of dream. He had imagined her name correctly, though, which, upon recalling the moment in later years, around four or five years later, he realised that this premonition of what her name was (although he uttered it not) was further proof of something that he suspected at that later date, but in the present time, was blissfully unaware of, which made him feel uncomfortable inside. And then, remembering his horse was dead, he gave a shrug with his shoulders, eyes and temples together, and felt nothing, only the bitterness of death quite strongly within him.

He leaned down and simply enfolded her in his beautiful manly arms and picked her up carefully as if she were flowers he’d bought and was expensive. She was as beautiful as any lady he had hitherto met. His eyes danced over her body form - darting from face to leg, to toes, to knee and back again to leg and then he glanced west as the sun went down behind a tree. He estimated that she must have weighed about 9 stone and was probably about 5ft tall, which was uncannily accurate, since this was the correct answer he was looking for. In later years, when he recalled the following day - the day after their fated meeting - he mused upon his uncanny accuracy in the estimation of Juliet’s weight and height and, again, wondered about how it all came to be and that it must have been the fates of yore that brought them together, not only in a geographical sense, but in a mutual understanding and intimacy of mind that no other lovers had claimed to have had before. Of course, at this present time; the time of their meeting he was unaware of this, in part, and was not bothered, at least outwardly. Inwardly his mind was racing, and he fell onto the floor, dropping poor Juliet with a bump but managed to save her before she hit the ground. He gritted his teeth, shook the confusion from his hair and clenched himself up to carry her to a nearby glade. When they got there he was exhausted. He wept for Stalliano some more and beseeched the Gods that they may give him understanding but the Gods answered not and seemed to deliver extra confusion. As night fell like a black ladder and Juliet continued to sleep, Sebastian gained no further understanding and fell, himself, into a deep, unsettled and singularly dark sleep of the blackest dreams and sweating and vile thoughts.

When he woke up, rejuvenated and refreshed, he was alone then yawned. He was no longer in the glade and Juliet was not with him. He jumped to his feet and shouted ‘Juliet!’ as loud as he possibly could and the trees seemed to shudder with the noise and leaves. Acorns dislodged by his booming noise rained down like fire upon him. He leached the tannins from about 1kg of acorns and made himself a tasteless breakfast of acorns and leaves from the cabbages that grew in abundance in the locality of Sebastian’s Father’s castle, where he lived. Sebastian was a competent woodsman and he could last for days, if not more, in the wild without the need for food or water other than that which he forced from the very living streams or cabbages or acorns, nuts, berries, dead animals and anything he had brought with him. His favourite meal would be meat, but this day he had acorns, and he felt worse.

After his breakfast of acorn and cabbage, instinctively, he began to track down the whereabouts of his Juliet (for in his mind already he had begun to fall in love with her; this lady who had heretofore been unknownst to Sebastian, despite the fact that he felt as if he had seen her before, but at the same time knowing that this could not be because he would have remembered it if it were indeed the case, he hoped (he prided himself on his excellent memory) and therefore it must have been a different kind of recognition. Something other-wordly that made him think of her as ‘his’ Juliet) but in vein.

He couldn’t find her anywhere. He sank, dismally, to the ground and wept like a fountain of unimaginable and infinite water. The tears poured from his face for ages and ages. The terrible confusion that he had come to feel every time he thought of her now descended upon his brow and threatened him with the notion of unconsciousness ad-infinitum. He fought against the feeling and managed to get up and have some more acorns which had sweetened a little where the bees had pitied him (at least, this is what he imagined to himself) and his sour breakfast and had sprinkled a layer of honey on them from their backsides. One bee lingered in the vicinity as if to see that Sebastian approved of the honey deposits and then went in. This troubled him and he knew it. He were very fond of wasps, but really hated bees, but this sweetened breakfast was only in his mind; the bees knew him not, nor if they did would they likely have added honey to his acorns as is not their wont.

He felt a little better, and decided to make a map of the surrounding woods, that he may refer to it, crossing off any areas he had visited via ‘process of elimination’, with a mark made from the juice of the bluest berries he could find: blueberries. He hoped that, by process of elimination, he would be able to find his Juliet and restore her to health with a potion that he had been making as a side-project. He sipped idly at the noted potion, confident that there was plenty left to restore his Juliet, should he find his Juliet, even if he sipped idly for quite a long time; maybe an hour. He sipped here and there, occasionally looking back over his right shoulder and the left one, looking suspiciously like a man drinking a strong brew early in the morning, and who shouldn’t have been which he was and, no, shouldn’t have been and he looked rather suspicious in this case. There was a guilty look in his face as he sharply angled the bottle up; its green glass catching some rays from the sun in the sky far above his hairy head. The potion did, in fact, contain a large measure of pure whisky, but only enough to revive and not nearly enough to intoxicate, although this idea was against the apothecary’s advisement in the selling of it. His idea of using the ‘process of elimination’ was now not even a memery.

Sebastian drained the last drop of Juliet’s revival potion and, stumbling, threw and smashed the bottle to pieces against the tree. The cork flew back at him and he ducked, and lost his balance and went tumbling into a nearby stream of icy cold water. This revived him instantly and he staggered to his feet, wondering where he had been for the last day. His memories came flooding back like a tide of water and he lost his balance instantly - falling with a resounding splash that echoed for miles around, - into the icy, cold water. He drifted in and out of sleep whilst fish nibbled gently at his clothing, tearing huge chunks of cloth and tossing them aside like huge sods of flesh. This awoke Sebastian with a start and he dragged himself,