Chapter 1 - Prologue
Welcome to the first part of this epic exclusive YA urban fantasy saga. To celebrate the release I’m posting an episode a day for the the first three days. As with my other serialised novella I’ve setup an index page that will be linked at the top of each post. There you’ll be able to catchup with any posts you’ve missed. Feel free to reach out or comment if you like this story. Your feedback is what keeps the magic flowing.
Ewan Wu, a name whispered in awe. A force for good, a kung fu superhero, a mystical warrior from the Far East blessed with the power of a dragon.
Ewan Wu, the scourge of evil everywhere.
Ewan Wu, a name to strike fear in to the hearts of demons and gods alike.
Leading a last desperate band of kung fu heroes in an epic struggle to save humanity, Ewan Wu’s Army is the world's last best hope, dedicated to…
“Ewan, get out of bed, you’re going to be late for school!”
Ewan Wu is a dreamer. He dreams of a world where he’s not the butt of every joke and the target of every bully in the school.
“Ewan, I’m not going to call you again, get out of bed, NOW!”
“Yes, mum.”
Without his mum acting as his alarm clock, Ewan would never get to school on time. It was not like he could even make up the time by running if he was genuinely late. Not since he got chased by a gang of bullies a few months ago and discovered what it’s like to over exert yourself on a cold wet day, whilst suffering an asthma attack.
Ewan spent two days in hospital with his mum camped out by his bed and as soon as they got home she went straight round to the parents of the bullies and gave them all what for. Ewan wasn’t sure which was more embarrassing, being chased or being known as the boy who’s mum fought all his battles. Although deep down he knew it felt nice to have someone who cared enough to stand up for him.
“Ewan breakfasts on the table.”
“Coming mum,”
Few people would want to get on the wrong side of Sally Wu when she was angry, so Ewan made sure he straightened the bed and picked up all his dirty washing before heading downstairs.
Today was the last day of junior school and Ewan couldn’t wait for it to be over. Sally had arranged for him to stay with his best friend Dylan for the weekend to celebrate. Dylan’s mum was picking them both up after school and taking them out for Pizza.
“Hurry up Ewan, you don’t want to be late on your last day.”
Ewan scoffed down the last of his toast and went back upstairs to clean his teeth.
“And don’t forget your lunch this time, you know your dad and I have an appointment at the hospital so I can’t bring it to you.”
Ewan hadn’t forgotten about the appointment, his parents had told him the day before and for some reason which he couldn’t understand he began to cry.
His parents had given him a big hug and told him not to be silly, it was just routine tests and everything would be all right.
Ewan Wu, a name laughed at in the classrooms, pointed at in the corridors, and ridiculed regularly in the gym.
Ewan Wu, the dreamer. The boy who’s mum died.
Ginger Wu, the only half Chinese half Scottish kid in Glasgow with flaming red ginger hair.
Ah Choo, the weak, nerdy asthmatic with allergies and an abject fear of pollen.
Ewan often thought the only thing he’d got to be thankful for was that he didn’t wear glasses. That and his dreams, the one constant in the last few years since his mum died.
In Ewan’s world, no one would ever call the mighty Dragon Wu those names and get away with it. He’d spend hours imagining how stupid demons would look trying to bully him whilst skewered on one of Dragon’s magical jian swords.
That was the beauty of dreams. You could be anything, go anywhere, do everything and still be up in time for breakfast.
The downside was that when you realised it was nothing more than a dream and the reality nothing more than a letdown.
The truth was that Ewan was grateful for his dreams. He loved to share his adventures with Dylan, his best and only friend who craved the next episode every day after school.
Recently Ewan’s dreams had become more vivid, more visceral. It was the same dream playing on a constant loop and each time round it became more and more real. He rubbed his eyes as he reluctantly dragged himself out of bed. The dream had been even more intense than usual and despite getting his full eight hours he woke up yet again more tired than when he went to bed.
Ewan looked across to the crumpled sheets and pile of discarded exercise books he’d been using to keep track of his dreams as soon as he woke up.
Most mornings Ewan woke to find himself covered in sweat, sometimes he felt as if he’d run a marathon during the night.
“Ewan, breakfast is ready, hurry up.”
“Coming dad.”
He quickly finished getting dressed and slammed the door shut on the messy room.
I love the foreshadowing of him waking up feeling like he exerted himself! Great beginning, great hooks. Looking forward to reading more :)
This is really cool! To hear his dreams as if they were reality, like an imaginary friend that is so real a place must be set at the dinner table. Then the next paragraphs contradict the dream, and you realize it was not real.
But then, what is reality?