The sky was clear, but the strange sensation of being observed permeated the air as Alden Ash framed his gaze upon a little farmhouse nestled atop a single hill in the town of Summit. It was simply a place where a young boy was raised.
The houses around it were simple, almost primitive. The windows were plain and small and their roofs shingled with rough planks of wood. The house was small, almost quaint compared to many of the other structures around it. It had the appearance of a place where the inhabitants love the simple things in life.
The narrow and winding road which led to it slowly lessened in width and this action led Alden to studying the surrounding areas. He felt as though something was watching him and he had a strange notion that it would be better to maintain a certain distance.
The ground itself seemed different. It was as though he was feeling a slight weakness in it. Alden climbed over the final rise and found himself on a small hill, staring into the outline of the farmhouse.
Alden Ash had been born in the mountain town of Summit and had never known by others as Ash, but never by him as Norman. At a young age, his parents had begun to tell him tales of their past. They had worked for the government, developing experimental technologies and miraculous creations with which to protect mankind.
However, as the level of technology increased, a small rebellion began to form against it, believing that it was making man too dependant on the world surrounding him.
Eventually the rebellion grew strong enough to try and overthrow the government, leading to the government ordering the two of them to defend their works. They were the best ones for the job because they had the ability to create magical tools.
Their superior defense helped the government, who was confined to using non-magical tools, and after the rebellion failed they were awarded medals, as they had saved all that they had worked so hard to create.
However, the government did not know that they had used it to form a portal within which they could exist in the alternate world they had created.
After many years of preparing, they had successfully infiltrated the alternate world and only moments before the attack began they stood by the portal, prepared to flee through it. After a long and taxing fight, they successfully departed the alternate world, plunging into the portal to be reborn back in their home, safe and dry.
Since their departure, they had not ventured back into their home world. However, at the age of sixteen, they had seen a picture in the newspaper of the boy, Alden Ash. A strange mixture of pride and sorrow had surged up within them as they read the brief description of the boy.
Alden was being hailed as one of the greatest explorers in modern times, and it surprised them that they had not been able to track him down all these years. They had wanted to, but they did not know what they could do when they left themselves.
They had attempted to find the boy, but could not. The article had only been a brief description of Alden Ash and it listed his parents' names, but did not know what they looked like, or even their names.
They had traveled to their town, Summit, and its surrounding areas, but could not find any information regarding the boy. All they had was the biographical sketch given in the newspaper, which did not do the boy any justice, as he was always so vibrant and exciting.
They had been commissioned by the government to capture Alden Ash and take him back to the alternate world. However, by this time the boy had matured and had set forth the life of a brilliant and inquisitive explorer.
He had traveled the entire Eastern USA, discovering the things which could have pleased his parents, had they not been trapped in the alternate world. Alden had gone off on his own, traversing the countryside and discovering is not what he had expected.
He had learned that the incidents he had been told about were not exactly what they were. The reports seemed to be based on stories rather than reality, as he came upon houses that he was told he was not supposed to be.
He discovered dead animals which he was told were still protected by the government and farmers who were prohibited from laying a hand on them. He had come across ravines that claimed to tarnish his self-esteem and the fact that he had gotten lost among rows of trees which he was told he could not touch.
He had reached a time in his life when he wanted to believe that the stories his parents had told him were true. He wanted to believe that he had a soul, like them and all of the many folks who were convinced they had one. He so badly wanted to believe that they were genuine in their beliefs of magic and great deeds, though he knew it was simply the tales of their past, which they told to him so that he could more easily learn the art of magic.
He spent most of his time reading about the magic of the world and its history, so that he could learn about the world and its peoples, which seemed so different to what it was supposed to be. A small part of him wanted to know the truthfulness of its legends, which instead of being a dream, they seemed to be what they were.
He wanted to know more about the history of magic, even though he knew that if it was to be taught, it would probably be taught as something ordinary, not as a miracle. He longed for knowledge, of which he was told it was possible to know; but never could.
He thought that someday he would return home, return to the world where magic was a part of daily life, and was not something to be shunned or feared.
