Chapter 2: The Third Musketeer (Edited)

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WARNING:

This is simply the sample of Age of Darkness. The full, edited, novel is published on Amazon. It is available in e-book and paperback versions! You can find it here:

https://www.amazon.com/Age-Darkness-Book-Brandon-Chen-ebook/dp/B00Q759S9Q

or you can just google: "Age of Darkness!"

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Note: Some of the spacing might be off because of the pasting from my word document to wattpad.


Keimaro grabbed his bag he used for school and put some materials into it for later that morning. He stuffed a few apples into it, along with some of his mom's clothes. All this hassle, just for the mysterious girl. Not that he minded. In fact, that girl was all that he was thinking about. Not in an obsessive way, but he was rather curious. He wanted to know where she came from. He wanted to know everything about the outside world. Was it different than Bakaara? Well, of course it was, but he was sure that the technology must be more advanced! In fact, Bakaara was probably incredibly behind the other empires technologically since it was a small and isolated village with no contact with any outside sources.

He folded the clothing neatly and placed it into the bag, blinking a few times as the realization of how awkward it was to be taking clothes out of his mother's wardrobe hit him. At least I won't have to be here again, he thought. Unfortunately, he turned around only to find himself face to face with his mother, who gave the bag in his hands a knowing look. Keimaro could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he stammered, "W-Wait! I can explain. I need the clothes for ... an acting project! That I'm doing for school, yeah, an acting project. Umm ... a girl that I know needs some more old-fashioned clothes so—"

"So, you're saying I'm old-fashioned?"

"No, no, no!" Keimaro waved his hands before him, his face flushing red. To his relief, his mother giggled—he knew that she was just teasing him. He hated when she did that, teased him. But, to be honest, it definitely wasn't as bad as when someone else did it. When other people did anything to embarrass him or make him look bad, he always felt a certain resentment toward them. He hated being frowned upon.

"I'm sure you have a good use for all of that," his mother said with a warm smile. "It's not like I need these clothes right now. Just make sure you return them. I trust you'll be using it for the right reasons." She paused before continuing, "You know, if you ever feel like you're a little more feminine ... you can always tell—"

"No!" Keimaro exclaimed, his face red with embarrassment. He groaned loudly. "It's not that I'm feminine!"

"Of course not," his mother said with a sly wink and a chuckle, sitting down on her bed and patting the space beside her. "Kei, come and talk with me just for a moment?"

Keimaro sighed reluctantly and sat down beside his mother, looking into her eyes as he kept the brown bag on his lap in a rather uncomfortable position and shrugged. "What is it?"

"You shouldn't be so angry at your father all of the time."

Here we go again. "It's not my fault he doesn't care," Keimaro jumped in.

"It isn't his fault either."

"Isn't it? Does he have no control over his own feelings?" Keimaro said, rolling his eyes dramatically. He scoffed, feeling rather annoyed at the nature of this conversation. He hated talking about his father, the man who always abandoned him in his time of need. "The old man chooses to always look the other way instead of acting. He's a coward."

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