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The War of the Gods: Legend
The War of the Gods: Legend
The War of the Gods: Legend
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The War of the Gods: Legend

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In the amazing world of The War of the Gods,
a little boy, named Calven, has found
himself alone and he was wandering
the world with a dark past occupying
his mind. As Calven wandered he shows
purity and gentleness. With that he has
made a few friends who would
help him out.

Mostly, life was pretty normal
for him or as normal as it
would be, other than having
strange dreams every night.
His life was nothing special
until this boy finds a ninja who
was being chased by demons
of the underworld and a griffin that
was caged beneath an abandoned house.

The ninja asks Calven for help escape the demons. Calven also
links minds with the griffin, and it tells this wandering boy that
he was, The One. After that the boys life would never be
the same. He has realized a life of legend with many exciting
adventures involving demons and gods

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateMay 25, 2012
ISBN9781477210208
The War of the Gods: Legend
Author

The Wanderer

Matthew Zuch has been writing most of his life. When he was a boy, he would write down thoughts and expand on those ideas. He also has some background in college on the subject. Matthew enjoys writing. It keeps him thinking creatively and he can get some thoughts out. He also lives in a town where nearly everyone knows each other and not much goes on. Matthew lives life for his family and friends.

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    Book preview

    The War of the Gods - The Wanderer

    © 2012 by The Wanderer. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 05/16/2012

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-1021-5 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-1020-8 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2012909080

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    Introduction

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Chapter 20

    Chapter 21

    Chapter 22

    Chapter 23

    Chapter 24

    Chapter 25

    Chapter 26

    Chapter 27

    Chapter 28

    Chapter 29

    Chapter 30

    Chapter 31

    Introduction

    A boy is born . . .

    Born with a new sunrise,

    Giving him a destiny

    That a seemingly normal boy has.

    He is special: and no one knows what.

    Born on sunrise

    Since that day, quite a bit has happened to the boy. He didn’t get to know his glamorous mother. She died because of a harsh and brutal affair between her husband and her best friend Quenn. Her face was bright and thin, and her curly hair shined bright red in the sun. She was tiny and cheerful.

    The boy’s father on the other hand was a big brute. He was muscular and covered with tattoos. His head was shaved and he wore a leather jacket over his clothes. He had a five o’clock shadow. He had no feelings for anything that happened to the people he once loved.

    A tragedy happened only a year after the boy was born. His mother tried to get a divorce, but when she left . . . her husband followed in the night. He followed her through cornfields, also on mountains and hills, and he followed her through the blistering sun of the desert. The boy was with his mother during this whole time, oblivious of everything that had been going on around him. Not knowing why they were always going or why his mother was always in panic.

    The boy’s mother knew that his father would follow so she tried to shake him off. Everywhere she went he found her. One night at an inn, in the big city of New York, the boy’s father followed his wife into a room to the far end of a shack, that didn’t fit with the tall buildings around it.

    The inn was specially made to hide secrets and anyone who goes into it. It smelled like rotting carcasses, and it had an eerie feeling to it. The windows were tinted a dark color. Everything was black or a dark shade of blue. The carpets were also a dark shade of blue. The bedspread on the bed, in the middle of the room, had some designs full of snakes, dark clouds, flames, and worst of all the shape of a seven headed dragon. There were no lights, but a candle lit the eerie room.

    The boy’s mother was sitting at the end of the room, trembling, holding her only love and passion. As she was sitting there, trembling, the bundle in her arms started crying. She looked up with depressed eyes, tears leaking down her ghostly face. Mark, how do you keep finding me? she said with a big sob.

    My dear sweet Sofiah, it isn’t hard to figure out where you are planning to go. I’ve known you for too long, but now, Sofiah, it is time for you to go. He pulled out a gun, with a silencer on the barrel and pointed it at Sofiah’s sad face, Now it is time to take little Calven and start a new life for him.

    No Mark . . . Please . . . Don’t do this. We can . . .

    It’s too late Sofiah, I’m done with you. You did your part of my plan, now it is my turn to finish it . . . goodbye my sweet Sofiah. He pulled the trigger. Sofiah fell to the ground, with a muffled sound. She lay motionless with sad eyes, blood dripping from her small frail body, and the baby madly crying in her arms.

    Mark grabbed Calven and left the inn. They went back to their home, a small shack in the valley of a small village. This village was very small, smaller than people know. It was so small, only the people that lived in the village, and guards, knew it existed. The government hid the village and forgot about it because it was made up of ex-convicts who could not live in the outside world. It was supposedly in the big state of California. This village was full of shacks and people scrounging for food. The people could barely find enough money to get clothing on their backs.

    Mark and his family moved here when he found out Sofiah, was pregnant with Calven. He chose this place for his hiding spot to train and teach Calven, without anyone knowing what he was doing. He also chose it because he knew that the government had the wall surrounding it, and they never check what was going on inside.

    Mark started taking care of the little boy Calven. As Calven got older and stronger, Mark’s attitude became crueler. He was training little Calven to be a blood thirsty assassin. Calven learned to kill for the glory and joy, and to hide secrets from everyone. He also learned to hide in the shadows and stay hidden ’till the right time. As Calven got older he was forced to perform more difficult tests and skills. Once Calven turned eight he started to understand what he was doing he had the instinct that he didn’t want to kill, but he had only one choice to stop his father from getting more trainees.

    One day Mark gave Calven a weapon to handle. As soon as Calven got hold of the weapon he pointed it at his father. With tears in his eyes, as if fighting himself, he pulled the trigger and watched with a blank stare as his father’s motionless body fall to the floor. Mark was no more than a lonely soul searching for a place to live.

    Calven fell to his knees and put his face in his hands with drops of tears leaking through the cracks of his fingers . . . right then he stopped crying, stood up, and looked at the body of his father, in a bloody mess. There and then he made an oath to himself, I never kill again as long I live. I be happy for rest of days. Then he left the house with his father’s body lying there, with blood all over, and the weapon next to it.

    Calven walked passed dark sacks with creepy eyes following him. The ex-convicts were ready to go in for the kill, but for some reason they decided to let the boy go. Calven kept walking and a few minutes later he was at the gates of the security wall. Tears were still in his eyes, and he let loose an earsplitting cry.

    The gate in front of Calven opened slightly to show a guard. This guard had a bulletproof vest and cargo pants with a rifle in his hands. His face was unreadable, had no emotion in it, except the boredom in his eyes. The guard saw Calven in front of him, crying, and excitement came to the man’s eyes. What’s wrong? said the guard.

    I lost and alone, said the sad little boy.

    Where are your parents and why are you on this side of the wall? Wait, you’re the boy of that bulky man Mark, aren’t you?

    Yes, and he dead, with mommy.

    Well let us take you and give you some shelter, along with protection. This village is dangerous, and you are alone. You can tell us what happened with your parents inside.

    Okay, said Calven, and the guard grabbed him. They went inside and closed the gate . . .

    Calven and the guard sat in a comfortable room with chairs and a television in the corner. This boxed room was large. At the far end of the room was a desk and the guard was sitting behind it, on a chair, his fingers crossed and his elbows on the desk. Pictures of the guard’s friends and family were hung on the walls. Calven was sitting on a cushioned chair on the other side of the desk. So what is your name boy? asked the guard in a polite way.

    Calven, said the boy with tears still leaking from his eyes.

    How old are you?

    Eight . . . I think

    Have you ever been to school? asked the guard, surprised that the boy doesn’t fully know his age.

    What . . . school?

    School is a place where kids like you go and learn and get friends.

    No, I doesn’t go to school, said Calven with the tears drying up.

    It’s ‘I didn’t’, but you’ll learn. So what happened to your parents?

    Daddy said he shot mommy, and I kill daddy.

    What?! the guard stood up out of his chair, Mark killed your mother, and did I hear right? You killed your dad? The guard’s arms were trembling.

    Yes, tears started the fall in the boy’s eyes again, I feel daddy isn’t a good guy. I doesn’t have other way.

    The guard sat back down in his chair and said, Why did you say Mark was a bad guy. I’ve never seen him do anything bad, but I was always curious why he moved here. He said more to himself than Calven.

    Daddy told me he kill mommy, and he is assassin. He teach me how be assassin. I doesn’t feel good daddy is assassin. I doesn’t have choice, he teach and kill. I doesn’t want to I doesn’t, but he bad. Calven was balling crazily in the chair, his hands and feet were constantly moving and he fell to the ground.

    Calven . . . CALVEN, the guard walked over to the boy. He took one of the boy’s flailing arms and lifted the boy up. When Calven felt himself being lifted up he felt lighter and a little happier; his tantrum stopped. Calven, it is okay . . . we’ll figure this out. The guard put the boy in his arms and hugged him to calm him more.

    Chapter 1

    Since that fateful day of his father’s death, ten years have passed. Calven lived in many different places, gaining friends and a reputation from his wandering. His life was good and pure. He didn’t do his deeds for money, but he did them to have some shelter for the night. Some of the places he lived in were no more than a tent, but other places were like mansions to him. This young man helped where he could. By doing these deeds, he thought his painful memory would drift away, but every night he would have the same nightmare over and over again.

    This nightmare disturbed his waking thoughts. His mother would be screaming in the distance, and his father finding a living through hot flames in the depths of Hell. His father was being tormented by a creature in these flames. This creature had horns long and white. Its face was twisted and crude, as if it had been burned for many years. The creature was wearing a dark robe, and the robe had a symbol of a red three headed dragon on the chest. The back of the robe had the same symbol, only enlarged.

    Calven’s father was being whipped in the back with a whip of fire. Every time the whip hit Calven’s father’s back, the man screamed in pain as the evil in Mark was slowly creeping out of his body. He was slowly changing shape and colors in front of Calven’s eyes. Every time Calven had this dream, his father was changing more and more. Demonic wings sprouted, and his teeth got sharper. His flesh was boiling off, and his face was growing a snout, like a dog.

    Calven woke up from this nightmare with sweat and tears flowing down his face. The tears were tears of guilt, at seeing his father being beat on and changed in front of him. On the other hand, in the dreams he had of his mother, she was in a different, brighter place.

    The dreams of his mother didn’t bring him to tears, but the dreams of where she was and what she was doing gave him a light feeling in his weary soul. These dreams gave Calven the motivation to live and the motivation to continue on what he was doing. To live life to the fullest and help out the world the best he can.

    In the dreams of his mother, he saw her living in a temple bigger than the world itself. Her room in the temple was bigger than a house, and was colored white. There was a window on the side of the room covered with white window drapes. Every time she looked out the window, she saw a city of power and life. The streets of the white city were full of living souls, and full of magnificent colors. None of the colors were dark and depressing.

    Further to the south, away from the city’s gates, was land full of green grass and tall trees. There was a road made from the magic power of the gods. The road was crowded with human souls who had just died and were being tested at the gates.

    Away from her window in the room was a bed, bigger than a normal bed, bigger than even a king sized bed. It was also white and white drapes hung from bars floating in the air. A dresser stood next to the door. The rest of the room was open with white carpet. The walls were magical and would change to the way Sofiah wanted them to be. On the walls were pictures of Calven as a baby and a color of green to represent peace . . .

    Calven was watching as Sofiah wandered the halls of the temple exploring rooms that were open to everyone. He watched her meet many people living in the rooms and they saw interesting things. There were many collectables in one person’s room. This person had a collection of antiques she had found. This lady looked old, but she was alive and kicking (not literally.) She collected odd things also, like sticks and twigs. Though she was crazy, she was wise, and she knew everything about the things she collected and her stories. Sofiah was tired, after listening to a story. The story was long and boring, but she listened. She told the lady bye, and left the room.

    Sofiah was walking down the hall. She heard some rumors that a boy had killed his father and he didn’t get accepted

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