Code of Rainbow: Soaring Flame and the Dragon-transcending Magimal

by Weiqi Wang

  CODE OF RAINBOW

  Soaring Flame and the Dragon-transcending Magimal

  WEIQI WANG

  Copyright © 2010 Weiqi Wang

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed,

  or transmitted in any form or by any means.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13:

  Edition 2.2

  All names and plots in this book are totally made up.

  There can be more than one type of philosophy to explain the world

  One of them is called science

  Another one spells as M-A-G-I-C

  CONTENTS

  Purple, Grey, Yellow, Blue?

  Magic Elements

  The History

  It is Time

  Institute of Libral

  The Campus and Cities

  Duel Pact

  Mr. Freshman

  Egg, Dragon&Empires

  Snower’s Present

  A Big Roach?

  Fledglings Tournament

  The Cure

  MagiMax

  The Most Powerful Magic

  A Dragon?

  Mercy of the Demiurge

  Do You Like Me?

  To receive book II (the ebook version) for free, subscribe on the book website: www.codeofrainbow.com.

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  Purple, Grey, Yellow, Blue?

  Cylone Calendar (CC) 3896, summer.

  Corrugon Peninsula of Arkward Empire, Thundeross Continent.

  Filton worked in a small rural town as a tree feller. Although he worked very hard, he was never a rich man and had to live a tough life. What made life even tougher was that he had a baby boy to feed all by himself, because he didn’t have a woman to help him. However, Filton never complained — even though the boy was actually not his son, he still loved him. The boy’s name was Soarame.

  Little Soarame had a cute, chubby face and a pair of big twinkling eyes. Filton tended to believe that the boy was born very curious — he seemed to have a strong desire to move and stretch. Ever since the baby was able to see things properly and move his arms, he kept stretching out his little hands towards the air, waving and grabbing. Then, after he learnt to speak, he repeatedly used just two words — ‘here’ and ‘there’. This amused Filton for a while but then started to worry him, because it was obviously a pretty odd behaviour for a toddler.

  The worry kind of went away when Soarame started to learn more words; then his favourite words became ‘colour’ and ‘red’. To get over that, Filton had to teach him a lot more words for colours, and the boy started to wave his hands around and shout out the colours one after another.

  ‘Purple, grey, yellow, blue!’ On this particular day, the now five-year-old Soarame was again shouting the words for colours and running around the house.

  ‘What happened to white?’ Filton was busy working, but Soarame’s antics were disturbing his concentration, so he tried to calm the little boy down.

  ‘It’s not white, it’s grey!’ Filton’s attempt had worked, and Soarame stopped running. ‘You just told me yesterday, remember?’

  ‘Of course, grey is different from white.’ Filton smiled at Soarame but sighed inside — if this boy didn’t have a problem in his young brain, then he was doing a good imitation of it. However, Filton would never hurt Soarame’s feelings. ‘What about red, then? I remember it was your favourite colour before.’

  ‘It’s not red, it’s purple!’ Soarame clapped his hands, ‘You taught me that long ago!’

  ‘Oh, sure, sure.’ Filton caressed Soarame’s little head. At first the boy used to shout ‘Red, white, yellow, green’, but now three words out of four had been replaced. Thinking of that, Filton got a sudden idea, ‘So it’s not green, it’s blue?’

  ‘Yes!’ Soarame was running and jumping around, ‘Blue, blue!’

  ‘Okay, it’s blue.’ Filton was not sure what he could do with this little boy; he had become used to his odd behaviour during his first few years of life. Wait, what about yellow, then? Maybe it’s not yellow, it’s orange? Thinking of this, Filton asked the boy.

  ‘No, it’s yellow.’ Soarame stopped and looked at Filton, seemingly surprised. ‘I thought you were smart?’

  ‘Well…’ Filton almost got choked on hearing this. ‘I am, but maybe not as smart as you are.’

  ‘It is yellow, right?’ Soarame pointed at something, ‘Orange is different; you said that before.’

  Hmm… did I? Puzzled, Filton couldn’t help asking, ‘What yellow? Where?’

  ‘Here. See?’ Soarame was still pointing at something; it was hard to tell if the ‘something’ was near or far.

  ‘See what?’ Filton walked to the boy and looked in the direction he was pointing. Come on, there’s nothing there!

  ‘The yellow dot!’ Soarame seemed to be confused too. ‘Between the blue one and the purple one!’

  ‘What yellow dot?’ Filton was totally confused, ‘Blue where? Purple where?’

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Soarame became impatient, ‘They are right here! Oh, the yellow dot has flown away now.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Filton sensed something strange. For years he had believed that the boy had some kind of impairment, which probably had to do with language and movement; but now he was thinking he might be wrong. It seemed that Soarame was seeing something colourful and therefore trying to describe it — or maybe them.

  ‘Your eyes are bad!’ Soarame seemed very unhappy. ‘There are so many of them!’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Filton decided to play along. ‘So you were running to chase them?’

  ‘Yes, but they keep flying away.’ Soarame seemed frustrated, ‘I can’t catch them.’

  ‘Okay, let me try.’ Filton was determined to figure out exactly what was happening to Soarame, so he asked the boy to point at one of the mysterious ‘them’, and tried to snatch it out of the air —

  ‘No, it just flies away, see?’ Soarame shouted in frustration; it seemed that Filton’s first attempt had failed.

  ‘You aren’t aiming right!’ The second attempt seemed to be worse.

  ‘What are you doing? You missed it completely!’ The third attempt, again, no luck.

  ‘I’m done with you!’ Soarame finally ran out of patience, and ran out of the house to play outside.

  ‘Be careful! Don’t come back too late!’ Filton was sweating all over after his intense bout of elusive dot chasing. He watched the boy run out, deep in thought. Maybe I should bring him to a doctor. Filton had always wanted to do that, but seeing a doctor was expensive, so he always hesitated to do it.

  The town had always been a safe place, so Filton was happy to let Soarame go out of the house by himself; he knew that Soarame was probably just going to walk around near a small school that lay close by. However, what Filton didn’t know was that the school kids didn’t really like Soarame — they knew about his strange habit of calling out colours no one could see, and they didn’t like it, especially the boys. Right at that moment, Soarame was surrounded by several schoolboys older and bigger than him —

  ‘Soarame, it’s you again?’ One boy said. ‘What’s your colour this time?’

  ‘It must be pink,’ another mocked; the gang burst into laughter. ‘Right? The drift?’

  ‘You are the drift! Go away!’ Soarame didn’t know why the boys were calling him ‘drift’, and trie
d to break away from the gang; but they pushed him back into the middle of the group.

  ‘You want to go somewhere, drift?’ A boy sneered, ‘Show me some colours and I’ll let you go.’

  ‘I said go away!’ Soarame struggled; but he was too small and all alone. Someone slapped him on the head and he fell over. The boys were all laughing and mocking him; one boy decided to kick Soarame and then the others joined in.

  ‘Go away!’ Soarame was hurting all over. This had never happened before; although the boys seemed to be annoyed by Soarame’s colour counting around them, they didn’t get physical about it; perhaps because Filton was also there. But this time, the gang had found a perfect chance; Soarame was alone and unprotected.

  ‘Say you are pinky pink, and then I’ll let you go.’ A big boy kicked Soarame’s leg.

  ‘Sure — you are pinky pink!’ Soarame got up from the ground and tried to force his way out of the circle.

  ‘Oh, no you don’t!’ The boy was really angry; he grabbed Soarame’s collar and dragged him back down. The gang started to kick him again, ‘Say ‘I am pinky pink’!’

  ‘I know you are!’ Soarame was curled up on the ground, yelling at his tormentors. Although he was afraid and anxious, he was not willing to give in to them.

  ‘Damn it!’ The boys were getting madder; they kicked harder and harder, ‘Say Soarame is pinky pink!’

  ‘Soarame… is…’ Through his pain and fear, Soarame suddenly saw something that had never happened before — the colourful dots that he always saw, but had never been able to reach, seemed to be accumulating towards his body. Especially the grey dots; they actually landed on Soarame’s hands and feet, making him feel somehow fresh and cool; at the same time a thought flashed into his mind —

  ‘GREY!!!’

  Soarame suddenly stretched all four limbs out, pushing and kicking outwards. A blast of wind came from nowhere, and the boys were all blown away from Soarame, falling over into the mud.

  ‘What happened?’ Soarame stood up and stared at his hands. They still looked exactly as they had always done; the grey dots seemed to be gone. Before Soarame had a chance to think about what had happened, the boys were getting up too; they all looked confused.

  ‘What was that?’ a boy asked the others. No one could come up with an answer.

  ‘Let’s get him!’ Another one yelled, ‘It was just a funny gust of wind!’

  Seeing the boys pouncing towards him, Soarame started to run right away. He wasn’t as big as they were, but he was quicker than all of them, so it didn’t take much time for him to get back home. The gang stopped chasing sooner than Soarame had expected, probably because they didn’t want to confront Filton. However, they still yelled at Soarame from behind, ‘If you tell the old man about us, you are pinky pink!’

  Soarame was breathing heavily when he arrived home. That’s awesome! He was pumped from his encounter with the gang, and excited that the grey dots had finally come to him. He felt as if he had done something extraordinary, though he didn’t quite know what. He had always felt that the grey dots seemed to like him, but nothing like this had ever happened before.

  ‘Soarame, what’s the matter?’ Filton opened the door, and saw his boy with dishevelled hair and a dirty face. ‘God, who did this to you?’ Filton checked Soarame up and down and found some bruises, ‘Was it the schoolboys? Tell me who did this!’

  ‘No, I’m okay.’ Soarame patted off the dirt from his body.

  ‘No, you’ll take me to them, and I’ll talk to their parents.’ Filton held Soarame’s hand and tried to make him walk out. ‘Was it Jay? Or Matt?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t.’ Soarame said, ‘And anyway I beat them with grey!’

  ‘What grey? Cut it out.’ Filton was no longer in the mood for colours; he’d never seen his boy get bullied and that had really upset him. ‘Soarame, you need to tell me what happened and who they are!’

  ‘Help! Someone help!’

  The scream came from somewhere in town. Filton looked out and saw several people running towards his house, and some other people looking around in confusion. There was trouble, but no one seemed to know what was going on; then there was another scream —

  ‘Boar! Run!’

  ‘Watch out!’

  ‘What a weird day!’ Filton frowned. ‘How could a boar be here in town?’ As a tree feller, Filton had encountered lots of wild animals like boars, but they only showed up in the wild forest and never came close to a town. Filton was wondering if those people had mistaken something else for a boar, until he saw the beast with his own eyes —

  ‘Holy crap!’ Filton dashed back into the house and fetched an axe, then locked Soarame in the house and dashed out. ‘Soarame, stay inside!’

  ‘Everyone! Come and help!!’

  The street was in total chaos. As Filton saw, it was a ferocious beast — although he was not certain if it was indeed a boar; he had never seen a boar as big as an elephant before. The beast was about ten feet tall, with a giant head and nose just like boar’s, and a pair of boar-like tusks over three feet long; its eyes were red and its body was covered by some kind of black fur, long and thick. Right then the beast was going on the rampage, ripping and tearing around; if it had been aiming at people, a few could have been killed.

  ‘Filton, thank god you’re here!’ People were all overjoyed to see Filton come to help. ‘You are the expert, so tell us what to do!’

  ‘I would if it was just a boar!’ Filton yelled, ‘But I don’t think it is! Unless its mother accidentally over-fed it!’

  ‘Wooaaal!’ The beast let out a strange noise, and stood like a wolf, howling.

  ‘No, I don’t think it’s the mother’s fault — that’s not a boar! Something’s wrong!’

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘Defend yourselves! This beast can knock down houses, so don’t try to hide under a roof!’ Filton yelled at everyone. ‘We don’t know what it is, so don’t attack, just stick together!’

  ‘Wooaaal!’ The beast pounced towards a lone man, knocking him away as if he were a stray leaf. Filton reluctantly led the other men to attack the beast, hacking and slashing at it with all kinds of weapons. However, the boar seemed to have a really thick layer of skin; it was really hard for Filton to hurt it, even with the tree-felling axe. After a few rounds back and forth, everyone was frightened, and no longer wanted to fight against the beast.

  ‘We can’t beat it!’ People started to fall back, ‘What now?’

  ‘We can’t admit defeat! This monster is knocking down our houses!’ Filton yelled anxiously. ‘If we let it go right through the town, it’ll be a disaster and we’ll all be homeless! Let alone the deaths and injuries it will cause!’ Filton was right; especially as his house would probably be the next one to get knocked down, and Soarame was there.

  ‘But we can’t… Ahhh!’ A man tried to argue, but the beast knocked him up to the air and he landed unconscious.

  ‘Damn it!’ Filton cleaved hard at the beast’s neck with the axe once again. This time he did hurt it, but cutting through its tough skin, the axe got stuck in the muscle and could not be taken out. At the same time, the beast was enraged by the sharp pain; it swung its neck and tossed Filton away like a roll of paper. Filton landed right on the stairs to his own house; his forehead smashed against the wooden handrail, bleeding furiously.

  ‘Filton! Watch out!’ The townsfolk were dumbfounded to see this. They wanted to help, but no one dared to charge at the beast anymore. On the other hand, the enraged beast was swinging its neck left and right, and managed to throw the axe off soon enough. The next second, the beast turned towards Filton, clearly ready to launch its next attack.

  ‘NO!!’

  Right then, the door of Filton’s house opened and a boy jumped out. ‘Filton, here!’

  ‘Soarame, go back in!’ Filton was terrified to see this, ‘Don’t you dare!’ There was chaos around the house; some men tried to get close to Filton and Soarame, but they were all shaking and hesit
ating.

  ‘GO AWAY!’ The little boy was howling at the elephant-sized boar. Everyone was waiting for the beast to strike; some women had already started screaming and crying.

  ‘Woooo….’ However, the beast’s reaction surprised everyone. It leaned its body backwards right away, seeming to sense threat somehow and hesitated; instead of pouncing at Filton, it kept pacing around him, but didn’t move closer.

  ‘GO! AWAY!! YELLOW!!’ While everyone was stunned to see this, Soarame stepped right behind Filton and howled as loudly as he could. Although the boy tried his best, his voice was still neither scary nor commanding; in fact, it was not even that loud. However, the next second, the beast turned around and ran away. The townsfolk looked on, dumbfounded, jaws hanging like they were about to drop off.

  ‘What the heck?’ Filton struggled to his feet on shaky legs; his knees were knocking like his legs were trying to clap. ‘Soarame, didn’t I ask you to stay inside?’

  ‘Hey, Filton, he saved your life!’ Everyone came over to check the wound on his forehead; they were also looking Soarame up and down with wide, frightened eyes. ‘Soarame, what did you do?’

  ‘I ask it to leave!’ Soarame answered aloud.

  ‘Of course.’ The neighbours were amused, despite their fear. ‘What exactly did you say? Go away, yellow?’

  ‘Yes! It’s yellow and I think it’s afraid of purple!’ Soarame seemed to remember something; he looked down at his hands to see that the purple colour was fading — a few minutes ago, when Filton was in danger, the colourful dots had started to gather towards him again; this time the purple ones. Although Soarame didn’t know what they could do, he was filled up with courage and decided to strike back at the scary beast.

  ‘The beast is yellow?’ People were not sure if they should agree with that. The beast was apparently black, or perhaps dark brown. As for purple… there was nothing purple at all.