“Be careful watching the moon.” An old Terra inscription read on Jasper’s staff. It was wooden and misshapen, worn and hardly symmetrical. “What could possibly be the meaning?” he would ask himself repeatedly. Yet the Elders chose him to decipher its meaning. He alone was the chosen one.
The forest was darkening now and Guardian trailed behind Jasper. His cobalt eyes lit the way and glared from side to side as his dense form dragged through the brush. Fallen tree branches snapped beneath the hefty moving mound of mass and stone, earth and clay that was Guardian. Earthbound and organic in nature, Guardian’s species the Terra were a peaceful and nomadic group of spiritual beings. They sought only truth and union between the realms. For everything the Darklings were, Terra beings were contrary.
On his travels to the Seventh Realm, Jasper, the “light keeper”, had picked up a few allies and many a foe. Guardian’s tribe had been wiped out by the Darklings. Wars raged on now between the realms and only the Terra were capable of bringing peace once more.
Jasper thought back to his childhood on Earth, a time when life was simpler and less adventurous. His father was an avid lover of professional boxing. Jasper would sit at his father’s feet and together they would cheer for Ali as he fought amongst the greats on their black and white television box. His father even took up boxing as a past time, passing down the heart of a fighter to his son. All that remained of those moments was an empty cigar box that stored a few tattered newspaper articles about his father “The Redeemer of Brooklyn”.
Jasper would have made an exceptional warrior had he lived among the Aztecs and Mayans. Crossing through the portal only made him stronger as a human. He fought unknown adversaries and conquered inner demons during his mystical quests.