“Where are you going?” “I gotta get to class, I told you.”  Will said around a piece of toast that dangled from his teeth.  He pulled on one of his sneakers, not bothering with the laces.  “If I don’t show up for class, I’m going to need to pull something really fantastic out of my ass for my final.” Alejandro sighed.  “What about your training?  You need to—“ “—focus, yeah, I know!  And I swear we’ll get right back to it this afternoon, all right?  I can’t afford to mess up four years of college now.  My parents at least...

So was it he who had violated this ominous inscription?  Or had it been Starflame?  For all that it had been the Elf-King’s suggestion, Zhaeryn himself had agreed.  He looked into the sky, expecting a thunderbolt to lance down and strike him dead for his disobedience of an ages old edict.  After a long moment, he received no sign that the Fates intended to end his wretched existence for violating the sanctity of this glade.  Perhaps they saw the true intent of his heart; of a Chieftain who only wanted to provide a future for his people.  Perhaps it was...

“These are the other Riftwalkers.  Every major continent has one.”  He looked to the others, “This is William Robert Dane.  He will be replacing me as the Riftwalker of the Americas.” “Kijutsu Hisoka,” said the little old Japanese lady, “Riftwalker Asia.” The burly man tipped his hat. “Broderick Evans, Riftwalker Europe.” The young kid tilted his own hat back on his head, “G’day mate.  I’m Aaron Taylor, Riftwalker Australia.” “Jorunna Haraldsson,” the tall woman said, “Riftwalker Antarctica.” “Uh, hi.” Will said with a lame little hand wave. The Australian eyed him for a moment.  “Ain’t much to look at, is...