*set clothing "a hooded sweatshirt and jeans"
*temp metal false
*temp wood false
*temp bfgender "female"
*temp bfhe "she"
*temp bfhim "her"
*temp bfhis "her"
*temp bf false
*temp hunters "3"
*temp bodydrain false
*temp bite false
*temp grab false
*temp stare false
*temp track false
*temp swimming false
*temp cheerleading false
*temp basketball false
*temp bfname "bfname"
*temp bfgender "male"
*temp bfhe "he"
*temp bfhim "him"
*temp bfhis "his"
*temp bfgender "female"
*temp bfhe "she"
*temp bfhim "her"
*temp bfhis "her"
*temp bf false
*temp hunters "3"
*image 1.png
[b]November 9th[/b]
*line_break
*line_break
[i][b]The gods are angry.[/b][/i]

Of course, the gods are always angry, but today, they're furious. 

The sky rumbles above you, and a thick, dark cloud looms in front of the once blue sky. Thunder startles the crowd people standing near you, and you can hear a baby screaming in the distance. The sky has taken on the most aggressive nature.
 
When the gods are angry, they seem to communicate with mortals through weather, and for the last few weeks, the message has been loud and clear. The mortals may not know that the gods control every aspect of their lives, but they must feel some divine interference.

You turn and walk away from the crowd, keeping your hands in your pocket and your hood down over your face. You check behind your shoulder not once, but twice. Anything can happen now, you think to yourself. You haven't bought a new shield charm in months, and although you haven't seen any hunters in a while, the possibility always lingers in the back of your conscience.
 
[i]But not as much as my most recent altercation[/i] you muse. You shiver, recalling your run in with a chimera this spring. The chimera was obviously no hunter, but was just as lethal.

*choice
  #Maybe single handedly taking on one of the most ferocious monsters to ever come from Lycia wasn't the best idea, but I held my own. There was spare driftwood outside a tiny hut, so I fashioned it into a temporary stake.
       *set Strength +15
       *goto chimera
  #Although daunting, it turned out to be quite simple, really. I lured the beast toward the cliff I was standing in front of with the sound of my voice alone, remembering from readings how fond they were of old folk lore, then allowed it to charge at me. At the last possible moment, I jumped out of the way.
       *set Allure +15
       *set Wit +5
       *set Strength +5
       *goto chimera       
  #I managed to compose myself long enough to formulate a plan. The chimera was big, strong, and fast, but I realized that I could easily trick it into the huge lake just outside of the village. 
       *set Wit +15
       *goto chimera

*label chimera
You remember that day; it was just one of the many adventures you found yourself thrown into. After your stay in Illinois, you had caught a plane to New York, and to your surpise, the city had a low hunter presence. You had scarcely seen one in your months of residency. Actually, this is the longest you've stayed in any location since you left Phoenix.

As you approach a particulary deserted street, a woman on the opposite side of the sidewalk swiftly makes her way past you...

And you stop dead in your tracks.
*page_break "Aunt Alice?" you ask.
The woman looks at you with furrowed brows, taking a step closer.

Upon closer inspection, you see that you've made a mistake; though she has your Aunt's dark hair and tall, elegant figure, that's where the similarities begin and end.

The woman shakes her head. "I think you have me confused with someone else."

You nod silently, slightly embarrassed by your mistake. The woman smiles kindly at you, then continues her way down the crowded sidewalk.
*page_break You haven't seen your Aunt Alice in over three years.
Your mother's older sister, Alice Angelis, has raised you since you were born. She took you under her wing, treating you as if you were her own child. 

Incidents like this seem to be happening more and more frequently; you'll turn a corner and mistake a flash of brown hair for your Aunt's signature long locks, or you'll confuse a stranger's voice for her own.

It's not as if this is your first loss. You've lost so many people in the span of your short life already, it seems like a game of chance; who will be next to go?

But the loss of your Aunt left a gaping hole in your life where she used to reside. Some days you feel that absense intensely, like a phantom limb, but other days you're able to ignore it...

This is not one of those days.
*page_break You are two years old.
You lay on a warm bed between a man and a woman. The man, you recall, is a close friend of the woman who feeds you and makes funny faces in attempts to incite your giggles. The man visits you often, and you distinguish him by his dark eyes and quiet demeanor, humming with power. You also know, even at such a young age, that he looks at you with love in his eyes.

"$!{he} grows more every day," he says softly now, placing a hand on your chubby cheek. The woman watches the man, her expression soft, her cold as stone.

"I was concerned before, about whether or not any of this would work...whether it was worth it." The woman admits, her hair catching wisps of the fading sunlight. "But $!{he} won't even need me. The child...was born good." her voice turns into a soft whisper and she takes a hold of your small hand. "But whether ${he} will [i]stay[/i] good..."

The man glances at you, bringing a hand toward yours, which is currently positioned in front of your perplexed face. You note the strange shape on the inside of your right palm. You believe it's called a [i]circle[/i].

You...
*fake_choice
    #reach out and grab his hand.
        *set grab true
        The man's large palm engulfs your small hand, and he smiles brilliantly.

        "Iroas is more amiable than you, it seems." he teases, glancing at the woman.

        "I simply haven't had time to teach ${him} how to bite," the woman scoffs. "Give ${name} time. Soon, you'll walk out of here with the most curious looking bite marks."
        *goto ugh
    #bite his hand as soon as it's within reach.
        *set bite true
        As the man's large palm gets closet to your hand, you duck down, your small head bobbing, and press your tiny teeth into his flesh. The man winces, but allows you to nibble on him.

        "Truly a child raised by the likes of you," he teases, glancing at the woman. "Vicious, even in diapers."

        "Or maybe ${name} senses that something is amiss?" the woman teases. "Children and dogs can sense evil within people, you know."

        "Then you must have little bite marks all over, by that logic."
        *goto ugh
    #do nothing, eyeing him with disinterest.
        *set stare true
        As the man's large palm travels closer to your hand, you turn your interest onto the pattern on the bedsheets. The man drops his hand, placing it over your heartbeat instead.

        "A child with the heartbeat of a wise elder," he teases, glancing at the woman. "Remind you of anyone?"

        "No one I can think of, I assure you." the woman teases. "But several heroes come to mind...all who died far too soon."
        *goto ugh
*label ugh

The man places his hand on the woman's cheek, and a warm sense of love fills the room. You are lulled into sleep by their soft voices.
*page_break You are six.
Aunt Alice, had spent the night prior quizzing you on things that no ordinary six year old should know; like the atomic mass of every element on the periodic table of elements, for example.

When the first rays of sun break over the horizon, you stand outside your house with your Aunt, your small feet leaning over the curb. Aunt Alice grips your hand tightly. You look up at her fondly, smiling.

"Where are they?" she asks, her voice irritated. "When they take such effort to print 8:00 AM—in [i]italics[/i], none the less—am I wrong to assume they'll keep their word? How unprofessional."

You turn away from her, and toward the street. A bright, yellow school bus is fast approaching. Your Aunt begins to adjust the strap of your backpack and throwing last minute advice at you.

"Make sure you play nice...or something resembling that."
*line_break
"Finish [i]all[/i] of your lunch; even the broccoli and the green beans. No arguments."
*line_break
"Ask questions—always ask questions. Knowledge is power. You know that, my love."

It is only when the bus driver clears his throat that Aunt Alice bids you farewell. Although she tries to hide the tears welling up in her eyes, you still manage to feel one land on your own cheek, leaving a warm trail in its wake.
*page_break
You sit at a table with six of your other classmates, coloring in a baby giraffe.

A girl with dark skin and beautiful, long braids sits across from you, coloring within the lines. She had told you her name was Amy, and offered your her favorite marker; periwinkle. A pale boy with inky black hair sits to your left, and stops every few moments to pull on the hair of the girl beside him, whose name you know to be Lucy.

After the third painful yank, the girl lets out a heartbreaking scream. Tears pool in her green eyes, spilling down her ruddy cheeks. "Stop it! Stop it!" she screams. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The teacher, Miss Soares, stops before your table, an eyebrow raised in question.

The boy simply smiles at Lucy, shrugging. [i]"I never even touched her."[/i]
*fake_choice
    #I know I have to teach him a lesson.
        *set Genuine -10
        *set Immoral +4
        *set Wit +3
        *set Allure +2
        It's only when Miss Soares's back is turned that you began to mess with the boy; you pull his chair back when he stands to reach for another crayon, and when he motions to sit, he falls onto the floor. When he turns his head, you pull on his hair, just as he had pulled on Lucy's hair. When he dares to reach for the Lucy's ponytail, you swiftly smack his hand away.

        It's after the third painful smack that he stands up. "Stop it!" he exclaims. "Why are you doing this to me?"

        Miss Soares makes her way to your table, hands braced on her hips. "What is it now?"

        The boy points an accusatory finger at you. "${name} keeps messing with me; ${he} won't leave me alone!"

        You smile sweetly. "I've been drawing this entire time, Miss Soares," you turn to look Josh in the eyes. [i]"I never even touched him."[/i]

        Miss Soares smiles, fooled by your sweet face and plea of innocence. Josh stares at you, mouth agape, while Lucy smiles, her eyes shining with gratitude. From across the table, someone watches you...Amy. Her big, gray eyes glare at you, a knowing glint in her gaze. [i]Her eyes are so familiar,[/i] you think.

        You smile at her, and after a brief moment, she smiles back.
        *page_break You are ten.
    #I know I have to tell the teacher. It's the only way.
        *set Genuine +10
        *set Moral +4
        *set Wit +4
        You wait until the boy is too distracted pulling Lucy's pigtail to slip away.

        You find Miss Soares helping a girl who spilled her juice clean up the mess. You wait until she's done before you explain your story to her. Miss Soares listens with a sympathetic ear, nodding along.

        "How do I know for sure Josh is doing such things, ${name}?" she asked.

        You smile, pointing to your table. Even from across the room, anyone could see Josh's tiny hand slowly creeping closer to Lucy's pigtail, ready to pull on it.

        Miss Soares narrows her eyes, then makes her way over to the table. From you spot across the room, you can see her scolding Josh, who shrinks under her scrutiny. Lucy watches on, a smile on her face.

        From across the room, you feel someone watching you; Amy. Her big, gray eyes stare at you, a knowing glint in them. [i]Her eyes are so familiar,[/i] you think.

        She smiles, and after a moment, you smile back.
        *page_break You are ten.
    #It's survival of the fittest; I join in.
        *set Immoral +5
        *set Strength +7
        You catch Lucy's gaze as the boy pulls on her ponytail, her eyes pleading for you to interfere.

        [i]Pathethic![/i] you think. [i]She needs to learn to stick up for herself, or this will only get worse.[/i]

        With that justification fresh in your mind, you get up and shove Lucy's shoulder. She looks up at you in shock and hurt, and you smile, reaching for her other pigtail. With devilish grins on both your faces, you and the boy pull on Lucy's pigtails in sync, causing her to let out a shrill shriek.

        Just then, you feel someone watching you. You look up just in time to see Amy's big, gray eyes staring back at you. [i]Her gaze is so familiar,[/i] you think to yourself.

        Amy shakes her head, and something akin to disappointment takes over her features.

        You look away.
        *page_break You are ten.
    #It's none of my business.
        You sigh, then continued coloring in your masterpiece. Every few minutes, you hear Lucy's groan, and the boy's laughter, an orchestra of a continuous cycle.

        Then, you feel someone watching you. You look up just in time to see Amy's big, gray eyes staring back at you. [i]Her gaze is so familiar,[/i] you think to yourself.

        Amy shakes her head, and something akin to disappointment takes over her soft features.

        You look away.
        *page_break You are ten.
It is spring, and you are in your Uncle Henry's car, on your way home from Grant Elementary. A soft voice sings out a tune in a language you don't understand. Of course, knowing Uncle Henry, it's most likely an old Greek opera. You stare down at your hands, unconsiously tracing the circular birthmark on your palm.

"Iroas," Uncle Henry says, his voice soft. You never asked what the nickname meant; you just loved that it was reserved for you and no one else. "I have some news to share with you."

"I won't be around for a while. It will only be for a few months, at the most. But I wanted you to know ahead of time." he continues.

You narrow your eyes. "Where are you going?"

"There's somewhere I need to be, $!{name}. Some people need me." Uncle Henry says this with such cold, detatched finality, you wonder what's truly going on.

Panicked and unsettled by this news, you...
*fake_choice
    #Protest as loudly as I can. He won't be leaving without knowing how upset I am.
        "What do you mean 'some people need you'? [i]I[/i] need you," you nearly scream. You twist on the leather seat and out of your seat belt's grasp, struggling to catch his gaze. Your small hand latches onto his shoulder.

        Uncle Henry glances at you. "Careful, ${name}," he says, his voice strained. "Please, put your seat belt back on, and—"

        "Why do you have to go now?" you ask, louder than before. "And who are these 'people'?"

        "Alice will explain," he says. "Please, sit back down."

        "I won't!" you had declare. "How can you just leave? This makes no sense!"

        Uncle Henry tightens his hold on the steering wheel. You feel his shoulders tense under your grip as he turns way from you, the emotion in his black eyes undefinable.
        *goto aftercarride
    #Attempt to guilt him into staying. I can't let this happen.
        *set Deceitful +2
        *set Immoral +2
        "So there people are more important than me? [i]I[/i] need you, Uncle Henry, not them," you say, trying to inflict pain into your voice. You twist on the leather seat and out of your seat belt's grasp. Your small hand grips his. "You can't leave. You can't."

        "Careful, ${name}," Uncle Henry said, his voice strained. "Please, put your seat belt back on, and—"

        "Why do you have to go now?" you interrupt, keeping your voice soft.

        Uncle Henry glances at you, conflict in his eyes. "I...I can't—"

        "Tell me!" you declare. "How can you just leave? This makes no sense!"

        Uncle Henry tightens his hold on the steering wheel. You see his shoulders tense as he turns way from you, the emotion in his black eyes undefinable.
        *goto aftercarride
    #Try to stay calm. I can't let my emotions get the best of me.
        You stare straight ahead for a long stretch of time, gathering your scattered thoughts.

        "I'm trying to understand, Uncle Henry," you say calmly. You twist on the leather seat and out of your seat belt's grasp. "But I don't."

        "Careful, ${name}," Uncle Henry said, his voice strained. "Please, put your seat belt back on, and—"

        "What's going on?" you interrupted. "[i]Why[/i] do you have to leave?"

        Uncle Henry glances at you, conflict in his eyes. "${name}..."

        "Just tell me," you declare. "How can you just leave? This makes no sense!"

        Uncle Henry tightens his hold on the steering wheel. You see his shoulders tense as he turns way from you, the emotion in his black eyes undefinable.
        *goto aftercarride
    #Stare straight ahead, unflinchingly numb.
        You will not give him the satisfaction of begging. Your gaze becomes a far off matter, focusing on the passing houses that become larger and larger as you approach your street.

        All the while, a question echoes in your mind. [i]How could he? How could he?[/i]

        Uncle Henry casts furitive glances in your direction, obviously unprepared for your cold reaction. "Iroas..." he begins.

        You turn your head away from him, towarsd the passenger side window, appreciating the soft hum of heavy r's and exaggerated l's sung in a language you don't understand, but somehow comforts you.

        After some time, when you finally turn to glance at Uncle Henry, you watch him tighten his hold on the steering wheel. You see his shoulders tense as he glances at you, the emotion in his black eyes undefinable.
        *goto aftercarride
*label aftercarride
*page_break You don't speak for the rest of the car ride.
When you finally get home, you make no move to exit the car. You can see your Aunt's perpetually cold gray eyes staring at you through the large living room windows.

"It will only be for a short time," Uncle Henry promises again, but you hear the doubt in his voice. "I'd never leave you, $!{name}."

Years pass by, and you realize that you will never see him again.
*page_break "Watch it!" a voice shouts, breaking you out of your thoughts.
You expertly side step, just barely avoiding an altercation with a man pushing a baby stroller. You sigh as he passes, trying to regain your composure.

[i]Uncle Henry...[/i] your thoughts echo. [i]What happened to you?[/i]

Of course, you asked Aunt Alice a million and one times before; did he meet someone? Did he already have a family of his own? Did they have a fight? Was it something you did? Was he dying?

Aunt Alice had never given you a solid answer. She would always sigh in her dramatic way, staring at you with tired eyes, and say; "People aren't meant to stay in our lives forever."
*page_break
As you turn onto a particularly crowded street, you spot a small, rusted statue of Zeus surrounded by old candles. An elderly woman kneels before the statue, face in her hands.

Over the years, you must admit that your feelings about the mysterious gods has developed into something more feasable.
*fake_choice
  #I have to admit, despite everything, a small part of me longs to be a part of their world.
       Even if the gods have been absent all your life, you feel your heart skip a beat when you think of the possibility of them knowing where you are. Your thoughts fill with visions of the gods in their gleaming chariots, their gold trimmed battle armor, their lavish ceremonies, and their envious immortality.

       Who wouldn't want to be a part of a world like that?
       *set lovegods true
       *set hategods false
       *set maybegods false          
  #I have no strong opinions about them; I just want to live my life without fuss. 
       The gods are the gods, and nothing you do can change that. But you should have a say in what they involve you in and what they leave you out of; and frankly, you don't want anything to do with that way of life.
       
       You've had more than enough.
       *set lovegods false
       *set hategods false
       *set maybegods true  
  #I completely despise the gods, no doubt about it. I refuse to be a part of any of this.
       The gods are the gods, and they have no doubt gone mad with power after millions of years. If they  [i]do[/i] show a sudden interest in you, then it'd probably be another sick pastime of theirs, a way to rub salt in the wound.
       
       You've had more than enough of being another pawn in their everlasting chess game.
       *set lovegods false
       *set hategods true
       *set maybegods false

Your thoughts shift back onto the task at hand for today; your VisiCharm is dimming, and you need to strengthen it once more.  

You cross the jam-packed street and walk down the sidewalk, seeing a bookstore just a block in front of you. The outside resembles a typical bookstore, with displays of their current stock. You know what really lies behind the false exterior; a [i]Magikeep[/i].

The glamor of the bookstore melts away as you walk through the barrier. A faint blue light blinds you for a moment, then vanishes, and you step through the large mahogany door. 
*page_break
The store is much, much larger on the inside than it looks from the outside, due to the glamor that shields it from the scrutiny of the mortal gaze.

Gnomes, orcs, elves, and even the ancient 'Scrorpianas' race wander the store. A giant opening in the seemingly endless ceiling shines a beam of light down through the entire Magikeep. Book shelves that must be up to fifty feet tall flank every wall of the bustling shop, filled with what you imagine being every book on spells, shields, incantations, and charms ever made.

You pat the satchel at your side, reminding yourself that you're on a budget. You briefly wonder what the currency for the Magikeep is; it's different in every city. You try to catch a glimpse of what everyone else at the register is paying with but can only distinguish gold coins. You can only hope that for convenience sake, this store accepts Drachmas, the official currency of the gods. 

You scan the rows, your interest growing with each new discovery. Potions for health, charms for speed...and ah, the components for your shield charm. The components are shredded Ox horn, greens from the Neverlands, and dark fairy dust. You pick up your items and make your way to the register. 

But, then you pause and muse the idea of buying more magical items...
*fake_choice
   #Another item or two wouldn't hurt. And besides, you can never have too much protection, especially in my case.
      *goto shadow1
   #As much as I'd love to, I don't have time. I can come back tomorrow before I leave and pick something up. 
      *goto shadow

*label shadow1
You turn back around and face the rows of magical items once again, unable to keep the grin off your face. You scan the selection, narrowing down your possibilities to two items...
*fake_choice
 #Mirror of the Red Sea. The beautifully embellished mirror is said to have the power to turn the person who gazes upon the glass invisible for a short period of time. The only indication of their presence would lie in the sounds they make. 
     You smile to yourself and pick up the compact mirror. This will be useful one day, no doubt about it.
     *set mirror true
     *set justwork true 
     *set Drachmas -20
     *set empty_inventory false
     *set Essence +5
     *goto shadow
 #Mist of the Truth Springs. The Truth Springs, located just outside Athens, are surrounded by a mass of thick, white mist. The mist has been collected and compressed into the tiny glass bottle and sealed away with a wooden cork. When the cork is pulled out, the mist from the Truth Springs is released and creates a veil of white fog, concealing everything within fifty feet.
     You smile to yourself and grab the glass bottle. This will be useful one day, no doubt about it.
     *set mist true
     *set justwork true
     *set Drachmas -20
     *set empty_inventory false
     *set Essence +5
     *goto shadow
 #On second thought, I change my mind.
     *goto shadow    
      
*label shadow
As you walk through the vast space, you marvel at how just a few years ago, places like this were unknown to you.

Though you've always known you were a demigod, it wasn't until later in life that your powers revealed themselves for the first time.
*page_break You are thirteen.
Almost immediately after Uncle Henry's disappearance from your life, you and Aunt Alice moved. Aunt Alice had gotten a promotion of sorts, and you relocated to Phoenix, Arizona within the month.  

Soon, you were admitted into Preston Preparatory Academy. The school was founded in the late 1800's, had a prestigious and diverse list of alumni, and held the highest standard of education for grades six through twelve in all of Arizona.

The weeks pass, and you come to terms with the fact that the school is, of course, challenging at first. The curriculum is far more advanced than your last school, and the children are even more fiercely intelligent. You're also required to join at least one sport and play at least one instrument.

Deciding to wait until you're more well adjusted before joining a sport, you turn your attention to music.

Your Aunt insists that you play the...
*choice
  #piano. The instrument was a classic, and easier to learn than the other alternatives, but it had an air of superiority to it.
     *set piano true
     You sit for hours, four times a week, at the piano bench with your instructor, a regal Russian woman named Ivona. She herself is a brilliant player, but it quickly became apparent you didn't need an instructor; you were a naturally gifted child. After a few months, your "lessons" had turned into playing original scores for Ivona while she sipped on herbal tea.

     Even you have to admit that when you place your fingers over those keys, it seems like even the wind stops to listen.
     *set Wit +5
     *goto sports
  #violin. The beautifully complex instrument was like the sound of spring when you played.
     *set violin true
     You practice for hours, four times a week in front of your sheet of notes. Your instructor is a wild child of a woman named Lilly. She's constantly praising your playing, and after a few months, [i]you[/i] are the one teaching [i]her[/i] a few things. You often spend your free time coming up with new combinations and composing original pieces worthy of world class praise.

     Even you have to admit that when you close your eyes and drag the bow across the stern strings, it seems like every living thing in the world stops to listen to your angelic music.
     *set Allure +5
     *goto sports
  #guitar. The rhythmic tremble of the strings under your fingers sent people into a frenzy.
     *set guitar true
     You strum for hours, four times a week, writing down sequences that you found most appealing, and adding lyrics to your masterpieces. Your teacher is a twenty-something year old man named Leo, and he seemed resolute in letting you play private concerts for him, endless streams of praise falling from his lips after every performance.

     Even you have to admit that when you close your eyes and strum certain cords, it seems like every living thing in the world stops to listen to your otherworldly music.
     *set Allure +5
     *set Wit +2
     *goto sports
*label sports
*line_break
*line_break
You bid your time until you can no longer ignore the countless flyers set up around the school. There are members of teams trying to recruit as many people as possible every second of the day, and countless rallies coming up in celebration for different sports. The entire population of Preston seems to be obsessed with athletics, through and through.

Finally, after weeks of debate, you decide to join...
*fake_choice
  #track and field.
    *set Strength +5
    *set track true
    *set cheerleading false
    *set basketball false
    *set swimming false
    *goto childhoodmagic
  #the swimming team.
    *set Strength +5
    *set swimming true
    *set track false
    *set cheerleading false
    *set basketball false
    *goto childhoodmagic
  #the cheerleading squad.
    *set Strength +5
    *set Allure +5
    *set cheerleading true
    *set track false
    *set basketball false
    *set swimming false
    *goto childhoodmagic
  #the basketball team.
    *set Strength +5
    *set Wit +4
    *set basketball true
    *set track false
    *set cheerleading false
    *set swimming false
    *goto childhoodmagic
*label childhoodmagic
Your first day
*if track = true
    of track and field
    *goto childhoodchoice1
*if swimming = true
    at swim team practice
    *goto childhoodchoice1
*if cheerleading = true
    at cheer practice
    *goto childhoodchoice1
*if basketball = true
    at basketball practice
    *goto childhoodchoice1
*label childhoodchoice1
is both exciting and terrifying. Most of the people who had made it past tryouts were, at least, two years older than you. You had made varsity, without much surprise from your Aunt Alice.

"If you spend more than a second thinking about it," she had mused one day over lunch. "It's very much akin to cheating. Except instead of steroids, it's the power of the gods flowing through your blood."

Still, you make the team, much to the dismay of your older classmates and to the utter glee of Coach Malischov. You stretch as they glare at you, whispering behind your back. Some are discreet about it, waiting until you were out of hearing range to express their annoyance. But others, like a tall, pale blonde
*if gender2 = "female"
    girl named Gale, are braver. She stares you straight in the eyes as she speakes.
*if gender2 = "male"
    boy named Gale, are braver. He stares you straight in the eyes as he speakes.

"Kid's barely up to my damn hip," ${he2} says. "What the hell are they doing here?"

You grit your teeth and ignore ${him}, remembering your Aunt's warnings about staying calm under adversity.
*if gender2 = "female"
    "Oh, and now she's going to act like we're not even here," ${bullyname} continues. "Who does she think she is?"
*if (gender2 = "male") and (gender = "they")
    "Oh, and now they're going to act like we're not even here," ${bullyname} continues. "Who do they think they are?"
*if (gender2 = "male") and (gender = "male")
    "Oh, and now he's going to act like we're not even here," ${bullyname} continues. "Who does he think he is?"

All throughout practice, you begin to feel tendrils of anger snake their way into you. It isn't enough for ${bullyname} to send little digs at you every moment ${he2} can, but ${he}'s started physically harming you. After another hour, you have a few more bruises to add to your collection. You've contemplated telling Coach Malischov, but you know it'd only make things worse.
*goto galechoice
*label galechoice
*fake_choice
    #I have to fight fire with fire; one of us needs to burn.
        You steel yourself and march up to ${bullyname}. $!{he2}'s drinking a bottle of Gatorade and lounging on the floor. $!{his2} cluster of friends, equally large and brute-like, sit on either side of ${him2}, chatting it up. When your shadow falls over ${him2}, ${he2} looks up.

        "What do you want?" ${he2} barks out, spitting some Gatorade onto the floor.

        "I want you to back off," you say, trying to make your voice as steady and confident as possible.

        $!{bullyname} lets out a quick laugh before turning ${his2} attention away from you. As if you weren't there. As if you were nothing.

        Something surges inside you. It's subtle at first, and could have been mistaken for anger. But soon you could see that it is more than that. Your vision blurs, and everything begins to fade into the background, out of sight and out of range. There is a soft buzzing in your ears, canceling out ${bullyname}'s laughter.

        Before you can stop yourself, you're lifting ${bullyname} off the ground. Strength flows through you, a physical force than sets your muscles on fire. $!{his2} eyes bulge out of their sockets, face contorting into pure shock. You lift ${him2} even higher, above your own head. $!{his} feet dangle, swaying under ${him2}.

        Then, you throw ${him2}.

        ${Bullyname} slams against some spare mats with a softly muffled [i]thud[/i]. The room is silent, but anger still flows through you, along with the sudden surge of strength. You walk over to ${bullyname}, your feet patting against the floor. $!{he2} looks up at you, weakly, bringing a finger to the fresh gash on ${his2} forehead. Blood coats ${his2} fingers when ${he2} pulls them away.

        "H...how did you—" ${he2} begins weakly.

        Something pulses in the air, different from the first surge of power; an ancient feeling of pure energy enters your body. A faint white light starts to glow behind your eyelids. By instinct or by command, you hold out your hand. The air goes warm, then hot, then boiling.

        $!{bullyname}'s face goes blank. $!{his2} eyes close, and ${his2} head slumps onto ${his2} shoulder.

        You run.
        *set Combat +5
        *set Moral -5
        *page_break
        *goto childhooddecide
    #Ignore ${him2}. $!{he2}'s only doing this to get a rise out of me.
        You calm your angry pulse and ease your racing mind. You're better than this, better than [i]${him2}[/i]. You don't need to stoop down to ${his2} level.

        Practice went off without much disturbance after that self-reassurance. Sure you received more bruises and a few more blows to your pride, but you had managed to make it out alive, with (what was left of your dignity) in check.

        Until later, that is.

        Aunt Alice is late. You stand outside the school, and the sun has already begun to set, painting the sky a dark, violent red. You are just about to take your chances walking home when voices sound off in the distance.

        $!{bullyname} and two of ${his2} older friends come toward you.

        "Little prodigy?" ${he2} said, voice thick with false concern. "What're you still doing here?"

        You don't say anything, instead opting to keep your gaze on the bustling road before you.

        "Still think you're too good to talk to me, hm?" $!{bullyname} muses. You feel ${his2} tight grip on your arm.

        "Well?" ${he2} barked at you, ${his2} face too close to yours for comfort.
     
        Something snaps inside of you. It's subtle at first, and could have been mistaken for anger. But soon you could see that it is more than that. Your vision blurs, and everything begins to fade into the background, out of sight and out of range. There is a soft buzzing that begins in your ears, but spreads across your entire body, canceling out ${bullyname}'s tight grip.
        *page_break Before you can stop yourself, you twist out of ${bullyname}'s grip and push ${him2} as hard as you can.
$!{he2} slams against one of the pillars of the school entrance, and something let out a sick crack when ${his2} head collided against the hard stone. But anger still flows through you, along with the violent surge of strength. ${bullyname}'s friends stare at you, wide-eyed and mouths agape, then scurry off out of sight, fading into the twilight.

You walk over to ${bullyname} with slow, measured steps. $!{he2} looks up at you, ${his2} eyes hazy. $!{he2} slowly reaches behind his head, feeling the back of it, and brings his bloody hand in front of his face, eyes widening at the sight.

"H...how did you—" $!{he2} begins weakly, ${his2} voice but a whisper.

Something pulses in the air, different from the first surge of power; an ancient feeling of pure energy enteres your body. A faint white light starts to glow behind your eyelids. By instinct or by command, you hold out your hand. The air goes warm, then hot, then boiling.

$!{bullyname}'s face goes blank. $!{his2} eyes close, and ${his2} head slumps onto ${his2} shoulder.

You run.
*set Combat +5
*set Moral +5
*page_break
*goto childhooddecide
*label childhooddecide
"It's the power of the gods..." Aunt Alice whispers to you, running a hand through your hair. You sit next to her, leaning into her warmth. Your hands are intertwined, and she stares intensely at you. "It's starting to awaken, my love."

"Was that what it was? Powers from my father?"

She ignores your question. "The strength is why demigods are so dangerous. But the magic..." Aunt Alice seems to be struggling to admit something, like there's a war within her own mind on whether or not to divulge anymore information to you. "...is another thing entirely."

She smoothes down your hair, sighing. "But you [i]have[/i] to control it. This can't happen again, lest it draw more unwanted attention to you."

Aunt Alice stares at you for a moment longer, then gazes out the window. Night has come, and with it, a promise of an endless sky littered with bright stars.
*page_break "We'll learn how to control it," she says simply, a small smile playing on her lips. "Together."
You lie in bed that night, the events of the earlier evening playing out in your mind.

Your anger. The surge of strength flowing through you. ${bullyname}'s terrified face. The sound of ${his2} body slamming against the floor. The ancient feeling of power. The white light behind your eyes.

[i]The blood.[/i]

You take a deep breath, your chest aching from the effort. You feel a deep sense of...
*fake_choice
    #aching guilt build up in my chest.
        *set moral +15
        You had hurt someone who had hurt you...but the damage you did to ${bullyname} was double, tripple, the damage done to you. Your Aunt had always warned you of the inbalance of power within the world. Those who have powers have three contrasting choices; abuse that power, use that power for something greater than themselves, or let that power lie dormat, unable to do any good nor harm.

        Today, you had done harm to a mortal, and you feel the ramifications of your behavior heavy on your soul. But your sympathy does not come from a place of understanding...it comes from a place of higher power.

        Your guilt subsides into a dull ache, squeezing your heart in the process. It is only when the ache deminishes that you begin to feel the familiar return of ancient power flow through you.

        You raise your hand, and marvel at the sight; swirling tendrils of glinting matter weave in between your fingers, light as smoke but vital as a blazing fire.

        Just then, your Aunt's voice materializes into your mind. [i]"Magic needs a foundation to become stronger; a source to pull its power from. It is the begining and end of all things."[/i]

        You close your eyes.
        *goto magictype
    #triumphant satisfaction build up in my chest.
        Yes, you had hurt ${bullyname}, but only in retalliation to what ${he2} had done to you. You had been able to defend yourself, using your own abilities to do so. Never before had you felt the pull of power surge through you. Aunt Alice had once said that those who have powers acquire them in two ways; whether by their own volition or by the hand of fate itself. You hate to admit it, but you had long since resigned that you'd [i]never[/i] develope abilities.

        Today, you had done harm to a mortal, but you don't feel the ramifications of your behavior heavy on your soul. Your contentment, you realize, comes from a place of higher power.

        Your satisfaction subsides into shaking excitement, beating against your heart in the process. It is only when the shaking deminishes that you begin to feel the familiar return of ancient power flow through you.

        You raise your hand, and marvel at the sight; swirling tendrils of glinting matter weave in between your fingers, light as smoke but vital as a blazing fire.

        Just then, your Aunt's voice materializes into your mind. [i]"Magic needs a foundation to become stronger; a source to pull its power from. It is the begining and end of all things."

        You close your eyes.
        *goto magictype
    #acute confusion build up in my chest.
        Questions bounce around in your mind; was what you did self defense or an abuse of power? Did you mean to inflict such pain on ${bullyname} on purpose, or did the godly part of you take over? Can you even trust your powers, if you're can't even control them? How can you even be sure that your powers aren't controlling you?

        Your Aunt had always warned you of the inbalance of power within the world. Those who have powers have three contrasting choices; abuse that power, use that power for something greater than themselves, or let that power lie dormat, unable to do any good nor harm.

        Today, you had done harm to a mortal, but you don't understand the ramifications of your behavior, nor do you feel them heavy on your soul. While you are ill-at-ease over the events of the day, you realize that that feeling comes from a place of higher power.

        Your confusion subsides into a dull ache, spinning against your heart in the process. It is only when the ache deminishes that you begin to feel the familiar return of ancient power flow through you.

        You raise your hand, and marvel at the sight; swirling tendrils of glinting matter weave in between your fingers, light as smoke but vital as a blazing fire.

        Just then, your Aunt's voice materializes into your mind. [i]"Magic needs a foundation to become stronger; a source to pull its power from. It is the begining and end of all things."

        You close your eyes.
        *goto magictype
    #indomitable excitement build up in my chest.
        The events of the afternoon play over and over again in your mind in vivid detail; first, the strength that started as a whisper and turned into a roar of courage, then the ease in which you lifted ${bullyname}. The feeling of power when it first entered your body, seemingly bursting through your chest, followed by the pain you felt at the base of your head.

        Aunt Alice had once said that those who have powers acquire them in two ways; whether by their own volition or by the hand of fate itself. You hate to admit it, but you had long since resigned that you'd [i]never[/i] develope powers.

        You'd like to believe that this was fate. An amazing, extraordinary fate.

        Today, you had done harm to a mortal, but you don't feel the ramifications of your behavior, nor do you feel them heavy on your soul. Instead, you feel giddy, almost childish excitment that seems to have no end. You realize that that feeling comes from a place of higher power.

        Your excitment subsides into a buzzing pulse, tapping against your heart in the process. It is only when the buzz deminishes that you begin to feel the familiar return of ancient power flow through you.

        You raise your hand, and marvel at the sight; swirling tendrils of glinting matter weave in between your fingers, light as smoke but vital as a blazing fire.

        Just then, your Aunt's voice materializes into your mind. [i]"Magic needs a foundation to become stronger; a source to pull its power from. It is the begining and end of all things."

        You close your eyes.
        *goto magictype
    #intense anger build up in my chest.
        You hadn't been able to control yourself when you attacked ${bullyname}. It had been like you were outside your own body, watching everything happen at a safe distance. How could you have let that happen? [i]How[/i] did it happen? What explanation would justify what you did? Your cheeks begin to heat up at the thought of your "powers," whatever they are, controlling you like that again. Can you even trust it?

        Your Aunt had always warned you of the inbalance of power within the world. Those who have powers have three contrasting choices; abuse that power, use that power for something greater than themselves, or let that power lie dormat, unable to do any good nor harm.

        You and ${bullyname} had both been abused by your powers.

        Today, you had done harm to a mortal, and you understand the ramifications of your behavior, and what your anger represents. But no sooner do you acknowledge this do you realize that your feelings come from a place of higher power.

        Your anger subsides into a sharp ache, stabbing into your heart in the process. It is only when the ache deminishes that you begin to feel the familiar return of ancient power flow through you, much to your dismay.

        You raise your hand, and marvel at the sight; swirling tendrils of glinting matter weave in between your fingers, light as smoke but vital as a blazing fire.

        Just then, your Aunt's voice materializes into your mind. [i]"Magic needs a foundation to become stronger; a source to pull its power from. It is the begining and end of all things."

        You close your eyes; you [i]have[/i] to control this.
        *goto magictype
    #dazed numbness build up in my chest.
        You attempt to stir up a recollection of the events once more, wondering if you'll feel any emotions. You see ${bullyname}'s terrified expression, but feel nothing. You see yourself filled with strength, lifting ${he2} up, but feel nothing. You see the petrified expressions of the crowd, but feel nothing.

        Your Aunt had always told you of people going to the ends of the earth in order to secure power. Whether that power lied in title, position, blood or magic, man had always been deperate to claim it. She had warned you of that fever, that desperation.

        You don't feel that temptation. In fact, you feel nothing at all.

        Today, you had done harm to a mortal, but you don't understand the ramifications of your behavior, and what your numbness represents. But no sooner do you acknowledge this do you realize that your feelings come from a place of higher power.

        Your numbness subsides into a dull pull, latching itself onto your heart in the process. It is only when the pull deminishes that you begin to feel the familiar return of ancient power flow through you, much to your dismay.

        You raise your hand, and marvel at the sight; swirling tendrils of glinting matter weave in between your fingers, light as smoke but vital as a blazing fire.

        Just then, your Aunt's voice materializes into your mind. [i]"Magic needs a foundation to become stronger; a source to pull its power from. It is the begining and end of all things."

        You close your eyes.
        *goto magictype
*label magictype
*fake_choice
    #I focus on every ounce of [i]love[/i] that fills my heart. This is what my power must thrive off. (Magic type: Light magic)
        *set moral +5
        *set magictype "light"
        *set magicolor "white"
        *set lightmagic true
        Your magic needs to have a strong foundation, and what better foundation than love? You have so much of it in your heart...why not use it to fuel your magic?

        You fill your mind with thoughts of love; people, places, events, things. Every atom in your body begins to be overtaken with warmth, the sensation nearly overwhelming.

        The light begins to illuminate from behind your eyes. It grows in intensity, taking over your senses. You feel a sharp pain in the back of your head, almost unbearable to comprehend...and then, nothing.

        You open your eyes, and see that the glinting, nearly transparent magic has turned in a radiant, brilliant white. You smile to yourself, allowing the white tendrils to flow through your fingers, loop around your arm, and reach upward to your ceiling.
        *page_break You fall asleep, the ${magicolor} tendrils lingering in the air.
        *goto training
    #I focus on every ounce of [i]wanting[/i] that fills my heart. This is what I want my power to thrive off. (Magic type: Shadow magic)
        *set moral +5
        *set magictype "shadow"
        *set shadowmagic true
        *set magicolor "silver"
        Your magic needs to have a strong foundation, and what better foundation than the power of wanting? Hope is the guiding force of the world, always held within reach, pushing people forward toward their dreams and deepest desires...however morally questionable those are.

        You fill your mind with thoughts of hope; people, places, events, things. Every atom in your body begins to be overtaken with buzzing electricity, the sensation nearly overwhelming.

        The light begins to illuminate from behind your eyes. It grows in intensity, taking over your senses. You feel a sharp pain in the back of your head, almost unbearable to comprehend...and then, nothing.

        You open your eyes, and see that the glinting, nearly transparent magic has turned into a dazzling, whispy silver. You smile to yourself, allowing the silver tendrils to flow through your fingers, loop around your arm, and reach upward to your ceiling.
        *page_break You fall asleep, the ${magicolor} tendrils lingering in the air.
        *goto training
    #I focus on every ounce of [i]hate[/i] that fills my heart. This is what my power must thrive off. (Magic type: Dark magic)
        *set immoral +5
        *set magictype "dark"
        *set darkmagic true
        *set magicolor "black"
        Your magic needs to have a strong foundation, and what better foundation than hate? You've seen the bad in people, and all things. You've seen the state the world is in, the seemingly endless cycle of death and ruthless loss.

        You fill your mind with thoughts of hate; people, places, things. Every atom in your body begins to be overtaken with chilling coldness, the sensation nearly overwhelming.

        The light begins to illuminate from behind your eyes. It grows in intensity, taking over your senses. You feel a sharp pain in the back of your head, almost unbearable to comprehend...and then, nothing.

        You open your eyes, and see that the glinting, nearly transparent magic has turned into a smoky, inky black. You smile to yourself, allowing the black tendrils to flow through your fingers, loop around your arm, and reach upward to your ceiling.
        *page_break You fall asleep, the ${magicolor} tendrils lingering in the air.
        *goto training
*label training
Months pass.

As Autumn begins to rear its head, turning the leaves into the most vibrant shades of rich orange and rustic red, things begin to change, taking cue from the weather. Sports are put on hold while other's resume, friendships end and begin, classes become even more difficult.

But you yourself are changing, too. Lately, you've been...
*choice
   #constantly training. I know my physical health needs to be on par with my mental health.
     You train every weekend when you have time, and work yourself until you feel like collapsing, which is still a while longer than the average person. Each day you push yourself, testing the limits of your strength and indurance.

     At first, it is so exhuasting, you wonder if you've gained any true strength from your godly father at all.

     Aunt Alice, though, makes it her priority to train you. You see a whole new side to her during these lessons; someone who knows more than they should.

     It was during a particulary exhausting training session that this side of her came to fruition.
     *set Strength +5
     *set Combat +20
     *set skill "You are a novice warrior"
     *set Warrior "1"
     *page_break
     *goto auntytraining
   #constantly studying magic. I was born with something that so few people around me have, and I'm going to monopolize on the opportunity to become more powerful.
     You read the spell books your Aunt kept locked up in her room. You memorize them day and night, whenever you have freetime. Stories of great sorcerers and necromancers and wizards become your bedtime tales. You explore the realms of magic, what contains it, what makes it flourish, and what deminishes it.

     At first, the constant headaches and complexity of the spells seem too much for you...

     Aunt Alice, though, makes it her priority to train you. You see a whole new side to her during these lessons; someone who knows more than they should.

     It was during a particulary exhausting training session that this side of her came to fruition.
     *set Essence +20
     *set Wit +5
     *set skill "You are a novice magician"
     *set Magician "1"
     *page_break
     *goto auntytraining
*label auntytraining
*if Magician = "1"
    You sit on a stool, staring at a glowing, swirling orb of amethyst. It sits under the fading twilight, twinkling back at you. You reach out with one hand...

    "I hope you aren't doing what I [i]think[/i] you're doing." Aunt Alice says, striding into the room in a blur of fluttering white robes. "I know you wouldn't deliberately do the complete opposite of what I [i]politely[/i] asked you not to."

    You groan, pulling a hand away from the orb, casting a glance at your Aunt, who has a soft smile on her face. She had dressed you in fine robes as well, though less dramatic than hers, and you can't begin to wonder how expensive it is.

    "Are you ready, my love?" she asks now, folding her hands in front of her. "It's getting late; the sun is going under the horizon."

    Today, after weeks of remedial studying of large, dusty textbooks on the techniques of magic, Aunt Alice was finally letting you use your powers. Though you had dabbled in late night recitations, never before had you--

    *page_break "${name}!" Aunt Alice calls. "Please pay attention; bending gravity itself is no small matter."

    You turn in your stool to face Aunt Alice. "Now, let's review the procedures," she announces, then clears her throat. "First, you must ensure that you have the time to summon your powers; always anticipate just how long it will take you to gather up enough magic beforehand. Second, you must always know your limits; in other words, question whether or not you have enough willpower to control the might of your power. And lastly, always summon with [i]intent[/i]. If you don't think you can do it, then you will most likely be unsuccessful."
    
    You gulp, smiling slightly. "That's all?"
    
    Aunt Alice approaches you, the vibrant light of the sunset outlining her silhouette. She places a hand on your shoulder, smiling. "We have to start training eventually. Leaving your powers dormant for too long will only increase the outbursts...after what happened with ${bullyname}, I thought you'd be more eager to control your gifts."

    She finally takes a breath, then grins, a glint of excitement in her gaze.
    *page_break "Let us begin." she declares.
*if Warrior = "1"
    You sit on a stool, staring at a sharp, long blade with a golden hilt. It sits under the fading twilight, twinkling back at you. You reach out with one hand...

    "I hope you aren't doing what I [i]think[/i] you're doing." Aunt Alice says, striding into the room in a blur of fluttering black robes. "I know you wouldn't deliberately do the complete opposite of what I [i]politely[/i] asked you not to."

    You groan, pulling a hand away from the sword, casting a glance at your Aunt, who has a curious smile on her face. She had dressed you in training attire as well. As you run the coarse material under your fingertips, you wonder just how expensive it was.

    "Are you ready, my love?" she asks now, folding her hands in front of her. "The sun is going under the horizon."

    Today, after weeks of intense training to build up your endurance, strengthen your core, and calm your mind, you were going to spar with Aunt Alice. Now that you think about it, never before had you--

    *page_break "${name}!" Aunt Alice calls. "Please pay attention; wielding a 16-inch long sword is no small matter."

    You turn in your stool to face Aunt Alice completely. "Now, let's review," she announces, then clears her throat. "First, you must ensure that you are aware of your surroundings; it doesn't matter how advanced of a fighter you are if you're surrounded by enemies. Second, you must always know your limits; in other words, question whether or not you have enough willpower to fight on. And lastly, always strike with [i]intent[/i]. If you don't think you can strike true, then you will most likely be unsuccessful."
    
    You gulp, smiling slightly. "That's all?"
    
    Aunt Alice approaches you, the vibrant light of the sunset outlining her silhouette. She places a hand on your shoulder, smiling. "We have to start training eventually. Leaving your powers dormant for too long will only increase the outbursts...after what happened with ${bullyname}, I thought you'd be more eager to control your gifts."

    She finally takes a breath, then grins, a glint of excitement in her gaze.
    *page_break "Let us begin." she declares.
    *goto wtrain
*label wtrain
You stand in a large, isolated field just outside your neighborhood. The sun's absence has created an unnerving sense of possibilities. You watch as Aunt Alice moves to stands before you. 

"I want to demonstrate something, and I think this will be the best way to do so." She catches your gaze, her gray eyes unflinching. "Attack me with everything you have. I will not fight you; don't hold anything back."

"What?" you gape. "I might as well be inside striking a battling dummy, then. I thought the point of this was to--"

"${name}," Aunt Alice calls. "Trust me."

Though still confused by the point of this exercise, you nod in agreement, pushing unanswered questions out of your mind. Aunt Alice takes a few steps away from you, the sudden bursts of wind wrapping her robes wrapping around her frame. She simply stands still, watching you in anticipation.

*fake_choice
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #I will try to use my magic to attack, recalling the procedures we went over earlier today.
        *set Essence_Tolerance -25
        Weeks ago, you had complained when Aunt Alice announced that she wouldn't be teaching you any spells. What was the point of having powers if you couldn't use it to your advantage?
        
        Aunt Alice sat on the green grass under the blazing sun, gazing up at you from under the rim of an outrageously large hat. "You're not ready, my love," she had declared tiredly. "You must first learn to access the raw, unmanipulated source of your powers...then, if I feel that you've gained adequate control, I will instruct you in basic animation spells."
        
        "And what do you consider [i]adequate control[/i]?" you had asked.
        
        She smiled sweetly. "You'll see."
        
        Now, as you steady your pulse and attempt to clear your mind, you feel the striking pain of the ancient power near the base of your skull. It spreads through your head, feeling more like you've suffered a serious concussion than anything else. The light behind your eyes is nearly blinding this time, glowing with a force you had not anticipated.
        
        Still, you strike out your hand, aimed at Aunt Alice....
        
        ...And nothing happens.
        
        [i]Oh,[/i] you think. [i]This is what she meant by "adequate control."[/i]
        *page_break Aunt Alice raises her sword, aiming for your heart.
    *selectable_if (Warrior = "1") #I ready my stance, preparing myself to strike as she approaches, recalling the procedures we went over earlier today.
        *set Stamina -25
        Weeks ago, you had stood next to a practice dummy, a wooden sword in your hand. You had been striking at the thing all morning, and it was so tattered and beaten, the stuffing was beginning to spill out. You were soaked in sweat, your breaths labored and unforgiving.
        
        "Aunt Alice," you had called. "I've been at this for hours! I'm not going to learn anything by attacking a target that can't even defend itself."
        
        Aunt Alice sat on the green grass under the blazing sun, gazing up at you from under the rim of an outrageously large hat. "You're not ready my love," she had declared tiredly. "You must first learn to bounds of your godly strength before you begin executing it...really, you should consider yourself lucky."
        
        "Why?" you had asked.
        
        She smiled sweetly. "The target will not always stay still."
        
        Now, you steady your pulse and grip the hilt of your sword. It is slick in your hand from the sweat coating your skin, but you hang onto it as if your life depends on it. You test the weight in your hands, swinging it into a clear arch to your left.
        
        Then, you run toward Aunt Alice, who is no less than ten feet away.
        
        ...And she stops moving. She stands and watches you with those clear gray eyes, as still as stone. Your eyes widen in confusion, but only for a second; in the next instant, you arch your sword, tip raised toward the sky, and aim for her heart.
        
        And at the last possible second, Aunt Alice dodges your strike.
        
        [i]Oh,[/i] you think. [i]That's what she meant by 'the target will not always stay still.'[/i]
        *page_break Aunt Alice raises her sword, aiming for your heart.

You stumble at first, but quickly gain your footing, reaffirming your stance. Your heart feels as if it's banging against the very confines of your chest, struggling to break free. Sweat already coats your hands, making the sword slip in your grip.

Aunt Alice regards you carefully. 

"Are you surprised?" she asks. When you nod, she continues. "Your body is your weapon, but it can and will betray you when it feels that you've neglected its needs. You have great power, but you need to know the extent of that power."

"Once more," Aunt Alice encourages with a nod. "Try again, ${name}."

*if Magician = "1"
    *set Essence_Tolerance -25
    You eye Aunt Alice wearily, but abide. You reach out with one hand, silencing all other thoughts in your mind. Why hadn't you been able to summon your power? It had come when you least expected it last time, so why did it abandon you when you most needed it? You try to recall what you felt when the magic first entered your body. Your mind was clear except for one single emotion. You were deadly focused on the person in front of you. You felt something building up inside of you as if it poured from your very soul...
    
    You inhale deeply, gathering your strength.
    
    And the magic pours out.
*if Warrior = "1"
    *set Stamina -25
    You eye Aunt Alice wearily but abide. You reach out with one hand, silencing all other thoughts in your mind. Why hadn't you been able to summon your power? It had come when you least expected it last time, so why did it abandon you when you most needed it? You try to recall what you felt when the strength first grasped your body. Your mind was clear except for one single emotion. You were deadly focused on the person in front of you. You felt something building up inside of you as if it poured from your very soul...
    
    You inhale deeply, gathering your strength.
    
    And you strike true.    
*page_break This time, Aunt Alice is the one who's shocked.
She reels back from your attack with a graceful leap to the side, but just barely. When she lands softly on her feet, she looks up at your through a veil of hair, a proud expression on her face.

*if Magician = "1"
    The remnants of your magic still linger in the air, ${magicolor} matter disintegrating by the second, acting as proof to what you've just accomplished.
*if Warrior = "1"
    The remnants of the strength that had flowed through you are evident in the burning sensation coursing through your muscles, acting as proof to what you've just accomplished.

"I [i]knew[/i] you would be able to summon your powers sooner rather than later!" she exclaims, cheeks flushed with excitement. "Wasn't that amazing?"

You take a deep breath, moving out of your fighting stance. In all honesty...you feel a bit drained. The adrenaline of the fighting and the display of your powers distracted you from the exhaustion, but now that it's over you feel a hollow sort of pain inside your chest, and a fierce headache banging against your skull.

*if Magician = "1"
    You glance at Aunt Alice, her smile filled with pride. "Let's try again if you're ready; I'll teach you your very first spell."
*if Warrior = "1"
    You glance at Aunt Alice, her smile filled with pride. "Let's try again if you're ready; I'll teach you your very first sequence."

*fake_choice
    #I agree, eager to learn the first of many ways to expand my abilities. Who knows when I'll need to use them?
        *set bodydrain true
        *goto training3
        *page_break
    #I disagree, wanting to rest instead.
        *set bodydrain false
        *goto training4
        *page_break

*label training3
*if Magician = "1"
    "When I raise my sword, the sparring will begin," Aunt Alice says. She stands across the field, framed against the now pitch-black sky. "Then, you will repeat this incantation; [i]peribit[/i]. Take care to summon your powers."
*if Warrior = "1"
    "When I raise my sword, the sparring will begin," Aunt Alice says. She stands across the field, framed against the now pitch-black sky. "Then, you will raise your sword, keeping your elbows bent. When I am in range, arch at a 90-degree angle with all the godly strength you have. Take care to summon it." 
    
With a simple nod, she begins rushing toward you.

You think back to what spurred the burst of power before, and try to channel into that same state of mind. [i]Relax[/i] you command yourself. [i]The power is still inside me.[/i]

The familiar feeling of ancient power snakes through your body. It spreads through your muscles and pounds against your chest. You begin to smile in satisfaction at how quickly you're able to summon it, but then...

The most painful sensation you have ever felt seizes your momentary elation. It feels as if the power that flowed through you has turned sinister, attempting to poison you from the inside out. The pounding you had always felt on the back of your skull is intensified as if the very matter will shatter. A strong wave of pain grasps your chest, leaving you breathless.

Your knees hit the soft earth. 

Aunt Alice is beside you in a second, hands supporting and voice coaxing.

Your eyes close.
*page_break It is late in the night when you finally come to.
*goto trainingfinal
*label trainingfinal
You hesitantly open your eyes.

You find yourself arranged on your favorite couch on the balcony just outside your bedroom, ice packs on your knees and shoulders, bandages wrapped around your hands.

Aunt Alice sits beside you, cradling a book. When you stir, she turns to you. 

"Do you remember what I told you?" she begins, her voice grave. "'Your body is your weapon, but it can and will betray you when it feels that you've neglected its needs. You have great power, but you need to know the extent of that power.'?"

You nod.

"I waited to hear, 'I can't go on, Aunt Alice. It's too much.'" she stands from the couch, walking toward the balcony. You think, for a moment, that she's said all that she wanted to, but then she continues. "Why didn't you stop?"

*fake_choice
    #"You sound as if you knew that another burst of power would harm me. Why didn't you [i]tell[/i] me to stop?" I ask.
        Aunt Alice sighs. "Because I will not always be around to tell you what your limits are!" she exclaims, whirling to face you. "I will not always be around to guide you when you need it. It's important for you to be in tune with your body's needs. I wanted you to know what it felt like to over exert yourself, to better educate you."
        
        "You [i]wanted[/i] me to feel pain?" you ask incredulously, disbelief in your voice.
        
        At first, Aunt Alice doesn't answer. She simply presses her lips into a thin, straight line, then speaks. "When I had realized that you had no intention of taking this training seriously, that you were choosing to ignore your body...I knew that this was the best way to make my point known."
        
        "So, yes. I wanted to introduce you to the pain; it has taught you a lesson that mercy never could. I'd rather you experience the consequences of exertion in my presence than anywhere else. You will remember it, and that has made you stronger."
        
        Aunt Alice takes in a shallow breath, smoothing down her robes and gathering herself. "You need rest. I've told the school you've come down with the stomach flu and won't be in for the next week." 
        
        You watch as she makes her way to the double doors, hand resting gently on the handle. "Goodnight, ${name}."
        *page_break "Next in line!" a gruff voice calls out.
        *goto presentdaay
    #"I could have handled it if you had bothered to train me sooner." I accuse.
        "No amount of training could have prepared you for this!" she exclaims, whirling to face you. "I will not always be around to guide you when you need it. It's important for you to be in tune with your body's needs. I wanted you to know what it felt like to over exert yourself, to better educate you."
        
        "You [i]wanted[/i] me to feel pain?" you ask incredulously, disbelief in your voice.
        
        At first, Aunt Alice doesn't answer. She simply presses her lips into a thin, straight line, then speaks. "When I had realized that you had no intention of taking this training seriously, that you were choosing to ignore your body...I knew that this was the best way to make my point known."
        
        "So, yes. I wanted to introduce you to the pain; it has taught you a lesson that mercy never could. I'd rather you experience the consequences of exertion in my presence than anywhere else. You will remember it, and that has made you stronger."
        
        Aunt Alice takes in a shallow breath, smoothing down her robes and gathering herself. "You need rest. I've told the school you've come down with the stomach flu and won't be in for the next week." 
        
        You watch as she makes her way to the double doors, hand resting gently on the handle. "Goodnight, ${name}."
        *page_break "Next in line!" a gruff voice calls out.
        *goto presentdaay
    #"I thought I was strong enough; that if I just ignored the pain it would fade away." I admit.
        "Pain isn't something so easily ignored!" she exclaims, whirling to face you. "I will not always be around to guide you when you need it. It's important for you to be in tune with your body's needs. I wanted you to know what it felt like to over exert yourself, to better educate you."
        
        "You [i]wanted[/i] me to feel pain?" you ask incredulously, disbelief in your voice.
        
        At first, Aunt Alice doesn't answer. She simply presses her lips into a thin, straight line, then speaks. "When I had realized that you had no intention of taking this training seriously, that you were choosing to ignore your body...I knew that this was the best way to make my point known."
        
        "So, yes. I wanted to introduce you to the pain; it has taught you a lesson that mercy never could. I'd rather you experience the consequences of exertion in my presence than anywhere else. You will remember it, and that has made you stronger."
        
        Aunt Alice takes in a shallow breath, smoothing down her robes and gathering herself. "You need rest. I've told the school you've come down with the stomach flu and won't be in for the next week." 
        
        You watch as she makes her way to the double doors, hand resting gently on the handle. "Goodnight, ${name}."
        *page_break "Next in line!" a gruff voice calls out.
        *goto presentdaay
*label training4
You expect Aunt Alice to be disappointed, or even unimpressed by your decision, but instead, she is all praise.

You sit in your favorite chair on the balcony outside of your room, ice packs on your sore muscles and bandages wrapped expertly around your hands.

"If you had continued to push yourself to such extremes in such a short amount of time, there is no doubt in my mind that you would have collapsed," Aunt Alice murmurs, standing up from her seat. "Remember what I mentioned to you before? 'Your body is your weapon, but it can and will betray you when it feels that you've neglected its needs. You have great power, but you need to know the extent of that power.'?"

You nod, your shoulders crying out in pain from the very movement.

"I'm glad you listened to your body; such restraint at your age is nearly unheard of." Aunt Alice turns to you. "My pride is unparalleled, ${name}."
*page_break "Next in line!" a gruff voice calls out.
*label presentdaay
The line at the single register has dwindled down, thankfully, and you're as close to checkout as you can expect with so many creatures in the Magikeep. You allow your gaze to travel and find that it lands on a shadowy figure, a familiar black hood hanging low over their face. Besides the typical outfit of fine black cloth, a criss-cross of worn leather is slung across their chest, and what appears to be sheathed twin swords peek out from behind their back. 

Your eyes widen. Your heart beats faster, seemingly slamming aganist the confines of your chest...

A hunter. 

*page_break "Hey," A dwarf says. "Are you gonna pay for anything or just stand there taking up space?"
You carefully put down your items and attempt to take on an air of nonchalance. You even throw a smile at the dwarf for good measure. You don't dare glance at the hunter.

The dwarf, whose nametag reads, [i]"HELLO, MY NAME IS TOM!"[/i], rings you up. You let out a breath of relief when the currency is, in fact, Drachmas. You throw down a bundle of coins, probably more than your items were worth, and rush out of the growing line, almost running into a dithering elf.

"Hey kid, if you're sick, puke in the bathroom! I just got the floors waxed, [i]Durkna[/i]!" Tom screams after you, using a derogative word for non-dwarves.

[i]The bathroom![/i] you think. You turn around, and spot an isolated door near a rack of dark potions. 
*page_break When the door slams behind you, it echoes through the confined space.
Bracing your hands against the sink's cold surface, you close your eyes and inhale.

Rarely, since your years on the run, had you been caught off guard like this. You could always sense them before they came for you. Now you we're completely taken by surprise. You [i]knew[/i] you should have gotten your shield charm replenished earlier! It was a sloppy mistake, one you couldn't afford. Being sloppy leads to finding yourself in situations exactly like this.

Moments before, on your way to the bathroom, you had risked a glance over your shoulder, and saw no signs of the hunter, but you could still feel them. In fact, you could feel [i]several[/i] of them.

You lift your head, and stare into your reflection in the foggy, small mirror.

You are...
*fake_choice
    #Biracial.
        *set custom true
        *set race2 true
        *set race "Biracial"
        *goto body
    #African American.
        *set custom true
        *set race "African American"
        *goto body
    #Caucasian.
        *set custom true
        *set race "Caucasian"
        *goto body
    #White American.
        *set custom true
        *set race "White"
        *goto body
    #Asian.
        *set custom true
        *set race "Asian"
        *goto body
    #Pacific Islander.
        *set custom true
        *set race "a Pacific Islander"
        *goto body
    #Native American.
        *set custom true
        *set race "Native American"
        *goto body
    #Hispanic.
        *set custom true
        *set race "Hispanic"
        *goto body
    #Latino.
        *set custom true
        *set race "Latino"
        *goto body
    #Middle Eastern.
        *set custom true
        *set race "Middle Eastern"
        *goto body
    #racially ambiguous.
        *set custom true
        *set race "racially ambiguous"
        *goto body

*label whichraces
*fake_choice
    #African American.
        *set race0 "African American"
        *goto race2
    #Caucasian.
        *set race0 "Caucasian"
        *goto race2
    #White American.
        *set race0 "White"
        *goto race2
    #Asian.
        *set race0 "Asian"
        *goto race2
    #Pacific Islander.
        *set race0 "Pacific Islander"
        *goto race2
    #Native American.
        *set race0 "Native American"
        *goto race2
    #Hispanic.
        *set race0 "Hispanic"
        *goto race2
    #Latino.
        *set race0 "Latino"
        *goto race2
    #Middle Eastern.
        *set race0 "Middle Eastern"
        *goto race2
*label race2
...and...
*fake_choice
    #African American.
        *set race1 "African American"
        *goto body
    #Caucasian.
        *set race1 "Caucasian"
        *goto body
    #White American.
        *set race1 "White"
        *goto body
    #Asian.
        *set race1 "Asian"
        *goto body
    #Pacific Islander.
        *set race1 "Pacific Islander"
        *goto body
    #Native American.
        *set race1 "Native American"
        *goto body
    #Hispanic.
        *set race1 "Hispanic"
        *goto body
    #Latino.
        *set race1 "Latino"
        *goto body
    #Middle Eastern.
        *set race1 "Middle Eastern"
        *goto body
*label body
Your aunt's explantion of the Birds and the Bee's had been more...alternative than what you'd expect a normal teenager would have gotten.

She had explained that your appearance was a singular result of your mother's DNA, given that the gods had no DNA, only human vessels used for reproduction. You had questions, of course, and it was only after three of those questions that aunt Alice declared the subject off limits, stating that she suddenly had "Simply the biggest headache."

Anyhow, your looks are not entirely due to DNA; you often wonder if you have...
*label bodytype
*allow_reuse
*fake_choice
    #an athletic build due to your years in hiding.
        *set bodytype "athletic"
        You turn cautiously to the side, and you note the well-worked muscles. Your legs, like the rest of you, are shapely, and your arms are toned and limber. Your stomach is a flat mass of muscle.
         
        You turn once more and note your height, something else inherited from your mother. You're fairly...
        *gosub whatheight
        *goto bodytypecheck
    #impossibly elegant limbs due to your years in hiding.
        *set bodytype "lithe"
        You seem to have a profound delicacy to you. But despite this, you can feel the undeniable quickness in your movements. You turn your body cautiously to the side, examining yourself further. Your legs are lean, as are your arms.
                 
        You turn once more and note your height, something else inherited from your mother. You're fairly...
        *gosub whatheight
        *goto bodytypecheck
    #a slight build due to your years in hiding.
        *set bodytype "built"
        You don't have an overabundance of muscle, but you can see a new definition in your arms and legs. You turn to the side, and see that although subtle, it's there.
                 
        You turn once more and note your height, something else inherited from your mother. You're fairly...
        *gosub whatheight
        *goto bodytypecheck
    #a muscular build due to your years in hiding.
        *set bodytype "muscular"
        Your muscles are formidable, with an undeniable power behind them. You turn your body cautiously to the side and note the muscle that flexes. There is no doubt you could cause some damage.
                 
        You turn once more and note your height, something else inherited from your mother. You're fairly...
        *gosub whatheight
        *goto bodytypecheck
    #ample curves due to your years in hiding.
        *set bodytype "curvy"
        Your body is all soft curves and gentle slopes. You turn your body cautiously to the side, examining it. Your legs are curved and toned, same as your arms and your stomach.
                 
        You turn once more and note your height, something else inherited from your mother. You're fairly...
        *gosub whatheight
        *goto bodytypecheck
*label whatheight
*fake_choice
    #tall.
        *set height "tall"
        Your huge growth spurt hadn't kicked in until your were well into middle school, but you had also been one of the taller one's in school. Last you bothered to check, you were well over six feet.
        *return
    #statuesque.
        *set height "statuesque"
        You never had a huge growth spurt, but you wouldn't call yourself tiny. You're taller than average, and have maintained that height even after running away. None the less, no one could argue that you didn't have a certain air of elegance in your posture.
        
        Last you bothered to check, you were just an inch or two under six feet.
        *return
    #of average height.
        *set height "of average height"
        You were never the tallest, or the shortest growing up. Last you bothered to check, you were just above five feet and five inches.
        *return
    #tiny.
        *set height "short"
        Your growth spurt never came, despite aunt Alice's claims of [i]"any day now, just drink your milk!"[/i] You were always one of the shorter one's growing up, and that didn't change even after years on the run. 
        
        Last you bothered to check, you were just at the five feet mark.
        *return
*label bodytypecheck

Of course, the stress of your situation could be infering with how you view yourself. Are you sure you're ${bodytype} and ${height}?
*choice
  #Yes. I am undoubtedly ${height} and ${bodytype}.
    *goto face
  #No; I really need some sleep.
    *goto bodytype

*label face
You stare into your own ${eyecolor} eyes, and note the hue of bruised purple under them from restless nights. You should probably get yourself on a first name basis with a regular sleeping schedule.

Even while you were growing up, you remember that people would constantly say that the most noteable thing about your face is that...
*label facial
*allow_reuse
*choice
    #it is heart shaped, with a medley of soft lines and curves. 
        *set facial "heart-shaped with soft lines"
        Aunt Alice had often said that you reminded her of an early da Vinci painting; your lips are fuller than average, curved up in a perpetual smile. Your cheekbones are rounded, and there seems to always be a soft blush on your cheeks. 
        *goto facialcheck
    #it is oval shaped, with a subtle hardness to it. 
        *set facial "oval-shaped"
        Aunt Alice had often said that you reminded her of a Giotto painting; your chin is the meeting point of oval jaw. Your brows arch over your deep set eyes, and your cheeks round off on either side of your angular nose.
        *goto facialcheck
    #it is square shaped, with sharper lines. 
        *set facial "square shaped with sharp lines"
        Aunt Alice had often said that you reminded her of a Proto painting; your jawline is sharp, your cheekbones are prominent, and your nose is straight. There is a certain intelligence to your face.
        *goto facialcheck
    #it is rounder, with an nearly impossible symmetry.
        *set facial "round and symmetrical"
        Aunt Alice had often said that you reminded her of the work of Michelangelo; your face is rounder, most notably your cheeks. Your thick eyebrows frame your features, which seem to be in complete balance with one another. There is an openness to your face.
        *goto facialcheck
*label facialcheck
*line_break 
*line_break
Are you sure your face is ${facial}? Your mind could be playing tricks on you again.
*choice
  #Yes. My face is ${facial}.
    *goto hair
  #No. Did I mention I'm exhausted?
    *goto facial
*label hair
You spend a long time gazing back at yourself, then turn the faucet, watching the water spew out. You lean forward and splash the water onto your face, thankful for the cold clarity. 

You run your wet hands over your...
*allow_reuse
*choice
    #impossibly long hair.
        *set hairlength "long"
        It cascades down your back in silky waves. It's the color of...

        *gosub whathcolor
        
        *goto haircheck
    #shoulder length hair.
        *set hairlength "shoulder length"
        It stops just at your shoulders. It's the color of...
        
        *gosub whathcolor
        
        *goto haircheck
    #short hair.
        *set hairlength "short"
        It curls around your ears, framing your face. It's the color of...
        
        *gosub whathcolor
        
        *goto haircheck
    #close-cropped hair.
        *set hairlength "close-cropped"
        It is cut from your last haircut, neat and even, the color of...

        *gosub whathcolor
        
        *goto haircheck
    #half shaved head.
        *set hairlength "half-shaved"
        Your hair still grazes your shoulder on one side, and is closely shaved on the other. It's the color of...
        
        *gosub whathcolor
        
        *goto haircheck
    #edgy haircut.
        *set hairlength "layered"
        You turn to the side, inspecting the close cut, and lower your head, seeing your tousled hair untouched on the top. It's the color of...
        
        *gosub whathcolor
        
        *goto haircheck
*label whathcolor
*choice
    #the midnight sky, albeit without the shining stars.
        *set haircolor "midnight black"
        *return
    #the fiery red of the setting sun.
        *set haircolor "copper red"
        *return
    #warm, melting chocolate.
        *set haircolor "warm brown"
        *return
    #the golden thread of cupids bow.
        *set haircolor "golden blonde"
        *return
    #a vivid purple, with touches of faded blue.
        *set haircolor "vivid purple"
        *return
    #a vibrant sunlit emerald.
        *return
*label haircheck
Are you sure your hair is ${hairlength} and ${haircolor}?
*choice
  #Yes. My hair is still ${hairlength} and ${haircolor}.
    *goto also
  #No, I must have been mistaken.
    *goto hair
*label also
Is there something else notable about your appearance?
*choice
  #Yes.
    *goto notablefeatures
  #No.
    *goto nowwhat
*label notablefeatures
Your dazed eyes search for your...
*allow_reuse
*choice
    *selectable_if (scar = false) #scar.
        *set scar true
        I place my fingers on the scar that cuts through...
        *fake_choice
            #my lip.
                *set scar_location "your lip"
                *goto scarcheck
            #my eyebrow.
                *set scar_location "your eyebrow"
                *goto scarcheck
            #the width of my eye.
                *set scar_location "the width of your eye"
                *goto scarcheck
            #the bridge of my nose.
                *set scar_location "the bridge of your nose"
                *goto scarcheck
            #the entirety of the left side of my face.
                *set scar_location "the left side of your face"
                *goto scarcheck
            #the entirety of the right side of my face.
                *set scar_location "the right side of your face"
                *goto scarcheck
    *selectable_if (piercing = false) #piercing.
        *set piercing true
        The...
        *fake_choice
            #nose piercing gleams under the harsh light.
                *set piercing_location "nose"
                *goto piercingcheck
            #ear piercing gleams under the harsh light.
                *set piercing_location "ear"
                *goto piercingcheck
            #eyebrow piercing gleams under the harsh light.
                *set piercing_location "eyebrow"
                *goto piercingcheck
    *selectable_if (tattoo = false) #tattoo.
        *set tattoo true
        *fake_choice
            #I pull up my sleeves, and smile when I see the familiar inking.
                *set tattoo_location "arm"
                *goto tattoocheck
            #I bring my hand to my face, and smile when I see the familiar inking on my wrist.
                *set tattoo_location "wrist"
                *goto tattoocheck
            #I turn my head, and smile when I see the familiar inking on the back of my neck.
                *set tattoo_location "neck"
                *goto tattoocheck
            #I lift my pant leg, and smile when I see the familiar inking on my leg.
                *set tattoo_location "leg"
                *goto tattoocheck
            #I lift my hoodie, and smile when I see the familiar inking on my back.
                *set tattoo_location "back"
                *goto tattoocheck   
    #never mind, I must have been mistaken.
        *goto nowwhat
*label scarcheck
Are you sure that you have a scar on ${scar_location}?
*choice
  #Yes.
    *goto also
  #No, I must have been mistaken.
    *goto also
*label piercingcheck
Are you sure that you have a piercing in your ${piercing_location}?
*choice
  #Yes; I have a piercing in my ${piercing_location}.
    *goto also
  #No, I must have been mistaken.
    *goto also
*label tattoocheck
Are you sure that you have a tattoo on your ${tattoo_location}?
*choice
  #Yes; I have a tattoo on my ${tattoo_location}.
    *goto also
  #No, I must have been mistaken.
    *goto also
*label nowwhat
Sometimes, looking at yourself makes you feel more grounded despite the chaos surrounding you. Just by standing still in the quiet before the inevitable storm, you begin to feel calmer. You can feel your breath becoming steadier now. You lift your palm and squint at the circular birthmark that takes vacancy there. It's always been about the size of a penny, but lately, it seems to have grown in size.

You glance up at a faint buzzing sound and note a fly banging its tiny body repeatedly into the light bulb. Your eyes wander...and that's when you notice the window.

It's hazardly cracked open, but if you had to guess, you'd fit through with little trouble. Outside, you can hear the sounds of a police siren get closer, then slowly fade away, leaving you in the quiet once more. You lock the bathroom door behind you before turning back to the sink. You brace your feet onto the porceline edge, pushing down some of your weight to test its strength. After being sure that you won't fall right on your ass, you begin your ascent.

Your fingers grapple onto the edge of the window, and you take a breath before lifting yourself higher, until your upper half is through the window. With the unpleasant pressure of the windowsill pressing into your stomach, you heave yourself through the rest of the way.

*page_break You, predictably, land on your ass.
Dusting off your jeans, you stand up. You're in an alley with a large trashbin and a few broken bottles littering the floor. You pull your hood up once again, your skin flushed against the cold breeze, and think of a plan.

It's been a blissful few months since your last encounter with the hunters, an unknown group of assailants that have chased you for years. For a few days, you had thought that they finally left you alone...but you should have known that it was too good to be true.
*page_break The first time you saw a hunter was after your fourteenth birthday.
*set clothing "a Preston Preparatory Academy uniform"
You're walking home with your...
*fake_choice
    #bestfriend, the sun having long gone into slumber.
        *set bfname "Benji"
        *set bfgender "male"
        *set bfhe "he"
        *set bfhim "him"
        *set bfhis "his"
        *goto firstenc
    #boyfriend, the sun having long gone into slumber.
        *set bf true
        *set bfname "Sawyer"
        *set bfgender "male"
        *set bfhe "he"
        *set bfhim "him"
        *set bfhis "his"
        *goto firstenc
    #girlfriend, the sun having long gone into slumber.
        *set bf true
        *set bfname "Aelin"
        *set bfgender "female"
        *set bfhe "she"
        *set bfhim "her"
        *set bfhis "her"
        *goto firstenc
*label firstenc
*if bf = true
    ${bfname}'s hand is wrapped around yours, ${bfhis} steps in sync with your own on the bustling streets of downtown Phoenix. Your relationship is something resembling an intimate friendship more than anything else, like most relationships between people your age, but pleasant nonetheless.
*if bf = false
    ${bfname} walks beside you, ${bfhis} steps in sync with your own on the bustling streets of downtown Phoenix. Your friendship had flourished after an incidental bump in the cafeteria, both your meals landing on one another's uniforms. After the initial shock and several ice-breakinh jokes, you had declared yourself friends, and it had gladly stayed that way.

You had spent the week prior begging Aunt Alice to let you stay out later than your regulated "no later than 6 PM" curfew. You both know the curfew is ridiculous, an extreme precaution that stems from your Aunt's possesive and over protective nature.

Today is one of the few exceptions to the curfew, and you revel in the freedom.

After school, still clad in your Preston Prepatory uniform, ${bfname} had treated you to slushies from Al's, which was much appreciated with the increasingly rising temperatures. You walk in the twilight of the late spring weather, the sweet cold of your drink sitting in your stomach and coating your tongue, feeling triumphant in knowing you have many more hours of freedom before your leash reaches its limit.

${bfname} nods to a man walking down the sidewalk clad only in his heart-printed boxers, hairy chest on full display as he passes the two of you. "Now [i]that[/i] is a man without fear!" ${bfname} comments. "Could you imagine a world where everyone was that brave?"
*fake_choice
    #"Well," I begin. "At least he's comfortable."
        *set earnest +1
        ${bfname} grins, taking a second glance at the man. "But then again, there's a fine line between comfortable and, 'please put some clothes on, there are children watching'."
        *goto suspect
    #"I'd rather not, actually." I muse. "There are just some things you can't [i]unsee[/i]."
        *set sarcastic +1
        ${bfname} laughs, the sound bouncing off the walls.
        *goto suspect
    #"A world where everyone walks around like a damn idiot?" I sneer. "I'll pass."
        *set mean +1
        "Ouch," ${bfname} winces, placing a hand on your forehead. "Is the heat getting to you?"
        *goto suspect
    #I shrug noncommitatlly. I rarely have anything to say in these situations.
        *set stoic +1
        "Come on," ${bfname} teases, pointing over his shoulder at the man. "How can you [i]not[/i] comment on that?"
        *goto suspect
*label suspect

Soon, the languid atmosphere of the afternoon is replaced by a sense of heavy unease that trails behind you.

It begins to materialize on the back of your neck, goosebumps rising on your flesh. The feeling is like heavy sand, dragging itself over your neck, down your back, and sluggishly around to your chest, where it settles there like a heavy stone. ${bfname} continues to speak beside you, ${bfhis} voice nothing but a distant, soft hum compared to the shrill ringing in your ears.

As you continue to walk down the still-crowded sidewalk, darkness has already began to creep in, painting the once relatively light streets in a dark, purple light. As if compelled by some strange force, you slowly, carefully, turn your head...

Only to make eye contact with a girl in a black hood five paces behind you, her shoulders hunched forward, her steps light against the cobblestone.

You quickly turn your head. [i]A hood in nearly a hundred degree heat?[/i] you think to yourself.

*if bf = true
    *page_break "Hey, ${name}," ${bfname} calls.

    $!{bfhe} squeezes your hand, regarding your behavior with concern. "What's wrong? You're sweating...which wouldn't be weird in this weather, but you look sick, too."
*if bf = false
    *page_break "Hey, ${name}," ${bfname} says, waving ${bfhis} hand in front of your face.

    "What's wrong? You're sweating...which wouldn't be weird with this weather, but you look sick, too. I haven't seen that look on your face since you ate the mystery meat last semester."

"I'm..." you begin, then pause, noticing another hooded figure across the street from where you two stand.

They appear to be reading a MISSING PERSON's poster, but you know better; they're watching you out of the corner of their eyes, attempting to keep their demeanor casual. You risk a few more glances around the busy streets, catching sight of at least four more hooded figures, all ingaging in normal activites. But, every once in a while, like clockwork, one of them inclines their head in your direction, or tugs on their ear, or blinks in a repetetive pattern.

The feeling of dread and paranoia intensifies. Your hand tightens around your cup, crushing Al's face in the process. You're being followed; you have no idea how you're so sure, but the warning rattles against your bones, true and clear. You'd have to be suicidal not to listen to it.

With your heart accelerating in your chest, you...
*fake_choice
    #Drop my drink, and begin pushing through the crowds of people on the street.
        You hear your cup land on the asphalt with a [i]splat![/i], someone behind you letting out a yelp. ${bfname} calls out your name, ${bfhis} voice tinged with frantic confusion.

        But you don't care; your thoughts are split between navigating between the crowds and keeping an eye on the hooded figures that have begun to leave their previous positions.

        "Watch it, kid!" a bearded man yells at you, shoving your shoulder. You stumble backward, barely catching yourself before you hit the ground. It's only with a backward glance that you see ${bfname} coming toward you, muttering out apologies as ${bfhe} pushes past people.

        "What are you doing? What [i]was[/i] that?" ${bfname} asks, coming to stand beside you. From over their shoulder, you see the girl in the hood who was previously a few feet behind you now less than three.

        "No time to explain," you call out, pushing ${bfhim} along with you as you catch sight of another hooded figure fast approaching. "Just run!"

        ${bfname} doesn't need to be told twice. Soon, you two are out of the throngs of the crowd, running away from main street, and hopefully, the hooded people trailing you.
        *page_break
        *goto scene2
    #Continue to sip my drink, and attempt to act casual.
        It isn't the time to draw anymore attention to yourself. You know that the second the people in the hoods know you've caught on, the sooner your safety will be further compromised.

        "We should stop by Bagel on a Stick; they finally found out how to get the chocolate sauce to stay on." ${bfname} continues beside you.

        "Yeah, sure," you reply, trying to keep an eye on a suspicious figure that was begining to turn the corner.

        "And then we should get matching tattoos to commemorate the occasion; I'm thinking a bagel on fire. Something classy."

        "Great," you say distractedly, glancing backward. The girl in the hood was now no more than a few paces behind you on the street, pushing past a group of kids in order to get closer. Soon, she'd—

        "Watch it, kid!" a bearded man yells at you, shoving your shoulder. You stumble backward, ${bfname} barely catching you before you hit the ground. It's only with a backward glance that you see the girl glance up at you, narrowing her eyes. You make eye contact, your eyes meeting her alarmingly black ones. And then, she begins to charge toward you.

        "Go, go!" you call out, pushing ${bfname} along with you as you catch sight of another hooded figure fast approaching. "Run!"

        ${bfname} doesn't need to be told twice. Soon, you two are out of the throngs of the crowd, running away from main street, and hopefully, the hooded people who trail you.
        *page_break
        *goto scene2
*label scene2
You know these streets like the back of your hand. When you began running, you were fast approaching Ridell & Berk avenue, which is a more expensive verson of Main street, sandwiched in between large tourist attractions and posh, designer stores. To your right, atop the hills, is your neighborhood, Rosewood drive. Finally, to your left is Wesley Oasis, a quiet suburb mostly occupied by parks and houses.

You and ${bfname} are crouched behind the wall of a 7-Eleven, having stopped to catch your breaths. You ran for as long as you could manage before you felt exhaustion creep up on you. Beside you, ${bfname}'s black hair falls into ${bfhis} eyes, slick with sweat. Both your breaths are short and labored, straining from the effort.

The hooded figures could be anywhere, really. You thought you lost them when you passed through a sandwich shop, but three were still on your tail last you checked. But now, there are none to be seen, which makes you more nervous than anything.

"What do we do?" ${bfname} says beside you. Those are the first words ${bfhe}'s said since you began to run.

*fake_choice
    #"We're going to pick them off one by one," I say. "We have to end this here and now."
        *set fight true
        ${bfname}'s eyes close. "Pick them off? We saw the same people, right?" ${bfname} sighs, leaning ${bfhis} hands onto ${bfhis} knees. "We're fourteen! This is crazy."

        "If you want to leave, then leave. You're not the one they're after, anyway." you say, irritance in your voice. You had long since concluded that the hooded figures were after you and you alone; you're a Demigod, and ${bfname} is just a mortal. It's more likely that their interest, whatever it is, lies in you.

        *if bf =true
            "I'm not leaving you, ${name}. I'm pretty sure that warrants a breakup." ${bfname} says. "But why don't we just go to the police?"
        *if bf =false
            "What kind of friend would I be if I did that, ${name}?" ${bfname} says. "But why don't we just go to the police?"

        "Yes, because that always works out." you muse. "It's almost as if you've never watched a movie. Or a TV show. Or read a book."

        "Okay, I get it." ${bfhe} sighs, pinching the bridge of ${bfhis} nose. "Then how are we supposed to fight them? Seriously, where is this confidence coming from?"

        *if Warrior =1
            [i]Months of intense physical training,[/i] you think. Maybe your confidence was a stretch, but you knew that you were more than prepared to take on one, or maybe even two, hooded figures. You wouldn't have been able to say the same thing before the incident with ${bullyname}, but after your experience, you now had godly strength [i]and[/i] magic flowing through you.

            You consider telling ${bfname} this, just to ease their worries, and maybe share something about yourself that will strengthen your bond.
        *if Magician =1
            [i]Months of studying the complex art of magic,[/i] you think. Maybe your confidence was a stretch, but you knew that you were more than prepared to take on one, or maybe even two, of the hooded figures. You wouldn't have been able to say the same thing before the incident with ${bullyname}, but after your experience, you now had godly magic [i]and[/i] strength flowing through you.

            You consider telling ${bfname} this, just to ease ${bfhis} worries, and maybe share something about yourself that will strengthen your bond.
        *fake_choice
            #I tell ${bfhim}, knowing this may be my only chance to do so.
                *if Magician =1
                    "It's because of this," you say, lifting your hand. The power is easier to call upon now, more like an old friend than anything else. You feel the now familiar rush of it begin to flow through your body, igniting every cell within. The sharp pain in the back of your head is still there, but you've become so accustomed to it that it's no longer a bother.

                    The ${magicolor} tendrils of magic swirl around your hand, and you watch ${bfname}'s reaction. $!{bfhis} eyes widen, but only for a second, the surprised expression giving way to horror.

                    "What...?"
                *if Warrior =1
                    "It's because of this," you say, turning to face the grimy backside of a dumpster. You take a calming breath before spreading your arms under the belly of the cold metal, and lifting as high as you can. You brace yourself for exertion, but it doesn't come. Since training, physical feats have become easier to manage without exhuasting yourself.

                    You quietly lay the dumpster down, then turn to ${bfname}, waiting for a reaction. $!{bfhis} eyes widen, but only for a second, the surprised expression giving way to horror.

                    "What...?"

                "Calm down," you begin, trying to keep your voice soothing "I'm not going to hurt you—but I have to explain some things to you."

                You spend the next few minutes retelling your story to ${bfname}, stopping every few moments to check over your shoulder, never leaving your eyes away from the area around you for too long. An ambush is the last thing you need.

                "I think..." ${bfhe} begins. You hold your breath. "That this may the coolest thing that's ever happened to me. And you know how excited I was about meeting that Elvis impersonator."

                You let out a sigh of relief. "I'll explain more later, but we need to move. Now."
                *goto choosepath
            #But I can't tell ${bfhim}, not now, in the midst of all this chaos.
                You let out a tired sigh. "I know it sounds crazy, but I just...have a feeling that we'll make it out of this alive. Just trust me, alright?"

                ${bfname} crosses {bfhis} arms, closing ${bfhis} eyes. After a moment, the only sound coming from a distant icecream trucks melody, ${bfhe} speaks.

                "I trust you," At ${bfhis} admission, you let out a sigh of relief. "So let's do this; I have to be home by ten, you know."
                *goto choosepath
    #"Do I look like I know what to do? I've been winging it so far, to be honest." I admit.
        ${bfname}'s eyes close. "Really reassuring."

        "I got us this far; it's your turn to make mind numbingly difficult choices."

        ${bfname} sighs, leaning ${bfhis} hands onto ${bfhis} knees. "We're fourteen! This is crazy."

        "If you want to leave, then leave. You're not the one they're after, anyway." you say, irritance in your voice. You had long since concluded that the hooded figures were after you and you alone; you're a Demigod, and ${bfname} is just a mortal. It's more likely that their interest, whatever it is, lies in you.

        *if bf =true
            "I'm not leaving you, ${name}. I'm pretty sure that warrants a breakup." ${bfname} says. "But why don't we just go to the police?"
        *if bf =false
            "What kind of friend would I be if I did that, ${name}?" ${bfname} says. "But why don't we just go to the police?"

        "Yes, because that always works out." you muse. "It's almost as if you've never watched a movie. Or a TV show. Or read a book."

        "Okay, I get it." ${bfhe} sighs, pinching the bridge of ${bfhis} nose. "I guess...our best chance is to lose them. I doubt we can fight them, but you seemt o think otherwise. Seriously, where is this confidence coming from?"

        *if Warrior =1
            [i]Months of intense physical training,[/i] you think. Maybe your confidence was a stretch, but you knew that you were more than prepared to take on one, or maybe even two, hooded figures. You wouldn't have been able to say the same thing before the incident with ${bullyname}, but after your experience, you now had godly strength [i]and[/i] magic flowing through you.

            You consider telling ${bfname} this, just to ease their worries, and maybe share something about yourself that will strengthen your bond.
        *if Magician =1
            [i]Months of studying the complex art of magic,[/i] you think. Maybe your confidence was a stretch, but you knew that you were more than prepared to take on one, or maybe even two, of the hooded figures. You wouldn't have been able to say the same thing before the incident with ${bullyname}, but after your experience, you now had godly magic [i]and[/i] strength flowing through you.

            You consider telling ${bfname} this, just to ease their worries, and maybe share something about yourself that will strengthen your bond.
        *fake_choice
            #I tell ${bfhim}, knowing this may be my only chance to do so.
                *if Magician =1
                    "It's because of this," you say, lifting your hand. The power is easier to call upon now, more like an old friend than anything else. You feel the now familiar rush of it begin to flow through your body, igniting every cell within. The sharp pain in the back of your head is still there, but you've become so accustomed to it that it's no longer a bother.

                    The ${magicolor} tendrils of magic swirl around your hand, and you watch ${bfname}'s reaction. $!{bfhis} eyes widen, but only for a second, the surprised expression giving way to horror.

                    "What...?"
                *if Warrior =1
                    "It's because of this," you say, turning to face the grimy backside of a dumpster. You take a calming breath before spreading your arms under the belly of the cold metal, and lifting as high as you can. You brace yourself for exertion, but it doesn't come. Since training, physical feats have become easier to manage without exhuasting yourself.

                    You quietly lay the dumpster down, then turn to ${bfname}, waiting for a reaction. $!{bfhis} eyes widen, but only for a second, the surprised expression giving way to horror.

                    "What...?"

                "Calm down," you begin, trying to keep your voice soothing "I'm not going to hurt you—but I have to explain some things to you."

                You spend the next few minutes retelling your story to ${bfname}, stopping every few moments to check over your shoulder, never leaving your eyes away from the area around you for too long. An ambush is the last thing you need.

                "I think..." ${bfhe} begins. You hold your breath. "That this may the coolest thing that's ever happened to me. And you know how excited I was about meeting that Elvis impersonator."

                You let out a sigh of relief and turn yout attention back to the two paths in front of you.
                *goto choosepath
            #But I can't tell ${bfhim}, not now, in the midst of all this chaos.
                You let out a tired sigh. "I know it sounds crazy, but I just...have a feeling that we'll make it out of this alive. Just trust me, alright?"

                ${bfname} crosses ${bfhis} arms, closing ${bfhis} eyes. After a moment, the only sound coming from a distant icecream trucks melody, ${bfhe} speaks.

                "I trust you," At ${bfhis} admission, you let out a sigh of relief. "So let's do this; I have to be home by ten."

                You turn your attention back to the two paths in front of you.
                *goto choosepath
*label choosepath
*choice
    #We'll head to Ridell & Berk. There's an abundance of people, in addition to countless stores and tourist attractions to manuever through.
        *goto Ridell&Berk
    #We'll head toward my neighborhood, Rosewood drive. We can lose them on the journey there; a bus ride and a short walk through the open forest.
        *goto Rosewood
*label Rosewood
You run for a few heart-pumping minutes before you see the familiar streets leading to the station. You've only taken the train a handful of times, but you know there's a transit right around this time that drops you off near your house. If you can just make it to the station, you might just be able to get home. 

${bfname} taps your shoulder, gesturing behind you. You turn as you run, dodging a group of eager tourists. One of the hooded figures is shoving aside civilians in a desperate attempt to close the distance between you, while the other is beginning to fall behind, getting drowned into the large downtown crowd.

[i]Where is the third one?[/i] you wonder. [i]There were three hunters still on our tail.[/i]

That worrying thought soon flees your mind when you spot the Valley Metro Rail sign. As you approach the stairs leading into the tunneling building, you risk one more glance behind you.

A deep sense of dread overtakes you; somehow, the sight of no hunters fills you with more fear than the sight of a hundred ever could.
*page_break
Boarding the transit was the easy part.

Staying still for an uninterrupted fifteen minutes with the threat of two hunters is the hard part. ${bfname} fidgets beside you, a chasm of nerves that match your own. $!{bfhe} looks out the window, ${bfhis} face obscured by the flashing lights of the moving city scenery. You look behind you for what must be the hundredth time, but see the same people; an elderly woman cradling a bag of groceries, a handsome business-type speaking into his headset, and a blind woman with her guide dog, a large golden retriever. 

You begin to doubt yourself as the hum of the rail's friction cancels out all sound. Maybe you had overreacted. The hunters could have given up by now, and you'd only be sending both you and ${bfname} on a wild chase throughout the city. Maybe you don't even have to--

That train of thought is quickly put to rest when you spot two of the hunters on the other cart. Through the tiny window between you and them, you see them look around, their bodies tense with anticipation.

Without pause, you grab ${bfname}'s arm. "Get up slowly, and follow me."
*page_break As soon as the words leave your mouth, the hunter turns around.
You're running from one car to the next, fighting against the pull of the train. The overhead system is rambling about departure times, but through the static, you hear the words, [i]"Next stop, Rosewood Station."[/i]

You stop abruptly when your feet slide out from under you, the train car pulling leaning forward with a sudden [i]jolt[/i]. You land on your back, sliding downward until your feet slam against the back of the exit door.

"What the hell?" a woman exclaims, pulling out her phone, the flash turning on instantly. 

"${name}!" ${bfname} exclaims. You look up, and see ${bfhim} already making ${bfhis} way up a rail-thin later snaking up the wall of the train's cabin. "This way!"

You push yourself up just in time to glance back and see the hunters stalking through the crowd. [i]No,[/i] you think. [i]I need more time. The hunters are only one train car away.[/i] 

With no other option in sight, and the hunters showing no signs of slowing down, you begin scurrying up the latter.
*page_break Despite the blazing heat, the wind nearly knocks you off the roof.
This is what someone crawling atop the roof of a moving train should expect.

"Do you see them?" ${bfname} calls out, shielding ${bfhis} eyes from the furious wind. 

You look back and see no sign of the hatch you had just crawled through being tampered with. You and ${bfname} continue making your slow, careful way toward the front of the train, the smoke your only guide. Your arms and legs shake with every movement, whether from fear, exhaustion, or both, you can't tell. It is only when your hand nearly slips from its position do you hear a loud clank.

You turn with wide eyes and see the top of a hooded head. That is the only incentive you need to scurry to your feet. You hear ${bfname}'s unsure footsteps behind you as you make your way across the slick roof.

"They're coming!" ${bfname} screams against the wind. "What do we do?"

With your mind racing, you examine your surroundings. You are just as trapped on the roof as you were inside the train, but at least now you have options. Fast approaching is a bridge with a tangle of vines dangling off its edge; the bridge is adjacent to a street you don't recognize, but it must lead to Rosewood. Just past that lies a discarded pile of debris, the sharp edges of metal glinting back at you. You risk a glance backward, and see the hunter's struggling to make their way toward you.

You...
*choice
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #[i]conceal[/i] ${bfname} and I long enough to descend onto the bridge, confusing the hunters.
        *set Essence_Tolerance -25
        A lambent of ${magicolor} tendrils swirl through the air, the matter forming a thin, suffocating layer around you and ${bfname}. You stop long enough to close your eyes and gather your focus. The amount of focus to maintain the spell alone is enough to send a sharp pain to the back of your head.

        [i]"Peribit,"[/i] you recite. [i]"Peribit!"[/i]

        You cautiously peek through one eye and look down at your body. Your very flesh, along with ${bfname}'s, is nearly transparent, practically glimmering through the air.

        "Oh, God." ${bfname} says beside you, frantically looking over every limb, disbelief in ${bfhis} eyes. "We're jellyfish!"

        You turn around and watch in rapt attention as the hunters come to a halt atop the roof, looking around for any evidence of you two. You don't waste time before you turn to run. You have to focus heavily on staying invisible, and it's a strain on your body and mind. 

        The bridge is almost before you. 
        
        "Jump on three, and don't let go!" you explain to ${bfname}. "One..."
        
        You glance back in anticipation and see two hunters moving in the opposite direction, toward the entrance to the roof.
        
        "Two..."
        
        You feel a tingling sensation through your arms, and glance down to see your limbs reappearing and disappearing before your very eyes, evidence of your spell wavering; you're running out of time. 
        
        "Three!"
        *page_break
        *goto forest
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #[i]grow[/i] out the vines snaking up the wall, hopefully ensnaring the hunters.
        *set Essence_tolerance -25
        A lambent of ${magicolor} tendrils swirl through the air, the matter forming a thin, suffocating layer through the dangling vines as you run past. You stop long enough to close your eyes and gather your focus, a sharp pain forming against your skull.

        [i]"Crea,"[/i] you recite. [i]"Crea!"[/i]

        You only catch a glimpse of the vines trembling before reaching out like long fingers toward the hunters. You immediately feel a loss of energy; the use of magic has physically sucked the life out of you, making you slower than before.

        "Holy..." ${bfname} pants beside you, eyes frantically blinking. The vines are like a blur of violence, snaking around the hunter's limbs with a deadly precision. One of the hunters attempts to run from its path, but in doing so he knocks his comrades down. They fall onto a pile atop the roof, and the vines take no mercy on them. The hunters writhe and fight, but the more they struggle, the tighter the vines snake around them, leaving them immobile and even more tangled.

        "We need to get back into the train before the next stop," you announce to ${bfname}. "Come on!"
        
        With a deep sense of satisfaction and one last glance at your handiwork, you rush past the tangle of hunters, feet slapping against the rooftop.
        *page_break
        *goto forest
    *selectable_if (Warrior = "1") #Use the discarded scrap metal as weapons.
        *set Stamina -25
        "Come on!" you tell ${bfname}, making your way toward the debris pile.

        You grab the first item your hands come into contact with; a chrome pipe rusting into a sharp tip. [i]Perfect[/i] you think. Beside you, ${bfname} is staring down at a large, jagged piece of wood, eyebrows furrowed.
        
        The first hunter to rush you is all rage and no technique; he tries to swipe at your feet, but you jump up before the impact, then regain hold of the chrome pipe. He's pushing back with fierce determination, trying to pull the weapon away from you. You hear ${bfname}'s grunt as he drives the second hunter further away, almost directly in front of where you stand, dangerously close to the edge of the train. You glance to your side and see ${bfname} wildly swinging around ${bfhis} weapon, eyes squeezed shut.
        
        [i]Of course,[/i] you realize.
        
        With a quick breath, you let go of the pipe, pushing against the hunter with all your strength.
        
        You watch as the first hunter's face contorts into pure shock, his feet slipping out from under him and hurls him right into the path of the second hunter. Both unprepared for the sudden impact, then collide, sliding across the slick surface...
        
        And the edge of the roof. You take a moment to watch as they struggle to stay atop the roof, hands unsteady gripping the railings.
        
        "We need to get back into the train before the next stop," you announce to ${bfname}. "Hurry!"
        
        With a deep sense of satisfaction and one last glance at your handiwork, you rush past the hanging hunters, feet slapping against the rooftop.
        *page_break 
        *goto forest
    *selectable_if (Warrior = "1") #Grab at the loose vines hanging off the bridge, fashioning them into ropes.
        *set Combat +5
        *set hunters "2"
        "Watch out!" you tell ${bfname}, reaching out both your arms.

        When the bridge approaches, you grab onto two long vines, wrapping them securely around your hands. You stop in your tracks, turning to face the oncoming hunters. The one to your left runs for you, faster than the other. You leap forward, tightening your grip on the vines, and whipping it against his face. The hunter reels back, an angry red welt of skin staring back at you. ${bfname} is on him within seconds, securing ${bfhis} own vines around the hunter's limbs.
        
        You pivot, fashioning the vines into a lasso and hurling them at the other hunter, watching it fall around his neck. Then, you pull, the vine cutting off circulation to the hunter's neck. You wait for a heartbeat, steady despite the hunter's flailing limbs and frantic movements. After a few seconds...he loses consciousness, his face beat red. 
        
        You drop the vines and run.

        "Holy..." ${bfname} breathes beside you, frantically blinking. "Is he dead?"

        "We need to get back into the train before the next stop," you announce to ${bfname}. "Hurry!"
        
        With a deep sense of satisfaction and one last glance at your handiwork, you rush past the hunters, feet slapping against the rooftop.
        *page_break 
        *goto forest
*label forest
It is night when you reach the outskirts of the forest path leading up the hill to your neighborhood. In your mind, the journey had seemed short, but now, as you gaze up at the moonlit path, you curse Aunt Alice for choosing a home in such a secluded neighborhood.

As you begin to walk through the dense forest in the now chilly night air, you can't help but cringe at every sound you make. Even the [i]crunch[/i] of your feet atop the greenery sounds like miniature bombs going off.

${bfname} is silent beside you, not having said a word since the altercation with the hunters. $!{bfhe} seems more contemplative than shocked, angry, or exhausted. You wonder how you look.

A sound neither of you made brings you back into the present moment.

"What was that?" ${bfname} asks, quickly turning around.

You turn as well, and as you do, you see a squirrel drop down onto the path, an acorn pressed against its chubby cheeks.

${bfname} lets out a sigh of relief. "For a second there, I thought that was--"
*page_break ${bfname} is cut short by a dagger at ${bfhis} throat. 
"Me?" the third hunter says.

Her hood covers the top of her head and casts a devious shadow over half her face, but you can still make out a sinister smile.

"Now, I see this situation playing out in two ways," the hunter continues, amusement in her voice. "One, you come with me, and I let your little friend go. Or, two, you try to play hero, and I kill you both. Take your pick, either works for me."

${bfname} makes glares at you, ${bfhis} eyes wide and distraught; the picture of silent terror.

"Tick tock," the hunter says, sighing. "Not much can stop the edge of a blade from sinking into flesh."

To demonstrate, the hunter presses her blade into ${bfname}'s neck, drawing a thick line of blood. To ${bfname}'s credit, ${bfhe} doesn't flinch, only tightly closing ${bfhis} eyes.

With adrenaline pumping through you and danger hanging in the air, you...
*fake_choice
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #Try to summon enough magic to knock the dagger out of the hunter's hand.
        You feel the power answering to your call, like a rush of frantic energy, responding to your desperation...

        It was a good idea. A truly great idea, and it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you prepare yourself to attack. But then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending2
    #Try to distract the hunter long enough to allow ${bfname} to escape.
        You feel the beginnings of an excuse forming in your mind, on the tip of your tongue...

        It was a good idea. A truly great idea, and it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you prepare yourself to attack. But then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending2
    #Pounce at the hunter, hopefully, quick enough to snatch her weapon.
        You feel the tension of your muscles build up, readying for the moment when you'd jump out and lunge out at the hunter...

        It was a good idea. A truly great idea, and it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you prepare yourself to attack. But then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending2
    #Agree to the hunter's terms, so long as she lets ${bfname} go.
        You swallow away the knot in your throat, beginning to stand up. This fight is between the two of you; it has nothing to do with ${bfname}. You open your mouth to speak...

        It was a noble idea. And it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you prepare yourself to attack. But then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending2
    #Decide to make a break for it, leaving ${bfname} behind.
        You swallow away the knot in your throat, beginning to stand up.  ${bfname} should have never gotten involved in this, but it's not your problem. You're the one they're after. You open your mouth to speak...

        It was a good idea. And it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you prepare yourself to attack. But then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending2
*label ending2
This is evident when you finally slow your pace. You ran for Gods knows how long, desperate to escape the endless forest. You stand alone on your front lawn, just a few feet from your front door.

And then, you fall. Exhaustion has crept upon you, slowly sinking its claws into your will. You feel your weary muscles calling out for rest, begging for a moment of peace. Even your bones seem to ache, trembling with wariness.

The sky looks like a hazardous thing tonight.

You realize that although it is pitch black, the only light coming from flickering streetlamps, you see things far more clearly than you did a few hours ago.

You aren't sure whether that's a loss or a gain.

[i]And ${bfname}...[/i] your thoughts scream at you.
*choice
    #I shouldn't have run. I should have stayed at fought. I could have saved ${bfhim}.
        You recall ${bfname}'s terrified gaze as ${bfhe} begged you to run, to escape from the hunter and her bloody dagger. But what would have happened if you'd stayed? If you'd have stood your ground and fought her together? Could you both have run out of that maze alive?

        And what will you tell people...tell ${bfhis} parents when their child doesn't come home?

        Aunt Alice's face flashes in your mind, and you feel yourself longing for her wisdom, for her comforting voice. She'll know what to do. She'll tell you how to fix this.

        A monster tugs at your chest, feeding off your guilt. 
        
        But still, you pick yourself slowly off the floor, your resilience remarkably intact. When you step onto your front porch, the warm amber light washes over you. From where you stand, you can just barely see through the large bay windows, covered by thick, white curtains.
        
        You slowly raise your hand and knock.
        *page_break The door swings open.
        *goto imnot
    #What's done is done; we both would have died if I'd have stayed in that maze.
        You recall ${bfname}'s terrified gaze as ${bfhe} begged you to run, to escape from the hunter and her bloody dagger. If you'd have stayed despite the pleading, you'd both be dead right now. It would have ended with both your blood spilled on the soft earth.

        But what will you tell people...tell ${bfhis} parents when their child doesn't come home?

        Aunt Alice's face flashes in your mind, and you feel yourself longing for her wisdom, for her comforting voice. She'll know what to do. She'll tell you how to fix this.

        A monster tugs at your chest, feeding off your nerves.
        
        But still, you pick yourself slowly off the floor, your resilience remarkably intact. When you step onto your front porch, the warm amber light washes over you. From where you stand, you can just barely see through the large bay windows, covered by thick, white curtains.
        
        You slowly raise your hand and knock.
        *page_break The door swings open.
        *goto imnot
    #It's not my fault; ${bfhis} own recklessness led to this. It's [i]not[/i] my fault.
        You recall ${bfname}'s terrified gaze as ${bfhe} begged you to run, to escape from the hunter and her bloody dagger. Why did ${bfhe} have to choose that moment to act, to ruin everything? It didn't have to end like this, but you are not to blame.

        But what will you tell people...tell ${bfhis} parents when their child doesn't come home?

        Aunt Alice's face flashes in your mind, and you feel yourself longing for her wisdom, for her comforting voice. She'll know what to do. She'll tell you how to fix this.

        A monster tugs at your chest, feeding off your anger.
        
        But still, you pick yourself slowly off the floor, your resilience remarkably intact. When you step onto your front porch, the warm amber light washes over you. From where you stand, you can just barely see through the large bay windows, covered by thick, white curtains.
        
        You slowly raise your hand and knock.
        *page_break The door swings open.
        *goto imnot
    #I couldn't care less. I can't do anything to change it, and I'd be an idiot to go back.
        You recall ${bfname}'s terrified gaze as ${bfhe} begged you to run, to escape from the hunter and her bloody dagger. But what would have happened if you'd stayed? You'd both be dead by now, no doubt. Your blood would have been spilled on the soft earth, your voices silence by the hunter's blade. What's done is done.

        But what will you tell people...tell ${bfhis} parents when their child doesn't come home?

        Aunt Alice's face flashes in your mind, and you feel yourself longing for her wisdom, for her comforting voice. She'll know what to do. She'll tell you how to fix this.

        A monster tugs at your chest, feeding off the numbness in your heart.
        
        But still, you pick yourself slowly off the floor, your resilience remarkably intact. When you step onto your front porch, the warm amber light washes over you. From where you stand, you can just barely see through the large bay windows, covered by thick, white curtains.
        
        You slowly raise your hand and knock.
        *page_break The door swings open.
        *goto imnot
*temp hunters "3"
*label Ridell&Berk
You run for a few heart-pumping minutes before you see the first cluster of tourists. They are definable by the maps clenched in their fists, and the souvenir merchandise on their persons. Opposite of them, the locals blend in easily, their steps assured, their clothes trendy and far too expensive, not a crisp or fold out of place.

${bfname} trips on the sidewalk beside you, and you reach out to steady ${bfhim}. $!{bfhe} looks up to smile at you in gratitude, and you slow your pace to a fast walk. You glance behind you, and sure enough, three black-clad figure emerges from behind a corner. Their movements are undeterred and swift, the determination in their eyes indomitable.

[i]Hunters,[/i] you think bitterly. [i]They're hunting me.[/i]

You're walking between beautiful cherry blossoms, fast approaching an open garden. There are pots of plants and endless rows of flora flanking either side of the clear-glass walls, with overreaching, sweeping canopies acting as a ceiling. The famous Garden of Eden spreads two miles in front of you, ending just before another street bleeds into a large pavilion.
*page_break
The prominent scent manure and flora overtakes your sense of smell as you sprint through the garden.

A man nearly crashes into you, dozens of pots of yet-to-sprout plants stacked atop one another onto a large cart. You use the distraction of his clanking cart to glance behind you; the first hunter has just entered the garden, followed closely behind by another, their footsteps swift. [i]Where is the third one?[/i] you wonder frantically.

"What's the plan?" ${bfname} pants beside you, feet slamming against the cobblestone.

You hear a crash behind you and turn slightly; one of the hunters has just pushed past a pot display, sending the porcelain crashing onto the ground. You turn back just in time to avoid slamming into an elderly woman staring intensely at a cactus.

*if Magician = "1"
    In front of you are tall racks of roses, displayed in a brick-like pattern. To the left of you are a series of vines that snake up the opposite wall.

    You have only had the time and patience to master with Aunt Alice's help to master three animation spells; to levitate, to conceal, and to grow.
*if Warrior = "1"
    In front of you are tall racks of roses, displayed behind sharp ended white picket fences. To the left of you are a series of vines that snake up the opposite wall.
You...
*choice
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #[i]levitate[/i] the racks of roses as I pass them, hoping they'll block the hunters' paths.
        *set Essence +5
        *set hunters "2"
        A lambent of ${magicolor} tendrils swirl through the air, the matter forming a thin, suffocating layer around the rack. You turn on your heel, stopping a split second to recite the spell and gather your focus, holding out your hands. The amount of focus to maintain alone is enough to send a sharp pain to the back of your head.

        [i]"Autem,"[/i] you recite. [i]"Autem!"[/i]

        You only catch a glimpse of the rack shaking, tilting, then crashing to the ground with a loud [i]CLANG![/i] that rings throughout the garden. You turn on your heel, hearing the sound of frustrated yells, and continue to run through the garden. You immediately feel a loss of energy, as if the use of magic has physically sucked the life out of you, making you slower than before.

        "That was amazing!" ${bfname} says beside you, frantically glancing back at the mess you created. "One of them is down, I think they stepped on the sharp discards. The other one is still coming for us, though, and...I still can't find the third one, but I [i]know[/i] there were three on our tail!"

        "Let's focus on the other one, ${bfname}," you say. You see a miniature maze straight ahead, the lights slightly dimmer in that area of the garden. "Let's head in in there," you say.

        You glance back and you push on, your feet slapping against the now soft earth. One lone hunter still pursues you, somehow faster than before.
        *page_break The inside of the hedge maze is scorching.
        *goto garden2a
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #[i]levitate[/i] the racks of roses as I pass them, then send them crashing into the hunters' paths.
        *set Essence +5
        *set hunters "2"
        A lambent of ${magicolor} tendrils swirl through the air, the matter forming a thin, suffocating layer around the rack. You turn on your heel, stopping a split second to recite the spell and gather your focus, holding out your hands. The amount of focus to maintain alone is enough to send a sharp pain to the back of your head.

        [i]"Autem,"[/i] you recite. [i]"Autem!"[/i]

        You only catch a glimpse of the rack shaking, tilting before crashing to the ground with a loud [i]CLANG![/i] that rings throughout the garden. You lower your arms, then wait for the dust to clear before moving forward. You feel a loss of energy as if the use of magic has physically sucked the life out of you, making you slower than before.

        "That was crazy!" ${bfname} says beside you, trying to catch ${bfhis} breath. "Now what?"

        "We take them out, ${bfname}," you declare. Just as the words leave your mouth, a hunter emerges from the dust, their hood covered in grime. He has a feral expression, and you note the long scar running down the left side of his face, his skin a sickly white contrasting it.

        "[i]You,[/i]" the hunter seethes, making his slow descent upon you. The people in the garden had scattered after the crash, but now eagerly watch the confrontation, no doubt mistaking it for one of the many street shows littered throughout downtown.

        You hear a mawkish gasp spread throughout the crowd as the hunter takes out a steel, glinting blade.
        *page_break You ball your hands into a fist, readying your stance.
        *goto garden2b
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #[i]conceal[/i] ${bfname} and I long enough to lose the hunters, throwing them off our tail.
        *set Essence +5
        *set hunters "3"
        A lambent of ${magicolor} tendrils swirl through the air, the matter forming a thin, suffocating layer around you and ${bfname}. You stop long enough to close your eyes and gather your focus. The amount of focus to maintain the spell alone is enough to send a sharp pain to the back of your head.

        [i]"Peribit,"[/i] you recite. [i]"Peribit!"[/i]

        You cautiously peek through one eye and look down at your body. Your very flesh, along with ${bfname}'s, is nearly transparent, practically glimmering through the air.

        "Oh, God." ${bfname} says beside you, frantically looking over every limb, disbelief in ${bfhis} eyes. "We're jellyfish!"

        You watch in rapt attention as the hunters come to a halt in the middle of the garden, standing before the rack of roses. You don't waste time before you turn to run. You have to focus heavily on staying invisible, and it's a strain on your body and mind. Even now, you can see your spell wavering, some limbs appearing and disappearing at random.

        It's only after a few moments of running that your will gives out, exhausted from the strain of using such high potency magic in a short amount of time.

        You nearly collapse onto the floor from effort before ${bfname} lifts—well, drags—you by the arm. "Come on, ${name}!" ${bfhe} urges you. "We'll head into the maze and try to lose them!"

        You wearily glance back and try to push on, your feet slapping against the now soft earth. Both hunters still pursue you, somehow faster than before.
        *page_break The inside of the hedge maze is scorching.
        *goto garden2a
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #[i]grow[/i] out the vines snaking up the wall, hopefully ensnaring the hunters long enough to slip away.
        *set Essence +5
        *set hunters "2"
        A lambent of ${magicolor} tendrils swirl through the air, the matter forming a thin, suffocating layer through the dangling vines as you run past. You stop long enough to close your eyes and gather your focus, the sharp pain forming in your head.

        [i]"Crea,"[/i] you recite. [i]"Crea!"[/i]

        You only catch a glimpse of the vines trembling and lengthening before reaching out like long fingers. You lower your arms, then wait for the dust to clear before moving forward. You immediately feel a loss of energy, as if the use of magic has physically sucked the life out of you, making you slower than before.

        "That was amazing!" ${bfname} says beside you, frantically glancing back. "One of them is down, I think he moved around too much and the vines trapped him. The other one is still coming for us, though, and...I still can't find the third one, but I [i]know[/i] there were three on our tail."

        "Let's focus on the other one then, ${bfname}," you say, panting. You see a miniature maze straight ahead, the lights slightly dimmer in that area of the garden. "Let's head in in there," you say.

        You glance back and you push on, your feet slapping against the now soft earth. One lone hunter still pursues you, somehow faster than before without their comrade.
        *page_break The inside of the hedge maze is scorching.
        *goto garden2a
    *selectable_if (Warrior = "1") #reach out knock the shelf over, blocking the hunter's path long enough to slip away.
        *set Combat +5
        *set hunters "2"
        "Watch out!" you tell ${bfname}, reaching out both your arms.

        You push forward with as much force as you can muster, feeling the resistance of the weight against your muscles. But you're far too strong to give up. With one final shove, the entire shelf comes knocking down. You watch as the shelf knocks into the one behind it, and the one behind that...until the last shelf crashes right before the hunters.

        Then, you run.

        "That was amazing!" ${bfname} says beside you, frantically glancing back. "One of them is down, I think he moved around too much and the vines trapped him. The other one is still coming for us, though, and...I still can't find the third one, but I [i]know[/i] there were three on our tail."

        "Let's focus on the other one then, ${bfname}," you say, panting. You see a miniature maze straight ahead, the lights slightly dimmer in that area of the garden. "Let's head in in there," you say.

        You glance back and you push on, your feet slapping against the now soft earth. One lone hunter still pursues you, somehow faster than before without their comrade.
        *page_break The inside of the hedge maze is scorching.
        *goto garden2a
    *selectable_if (Warrior = "1") #grab at the loose vines, fashioning them into ropes.
        *set Combat +5
        *set hunters "2"
        "Watch out!" you tell ${bfname}, reaching out both your arms.

        You pull out two long vines, wrapping them securely around your hands. You stop in your tracks, turning to face the oncoming hunters. The one to your left runs for you, faster the other. You leap forward, tightening your grip on the vines, and whipping it against his face. The hunter reels back, an angry red welt of skin staring back at you. You pivot, fashioning the vines into a lasso and hurling it at the other hunter, watching it fall around his neck.

        Then, you pull, the vine cutting off circulation to the hunter's neck. You drop the vines and run.

        "That was amazing!" ${bfname} says beside you, frantically glancing back. "One of them is down, I think he moved around too much and the vines trapped him. The other one is still coming for us, though, and...I still can't find the third one, but I [i]know[/i] there were three on our tail."

        "Let's focus on the other one then, ${bfname}," you say, panting. You see a miniature maze straight ahead, the lights slightly dimmer in that area of the garden. "Let's head in in there," you say.

        You glance back and you push on, your feet slapping against the now soft earth. One lone hunter still pursues you, somehow faster than before without their comrade.
        *page_break The inside of the hedge maze is scorching.
        *goto garden2a
*label garden2a
You feel the heat like a suffocating hand against your face. You vaguely remember reading about the heat of the maze being used to preserve some strange exotic plant that resided scorching temperatures.

The maze walls are made of an intricate pattern of vines and brittle leaves, woven together against hard concrete. They flank you on either side, often branching off into small alcoves.

${bfname} follows as you make a sharp...
*fake_choice
    #Right, following a path of roses.
        You sneak a glance behind you as you turn right, noting the lack of hunters trailing you. Then, you stop dead in your tracks, causing ${bfname} to crash into your back.

        Before you stands the missing third hunter, without either of her comrades, a dagger in her hand.

        "Crap," ${bfname} mutters behind you.

        In a split second the hunter is pouncing toward the two of you. You push ${bfname} out of the way, sidestepping just in time for the hunter's hard body to slam you to the ground. The girl on atop of you, her hands pushing down your shoulders. You struggle, until you finally gather up enough strength to roll to your side and lift up your arm, effectively pushing her off you.

        The hunter lands with a crouch, and you watch in horror as ${bfname} sneaks up behind her, a stray piece of wood poised above ${bfhis} head.

        The hunter follows your eyes and jumps up just before the wood slams against her temple.

        And before you know it, she stands above you, a dagger pointed against the exposed skin of ${bfname}'s throat.

        She smiles.
        *page_break "What an interesting turn of events," she coos.
    #Left, following a path of cherry blossoms.
        You sneak a glance behind you as you turn right, noting the lack of hunters trailing you. Then, you stop dead in your tracks, causing ${bfname} to crash into your back.

        Before you stands the missing third hunter, without either of her comrades, a dagger in her hand.

        "Crap," ${bfname} mutters behind you.

        In a split second the hunter is pouncing toward the two of you. You push ${bfname} out of the way, sidestepping just in time for the hunter's hard body to slam you to the ground. The girl on atop of you, her hands pushing down your shoulders. You struggle until you finally gather up enough strength to roll to your side and lift up your arm, effectively pushing her off you.

        The hunter lands with a crouch, and you watch in horror as ${bfname} sneaks up behind her, a stray piece of wood poised above ${bfhis} head.

        The hunter follows your eyes and jumps up just before the wood slams against her temple.

        And before you know it, she stands above you, a dagger pointed against the exposed skin of ${bfname}'s throat.

        She smiles.
        *page_break "What an interesting turn of events," she coos.
${bfname} struggles under the hunter's tight hold, but to little avail.

"Now, I see this situation playing out in two ways," the hunter continues, amusement in her voice. "One, you come with me, and I let your little friend go. Or, two, you try to play hero, and I kill you both. Take your pick, either works for me."

${bfname} makes glares at you, ${bfhis} eyes wide and distraught; the picture of silent terror.

"Tick tock," the hunter says, sighing. "Not much can stop the edge of a blade from sinking into flesh."

To demonstrate, the hunter presses her blade into ${bfname}'s neck, drawing a thick line of blood. To ${bfname}'s credit, ${bfhe} doesn't flinch, only tightly closing ${bfhis} eyes.

With adrenaline pumping through you and danger hanging in the air, you...
*fake_choice
    *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #Try to summon enough magic to knock the dagger out of the hunter's.
        You feel the power answering to your call, like a rush of frantic energy, responding to your desperation...

        It was a good idea. A truly great idea, and it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you shoot up from the ground, ready to attack. And then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel and sprint out of the maze is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending
    #Try to distract the hunter long enough to allow ${bfname} to escape.
        You feel the beginnings of an excuse forming in your mind, on the tip of your tongue...

        It was a good idea. A truly great idea, and it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you shoot up from the ground, ready to attack. And then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel and sprint out of the maze is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending
    #Pounce at the hunter, hopefully, quick enough to snatch her weapon.
        You feel the tension of your muscles build up, readying for the moment when you'd jump out and lunge out at the hunter...

        It was a good idea. A truly great idea, and it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you shoot up from the ground, ready to attack. And then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel and sprint out of the maze is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending
    #Agree to the hunter's terms, so long as she lets ${bfname} go.
        You swallow away the knot in your throat, beginning to stand up. This fight is between the two of you; it has nothing to do with ${bfname}. You open your mouth to speak...

        It was a noble idea. And it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you shoot up from the ground, ready to attack. And then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel and sprint out of the maze is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending
    #Decide to make a break for it, leaving ${bfname} behind.
        You swallow away the knot in your throat, beginning to stand up.  ${bfname} should have never gotten involved in this, but it's not your problem. You're the one they're after. You open your mouth to speak...

        It was a good idea. And it might have even worked if ${bfname} hadn't chosen to bite down on the hunter's hand at that exact moment.

        The hunter jumps at the sudden movement, not letting go of her grip on her dagger or ${bfname}'s shoulder, but loosening it enough to allow ${bfname} to slam ${bfhis} elbow into her stomach.

        The hunter crouches, screaming out, and you shoot up from the ground, ready to attack. And then the hunter reaches out and pulls at ${bfname}'s leg, and ${bfhe} falls to the floor beside her. The hunter reaches for her knife, crouching over ${bfname}.

        "Wrong move," she hisses. "And to think I was going to let you go!"

        They struggle, a tangle of flailing arms and legs, and you take a step forward, ready to intervene when ${bfname} calls out.

        "Run!" ${bfhe} screams. "Run, ${name}!"

        ...and the last thing you see before you turn on your heel and sprint out of the maze is the hunter raising the dagger above ${bfname}'s throat, ready to strike.
        *page_break Time is an unfathomable thing.
        *goto ending

*label garden2b
You feel a bead of sweat run down the side of your face.

You see the flash of a camera in your peripheral vision, a tourist taking a snap for their social media feed, no doubt.

The hunter, though, has eyes only for you.

Then he pounces, quick as the wind.
*if Magician = "1"
    There's no time to cast a spell.
*fake_choice
    #I run, of course.
        The crowd jumps back as you push through them, their shrieks of excitement echoing against the vast space. You don't turn to look back, but soon enough you see someone to your left, running alongside you; ${bfname}.

        "That was your plan!?" ${bfhe} screams. "Thanks for the heads up."

        Some of the crowd still follows you, phones poised before their faces, flashes nearly blinding. The hunter follows you as well, pushing bystanders to the ground in a desperate attempt to reach you, but soon becomes enveloped in the mass of bodies.

        Then, you feel a tug on your sleeve, and ${bfname} pointing to a small corridor. The lighting is dimmer there, and you read the sign overhead; MAZE.
        *page_break The inside of the hedge maze is scorching.
        *goto garden2a
    #I brace my arms before me, ready to block the impact.
        The hunter slams into you with jarring force, attempting to push you down onto the ground. You reel back from the blunt impact, but only a few feet. The hunter raises an arm, slashing down at you, and you just barely move out of the way.

        The crowd pushes in closer now, and you hear a boy speak of how many hits he'll get on this video.

        You roll your eyes, then shove the hunter off you, knocking him into the path of the bystander. The girl screams, pushing the hunter back into your direction.

        "${name}!" ${bfname} screams, pulling on your sleeve. The crowd jumps back as you both shove through the hoard, the flash of their phones blinding. "That was your plan!?"

        You see a miniature maze straight ahead, the lights slightly dimmer in that area of the garden. "Let's head in there," you say.

        You glance back and you push on, your feet slapping against the now soft earth. The hunter shoves people to the ground in a desperate attempt to catch up with you. But soon, becomes enveloped in the mass of bodies.
        *page_break The inside of the hedge maze is scorching.
        *goto garden2a

*label ending
This is evident when you finally slow your pace. You ran for Gods knows how long, desperate to escape the suffocating heat of the maze. You stand alone on a deserted street in a quiet part of the city.

And then, you fall. Exhaustion has crept upon you, slowly sinking its claws into your will. You feel your weary muscles calling out for rest, begging for a moment of peace. Even your bones seem to ache, trembling with weariness.

The sky looks like a hazardous thing tonight.

You realize that although it is pitch black, the only light coming from flickering streetlamps, you see things far more clearly than you did a few hours ago.

You aren't sure whether that's a loss or a gain.

[i]And ${bfname}...[/i] your thoughts scream at you.
*choice
    #I shouldn't have run. I should have stayed at fought. I could have saved ${bfhim}.
        You recall ${bfname}'s terrified gaze as ${bfhe} begged you to run, to escape from the hunter and her bloody dagger. But what would have happened if you'd stayed? If you'd have stood your ground and fought her together? Could you both have run out of that maze alive?

        And what will you tell people...tell ${bfhis} parents when their child doesn't come home?

        Aunt Alice's face flashes in your mind, and you feel yourself longing for her wisdom, for her comforting voice. She'll know what to do. She'll tell you how to fix this.

        A monster tugs at your chest, feeding off your guilt.
        *page_break Picking yourself slowly off the floor, you begin to walk home.
        *goto imnot
    #What's done is done; we both would have died if I'd have stayed in that maze.
        You recall ${bfname}'s terrified gaze as ${bfhe} begged you to run, to escape from the hunter and her bloody dagger. If you'd have stayed despite the pleading, you'd both be dead right now. It would have ended with both your blood spilled on the soft earth.

        But what will you tell people...tell ${bfhis} parents when their child doesn't come home?

        Aunt Alice's face flashes in your mind, and you feel yourself longing for her wisdom, for her comforting voice. She'll know what to do. She'll tell you how to fix this.

        A monster tugs at your chest, feeding off your nerves.
        *page_break Picking yourself slowly off the floor, you begin to walk home.
        *goto imnot
    #It's not my fault; ${bfhis} own recklessness led to this. It's [i]not[/i] my fault.
        You recall ${bfname}'s terrified gaze as ${bfhe} begged you to run, to escape from the hunter and her bloody dagger. Why did ${bfhe} have to choose that moment to act, to ruin everything? It didn't have to end like this, but you are not to blame.

        But what will you tell people...tell ${bfhis} parents when their child doesn't come home?

        Aunt Alice's face flashes in your mind, and you feel yourself longing for her wisdom, for her comforting voice. She'll know what to do. She'll tell you how to fix this.

        A monster tugs at your chest, feeding off your anger.
        *page_break Picking yourself slowly off the floor, you begin to walk home.
        *goto imnot
    #I couldn't care less. I can't do anything to change it, and I'd be an idiot to go back.
        You recall ${bfname}'s terrified gaze as ${bfhe} begged you to run, to escape from the hunter and her bloody dagger. But what would have happened if you'd stayed? You'd both be dead by now, no doubt. Your blood would have been spilled on the soft earth, your voices silence by the hunter's blade. What's done is done.

        But what will you tell people...tell ${bfhis} parents when their child doesn't come home?

        Aunt Alice's face flashes in your mind, and you feel yourself longing for her wisdom, for her comforting voice. She'll know what to do. She'll tell you how to fix this.

        A monster tugs at your chest, feeding off the numbness in your heart.
        *page_break Picking yourself slowly off the floor, you begin to walk home.
        *goto imnot
*label imnot
*set Essence_Tolerance 100
It's a week after the confrontation with the hunters. You had come home wounded and bruised, and Aunt Alice had swiftly driven you to the emergency room. After answering a series of questions for the police that you knew would prove a waste of time, Aunt Alice had her own line of third-degree questioning. Throughout your childhood, you had seen the lengths in which your Aunt would go to ensure your safety, even if those lengths bordered on the extreme, but never before had you seen her so...[i]paranoid[/i].

Every time you left the house, she was by your side, no more than a few feet away. She drove you to school and picked you up from practices, always an hour early in regards to the latter. She even went as far as to put a tracking device in your phone, and if you had to guess, in some of your other personal possessions as well.

MISSING PERSON posters are all over town, ${bfname}'s smiling face front and center. You recognize that picture from the Preston yearbook. You also know that ${bfname} hated that picture, complaining that ${bfhis} hair looked like it was trying to devour ${bfhim}.

Mr. and Mrs. Mays, ${bfname}'s parents, had been in the room with you and Aunt Alice when you gave your statement to the police; as far as anyone was concerned, you escaped a kidnapping attempt due to ${bfname}'s bravery. 

It was, more of less, the truth. 
*page_break
But the incident with the hunters was months ago, and Aunt Alice hasn't loosened her iron grip. Now it's nearly summer, and you sit at the island of your kitchen, picking at your dinner. Aunt Alice is staring at her laptop screen, no doubt reviewing your activities from yesterday.

"I thought we agreed you would go straight to practice from your last class," she says. "You went to the 7-Eleven across the street instead. Seven minutes is more than enough time for someone to kidnap you, ${name}."

You set down your fork, turning to her.
*fake_choice
    #I'm comforted by her precautions, as extensive as they are. I'm even more grateful that she actually [i]believes[/i] me.
        You take comfort in the fact that you have someone to watch you all hours of the day, making sure you were safe at any cost. Sure, you have even less freedom than before, but safety had a price.

        "You're right," you say. "It's my bad; I skipped lunch that day."

        Aunt Alice frowns. "I could start packing you lunch; the food at that store is a death wish, anyway. Maybe some healthier alternatives! There's this great recipe for I've wanted to try; fresh, ripe picked tomatoes with the most delicious zucchini..."

        And on she went.

        The sun lazily makes its way under the horizon, bidding you farewell. You see a flock of birds through the large window in the den, the blinds having been pushed aside to let in some fresh air. The click-clack of Aunt Alice's keyboard is audible over the soft hum of Pachelbel's Canon, her favorite classical piece.

        When you finally turn your attention back to Aunt Alice, you catch her staring intently at you, an oddly regretful expression on her face.

        "What?" you ask.

        She blinks, shaking her head. "Nothing, my love. Nothing at all."
    #Her precautions have made me even [i]more[/i] paranoid, if possible. Everything she does makes me feel like I'm in more danger than I'm aware of.
        You can barely walk across the street without fearing a hunter will swoop down from the rooftop. You know safety has a price, but you never thought it'd be your sanity.

        "I wouldn't have, but I was starving," you say. "I thought my stomach was going to start a rebellion."

        Aunt Alice frowns. "I could start packing your lunch again; the food at that store is a death wish, anyway. Maybe some healthier alternatives! There's this great recipe for I've wanted to try; fresh, ripe picked tomatoes with the most delicious zucchini..."

        And on she went.

        The sun lazily makes its way under the horizon, bidding you farewell. You see a flock of birds through the large window in the den, the blinds having been pushed aside to let in some fresh air. The click-clack of Aunt Alice's keyboard is audible over the soft hum of Pachelbel's Canon, her favorite classical piece.

        When you finally turn your attention back to Aunt Alice, you catch her staring intently at you, an oddly regretful expression on her face.

        "What?" you ask.

        She blinks, shaking her head. "Nothing, my love. Nothing at all."
    #I'm frustrated with her precautions. She's gone too far in her attempts to protect me; I feel more suffocated than protected.
        You can barely stand that you have someone to watch you all hours of the day, knowing your every move. You know safety has a price, but this is just ridiculous.

        "So I now can't even have a moment to get a snack?" you snap. "Should I check in with you every time I want to take a piss, too?"

        Aunt Alice frowns. "I don't appreciate that, ${name}. You should know more than I that your safety is a top priority. The fact that you can sit there and make light of it is highly discerning. Imagine if the cashier was a hunter in disguise wearing a cheap mustache and..."

        And on she went.

        The sun lazily makes its way under the horizon, bidding you farewell. You see a flock of birds through the large window in the den, the blinds having been pushed aside to let in some fresh air. The click-clack of Aunt Alice's keyboard is audible over the soft hum of Pachelbel's Canon, her favorite classical piece.

        When you finally turn your attention back to Aunt Alice, you catch her staring intently at you, an oddly regretful expression on her face.

        "What?" you ask.

        She blinks, shaking her head. "Nothing, my love. Nothing at all."
*page_break The next day, Aunt Alice is gone.
You had waited for her after school, shocked that you didn't see her car on the curb like always, blasting her favorite opera. You must have left her over a dozen voicemails and texts, each one more frantic than the last. Hesitantly, you walked home, keeping to crowded streets and well-lit areas.

As soon as you step into the house, you [i]know[/i] something is wrong. Aunt Alice is always here to greet you, and if she wasn't, there was a note telling you when she'd be back, next to a 'healthy, stimulating' plate of snacks.

She rarely leaves you alone, true to her extremely protective nature.

You check for a note. You check your phone for texts or voicemails or missed calls. You call her countless times, and still no answer. You stay up until three AM, hopeful that she'll come rushing through the door and tell you that the hunters are coming and you needed to leave with her, to go into hiding.

*page_break You wait two days.
No calls. No texts. No emails. No letters. No Aunt Alice.

You know in your heart that she's truly gone. There is no way in hell she would ever leave you like this, and there was no way that this is a mere coincidence. The hunters had taken her away from you, and you know that soon, they'll come for you too.

You are in your Aunt's room, rifling through her closet until you find her wallet, full of her cards and some crisp twenty dollar bills. You book a plane ticket. You pack up as few of your clothes and belongings as you can manage.

You don't call anyone. You don't say dare say goodbye. You just disappear into the night, leaving your old life behind just as quietly as you had entered it.
*page_break A loud whail of sirens breaks you out of your thoughts.
An ambulance blazes past your alleyway, and you force yourself to focus.
*choice
   #My best chance is to find a more populated area of the neighborhood. Once there I can lose them in the crowds. The cluster of mortals will confuse them, and hopefully, hide me.
      *goto hide1
  #To hell with hiding, I need to face them. Even if I manage to lose them, they'll just keep coming back for me...this may be the fight that ends it all.
      *goto nohide
*label nohide 
The anger that swells up inside you is too large for your body to contain, and at any moment, you fear that it'll start seeping out of you.

Exiting the alley, you walk through the crowd at a quick pace, carefully keeping the hunters that jump from rooftop to rooftop in your peripheral vision. You take a moment to marvel at how they move through the air like shadows, how they all move as one. It's always been terrifying and magnificent.

You quicken your pace and head toward a secluded part of the neighborhood. You ignore the churning of your stomach and the clamminess of your palms. While walking, you scan the area in front of you for weapons you can use. Up ahead, there's a broken piece of wood from one of the abandoned structures. Then, near that, there's a metal pipe leaning against an industrial building.

*fake_choice
   *selectable_if (saxonsdagger = "true") #I make use of Saxon's dagger. It's a fine piece of weaponry.
     You reach down and unstrap the dagger from your ankle, just as you hear the sound of feet paddle against the asphalt. You stand up slowly with your back to them. You hear even more feet making a landing. Your hands go into your pocket, where the dagger feels like a heavy weight.
     
     There are at least a dozen hunters surrounding you.

     They flew down in a circle around you, maybe from the rooftops, or maybe the gods themselves threw them down from Olympus. It doesn't matter. They have you surrounded.

     One of the hunters stands up from their crouched position, and the others follow suit. It's almost as if they move as one, a giant organism waiting for orders from their master. You recognize this hunter, their impossibly bright aura resembling the blazing sun that's long gone behind the horizon. As they get closer to you, you see that the finely made black fabric molds against their lean, athletic body. Their face concealed by their hood. You take a step backward, as useless as it is, and have an undeniable urge to command the earth to swallow you whole. To escape. 
     *set wood false
     *set metal false
     *goto um
   #Pick up the wood. It's small enough to conceal, and if any of them get too close, I could easily draw it out. 
     You reach down and grab the piece of wood, just as you hear the sound of feet paddle against the asphalt. You stand up slowly with your back to them. You hear even more feet making a landing. Your hands go into your pocket, where the piece of wood feels like a heavy weight.
     
     There are at least a dozen hunters surrounding you.

     They flew down in a circle around you, maybe from the rooftops, or maybe the gods themselves threw them down from Olympus. It doesn't matter. They have you surrounded.

     One of the hunters stands up from their crouched position, and the others follow suit. It's almost as if they move as one, a giant organism waiting for orders from their master. You recognize this hunter, their impossibly bright aura resembling the blazing sun that's long gone behind the horizon. As they get closer to you, you see that the finely made black fabric molds against their lean, athletic body. Their face concealed by their hood. You take a step backward, as useless as it is, and have an undeniable urge to command the earth to swallow you whole. To escape. 
     *set wood true
     *set metal false
     *goto um
   #Pick up the metal pipe. It's larger and heavier, but the impact will be more effective. 
     You reach down and grab the metal pipe, just as you hear the sound of feet paddle against the asphalt. You stand up slowly with your back to them. You hear even more feet making a landing. You conceal the metal pipe behind your back.
     
     There are at least a dozen hunters surrounding you.

     They flew down in a circle around you, maybe from the rooftops, or maybe the gods themselves threw them down from Olympus. It doesn't matter. They have you surrounded.

     One of the hunters stands up from their crouched position, and the others follow suit. It's almost as if they move as one, a giant organism waiting for orders from their master. You recognize this hunter, their impossibly bright aura resembling the blazing sun that's long gone behind the horizon. As they get closer to you, you see that the finely made black fabric molds against their lean, athletic body. Their face is concealed by their hood. 
     
     You take a step backward, as useless as it is, and have an undeniable urge to command the earth to swallow you whole. 
     
     To escape. 
     *set metal true
     *set wood false
     *goto um  
   #I pick up neither; I have another idea...probably. 
     *set metal false
     *set wood false
     You turn just as you hear the sound of feet paddle against the asphalt.
     
     There are at least a dozen hunters surrounding you. They flew down in a circle around you, maybe from the rooftops, or maybe the sky itself; it doesn't matter. They have you surrounded.

     One of the hunters stands up from their crouched position, and the others follow suit. It's almost as if they move as one, a giant organism waiting for orders from their master. You recognize this hunter as the one from the [i]Magikeep[/i], their impossibly bright aura resembling the blazing sun that's long gone behind the horizon. As they get closer to you, you see that the finely made black fabric molds against their lean, athletic body, and their face is completely concealed by a sleek, black mask. 
     
     You take a step backward, as useless as it is, and have an undeniable urge to command the earth to swallow you whole. 
     
     To escape. 
     *goto um      
*label um
     
The leader's twin blades are still on their back, but as they walk toward you, they reach for one of them. 

And then they speak. 
*page_break "Don't run away." the leader says.
[i]Don't run away? Like hell I won't.[/i]

The odds are unfairly against you, as always, but you still take a few more cautious steps backward until you bump into something blocking your path. You don't dare turn around, the fear of meeting the scornful gaze of another hunter paralyzing you.

Behind the leader, another hunter steps out of formation. She, like the leader, has her own weapon; a gleaming long blade with a wicked, sharp curve rests on her hip. The leader seems to sense her presence without turning toward her and holds out an arm as if warning her to stay back. 

"We're not here to hurt you. But you [i]need[/i] to come with us." the leader says.

*gosub response

You can feel the tension in the air thicken, and the hunters around you are ready to attack at any given moment, should their leader allow it. You need to get out of this. [i]Now.[/i]
*choice 
   *selectable_if ((metal = true) or (wood = true)) #Use my weapon.
     Your hand grips the
     *if metal = true
         cool metal pipe.
     *if wood = true
         splinted wood.

     The leader takes another step toward you, and you decide that right now is the moment to swing. With a single graceful arch, you pull out your weapon and slam it into the hunter behind you. You're not sure if you hit their face, their stomach, or, well, a more intimate part of their body, but you hear a satisfying grunt.
         
     The hunter falls to the ground and you dodge and duck and slide past the hands lunging toward you. With a speed and agility you didn't even know you had, you slide under the incoming clash of swords. 
  
     The leader watches through all of this, not saying a word. Then he nods to the girl with the wicked blade. She unsheathes her sword and lunges at you. You just barely miss her blade, but the edge of it rips through your hood and slashes your arm. You cry out as a seething pain burns through you, but you cannot allow the pain to overstay it's welcome. You grit your teeth and sweep your leg under the girl's feet, but she jumps over your leg just as it sweeps under her. Then the  next second she's lunging at you again, slashing her sword left, then right, then left again. You begin to pick up on her pattern of attack, and when she slashes right, you lean left. When she slashes left, you lean right.
  
     This, of course, only further infuriates her. Suddenly play time is over, and she lunges at you with much more force than before. Then to both your surprises, you dodge that one too. You step under the arch of her swing and move behind her. It all happens in less than a second, and you hear a satisfying empty [i]thump[/i] as you slam your foot into her back.
  
     The victory is short-lived, though, and hands reach for you in all directions. But they're not really reaching for [i]you[/i]. You can see yourself struggling and dodging and gliding past them all. It's as if you're watching this all happen to someone else.
  
     And suddenly they're behind you.
  
     You run as fast as you can, the buildings a blur and your eyes watering. The parts of you that bleed and ache beg you to stop, and you tell them, [i]"No, not yet. We can't stop. Please, not yet."[/i]
    
     Then you hear a distant shout.

     "Find ${him}!"     
     *set health "3"
     *set Combat +10
     *set strength +5
     *set Stress +10
     *page_break Chapter Two
     *finish
   *selectable_if (justwork = true) #In a moment of clarity, I remember the items I purchased at the Magikeep. I could use one of them right now to buy myself some time.
    You'd have to be careful not to draw attention to your hands, but if you just reach in, very slowly, you could grab the...
    *choice
      *selectable_if (mirror = true) #...mirror. I could quickly whip it out and position it over my face, and before they could even react, I'd be able to run away in my invisible state and escape. 
        You keep your gaze on the band of darkly dressed hunters in front of you, especially their leader, and begin to reach for the mirror in your satchel. Your hand reaches inside inch by inch.

        [i]It's now or never.[/i]
        
        With a quick movement of your arm, you bring the mirror up to your face, gazing into your own ${eyecolor} eyes.

        You hear the scream of one of the hunters as they lunge for you, but it's too late; you're invisible. You duck to the side, avoiding the impact of their body. The girl looks around unblinkingly as if she can see you if she looks, really, [i]really[/i] hard.
        
        The hunters start reaching at empty air in a desperate attempt to find you. Someone lands a hit, straight to your mouth. You can already taste the rusty saltiness of blood fill your mouth. Then, you just barely miss another hit to the face. You almost thank the gods until someone kicks your back. You hold in your grunt, desperately willing the hunter to move on. You move to the side, crawling on the ground and away from the hunter.
        
        "I felt something!" the hunter yells. He kicks around the air near you and you can't help the smile that forms on your bloody lips. 
    
        Not wasting another moment, you scamper off into the dark, slipping through the mass of figures. Your feet slam against the pavement, and you hope you're far away enough that they can't hear you. You push your body past its breaking point, your muscles protesting with every stretch. You hear a distant shout.

        "Find ${him}!"
        *set health "1"
        *set Essence +5
        *set Stress +10
        *page_break Chapter Two
        *finish
      *selectable_if (mist = true) #...glass bottle. The cork could be easily popped off with one of my hands, and with the distraction of the mist, I could slip away before it cleared.        
        You keep your gaze on the band of darkly dressed hunters in front of you, especially their leader, and begin to reach for the bottle in your satchel. Your hand reaches inside inch by inch. With a quick movement of your arm, you pull the bottle out of your satchel and pop the cork off. You hear the scream of one of the hunters as they lunge for you, but it's too late.
        
        Everything is white.
        
        The mist seems to suck the moisture out of the air, and even some of the air itself. It curls and swirls and twists into every available space in the area and spreads itself out as if to claim everything it touches. You almost choke on the new thickness of the air before holding your breath. 
        
        A hand slams into the side of your face, directly over your left eye. You ignore the initial feeling of pain and keep trying to maneuver through all the hunter's flailing limbs. A leg trips you and you land on your face. Or, more specifically, your chin. You pop right back up, though, too determined to go down so easily. 
        
        But then a sharp pain and the distinctive feel of hard steel against soft flesh takes your breath away. You clutch your side and fall to your knees. Someone is randomly slashing their sword around, desperately trying to hit anything and anyone. You hear a few more sounds of a slashing blade and the gasps of fellow hunters. 
        
        [i]Idiot,[/i] you seethe.
        
        You can barely see a foot in front of you, but you waste no time regaining your senses and making a break for it, ignoring the pain you feel all over your body. You can hear the commotion of the hunters behind you, all screaming and yelling and dazed and confused. Your muscles ache, your lungs demand air, but you keep pumping your legs, running as fast and as long as you can until the mist begins to fade away.
    
        Then you hear a distant, enraged shout.

        "Find ${him}!"     
        *set health "2"
        *set Essence +5
        *set Stress +10
        *page_break Chapter Two
        *finish
   *selectable_if (Magician = "1") #I'll cast a spell to conceal myself long enough to find a way out of this.
        You take in a deep, steadying breath before murmuring the spell. It's only after the second repetion of [i]peribit[/i] that you feel the pain behind your head, the familiar glowing behind your eyes, the tingling of ${magicolor} tendrils.
        
        When you're assured of your transparency, you silently leap out of the position you were in, just as the hunter's realize your disappearance.
        
        The hunters start reaching at empty air in a desperate attempt to find you. Someone lands a hit, straight to your face. You can already taste the rusty saltiness of blood fill your mouth. Then, you just barely miss another hit to the face. You almost thank the gods until someone kicks your back. You hold in your grunt, desperately willing the hunter to move on. You move to the side, crawling on the ground and away from the hunter.
        
        "I felt something!" the hunter yells. He kicks around the air near you, and he looks so ridiculous that you can't help the smile that forms on your bloody lips. 
    
        Not wasting another moment, you scamper off into the dark, slipping through the mass of bodies. Your feet slam against the pavement, and you hope you're far away enough that they can't hear you. You push your body past its breaking point, your muscles protesting with every stretch. 
        
        You hear a distant, enraged shout.

        "Find ${him}!"
        *set health "1"
        *set Essence +5
        *set Stress +10
        *page_break Chapter Two
        *finish
   #Drawing up all the strength I have, I slam my foot into the groin of the hunter behind me.
    The hunter groans and you dodge and duck and slide past the hands lunging toward you. With a speed and agility you didn't even know you had left in you, you slide under the incoming clash of swords. The leader watches through all of this, not saying a word. 
    
    Then he nods to the girl with the wicked blade. 
    
    She unsheathes her sword and lunges at you. You just barely miss her blade, but the edge of it rips through your hooded sweater and slashes your arm. You cry out as a seething pain burns through you, but you cannot allow the pain to overstay its welcome. You grit your teeth and sweep your leg under the girl's feet, but she jumps over your leg just as it moves under her. The next second she's lunging at you again, slashing her sword in an odd, dizzying pattern. But soon enough, you begin to pick up on her frantic pattern of attack, knowing when she'll strike and just how to avoid the sharp tip of her blade.
  
    This, of course, only further infuriates her. Suddenly play time is over, and she lunges at you with much more force than before. You step under the arch of her swing and move behind her. It all happens in less than a second, and you hear a satisfying, empty [i]thump[/i] as you slam your foot into her back.
  
    The victory is short-lived, though, and hands reach for you in all directions. But they're not really reaching for [i]you[/i]. You can see yourself struggling and dodging and gliding past them all. It's as if you're watching this all happen to someone else.
  
    And suddenly they're behind you.
  
    You run as fast as you can, the buildings a blur and your eyes watering. The parts of you that bleed and ache beg you to stop, and you tell them, [i]"No, not yet. We can't stop. Please, not yet."[/i]
    
    Then, you hear a distant, enraged shout.

    "Find ${him}!"     
    *set health "3"
    *set Combat +10
    *set strength +5
    *set Stress +10
    *page_break Chapter Two
    *finish
      
*label hide1
Walking out of the alleyway, you maneuver your body through the cluster of people on the sidewalk. You don't dare look back, but from the corner of your eye, you can see even more hunters on the rooftops, gliding from building to building. Your heart beats at an alarmingly fast rate, but you manage to keep yourself from quickening your pace. That would only make your presence more obvious. You feel a sense of relief when the crowd you've been following leads you to a big, wide street filled with more people than you could have hoped for, and large towering buildings. 

A woman in front of you pauses to answer her phone call, and it's all you can do to keep from shoving her out of the way. You walk around her, rolling your eyes and keeping a steady pace among the crowd.

Sometime between your maneuvering, though, you suddenly find yourself on a nearly deserted street.

[i]Oh, gods. Seriously?[/i]

Trying to gauge your surroundings, you make out a few Thai restaurants and a beauty shop only a block away from you. Daring to check over your shoulder, you see that you are standing in the middle of an empty street. You need to think fast, you're too vulnerable out here, too exposed.

You could just hide out in one of the restaurants until the immediate threat dies down...surely they can't wait for you forever. Right?

But then again, you could also try to backtrack to the streets behind you, where you last saw the herd of New Yorkers. Getting lost in the crowd again will be annoying, but it acts as a great cover. You'll just have to pay closer attention to where you're going this time.

*choice
   #The restaurant is closer. I can slip in and order something. Besides, they wouldn't risk coming into a mortal establishment and kidnapping me...right?
      *goto hide2
   #I need to backtrack to the busy streets. I'll have to make a run for it, but the aura of the mortals will disguise me. Hopefully.
      *set health "2"
      *goto hide3
*label hide2
You let out a sigh of relief as warmth surrounds you. The building, a quaint little Thai restaurant with a red and yellow color scheme, smells of delicious aromas that send your stomach on a rampage. You quickly walk over to the counter. A boy around your age takes your order and you make your way to the back of the restaurant. You look out the window. 

Nothing. Nothing at all. 

You settle into your empty booth until your food arrives. You eat and bid your time until the sky begins to turn into a violent orange. The manager has been giving you a dirty look for hours because all you ordered were plantains. 

Deciding that you can't actually hide out in the restaurant forever, you pick up your bag and make your way to the front door. All the while, you're convincing yourself that it's okay. That they would have lost track of you hours ago, and that even if they sent out hounds, all they'd smell was Thai food. Even though you're trying your best to convince yourself of all this, you can't stop your heart from clamoring against your chest.

The cold air slaps your face as you step into the night. The only sound from the city is the honking of cars and an ambulance zooming by.

Then you step onto the street.
*page_break It happens so fast, you barely have time to react
*goto um1

*label um1
There are at least a dozen hunters surrounding you. They flew down in a circle around you, maybe from the rooftops, or maybe the sky itself; it doesn't matter. They have you surrounded.

One of the hunters stands up from their crouched position, and the others follow suit. It's almost as if they move as one, a giant organism waiting for orders from their master. You recognize this hunter as the one from the [i]Magikeep[/i], their impossibly bright aura resembling the blazing sun that's long gone behind the horizon. As they get closer to you, you see that the finely made black fabric molds against their lean, athletic body, and their face is completely concealed by a sleek, black mask. 
     
You take a step backward, as useless as it is, and have an undeniable urge to command the earth to swallow you whole. 
     
To escape.
*goto um
      
*label hide3
You turn on your heel so quickly that you almost trip, but you push on. You start pumping your arms and legs, desperately willing the streets to get more crowded, the sun to come back out, the eyes you know are watching you to go away. 

You turn several corners, and finally see some light up ahead. You will your body to endure through your labored breathing. Then you stumble, if only for a second, and feel a sharp pain in your ankle. 

You're down within a split second. 

You close your eyes as your face slams against the concrete, a sharp pain spreading through your head. But you get up, grinding your teeth together and ignoring the pain, feeling the begining of a wicked bump begin to form on your chin.
*page_break It happens so fast, you barely have time to react.
*goto um

*label response
*choice
    #"I'm not going anywhere with you."
        *set earnest +1
        *return
    #"I'm not really supposed to go anywhere with strangers."
        *set sarcastic +1       
        *return
    #"[i]I'm[/i] not going anywhere, but [i]you[/i] can go to hell."
        *set mean +1
        *return
    #I narrow my eyes, defiance apparent in my gaze.
        *set stoic +1
        *return