By: Misty Spotts

This is yet another original story I just made up a few days ago. All the characters are mine. I hope you enjoy it. Please review.

In between his fingers was placed a thin, silky, white paper. He smiled, allowing himself the pleasure of enjoying its feel against his skin, and he ran his fingers up and down along the smooth surface. The blank page was a promise of so much to him. There were too many possibilities to count for this seemingly simple object. Which one should he choose this time? One of the more complicated spells, of course.

In his other hand he gripped his brush. The old wooden handle had faded over the years to be lighter in the exact places where his hand held it every time. His heart skipped a beat as the anticipation started to boil over inside him. Quickly, he dumped the bristles of the brush into the canister of ink by his side and joyfully splashed it over the page.

Thus, the paper was christened. No longer pure and blank with so much potential. Yes, now, it would be awakened and brought to life.

A blotch here. A swipe there. Dots and scratches. Rubs, fades, and solid, bold lines. For and hour, he worked. Tonight, he was too excited to think about anything else. He giggled to himself, never minding the possible odd stares and looks anyone could give him at that moment. No distractions. No hesitations.

And when he was finally finished, he placed the paper down and stepped away from it. It was beautiful. He had never thought to do such a thing until tonight, and he was really proud that he had. What he loved most was the arch of the neck and massive, bold, strong chest. It emanated nothing but shear power and strength: a loyal protector. Why had he not thought of something like this before? This monster had so much potential. There was pride in his heart. He knew he had done a wonderful job.

Now, it was time to complete it. Placing the brush down next to the canister of ink, he picked up the paper and held it in the air the full length of his arm away. Smiling back from the other side of the border between this reality and that special realm within the paper was his monster. His arms shook, feeling the waves of energy begin to throb from the page. It was time. His monster was ready.

"Come to me," he whispered behind his grin. "I summon you to arise, my beast! Step forward and through the boundary of our worlds!"

With his heart pounding strong enough to break open his chest, his body was caught up in the swirling air that opened the door through the paper. It knocked him backwards, forcing him to catch his balance and bring an arm up to protect his eyes from the now roaring wind.

One foot at a time, the great monster slowly emerged. Growing and growing, it soon towered over him like the face of a cliff, and that was only the front half. It peered down at him. Slanted, all-seeing, green eyes. Long, sharp teeth. A jaw big enough to crush a noble man's home in one single bite.

What had he done? What had he created? A beast he thought he loved? No. A monster who was too dangerous? Yes. This thing could destroy the world, he realized! Not a loyal protector, but a deadly predator! A hungry, uncontrollable demon!

Now that its whole body was now through the door, the demon stood on all four feet as tall as a mountain. The swirling wind settled slightly, and the dust fell back to earth. The beast arched its neck, sucking in an extra large breath of air, only to open its mouth up to scream louder than the most powerful tornado. He pulled both hands to his ears, crouching, trying to hide from the pain and fear, but there was no where to go. Tears swelled in his eyes. What a horrible, terrible, thing he had done! How could he have brought such a demon to life? A killer! Everything would end now. Everyone would die. And it was all his fault.

Soren sat up in bed, clutching the blanket under white knuckles. His chest heaved up and down, and every limb was shaking. What had happened? He didn't know. A bad dream, perhaps? But he remembered nothing.

That was odd, he thought. He wished he could know what had frightened him like this, but try as he might, his mind came up absolutely empty. Rising from his bed, Soren went to get a drink of water, gulped it down, and returned to his bed.

There was no use worrying over a stupid dream. Not when tomorrow would be such an important day. The trials and placement exams would be tomorrow, and Soren had to get a good night's rest in order to be in top shape for it.

A cool wind blew in through his window. Outside, the insects chirped and sang their songs of life, love, and loss. Soren curled up under the covers, happy and content with the warmth and comfort it gave him.