When the Gem awakens to call a Hero, the world is ill prepared...and its fate is placed in the hands of a 17 year old boy, named Wendell.Â
Some will say this is nothing but a tale of fiction.
Let them think as they may.Â
After all...I can't fix stupid.
Previously: Racing to save Lili, Wendell finds himself face-to-face with an eerie sorcerer and doubts his own power. As a deadly encounter unfolds, Wendell risks everything, drawing on Ithariâs magic to protect his friend, only to pay a grave price that leaves his allies devastated and the Keep vulnerable.
One of the harsh realities of life, is that it waits for no one.Â
It does not care if you are tired or sick, weak or helplessâŚtime continues on, wearing us down and rolling the next challenge before us.
You feel it, donât you?Â
The weight of time. The pressure of expectations around youâŚplaced upon you.
But there is a secret few are ever able to discover.Â
A crack within the fabric of life, open to anyone willing to see.
You are not here by mistake, chance, or luck.Â
You are here on purpose, with a purpose.
âŚa specific purpose.Â
What is that purpose, you ask?Â
That is for you to discover for yourself.
The faint rumble of the tramcar vibrated the walls, ripples disturbing the stagnant pools of water mixed with oil.Â
Even a dozen levels below, you could hear the screech of brakes as the machine pulled into the station. The long, metal, lidless beasts that opened their stomachs to ingest the normals.Â
People waiting on platforms, to be carted off and carried to work. Mindless drones ready to start their labors to support the great machine that was Clockworks City.
No one paid much attention to normals down here, though. Not in the abandoned manufacturing sector. This is where the poor and the forgotten lived out their days of despair and poverty.
âOy, Marrol, you bettin or what?â
Marrol flinched, his attention on the noises above him. âWhat? Oh, yezâŚsoory man.â Holding the bloodsticks tightly, he considered the points against him. Grungy fingers with broken, soiled nails, scratched the tattooed scalp around his mow-hawk.Â
He wasnât having much luck.Â
Mook had thirty-two points, Gerry had twenty-seven. Benny would be lucky to reach twelve points total at this rate, but who cares â he lived off daddyâs credits anyway. If Marrol didnât win the game, heâd have nothing to eat for the rest of the week.
He sighed quietly, blowing the air through his teeth, so it looked more like strategy than panic. It was stupid to bet his paycheck, but it was too late now.
âYou in ta the mushrooms again?â chuckled Gerry and ending with his annoying snort. âCause if ya haveâŚya better be passin âem around. Know what I means?â
Benny frowned, âHeâs pissin around wha?â
Mook slugged the pale-looking gnome in the shoulder, âHe said PASSIN, ya doyt! Not pissinâŚPASSIN!â Shaking his head, âMove it on, would ya Marrol? That or fall out, mate. Places to go, peoples ta mug.â
They all laughed. That isâŚuntil the windows exploded.
BOOM!
Glass and fragments of metal frames ricocheted off pipes and railing. The force of the blow knocked both Mook and Benny against the bars. Marrol flipped up against the railing with a resounding thud â a sharp pain shooting through his neck and down to his left shoulder.Â
Stray shafts of sunlight, peeking down between the rows of buildings created a rainbow effect in the air. The dust from the shattered glass reflected the sunlight over their prone bodies.
âWhat the tic-toc was THAT?â cried Gerry aloud, his ears still buzzing. He blinked a few times until his eyes focused.
One by one, the gang members struggled to their feet. The deep grey smoke from the explosion continued to billow out the window and up into the morning air.
âDonât know,â chimed Benny, âbut I donât thinks I wants ta be here no more.â
Marrol spat on the ground and wiped the blood from under his nose. He didnât care so much what the trouble was, because the bloodsticks had been blown off the platform. Theyâd never find them now. Probably dropped another twenty floors down for all he knewâŚor cared. The guysâd be angry, but Marrol would eat until next payday.
He was alright with that.
The oversized doors on the front of the building swung open. Through the thick haze stumbled a silhouette. Back and forth it swayed, until the figure pushed out into the light of day.
âACK! BAHAH!!â coughed the old gnome, his white lab coat now charcoal black. He pulled the goggles from his face and snapped them up onto his forehead, over his bushy eyebrows. âSo much for test number 322. Ptooey!â he spat.
âHey YOU!â barked Mook, âYa nearly got us killed!â Pulling his leather gloves tight against his palms, Mook strutted towards the old gnome. One by one his cronies followed him, forming a semi-circle around their intended target.
âAnother cell down the toilet,â the old gnome sighed, scratching his black and white striped beard and ignoring the gang altogether. Instead, he pulled a small vial from his lab coat and inspected it carefully. Satisfied the bubbly liquid was safe under glass and cork, he grinned to himslef. âAt least I didnât lose it all.â
âIâM TALKIN TO YOU!â yelled Mook. He took the rim of his hat and turned it around, ready for the physical confrontation. âYa gonna PAY for that old man!â
Blinking twice, the old gnome looked up. Squinting at Mook, he blinked again, then at Gerry, then the rest of them, one by one as if he finally noticed he wasn't alone. âWhat are you boys doing loitering out here? Didnât you read the trespassing signs? This place is dangerous! Now GITâŚbefore I call the Centurions!â
Mook snarled, his poor attempt at a mustache sticking out from his lip in open rebellion. âI think the Sewer Rats need ta teach you old people a lesson about whoâs in charge of these platforms!â
Benny chuckled and stepped closer.
But before Mook could blink, the old man slid in close, an unmistakable grin on his hairy, scorched face.
Raising the vial in his hand so the gang member could see it close and clear, he whispered, âListen kid, you go on and bark all you like, but let me give you a heads up first, alrighty? You see this vial? You know what those sparkly little bubbles are? No. Of course you donât. Youâre a stupid child that probably dropped out of school to show how smart you are, flushing a brighter future down the crapper.â With a haunting grin, he leaned in until their oversized noses nearly touched, âThis is my latest invention. Could be good, could be bad. You just saw what happened to my lab. Either way, youâre gonna find out as soon as I douse you and your pet friends behind you.â
With a flick of his thumb, the cork flew off with a POP.
The bushy white eyebrows rolled forward, masking the cold stare. âIâm hoping it makes your winkies fall off and turns your innards into goo.â
Without looking back, the gang dashed for the ladders, pushing and shoving one another out of the way. Marrol didnât wait for any of them and lunged over the edge, grasping the railing of the next platform over. He wondered as he ran, if his mother would let him move back in if he promised to return to school.
Within seconds the gang was gone. The hallways and scaffolding were deserted, scraps of paper and garbage rolling across the rusted metal surface and broken glass. Smoke continued to roll out of the warehouse, the heavy scent of sulfur burning nose and throat.
The old gnome shook his head. Some peopleâs children, he scoffed. Tipping the vial against his lips, he drank the liquid deeply, draining the container. He smacked his lips.Â
Hmmm. Not too bad. Sweet, peppy and fizzy.Â
It wasnât the best batch of soda pop heâd ever made, but it hit the spot.
Staring back through the smoke, he did his best to bury his emotions. But he was closer. Shifts in the smoke revealed occasional glimpses of the fried keyboard and the streaming sparks arcing from the relay terminal.
More paperwork, he thought, and another six million credits down the tubes. At least it lasted ninty-FOUR seconds this time.Â
But none of it was comforting. If he didnât get some results soon, it wouldnât be long before the government would close him down.Â
Well, cut off my funding, anyway.Â
He cringed at the thought. This project had taken more than four years of his life. Day and night heâd worked to secure the funding and make arrangements for this facility. A warehouse in a deserted area of Clockworks. Abandoned because it was too difficult to get reliable power down here for people to use and live on.
But gnomes did continue to live down here, in the grime and filth, groveling and clinging to the excrement of society. The poverty-stricken, desperate ones did anyway â willing to live under the harshest conditions if it meant a chance of survival and to be left alone by the authorities.
Coughing and wheezing, he pushed the front doors open full. The slight breeze curled the smoke and sucked it out the opening, yanking the foul oder up between the towering buildings overhead.Â
âItâs your own fault, Morty,â he mumbled, chastising himself, âyouâve been alone for far too long.âÂ
His boots crunched over the broken glass as he stooped to find his ID badge. It had a habit of falling off. The spring on the clip was worn and tended to fall off his lab coat if he brushed up against anything. âFor all the money invested in your energy projects, old man, youâd think you could afford an ID clip.â He looked around his feet, but if the plastic coated security strip was nearby, it was hidden beneath the rubble of his misfortune. Lifting a fallen filing cabinet, he kicked the debris around.
Morty sighed.
The key to the experiment wasnât the generator itself. That was the easy part. The entire city had power available to them through generators running on fossil fuels and even the flow of sea water, but it simply wasnât enough. The life of Clockworks depended on its consumption of power. The very word power had become significant to the gnome tinkerer. The government faction always sought more powerâŚand they controlled the very grid that supplied each and every building, every citizen their own power. They supplied the power, to which every gnome had to pay credits forâŚor they lost that power. In the end, it was the government that held the powerâŚover the people.
So Morty had had the idea to create more power.Â
Faster, easier, cheaper. Not to give to the government, but to the people. Unfortunately and to his utter dismay, everyone he approached for funding thought he was flat out crazy. It just couldnât be done, they told him. You canât make a generator that runs off its own energy, they mockedâŚand went back to drilling and refining their fossil fuels.
Only the government listened to him. They assured Morty that this would empower the people if he could make it work. All he had to do was bring his projects to the energy committee and they would make sure everything was placed in the proper hands.Â
Like hell they would.
So Morty took a risk and signed the project over in exchange for regular undisclosed credit sums. Every purchase was monitored, but the tinkerer quickly found ways to circumvent the nosey politicians by buying extra parts for the PROMIS. The device was hardwired into the mainframe that reported its findings back to the committee. The spare parts were then assembled in a side room and used off grid and unplugged. It wasnât ideal, but it was still a secret after three years of intense labor. Use up the main parts to see what works and what doesnât on the PROMIS, then fine tune the secondary device using his findings and spare parts.
The PROMIS stood boldly in the center of the warehouse.Â
Most of the smoke had cleared the area, but sparks still emitted from the tower and monitor. This was the tenth attempt to create an amplification device, using a modified back up generator. The three phase 277/480V industrial machine had lasted longer than its predecessors, mainly because of its six configurable outputs, rubber mounted engine and generator. The problem was most likely the automatic voltage regulator.
Pulling the pins from the side posts, he put on his rubber gloves and carefully opened the side cabinet. He hacked and yanked his safety goggles over his eyes as the sulfur-rich smoke jumped out at him.
The battery bank was fried.
âBlast it to Humär! Another voltage regulator dead and buried. Morty, you clever gnomeâŚyou should have gone into weapons manufacturing. Youâre a nature for blowing things up.â
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!
âOh alrightâŚALRIGHT!â he screamed back at the console. The blue light flashed in irritation. âWhere is that cursed ID card!?â he complained, then noticed the neon green card lying under one of the windows, amidst the shattered glass. Snatching it up, he swiped the backside under the reader on the PROMIS.
âThank You Dr. Teedlebaum,â said a sterile computer voice. âThe modifications you are making will be recorded and transmitted to the Energy Analysis Committee for evaluation. Your feedback is always welcome.â
âShut up, Deloris.â
âFeedback recorded.â
The batteries were completely fried, including the connector cables. Plastic dripped down the inside walls of the cabinet, leaving the wires exposed. Morty took a pair of wire cutters and snipped the cables connecting the worst two batteries.Â
Might as well try to salvage some of themâeven if itâs only for show.Â
Setting both batteries on the roller table, he pushed through the debris and over to the garbage compactor. Grabbing the lever on the door, he stopped.
Thatâs strange.Â
Leaning closer to the metal, Morty strained his ears. It was a muddled soundâŚalmost like a voice.Â
But that was absurd.Â
Besides, the top of the compactor was broken anyway. The very chute that let the smell rise from the holding compartment also let the air currents in.Â
Itâs just the wind, he convinced himself, flipping around the garbage. He nodded to himself. That had to be it. Just shifting pieces of junk.
Besides, he thought â not ready to let such a curious notion go, that would be stupid, really. Why would anyone crawl into a dumpster? Youâd get crushedâŚand thatâs if youâre lucky. Flash incinerated is more like it.Â
Well, if the machine worked properly, anyway.Â
Then again, how could anyone have gotten in?Â
The doors to the warehouse were always locked. He had security systems on all the windows. Ok, they were cheap plastic beepers from the credit storeâŚbut he lived here. He would have heard them go off if anyone tampered with them.
Morty knocked on the metal door.Â
Tap, tap, tap.
He couldnât resistâŚbut he immediately felt foolish.
âThis is nuts,â he snorted and chuckled to himself. âYou really have been alone for too long MortâŚâ
Tap, tap, tap!
âCRIPES!â cried the gnome, jumping back from the compactor. His heart thumped in his chest like a base drum. âThere IS someone in there!â
Grabbing the lever, Morty cranked it down and pulled with all his might. The door squeaked and groaned, flakes of rust falling from the hinges to the floor. Paper and plastic, used bottles and gooey, moldy wrappers from months of TV dinners came tumbling out.
âŚas did four bodies.
âAIIIIIR!!â screamed Chuck, gasping and struggling desperately to free himself from the wet attack of his six foot beard. The thick white hair had wrapped around and engulfed his face, held in place by candy wrappers and rotten veggies. He pulled and yanked, fists full of fluffâŚwith chunks of what looked like cheese mold, but he wasnât altogether sure.
Alhannah and Dax flipped across the ground and immediately rolled over onto their bellies, gagging and hacking on hands and knees. Just under the garbage door sat a petrified Lili. Her brown eyes were wide and vacant, unblinkingâŚhands limp across her thighs. A Boo-Boo brand candy wrapper slid down her cheek to her chin, leaving a trail of brown and fuzzy greenâŚsomethingâŚacross her skin.
âWhat is WRONG with you, monkey?â stammered the wizard. He sat upright, yanking the beard from around his head. âSuffocation is not the way I wanted to go, I tell you!â He stopped to scratch his nose, then flicked a gum wrapper from his index finger. âI always thought boredom would be a nice way to go. Maybe a hot tub in the tropics, cute ladies, those drinks with the cute little umbrellasâŚâ
âIt wasnât my fault, old man!â hacked Dax, âThat bin wasnât there last time we were here.â
Chuck struggled to his feet, pulling his fingers through his beard in a combing motion. âWhat have I taught you about taking accountability for your actions, huh?â
Morty folded his arms, glowering at the wizard. âFunny, coming from you, Morphiophelius.â
Spinning around, Chuck threw his arms apart, âMORTY! My little genius, how are you? So good to see you. By the way, you may want to napalm your garbage can thereâŚthings are growing in it that may be able to hold a conversation soon.â
The gnome studied each of his visitors in silence, Chuck standing frozen with open arms, his smile now strained. âWhat are you doing here?â
âNo hello? No, Hiya Chuck, after all the advice and famous inventions I gave you to get you in the good graces of the factions?â The wizard dropped his arms and peeled another candy wrapper from his beard.
âFamous?â Morty scoffed, âTry INfamous! Letâs talk about those, shall we? I used the diagrams you gave me to recycle our water supply. Got approved by the government within a week of my presentation.â
Chuck grinned wide, âSee? I knew itâŚâ
âWhat you didnât tell me, was that the minerals required to make it work were the same ones consumed by setana!â
âWhat are you talking about?â
âThe recycled water made our urine glow!â
Chuck bit his bottom lip. âWhoops.â
âYeah, whoops. I was branded the fool responsible for the city-wide wave of bio-grafitti!â
âWell what aboutâŚâ
âThe worm-head cabbage? It multiplied in the fish tanks just like you said.â
âWonderful!â
ââŚand killed all the fish. Sprouted so fast it suffocated every living thing in the industrial tanks. We had to flash burn the crop to get it to stop growing!â
âAh.â
âSuper-bond glue? Dissolved in water!â
The wizard help up his palm, âWait.â
Mortyâs shoulders rose and fell in frustration, âGrrrrr.â
âWhat about the uPod?â
The gnomeâs expression changed in a flash, like heâd been splashed with cold water. He stood upright and the tiny hints of a smile peeked out from under his mustache. âAlright, the uPod is pretty cool. BUT THATâS NOT THE POINT!â
Chuck flinched and stumbled backwards. His staff appeared out of nowhere and jumped into his hand, just in time to steady himself.
Morty lifted the goggles from his eyes and snapped them to his forehead. âWhatâŚare you doing here?â he repeated.
Looking to Dax and Alhannah for support, they simply stared back at Chuck blankly. Lili still sat there, though now looking around, trying desperately to understand her surroundings.
The wizard cleared his throat. âI need a favor.â
The laughter sounded like a mouse being mutilated in a horrible trap. Morty dropped forward and placed both hands on his knees. âYouâŚwant a favorâŚfrom me!?? HAHAHAHA! Are you insane? Why in the name of TGII would I help you, Chuck? Have you looked around? Have you noticed where Iâve been forced to live? This isn't out of choice, old manâŚitâs because Iâm a laughing stock!â
âWell I donât knowâŚa little paint, a few flowers â maybe a couple rounds of sand blastingâŚâ
âCHUCK!â snapped Morty.
âOh alright, alright Morty â Iâm sorry. I was only trying to help you. Truly I was. I didnât mean any harm. Gnomes are the most wonderful race and I just wanted to make things easier, alright?â Pushing out his bottom lip, Chuck pouted. Unfortunately it looked more like a heaving, furry centipede. âYouâre mad, I can see that â but youâre the only one that can help me. Well,â he waved a hand at the rest of the group, âus.â
Morty pushed his way past the wizard to hook up the battery replacements. âWhat do you want?â
âUh, well, you see Morty, thatâs the hard part.â
The gnomes head fell against the door. He sighed loudly. âItâs always hard, ChuckâŚjust spit it out.â
With a tap, tap, of his staff, Chuck crept closer and then leaned in. âI need you to take us to Deloris,â he whispered.
Morty choked on his own saliva. âAre you inSANE!?? You want me to take all of you, humans andâŚâ he paused to wave his hands wildly in Daxâs direction, ânot-so-human, to my ex-wife?!? Why would I risk imprisonment, even banishment for aiding off-landers? Even worseâŚwhy would I voluntarily talk to the crazy woman?!â
Chucks expression softened, his voice calm and low. âTwo reasons. One, because you love her. You always have, you always will, and; two, because the fate of the world depends on it, Morty.âÂ
The gnome pushed away from him.Â
Studied his expression.Â
Chuck held his gaze, unblinking, until the gnome looked away.
âI donât believe you.â
âNo?â replied Chuck, âWell the boyâs all the proof you need.â
Morty looked around and frowned. âWhat boy?â
Spinning on his heels, Chuck looked behind him. âMonkey!â
âWhaaaaat!?â he gawked, pulling a sweaty lollipop from behind his ear.Â
âWhereâs the boy?â
Lili blinked twice and pointed over her shoulder, âHe isâŚstill in that box. WasâŚunder the rottingâŚpotatoâs, I think.â She shuttered, âCan we please go home now? I donât want to be here.â
With a flurry of cloth, Chuck dashed to the side of the compactor. He tossed the staff to the side and it hovered in the air next to the open door. Taking a step into the waste, he reached inside with both hands and tugged. Grunting and cursing under his breath, he pulled out a sneakerâŚwhich was connected to a leg.Â
BANG!
The body stuck.Â
Frustrated, Chuck pulled harder.Â
BANG! BANG! BANG!Â
âChuck!â cried Dax, rushing to the wizards side. âLet me help you!â
The wizard snarled, irritated, âNo. Iâve got it, thank you.â
He yanked on Wendellâs leg more aggressively. BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
Dax forced the wizard away from the compactor. âSTOP IT â Yer gonna give the kid brain damage!â
Alhannah joined them and with a few delicate attempts, had Wendellâs body on the floor. The gnome picked the garbage and miscellaneous wrappers out of his hair and off his arms. Anything attached to the mägoweave slid off completely, leaving the material looking clean and new. Chuck used a handkerchief to wipe Wendellâs face.
âYou brought me aâŚdead body?â Morty cringed. The blood drained from his face. A dead boy. They actually brought a dead body into my warehouse, he whimpered. So now Iâm not only guilty of harboring non-gnome fugitives, now I could be made an accessory to murder!Â
Neither Dax nor Alhannah said a word.Â
Morty walked around slowly, keeping his distance, careful not to touch it. When heâd seen enough, he cleared his throat. âWhy should I care about some human kid I donât know?â
Chuck smiled. He let it linger on his face before answering.Â
âBecause the fate of the world depends on it, Morty.â
The gnome frowned back. âYou said that already.â
This time the wizard knelt down and lifted the black t-shirt with the frozen smiley face on it.Â
The room filled with a soft glow of rainbow colors, as the Ithari sparkled from the center of Wendellâs chest.
Morty's mouth instantly fell open.
âOk,â he choked, âI believe you.â
Author Notes
Welcome to SEASON 4 of Chronicles of a Hero!
I hope you enjoyed the first episode, because Iâm beside myself excited to launch the new season of adventure and mysteryâŚI think youâre gonna love it.
[crosses fingersâŚ]
Jaime
(Let me know what you think, okay?)




"You are not here by mistake, chance, or luck.
You are here on purpose, with a purpose.
âŚa specific purpose.
What is that purpose, you ask?
That is for you to discover for yourself."
These words of encouragement are amazing, and I love how relatable the story is in regards to our own real life doubts and struggles. They ring so true!!
And I love the dumpster landing. That's a great entrance into Clockwork City!!