So, I absolutely love Quest stories but never got around to writing my own. I came across someone doing one on this forum, and it inspired me to give a casual try at it. Fair warning, I do a cursory grammar check, but let me know if anything super unwieldy appears. Crit, if you have any, is welcome. The way Quests go is that at the end of each scene/chapter, the writer puts up a poll and the readers can vote on which path the story will take. I'll close the poll when I start writing the next bit (24+ hours later). Without any further ado...
Scria was its most beautiful at eventide. When the sun sank below the horizon and tourmaline light echoed upon the clouds; when city noise dimmed, and creatures of the air readied for sleep. It was no wonder why the Guardians chose this world to lodge the Uldavian diplomats. Lowest crime rate, the best schools, serene atmosphere, he could go on and on about why everyone adored Scria. But in his humble opinion it had nothing on Atquati. Sure, trash and crime loaded its streets, but it held a fatal beauty too, etched in midnight fireworks, mermaid water dances, wet-dark roads, and darker corners, and to him it was perfect. It was home.
Perhaps fate would return him there one day.
“Tom.” His name was a lamentation on his mother’s lips. She touched his cheek briefly in affection, before dropping her gaze and sighing. For the first time, he felt a pang of remorse. “I don’t know what to do with you. What will your father think?”
He took her clawed hands in his. Soft silver, a shade lighter than his own. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t meant for college. Books, reading, five years of studying — if I hadn’t been expelled, I would’ve quit on my own within a few months. You know that.”
She drew her hands away to cross them over her chest. “Expelled! Within a week! Only my son...” All four pale violet eyes side-eyed him. “Do you know how upset your father will be? He had to petition the university board to let you enroll. He put his tongue on the line!”
“I’ll write him an apology. I promise.”
“Write? You aren’t coming home?”
Tom shook his head. “I met someone yesterday at the bar. Offered me a job when they heard what happened. I know it isn’t what you guys wanted for me, but I need to find my own path. Trust me on this. Please.”
After a hug, she acquiesced. “Count yourself lucky your father has five other children to push around. You will write to me once a week at the very minimum. But tell me, at least, who it is I am entrusting with my beloved son?”
PICK THE GENRE
[Detective Gumshoe] — Buddy Cop
[Madame Ichora] — Political Intrigue
[Racket van Blitz IV] — Adventure
[Aeryona] — Revenge