Are the memories of life kept in the mind, or the soul? What if a little of both? Is this why we never remeber our past lives, but sometimes are skilled at things we shouldn't be?
A story of making new memories in a dangerous world, fighting for those he holds dear. This is the life of Rhucon.
Author notes: This is my second story. My first lays in haitus as i try to write something I cocepted entire notes books for but can't seem to right freely about. This story is more free as im writing is as i go along only taking notes, and writting ideas as i write to prevent what happened to me before.
About me: Id consider myself an amerture of a writer with a vivid, impossible to contain imagination trying to form an outlet through subpar skills. I write when i feel like it but will try a chapter for a chapter a week. Comments pertaining to the story motivate me more than you might image so please do leave some if you get the chance.