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Just A Child's Tale



a part of Just A Child's Tale, by Shirogane.


Shirogane holds sovereignty over Kyrik, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

647 readers have been here.


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Kyrik is a part of Just A Child's Tale.

6 Characters Here

Leonard Hardwick [2] "Huh? Sorry, I wasn't listening."
Peter Lukeson [2] "Don't worry everyone, the greatest person to ever live has arrived!"
Caspian Ozpin [1] "We're off to see the Wizard"
Iris Montgomery [1] wip-taculous
Ryden Burnham [1] "Sacrifice isn't always by choice."

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6 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Iris Montgomery Character Portrait: Ryden Burnham Character Portrait: Leonard Hardwick Character Portrait: Caspian Ozpin Character Portrait: Peter Lukeson Character Portrait: Allison Bonneville
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Holding the book in his hands, Ryden watched his two children from behind pages of Atlas Shrugged. They all were bundled up on his bed, waiting impatiently for their nightly storytelling. It was a ritual of theirs to send them to bed with their minds swimming with good stories. Nightmares don't happen if you dream about being a dragon. Setting the book on the nightstand, Ryden leaned in close to his children. Emelia wore a big grin, hugging onto one of the pillows and kicking her feet.

"Since Alex got an A on his test, he gets to pick what the story is about."

There was a mixture of protests and cheers, his son slamming his fists down onto the mattress as he got to his knees, "One about a hero fighting a monster! The little boy exclaimed, his twin pouting next to him as Ryden began his story. It always felt organic, making up a tale that captivated his children. They were always a good inspiration for his novels. They sat there, listening to him intently, their attention never leaving as he painted worlds around them. As he spoke, Ryden caught Olivia in the doorway, a small smile on his lips.

"I think it's time for bed," He said after a bit, causing the twins to protest. "It's a school night, now go and I'll come tuck you in." As the two kids slid off of the bed and left the room, Ryden got up and walked over to his wife. She smiled and placed a quick kiss against his lips.

"I didn't think I'd be at work so late," She said with a quiet sigh, pulling her hair out of a bun, "What did they have for dinner?" Olivia looked drained as she looked up at Ryden. Bags hid noticeably behind her concealer, her movements sluggish and exhausted from a long shift at the hospital.

"Macaroni and cheese," He chuckled, shrugging at her look of irritation, "I'm no chef, Dear. I ordered take out for you, it's in the fridge. I need to go work on my novel so I'll be in my office."

He gave her a gentle kiss on her temple before leaving the bedroom, his shoulders sagging as he heard her muttering about the liquor he hid in his office. He was getting over his constant addictions but it was always easy for him to fall back. It was a demon, coaxing him with a promise of pleasure and a cure for his depression. It wrapped its black fingers around his eyes and forced him to ignore all he cherished. Sinking into a seat in his office, he eyed the bottle of spirits before grabbing it and pouring a small drink. One drink won't kill me. He thought to himself, taking a sip and grimacing at the burn that slithered its way down his throat.


Cold water doused Ryden's sleep into a sputtering of curses. Covering his face with his hands, he wiped the water away from his eyes. God, he didn't even want to look up, a pounding against his skull so fierce he thought he was dying. "Get up!" He heard a screech, groaning as the noise made his head feel as if it had been cracked. "I said get up!" The voice boomed again, delivering a hard kick to his side.

"Jesus fuck, give me a minute!" He snapped back, pulling himself into a sitting position before fully opening his eyes. He was greeted with the grimace of an old man, teeth rotted out and dressed in rags. He was sitting in straw, a horse watching the two from its stall. There are no horses in Boston. He thought to himself, gripping at his head. Was he dreaming? What kind of vivid trip was this? Had he relapsed? All these thoughts went through his head simultaneously, the old man yanking him by his shirt.

"Who the fuck 'er you?" He demanded, "Why are you slumberin' with my horses?" The old man asked, a chortle following as he gave Ryden a peculiar look.

Ryden didn't respond, only watching the old man in confusion. "I am terribly sorry, but where am I?" He asked, picking some straw out of his hair. Everything smelled of horse shit, he was now soaked and his skull felt as if it were about to split in half. What the Hell was going on?

"The village of Tiel."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Tiel of Kyrik, boy!" He laughed, the sound turning into a whooping cough, "How much did ya drink to not remember where you are?" Standing up, Ryden felt his heart seize in his throat. He was still in the clothes from last night. The last thing he could remember was drinking a bit while working on his story. "Yer a peculiar looking fellow. You come from across the ocean?"

Shaking his head, Ryden walked out of the barn. He was on a farm, a valley stretching out for miles all around. In the distance was a town, the buildings looking run down and almost primitive. He couldn't help the panic that started to bud in his stomach. He needed to get home to his kids and wife. Hopefully, someone from the town could help him. He started walking towards it, ignoring the geezer as he called for him back. Someone must know what to make of this.


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Character Portrait: Peter Lukeson
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Peter Lukeson


The night was silent, a soft breeze floated through the trees, freeing leaves from their fragile hold to stability. A few people passed by on the street in silence as they travelled to and from wherever they wanted to, a few cars passed by but this wasn’t an arterial street and traffic was kept to a minimum. No dogs barked, no assholes swore and threw beer bottles, hardly a peep was heard.

Until you looked up and saw the light show happening from the windows of a high rise apartment. That’s where the real action was.

On top of a twenty story building sat a full-floor apartment. Meant for the rich and/or famous, a blaring gathering of bodies was underway with its own light show, entertainment and general rowdiness that one expected of a planned event rather than some house party. Inside was a finely polished hardwood floor, complete with a full bar, more than enough room to get up and dance, a massive living room area complete with pool tables and dart boards, and not to mention a DJ set up in the center of it holding onto his headphones and blasting techno music to the crowd of several dozen attendees.

Women of...questionable integrity danced with less and less clothes by the minute. Men acted like men, drinking lots of beer, ogling the women and testing their strength against each other in a complete hurricane of testosterone and alcohol. Members of both sex acted with less and less inhibitions as the night wore on, until finally a well dressed man stepped up to the podium so to speak, motioning for the DJ to cut the music for a moment. He swept his hair to the side, trying to disguise the sweat starting to slowly bead on his brow, motioning to another to crank up the AC to another level. He clasped his hands together, giving a wide smile as everyone stopped to give him their attention. Oh how he loved this part of the night, where all eyes were on him and transfixed by his very being, as they all should be. After all, he was the host and life of the party.

“Well, needless to say I think we’re all having a hell of a time here, in my not-so-modest abode!” Peter said in a clear and nearly booming voice to the half drugged and half drunk occupants of his apartment. He smiled a toothy grin as everyone cheered, some clinking glasses and others chugging whatever beverage they currently had in their hand. “But I need you all to shut up and try to focus for one second here!” Peter waited for the sound to dim down to a manageable level for a moment before continuing in his most serious voice. “We are here to say goodbye to a dear friend of ours. A man, who to us and the rest of the world, is now dead...because that son of a bitch is moving to New York to head up a new law firm! Get the fuck up here Steven!” Peter watched as a very drunk Steven managed to get his way through the crowd and approach him. He gave a hug, but it took a lot of effort for Steven to even do that.

Naturally the crowd, in their drug and booze addled minds started chanting; “Speech! Speech! Speech!” Peter gave a bow to the crowd and joined them although he didn’t start chanting, slipping past all of them to take a seat at his bar. He watched with a lopsided smile as Steven gave possibly the worst speech in history to people who wouldn’t remember it by tomorrow morning. No, they wouldn’t remember this speech tomorrow, and two weeks from now they wouldn’t remember Steven, but they would remember the party. They would remember who threw that party, and Peter felt his heart pump with the excitement of victory. He had gotten what he wanted, once again, while convincing everyone else he was doing it for someone else.

It was somewhere around the two minute mark in Steven’s speech that he decided to redecorate the floor with whatever happened to be in his stomach at the moment. Peter grimaced slightly at the sight while everyone else simply cheered. Peter snapped his fingers at the bartender, pointing at the disgusting pile of stomach juice, and watched the bartender sigh and walk around the counter with a bucket and mop. “Hey!” Peter yelled after him. “I’m not paying you to give me attitude, do your job!” With that business done with, Peter maneuvered himself towards the center of the apartment as the party took off on a second wind, sliding in between two scantily clad women whose names he simply couldn’t remember, placing an arm around both of them and immediately they pulled in closer. He knew it was because of the intoxication, but frankly he liked his explanation better.

It was because he was a God among men, high up in the clouds sitting in his castle.

Peter woke slowly, a dull pain throbbing in the small of his back as if he had been sleeping on a rock. His eyes opened with the associated blurriness of a morning after a party and he blinked several times, sitting up and rubbing his eyes to help with his sight. The pain in his back refused to go away, but it wasn’t until he was actually able to see that he saw why. The room he was in was anything but his. His was filled head to toe with trophies, achievements, pictures of him and his friends, and exactly 5 mirrors so that no matter what direction he was facing, he would be able to see himself both from the front and back.

Instead the room around him was bare...actually not just bare, prehistoric would have been a better word. Everything was made of wood, including the bed. The bedding must have been made of the worst kind of...Peter wanted to say wool. The window hung open, a cold draft picking up as he looked down and realized that he had fallen asleep in his suit. He was more annoyed at that than anything else as he desperately tried to flatten the creases out of his pants and jacket to no avail. Now he just looked like a ragtag desperate door to door salesman. Peter grimaced to himself, looking around the room for a mirror and finding none. Where the hell was he? He didn’t drink that much did he? Did they go to some renaissance fair and pass out in one of their hotels? Where was everyone else? He could have sworn he didn’t go to bed alone, so where were they at least? Maybe everyone got up and left before him? If they did, he’d make sure they got an earful for leaving him behind.

He walked to the door, scoffing at the old fashioned slide lock on it, and pushed on into the hallway. This revealed an aging looking architecture as each step caused a creak, the wood and stone walls looked barely maintained and everything was covered in dust. He had to admit, they paid attention to detail here. Getting to the end of the hall, Peter descended the stairs attempting to fix his hair as best he could, rubbing his face and feeling the tiny bristles of not having shaved yet. He pushed open the door and was revealed with a campy restaurant/saloon area. A couple of people turned to look at them, dressed down in what he could only guess was medieval garb, looking more akin to blankets than actual clothes. As he stepped into the room, he could feel more eyes fall upon him, and while normally he would enjoy the attention, he didn’t feel like this was the good kind. Naturally his instincts proved right as a burly creature of a woman stomped out from behind the bar table.

“Now who ta fuck are ya? How did ya get up in mah rooms?!” Her voice was slurred and thick, but he didn’t think it was because of alcohol. Peter stared at her for a moment, looking back at the door then back to the woman.


The woman pushed roughly on Peter’s shoulder, even though she only came up to his chest she had some heft behind her arms. “Ya heard me ya skinny white fooker! I dun remember you comin in last night!”

“Well that’s convenient...cause I don’t remember coming in here either.” Peter said, everyone in the bar area looking at him by this point. He noticed that they were all dressed down, and his suit was probably drawing at least half of the attention. The way they glared at him gave him a rare moment of unease, wishing he could be wearing something else for the first time since he could remember.

“Convenient?! Ya fookin spent tha night didn’t ya? That’ll be ten coppa! Pay up!” Peter stared at her again for a moment before shaking his head.

“Ten copper? What is know what, it doesn’t matter.” Peter reached into his jacket pocket and produced a thin black wallet. He pulled out a card and handed it to the woman. “That should cover whatever tab I had.”

“The fook is this?” The woman asked, staring at the piece of plastic as if it were completely alien to her. Peter sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose.

“Look, it’s a mastercard. I appreciate your commitment to the bit, but if you could just swipe that card so I could get out of here and figure out where the hell everyone else went, I would be extremely grateful.” Peter glanced over at her, and she had the most incredulous look on her face. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a debit machine? Oh for the love of…” Peter reached into his wallet once more and produced ten dollars. “There, cash. Can I go now?” The woman gripped the paper, waving it in front of her face before scrunching it up into a ball.

“Ya think ya can just pay me off in papah? Or...whatever this bloody thing is?” The woman held up the card and scrunched it into a ball before Peter could stop her.

“The fuck are you doing? Give me back my card you dumb bitch!” Peter yelled at her, only for her to grip his collar and pull him down with a rough tug.

“If ya can’t pay, ya work off yer debt! In the kitchen with ya!” She started tugging Peter behind the counter, naturally he tried resisting but the woman had a grip of iron. In a fit of desperation, Peter grabbed a bottle from the table and smashed it over her head as he was dragged by. She dropped, groaning slightly as bits of blood started to flow from her head. He dropped the broken bottle, fixing his collar up slightly. He was about to make sure she was alright, even if she was nuts he didn’t want to hurt her like that, but he noticed that everyone in the bar was starting to climb to their feet. He looked at them in surprise.

“You saw her! She assaulted me! She grabbed me by the collar! She dra...None of this matters to you guys does it.” They all started closing in on him as all his hopes were dashed quickly. “Right...fuck.”

A few moments later Peter dived out of the second floor window, landing head first into a muddy road dazed for a few moments. He slowly got to his feet, hearing angry yelling as the people who had followed him up the stairs quickly ran to get back down to the main floor. Peter didn’t wait, taking off like a bullet, not wasting any time to take in his surroundings until he was positive that the bar goers were no longer after him. Breathing heavily from the exertion, he looked down at his suit and found it completely ruined. He slammed his fist into the wall he was leaning against and looked up. He would have to get another made, and while he didn’t mind getting fitted for one, he particularly liked this black model.

Now all he had to do was figure out where the hell he was and get back home. He crept through the alley, and at the end was met with a face full of market square. Horses with and without carriages carried both people and cargo, stalls filled with trinkets, food and other materials played host to salespeople peddling their wares. The square was filled with people of every shape and size, but they all shared something in common. Every one of them was reminiscent of the medieval ages. It took this scene unfolding in front of Peter for his mind to finally grasp the reality of the situation. He wasn’t in Kansas anymore, and his mouth whispered a single phrase.

“Where the fuck am I?”


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Character Portrait: Leonard Hardwick
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4:30 PM and it could not have been any more welcome. Class would be let out in a short 15 minutes and Total War had been calling his name all day. The last time he saved the game, he was laying siege to Echigo and he was excited to continue it. Date Masumune shall bathe in the blood of the Mogami by sundown this time and he could not wait to see it.


By now, it was almost as if he could actually hear it calling his name...



"Yo, LEO."


Leo, after finally coming back to the land of the living, investigated the disturbance with a quick look to his right. It was Joseph.

"Sheesh, you ain't dead-now, aren' ya?"

"Nah, man. Just waiting for class to finish up. What's up?"

He was always in his own little world, the boy called Leo. If he found his way into a boring situation, he would make his own way out with his head and never look back. It was nice having a mind like his, able to keep himself entertained on a whim. In a way, it was what made him who he was.
Logically, one would normally believe who they were allowed them to do certain things, not the other way around, but Leo believed himself to be different from that cut. He was creative, yet mentally tamed. He was awkward but socially sound. He was a nobody, yet here he was, studying at the University of Penn State, nearing the end of his final year of study in Computer Science before taking his bachelor's degree and using it to land one hell of a starting career.
His head made him the man he was, not the other way around, and he enjoyed feeding it. Leo believed that that was what made him better than who he was previously, week-by-week.

He calmly itched the right side of his nose as he looked over to the boy next to him. Leo was a kid, or, at least he looked like one. His skin was soft and freckled, his eyes were all-round juvenile in appearance, and his lips looked gentle and feminine. He had the appearance of a 17 year-old who probably gets mistaken a lot as a super tall 14 year-old and then, upon further review, is noticed to-in fact-be a 17 year-old...except Leo, a 24 year-old, was none of those things. Unfortunately for him, while he was 6 feet tall, he was only 140 lbs., and nobody ever seemed to be able to take him seriously. In the rare event that someone would actually address him, he would be generally talked down to or even straight-up conversationally abandoned.
It was annoying. Goes to show how much people act like sheep, unable to look past physical appearance before making a judgement call on reality.

"Nothin' bredduh, just lookin' to see if you're alright. Swear t' God, dude, you must die and come back to life, like, four times a day."

Joe was...well, he was someone to talk to. Leo would not go as far as to call him a friend but the guy was definitely friendly. They ended up sitting next to each other the first day of class and, while he was a bit awkward like Leo is, the guy was social and would have tried to get along with whoever he happened to sit next to.
It just-so-happened that Leo would be the first one he stumbled upon. One could say he was an acquaintance.

Leo simply shrugged.

Joe shook his head. "What exactly goes on in that head o' yours every time you drift off like that? Y'ain' thinkin' o' packin' an uzi next time you come to class are ya?" He laughed.

"Yeah, and you're first on my list," Leo said flatly.

"...Dude, I was kidding."

"So was I. Calm the fuck down."

Joe rolls his eyes, trying to appear like he was not about to shit his pants but it was easy for Leo to see the truth.

The boy went back to his work in an effort to get as much done as he could before dismissal. He sighed loudly before dropping his shoulders and lifted his chin to the ceiling.


There was a disturbance in the row directly in front of the two boys. One of the other students scooted back in his chair and turned around.

"Joe. Seriously, nobody thinks you're entertaining. Shut the hell up."

Nathan. It was plain to see he was easily annoyed. He never did anything but be annoyed. Leo did not mind him but he has constantly butt heads with Joe all year and things have started to get a little rough as of late. Perhaps Nathan was reaching his limit with Joe; perhaps Joe was just tired of being told to suppress his regular way of acting. It mattered not.
Either way, their time to come to blows as long-since been due and it seemed like it would for almost every day this past week now.

"Quit bein' so touchy, man. I ain't botherin' nobody," Joe said, brushing off the command for silence.

"It's bothering me. Look, would you just be quiet for one day? You're always so fucking obnoxious."

Joe, who normally has a smirk permanently glued to his face, seems to let his lips twitch downward just a little.

"That's new..." Leo thought.

"Hey. Fuck you, dude. I don't need none of your bullshit. Ain'chyer ma ever teach ya about men and how they ain't suppose' to get hurt over a few words, like some punk bitch?"

Leo's eyebrows raised. He has never seen Joseph ever really get too worked up before. At least, not this quick.

Things were definitely going down hill quite fast this time...

"How about a fist, asshole?" Nathan questioned, rising to his feet. "Did your 'ma' ever teach you about that?"

Yeah, things are going downhill VERY fast.

"My Dad did," Joe said, also rising to his feet while his eyes sized Nathan up. His expression finally dropped entirely into animosity. "an' I know-heh-I know he taught me much harder than you're funny-ass ever could."

The two men stared each other down, completely quiet for what seemed like ages.


"...We'll see," said Nathan, breaking the silence just before the professor called the class dismissed...


"Eeeeveerrrythiiiiinng~allllriiiiiight~?" Leo asked as they walked through campus.

"Never better," Joe replied through a malfunctioning grin. "Finally gedda remove the stick from Nate's ass and shove it back down 'is throat."

Leo pursed his lips.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, dude. Think about it rationally. It's the middle of the day and, if you're caught-"

"Look, bredduh. You're m'friend-you're a cool guy. And, as a friend, I need t' ask ya not to-...jus-..jus' don' deny me this."

Leo was taken aback.

Friend?...Huh...Since when did I ever act like a friend? You were more friendly anyway.

"Uuh.....I-I-oh-..Okay...I guess..."

However, now more than ever, Leo did not seem to like the idea of a fight in broad day.

They made it all the way to the parking lot with not sign of Nathan and, for some reason, Leo could not help but actually feel relief in the two getting to their cars without incident. He could not help but sigh as he placed his bag in the back seat of his ride.

...But Joe was not as oblivious as Leo was...

"There he is! C'mon, dude."

Leo stumbled with his words.

"U-uhm...okay, I guess."

"'EY!" Joe called out.

Nathan looked up from his keys to the approaching men and calmly returned them to his pocket before stepping out from behind the driver side of his car and into the open lot.

"Joe..." Leo struggled out. However, nobody seemed to hear him.

"So, you hadn't left yet. Good-I was hoping you didn't turn into a little bitch," Nathan said, practically spitting the words from his mouth.

"You fuckin' wish, ass-wipe!"

"Guys..." Leo quietly pleaded with the two.

"Doesn't sound so far-fetched to me," Nathan accused. "All you ever do is hide behind that stupid-ass grin on your face.-Like, you think you're better than everybody or something?"

"Hell no," Joe yelled, his eyes sizing up the man in front of him again. "Everyone else's fine. YOU'RE the ONLY one who seems t'have a problem with me so I KNOW I'm better than YOU, mother fucker!"

"HEY!" Leo yells.

"FUCK YOU!!!" Nathan screams as he postures up.

He did not understand why-He could not understand why-but, upon sensing the dramatic change in energy, Leo stepped forward with the intent of putting a stop to what was happening before him...He simply had to.

"Guys!", he yelled just before stepping between the two.

Suddenly, the world went fuzzy around him. What had happened? Everything was spinning.

...Were they spinning? Everything was moving too fast to tell but one thing was for sure, he was on the pavement. That much he could feel as Leo's world began turning black. At least...that and pain.

...But even the pain quickly began to slip from his mind.

"Dude, what the fuck did you just do?!".


...Leo's eyes slowly drifted open, the saliva of sleep's kiss still drenched his eyes and hid the world around from him.

"Wh-...What happened..." Leo moaned.

He could hear the distant sound of-...was that wood chopping?

"...Hey...who's there?"

A gentle breeze pushed fresh air into his face.

...Fresh air which he could have swore carried the heavy stench of manure into the very fibers of his soul.

"Yo, who took a shit??"

Leo violently sat up, wiping his eye and then freezing as his hand fell.

"...What the...fuck?"

He laid in a dirt alleyway between two wooden structures. Directly in front of him...was a horse tied to a rail.


"What the fuck?" Leo repeated.

The boy scanned his surroundings, looking for clues as to his whereabouts but could find none. He looked down to find his clothes were the same set, so it was unlikely that his apparent unconscious field trip was TOO drastic. But...where was he? Who brought him there?

Leo tried to remember what exactly happened to him. He had been walking with Joseph and they encountered Nathan in the parking lot...

...Then they...argued?

He could not recall any events following that moment.

And now, he was out in the middle of nowhere with nobody there to explain what happened to him. Great.

Best get up for a look around. Maybe someone can tell me where I am or how to get back...

Leo struggled to his feet, using the side of the building on his right to assist him. From there, he walked forward to peak around the corner. Before him was like a glimpse into the middle ages. People passed up the road in odd-looking clothes, horses appeared to be the only thing moving cargo around, and the source of wood chopping seemed to be from a man collecting wood to place inside of a furnace, where raw material awaited its turn to be shaped into fine metal.

...Great, they dropped me off in one of those history actor towns. I didn't even know there WAS one of those around here!

It was the obvious conclusion. All he could hope for now was that none of them took their jobs TOO seriously because he knew, if that were the case, he would have to spend a good half-hour of his time trying to convince the actors to give him the information he needed.

Alright, Leo. You've seen that episode of South Park. You can do this...

With renewed confidence, he took a deep breath and stepped off, determined to get it all over with so he could make it back to his dorm and make himself some ramen noodles.