I was standing in a rectangular room.

There was a long rectangular table in the middle of the room and sixteen dining chairs were around the table. The chairs were occupied by people who had black hair. The room was painted orange with short black horizontal lines at the edges. Crypta was seated between a boy and a girl who looked his age.

Everyone was looking at my plain top and jeans and my brown eyes and I couldn't stop my cheeks from getting heated. "I. . .Am I interrupting something? Sorry, I only came to return this notebook. Crypta left it at my place."

My eyes stared at the people who were observing me and a much older man stood up. He looked like someone who could be Crypta's father. His eyes were blue and his lips were rosy, finer than Crypta's. He opened his mouth to speak but all I could hear was gibberish.

Crypta turned to the man and did the same, speaking in a language I couldn't understand. However, I heard my name being mentioned.

The room went silent. It was as if everyone was afraid they'd say something they weren't expected to say. I looked around the room and then down and noticed the fitted carpet which had the representation of a long dragon in a moving position. Flames were around the image and the dragon breathed fire. It was the same as the drawing in Crypta's notebook.

I looked up and the man was examining my outer shell, and I could only wait for him to utter whatever thing. I turned to Crypta and he gave me an encouraging smile. The man said something again and Crypta nodded, and they both left the dining room.

I was directed to a bedroom by a guard who was in what looked like a knight suit and a helmet which prevented me from seeing his facial features. No one could have a conversation with me. When the guard did, I couldn't understand a thing.

The wall of the bedroom had a similar orange-with-black-short-strokes design as the dining room. The bed was wide and the floor was carpeted. A dragon symbol was illustrated on a rug at the foot of the bed. The window was more of a French door that led to a balcony. I was too scared to go anywhere so all I did was sit on the bed and wait for Crypta, the notebook still in my hand.

It felt like an hour before the door opened and Crypta walked in. He smiled at me and gave me a cup. I stared at him and the cup and accepted it, figuring he wanted me to take a drink. "What's that?"

He didn't reply. He couldn't understand me. I took it in a go and set the cup on the table, then pressed my lips and stretched them. The drink looked like water but tasted like tuna oil. "This is. . "

"Awful. I know," he sighed. "It's the only way we'd be able to communicate. I didn't think you'd make a choice so soon, Emery," he said.

"So I came at the wrong time then," I felt a little disappointed. "Sorry, here have your book. I'll just go." I handed the book to him and stared, waiting for him to say something.

"I didn't say that." He turned so that his back was to me. "I haven't told my family about you. They didn't believe that I really had merwinian stones, or that I could alternate between earth and Neymen so easily, or that you could do the same."

"Where's Neymen?"

"Here." He made his hands go everywhere, referring to the entire surrounding.

"What happened to Neba? Am I at the wrong place?"

"No?" He answered it as if stating the obvious. "Neymen is in Neba. Neba is us, the entire people, all diversity brought together."

"I'm not following."

He smiled and extended his palm. "Let's go to the training room."

***

The training room was on the ground floor, at the back of the house, but inside it. It was weird, heck; everything was weird and all-confusing.

His weapon ledge was a large wooden open shelf with different weapons in it, from the smallest of chains to the sharpest and shiniest swords I had seen.

Right in the middle was a circular mark, probably where he worked on his moves. There were stairs for the door, opposite where we'd come from, which Crypta told me led to the basement.

"A basement? After all this?" I threw my hands everywhere while he stood there, being his composed handsome self.

He was no longer wearing his blue shirt and jeans, but a sweatshirt and pair of ash joggers. He had me wear one too, and it fit me so well I wondered if he had taken my measurements some magical way.

"That's all you need to know for now. Just because you may be chosen doesn't mean you could be trusted."

The harsh reality hit me sooner than I expected it. I left home, I took the risk, and he didn't trust me. I should be the one having double minds. I mean, here I was, in an alternate dimension called Neymen, apparently a place in Neba.

So I didn't reply to him. Instead, I stood there and decided not to ask any questions. But my curiosity took none of it. "We could communicate very well back home, my home, I mean. What happened to now? Why did I have to drink that? What was it anyway?"

He raised an eyebrow, with interest in his eyes, as he studied me, "Are you always this inquisitive?"

I suddenly began to have my doubts about him, about Neymen, Neba, whatever. I didn't care when his blue eyes met my brown ones which were holding back tears. I didn't even know why I was going to cry because of a man whom I barely knew, besides everything he had told me about him which could have all been lies.

And then, his fingers traced my cheeks, he held my lower jaw between his thumb and index fingers and he tilted my face, to meet his. We were now staring at each other and with every second, his eyes got a deeper shade of blue.

He turned away immediately and put his hand on his back. "My apologies," he said, almost plainly. "What you drank has Elyian oil as its major constituent; it helps you communicate with us. It was possible to communicate on Earth because it's the side advantage of merwinian stones. But it won't work on you because you're an Earthian, a human being, rather, and those are the limits."

"Your notebook's got tons of drawings. You drew them?"

"Yes." He left his notebook in the room I stayed in. "Do you have any questions?"

When he didn't ask, there were numerous facts I wanted to know. At this moment, however, I couldn't make out what was important to know. So I told him no.

"Neba is a combination of our major divisions. My family is the Neymens, the royals. The other communities are Elakki, Bhishon and Asterion. The Elakkis, are our workers and source of food. They hunt, farm, fish and sell. Bhishons are our lifesavers, the specialist. They have the best knowledge of the Neban oils; they know how to mix them to give the best results. They research each oil, its powers and limits. And the Asterions are our fighters. Defenders of the Neba."

"So you'll lead them, then?"

"There are no them."

"What do you mean?"

This was when he turned back to look at me. Sometimes I wondered why he did that, turning away and back again, depending on what he was going to say.

"They've gone missing. Extinct, maybe. We don't know how it happened, we've tried to connect history, but we are unaware. That's why Neba isn't safe at the moment, that's why we can't trust you."

"I don't understand."

He turned around again and cleared his throat. "That's something to talk about next time. The clock is ticking and you should be going. So, I should get onto the main point."

"Hmm."

"The reason you're here is to fight, and I, Crypta Domroyante, will train you to fight."

"Hmm."

He walked in a circular path around me, making me turn my head to meet up with the movement, as I listened to him devalue my fighting skills. "You're weak, really weak, and nothing close to agile. Everyone has a power that can only be unlocked at the fullest of one's emotions. Still, the power is present at all times, just not in its fullest form yet. I'll help you find that power, whatever it is. That's how you'll help us defeat the Zadios."

"I'm not a superhuman. I can't have powers."

"You do, everyone does. They don't realize it; most times they don't even know when they're using it. But it exists. The crystal in your eyes reveals your power."

"What's your power? Is that the scar on your left eyebrow?"

"No. That was when my father and I were on this same spot. You'll get it too, probably a little more, if you don't learn to defend yourself."

I swallowed hard. "Oh, um. . ."

"Fighting isn't about swinging your arms. It's the focus and reasoning that matter. Even so, it is about your strength, stamina and speed. That's how you're grouped, that's how we know your level." He stopped and was facing me now, "We fight."

"But I don't know how to-" a punch on my stomach cut me short and I screamed in a jolt. My hands wrapped around my delicate stomach. His fist went straight to my face and I followed his movement, finding myself on the floor.

He stopped and waited for me to be on my feet and when I was, he picked me up and threw me back down. I groaned as my head made contact with the floor. I could see my blood on the floor, in drops and stains.

He waited again so that I could stand. I did, and his fists aimed for my stomach, so I shifted to the side and attempted to hold his hand. He was faster than me, as he brought his hand down, and hit my knee with the heel of his foot. I lost my balance and fell to the floor. He picked me up and made me stand up. He held both my hands with one of his and had them at my back sooner than I expected. His elbow hit my stomach and he let me go and watched me stumble to the floor.

I struggled to catch my breath, laying there like a rat that had its tail cut off.

"You have great potential," he said with a positive beam.

"Mhmm?" I pointed to the cut on my lips, while placing my hand on my stomach.

"Bhishon has loads of carinian oil." He grinned.

***

"How do I go home?" I stared at the can in my hand. "There's no one I can think of to be with, without them freaking out watching me come out from a portal."

Crypta smiled. We were standing in the room I stayed in, now my room whenever I came to Neymen. "You don't have to think about a person. It could be something distinctive. Something no one else has."

"I can't think of anything."

"The portrait in your room, is it anywhere else?" He turned to the door and held the knob.

"I don't think so - Hey, you're right!"

He smiled. "Goodbye Emerald. Come back soon." He turned the knob just as I called him by his name. "Yes?" he asked.

I sighed, "Say you're invited to a party where all the people you don't want to see are going to be there. And you know the only reason your friend wants you to be there is. . .Well. . .Um, you're not even sure yourself. Chances the party's gonna go well with you around are low and you know it. Would you still go? If you won't, what's your quick excuse?"

He beamed at me. "Does this have anything to do with the pretty girl standing in front of me?"

My cheeks heated. "What? No! No, no. . .No. It's. . .Someone I know. A. . .Friend." I lowered my head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. You probably won't know. My bad. . .Bye then!"

I had changed to my top and jeans right after Crypta cleaned my wounds with his magic oil, and also the injuries I got from Josh's hits. I pulled out the aerosol can, sprayed it, and got ready to leave.

"Have you met my father?"

"If you mean the man you were talking to during your. . .Dinner, then yeah I know him. Just know. We haven't met. Not like I don't want to, I'm just saying we haven't met. I mean, he didn't understand what I was saying and I guess that doesn't count as meeting some-"

"You are a ranter." He chuckled.

"Sorry, it happens when I get nervous."

He stood up and approached me. "Why would you be nervous? It's just the two of us here." His fingers played with the strands of hair before he tucked them behind my ear.

I didn't reply. I forced a smile. The portal turned and made a soft noise as it waited for me to go through it.

"Meetings are constant as long as you're a royal," he said, never moving away from the spot he had decided to take. "Aiden always has an excuse. . .He either needs to train or go to Bhishon, talk to mum, make sure the servants are doing their works well."

"Who's Aiden?"

"My elder brother. He was seating beside me. Dariela is my sister, the young girl you saw. She's not young. Only a few years older than you, supposedly."

"So, these meetings?"

"I go, even though I am the younger brother. It's got to a point where everyone is accustomed to it. It's natural. Aiden doesn't even have to think of an excuse anymore."

"Oh-"

"Meetings are long and boring. The talk about politics, how to gain more money, how to keep a high standard, even with all the insecurities we're facing at the moment. It gets annoying, watching the Uktama talk about how to earn more from the Elakkis. That's cheating... they say it's business. I dread it. I dread having to leave my training ground, dress into a fine black suit and go to a meeting where they don't acknowledge and respect Neba. You remember the first time I met you?"

I nodded, even though I didn't know who the Uktama is.

"I was just getting out of a meeting. They decided to give eleven-point seventy-eight per cent of Neba's income to the Elakki. While Neymen has twenty-three per cent, the largest of them all. You won't get it."

"What did you do?"

"What could I do? I only accompany my father. It's the law, and you cannot change it. All I'm saying is that I dread these meetings but I go to them anyway because I promised my father. And I don't break promises, not to people I truly care about, even if they don't feel the same way."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. And you should do the same too." He kissed my forehead and hugged me for much, much more than a few seconds. When he pulled away and stared at me, he said, "The world needs people like you. People who can change the world."

"Goodnight," I told him and walked into the portal, trying hard to think about the portrait. It only made me think about how much I missed my dad.

My night was filled with Crypta at the back of my mind and a decision that I would attend Kimberly Isnaul's party.

.

A/N

So I guess Emery's going to that party then, hmm.

What do you think of Neba? Did you picture something different? Long Victorian gowns and heavy English accents, maybe?

Did Emery deserve all those hits Crypta gave her? Was Crypta being too hard on her?

I'll let you in on a secret: the only way this book gets more readers is if the readers see a reason to read it. An increase in 'reads' marks the book as a popular one, but by voting, you classify the book as interesting, engaging and a must-read!

So if you think this book matches all three qualities, then please don't stop voting and commenting. And share! ;)

Bye!