The Prince of Time:Chapter 1

My day had been going great until my long-lost dad appeared in from of me with no contact. It was supposed to be the best day ever. My sixteenth birthday. The last day of Spring Break. My friends and I had planned the whole day. First we were going to see the new fantasy movie that had come out on Friday, then to the park to try out the new archery range. I've never missed a shot, which is always surprising given that I have a lazy eye. Afterward we were planning on going back to my house for some proper partying. But that was before my life was changed forever.

I was woken up, as usual, to my mom throwing something at me.

"Wake up, squid! You don't wanna miss out on your own birthday, do ya?" My mom shouted into my room. She's always been a lively sort, and always comes up with weird nicknames for people. I mean really, Squid??

Okay, let me back up. You're probably wondering who the heck I am and all that. I'm James McAim. I've lived in Louisiana since my dad stopped coming by when I was about four. My mom and I moved to New Orleans and married this from the Caribbean islands that had been attending Law School with her two years later. Since then we'd had a pretty peaceful existence. I was in a lot of musicals and I sang in the choir at my school, so I was pretty well known in the area. Now that we've got that covered, let get back on track, shall we?

I sat bolt upright, kicked off the covers, changed into my usual attire(khakis, black t-tshirt, and my fedora hat), and headed out the door to wait for Joey and the others to pick my up. I grabbed the stick I had carved out of a cypress branch and began to practice the forms my stepdad had taught me. Hey, I might as well kill the time.

"Nice swinging, champ. You've got a good sword arm. Of course, I always preferred to use a bow."

I nearly jumped out of my Reeboks. I turned around and there, leaning up against one of the willows on our street, was a blonde guy wearing a one of those Blues Brothers. He had a suit, a multicolored tie with a design that looked like rays of sunshine, aviator sunglasses, and a fedora like mine. He had teeth so white they looked painted. In short, he looked like a male model who had joined the mafia.

"Who in the name of all things dramatic are you?" I asked. Hey, this guy ha