ALL NOVEL Chapter 1: Summoning
A boy lying in his bed just before sunrise, listening to music, was Rio. His room was a chaotic mess, clothes strewn about like the remnants of a battle he had long ago stopped fighting. The walls were cluttered with posters half-faded images of bands, landscapes, and abstract art. But none of it felt like home. He had always been alone, growing up with only his father by his side. The quiet hum of their shared existence was a reminder that love had never truly been a part of it. His father, an ever-present shadow, left for work early and returned late, communicating only through the cold, prepared meals left on the table his sole confirmation that his father had come home that day.
Rio often wondered if his father ever noticed the emptiness in the house, or if he too had grown accustomed to the silence.
Dragging himself out of bed, Rio stumbled over the pile of laundry that had become his bed's companion. He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and carefully retrieved his father's old guitar, the only gift he had ever received. The guitar's wood was worn with age, its strings thin and strained, but it was all Rio had. He wasn't particularly good looking or bad looking, just... plain. His school days were dull, each passing moment a blur of monotony. The constant whispers and giggles of his seatmates—an affectionate couple who seemed to exist in their own bubble of joy only made his isolation feel sharper. Every glance from them, every shared laugh, felt like a reminder that he was alone.
The only escape Rio had from this endless cycle was the bus ride to his comfort spot. The bus journey took twenty minutes, followed by a short two-minute walk. The rhythmic hum of the wheels beneath him was oddly comforting. When he arrived, the abandoned house by the hill near the lake greeted him like an old friend. The view across the water was always breathtaking, the sunset painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and purple, reflecting off the lake's surface like a molten mirror.
Opening his guitar bag, Rio pulled out his instrument, placed one AirPod in his ear, and strummed the strings gently. Music was the one thing that could fill the void, if only for a moment. He played until the sun began to dip below the horizon, the moon rising to take its place, a pale ghost that hovered above the water.
As Rio lost himself in the rhythm, a flicker of movement caught his eye. A shadow crossed the moon's surface, massive and fleeting, but when he blinked, it was gone. He thought nothing of it at first, chalking it up to hunger and exhaustion, but there was something unsettling about it. The night air had begun to cool, and Rio, feeling the weight of the moment, packed up his things and made his way back to the bus stop.
On his walk, the wind began to pick up. The trees swayed, their branches creaking under the pressure of the gusts, but there was something strange about the sound. It wasn't the wind he was hearing. It was laughter. Low, mocking, like a hundred voices whispering in unison. Rio's heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down his spine. He quickened his pace, but the laughter only grew louder, echoing around him, until it seemed to come from everywhere. He turned up the volume on his music, desperate to drown out the sound.
When the bus finally arrived, Rio was more than ready to leave, his skin prickling with unease. He boarded and settled into his seat, still feeling the weight of the eerie laughter pressing against him. But as he glanced out the window, his breath caught in his throat. There, by the side of the road, stood a figure. A small green man, no taller than a child, with wild, tangled hair and a long stick clutched in his hand. His eyes gleamed like polished emeralds, and there was something unnerving about the way he stared at Rio as the bus pulled away.
Rio had read about the Green Man before he knew the folklore, the Celtic legends of the pagan god of the forest. But never in his wildest dreams did he imagine encountering something like this. He brushed it off as his mind playing tricks on him, but the image lingered.
Opening his phone, Rio pulled up a search engine and typed in "Green Man." The results were overwhelming. Pictures of the legendary figure, ancient carvings of the god, and myths of a spirit that breathed life into the woods and forests. His fingers paused over the search bar.
"The Green Man"
>He runs through the forest, breathing life where he can, whispering to the trees. He's known as the Green Man.
>Passing vibrant energy to all living green, perhaps he's been near, yet unseen.
Rio chuckled nervously at the thought of a mythical figure appearing in his own world, thousands of miles away from its origins. But the more he read, the more unsettled he became. Something about the Green Man's presence, combined with the strange events of the day, made him feel like the world was shifting beneath his feet.
His eyes drifted to the 58 unread messages on his phone texts from his father asking where he was. Rio had the habit of putting his phone on Do Not Disturb while he read, wanting to escape the reality of his lonely life. But the sight of the unread messages unsettled him. Something wasn't right.
He switched off Do Not Disturb and dialed his father's number, but it went straight to voicemail. Anxiety began to gnaw at him. Then, in the distance, he heard the unmistakable sound of an explosion. His heart raced as smoke began to billow into the sky, darkening the sunlit streets. Rio could see people running, frantic, their faces twisted in fear. Through the haze, a figure emerged.
It was massive. Towering like a small building, it lumbered forward with an unnatural gait. The troll's skin was mottled and gray, and it carried a club almost as large as its body. The beast's eyes locked onto the panicked crowd, and Rio froze, his blood running cold. The driver, realizing the danger, slammed on the gas and swerved away, but the troll pursued them, each step of its enormous feet sending tremors through the ground.
Just as Rio thought they were safe, the troll threw its club, blocking the road ahead. The bus slammed into the giant weapon, sending passengers flying through the windshield. Rio watched in horror as the driver's body twisted unnaturally, his spine protruding grotesquely. Blood and flesh covered the road, the sight too grotesque to comprehend.
Rio, lucky to escape with only bruises, stumbled out of the wreckage, his ankle twisted painfully beneath him. The smell of blood and carnage filled the air, and he could hear the screams of those who hadn't been as fortunate. In a panic, the remaining passengers scrambled to escape, pushing and shoving in a desperate bid for survival.
Then Rio saw it the troll's massive hand reaching down, gripping the bus as if it were a child's toy. It lifted the vehicle with ease, shaking it violently as the people inside screamed in terror. Rio limped away as fast as his injury allowed, but the sound of the bus being smashed against the road behind him was too much to ignore. The thuds of impact echoed in his ears as the troll began to hunt.
Others hid in terror, but Rio knew better. Hiding was futile. He pushed forward, pain shooting through his leg with each step, but the troll's footsteps grew louder, closer. The earth trembled beneath him, and suddenly Rio lost his balance, crashing to the ground. He looked up to find the troll towering over him, its massive eyes glinting with hunger. The creature's hand pinched his leg like a child holding an insect.
Rio fought back, struggling, punching, and even biting the troll's thick skin. But it was futile. The creature's hide was too tough, its grip unyielding. Finally, Rio's strength failed him, and he lay still, accepting his fate.
↓Welcome, reader and precious adventurer↓ your system update is here
>STR: 6 | > SEN: 6
>STA: 6 | > CHA: 0
>MGC: 6 | > WIS: 12
>INT: 10 | > LUK: -5
>Potential: E#@§r
↑>Skill: Summoning (Skill level: U)↑