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Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #2023604
When Cithians attack Siraka, an autistic boy named Skyrid shoots beams out of his hands.
         
The Cithian Chronicles, Book 1:
When
Cithians
Attack


Wyatt Jaymes



















For Jeff Wescoat, a true friend when I needed it the most.




Prologue
A unique group of people live among the people of Siraka. They are called Cithians. These Cithians have the power to shoot beams of any color out of their hands.
These beams destroy everything that comes in contact with them. They also possess people and make people become evil by entering into their conscious mind and making them think that all good things come from bad decisions. They can turn you into a mythical creature once you master them enough. They were founded during the fall of Rome on a planet called Earth, or what they believe to be called Cither. They were founded upon the belief that all men are created equal.
They didnât always have powers.
Long ago, in the spring of 1442, a war was brewing between the humans, and the people of my home planet, Hiton - the Hithians. Several people were already dead. The only chance for humanity to survive was in the hands of Adagar Markson, a Warlock. (Warlocks are the only people who can transfer powers from one person to another. They can also make things out of their powers. ) He mixed light, bars of steel, water and, Fire together to make a potion. A potion that could save humanity.
When Adagar touched it, light streamed out of his hands. He thought: Yes! This could save humanity! He gives the potion in the form of two big metal bracelets also known as power rings to Kodyack Blues. Kodyack asks what they do and Adagar says:
âIt gives people the power to heal their own wounds by taking energy out of them. But, only one warrior will be able to heal other people with this power. His name will be The Healing Warrior. The healing warriorâs powers will be able to save you from death. Iâll call these powers: Warrior Powers because they can also turn you into a warrior form.â
***
But there was another who sought to destroy the good-sided people of Cither. His name was Gadrid Markson. He created a potion by mixing lightning, Darkness and fire. When he drank it, he could shoot beams of Darkness out of his hands.
***
The Cithians liked to infiltrate the ranks. They often felt out of place with the world. Plus, they werenât happy about being arranged in ranks. They felt that everyone should be equal.
So, The President, Brian Henderson outlawed them. He sent a group of government operatives called Strikers to kill all the Cithians. Another reason the outlawing was made was because people got jealous. They thought that having powers gave the Cithians freedom and they wanted that freedom.
The Strikers tried their best to kill every Cithian. Entire cities were shut down. Houses were searched for what seemed like instant terrorists.
My dad says that the Cithians are still here for only one reason: The Sayisâ. Just when everyone thought the Cithians were doomed these Sayisâ stepped in and saved them by stopping the search for all Cithians. They did this by erasing the existence of Cithians from the Strikersâ minds. But, The Sayisâ said that this wonât stop them. They said that if another Cithian attack happens, the Strikersâ memories will be returned to them.























Chapter 1 Becoming Hunted
Flying cars crashed into skyscrapers as they both fell to the ground. Rockets exploded as they burst into buildings. A black portal opened as a man with a blue face emerged. The portal disappeared. Beams of darkness shot out of his hands as he rose into the air.
The beams hit the windows as they shattered. People inside the building screamed as it toppled over.
Kandriths fell to the ground, chanting: âPraise, Rakif! Praise, Rakif!â
These Kandriths worship Satan day in and day out and they call him Rakif.
Rangrates helped people out from under the rubble. They wore loose clothing. Ganthiras stepped on top of people and pushed them to the side to get to safety. They vote for the people in power.
Another Cithian rose into the air. Beams of Darkness hit straight into five buildings. We all screamed.
The buildings are all around us were in rubble so we had no choice but to hide out in the sewers. The light flickered on as we climbed down the ladder. The sewers smelt like poopy mold.
I saw a door about a foot or two away. It had cobwebs all over it.
The stomping of footsteps came from above us. We all ran to the door. I closed it behind us.
Jaren came up to me.
âThe Rangrates are to blame for this. They should pay!â
âWhat are you talking about? They helped these people out from the rubble.â I said, pointing at the rest of us.
âIf rangrates would just mind their own business instead of helping people then Siraka would be a better place to live.â Jaren said.
âYouâre wrong! The human race survives in these tragedies only if itâs helped.â A woman said.
She had bright white hair. She looked to be in her twenties. She wore a gray shirt and blue jeans. Her face was milky white. Her eyes were a dull hazelnut.
A man stood up.
âKayleeâs right. If anything, Ganthiras are the ones to blame.â he said.
He was bald except for gray hair on both sides of his head. His face was pasty white. His eyes were emerald green.
He wore a light blue vest with no shirt underneath and black jeans.
Small white orbs went around my hands. They went into my hands; beams of light shot of my hands at Jaren; throwing him against the wall. Fear arose in my mind. Tears streamed down my face as I heard a pounding on the door. It fell off its hinges.
Two people in white uniforms called Strikers ran towards me. I ran away. They still chased after me. I ran faster.
I just reawakened the Strikers memories by showing my powers to the world. They must be after me. I donât know if Iâll live or die.
We came to an intersection. I went left. The people in white uniforms went right. I tripped on a rock. They turned around and ran towards me. I got up as I ran to a fork in the path.
I took the second path. The white uniformed people followed after me. Rocks lay on the ground all around us as I tripped again. Pushing on my hands, I got up. I booked to another fork in the path.
The white uniformed people tackled me as they cuffed me. They threw a black disk on the ground. An indigo beam shot out of it. They dragged me into it.





















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