Beneath the Truth ~ A Group Story

Seven Artistries. Seven Abilities. Seven Lives. Seven Choices. One Ending.

Destiny is but a suggestion. Fate is set in stone.

Chapter 1

Pilot ~ Kai Rogers

Two Years Ago

My parents have been keeping things from me. It's not normal waking up with bright purple eyes and having your parents just nod and say they expected that soon.

"What?!" I exclaim. "This isn't normal, parents of mine!"

"Calm down, Kai!"

That's my name. Kai, rhymes with hi, short for Kailee, rhymes with Bailey. I was fifteen years old and beginning my Sophmore year in Darren School for the Gifted Idiots. Well, I think they're all idiots anyway. It's a private school where either you get in from a scholarship or pay the big bucks.
Anyway, my first day is today and waking up with my irises purple isn't the way I wanted to start my school year.

"Calm down?" I say through clenched teeth. "What's wrong with me?! Do I have a disease or something?"

"No, you have an Artistry. Apparently of the Purple." My mother says calmly. "We knew the likelihood of this happening was half and half, but it happened!"

I'm just staring blankly at my mother for a minute and peer into the mirror for the umpteenth time.

"What's an artistry?" I mutter blinking. They were a really pretty purple.

"An artistry is a talent given to you when your eyes change color to one of a supernatural color." My dad explains. "And we believe there are or will be more Artists at your school."

"Artists." I snort. "You make it sound like this something normal."

"No," My father admits, "but you are meant to do great things, like protect other Artists whom's parents have no clue what is happening."

"Yes." My mother agrees. "Artist of the Purple, my daughter." She sounded so proud.

"Okay. What can I do?" I ask.

"Your power is knowledge replication." My father explains. "You can absorb knowledge just my touching someone or something."

I grinned. I could be the smartest person in school. In the world.

"Not the world, sweetheart." My father says. "There are other Artists of the Purple out there."

"Wait?" I gape at him. "Did you just read my-"

"Thoughts?" My father smirked. "Yes, Kai." He removed his dark tinted glasses to reveal startling blue eyes. "You're not only one with an Artistry."

I gape even wider. "That's not a natural blue. How'd I not notice?"

"Your mother here shifted your emotions to think it natural." My father smiled as my mother slipped off her glasses showing sunflower yellow colored eyes.

"Mom?"

"We figured you'd be an Artist of the Green because blue and yellow makes green but...I'll take a purple artist." She smiled.

"Wait. I'm confused." I say looking between them in awe.

My father rifled through some drawers and comes up with a thin pamphlet.

"This contains information on all the different types of Artistries. And we are trusting you to use this wisely and protect it." He holds it out to me.

As soon as I touch the pamphlet, a weird tingling feeling reaches my brain and I automatically know everything in the pamphlet.

"Whoa." I groan, suddenly getting a massive headache. "That's so cool."

"Do try not to absorb too much information at once. It's been known to cause a brain overload which can result in shock or death."

I gulp. "Death?"

My father nods gravely. "With great power-"

"Comes greater responsibility." I sigh.

He nods and I stare in the mirror. Great responsibility.


Present

It took two years and a ton of convincing that would've been much simpler if I had an Artist of the Yellow, but I have created the "Literature Club". A club that supposedly discusses classic literature and novellas. Lie. An Artist of the Yellow could pick that up from a mile away.

No, the "Literature Club" is a coverup for us Artists to join together. I haven't worked out all the details or found any other Artists. So it's just me. For now.

I walk down the hall with my eyes peering for suspicious activity behind my silver, reflective aviators I wear for "eye problems". I said I was light-sensitive or something. I wear dark skinny jeans that are almost loose on my skinny legs, a white button down, and a blue cardigan. Pretty much "nerdy" until you see my aviators. They pretty much clash.

I see a guy named Alex walked hurriedly past me with his head down in a rush. Could that count as suspicious? I looked back at him, but I could pursue, I bump into someone.

I look up and see that Crow guy who quite resembles a crow. So pale he looks sick all the time and with swoopy black hair. I look into his eyes. Same colored eyes as usual.

"I'm sorry." I mutter.

"Just watch it Kailee." He grumbles pushing by.

"Hey wait-" I say, grabbing his arm. Was it the lighting or were his eyes getting darker?

"What?" He turns around sharply and his eyes are definitely during darker by the second.

"You must be an Artist." I exclaim.

"A what?" He growls pulling his arm away.

"An Artist!" I practically squeal. Then I stop. No can know about this. "No one can know about this."

"You must be insane-"

"No Crow!" I grab his arm with both hands. This is good! This is awesome! Wait. "You're an Artist of Black aren't you?" I let go of his skin.

"Listen Kailee, usually you're not this crazy-"

I blush. "I'm so sorry. I'm just excited. It's been two years- the only Artist now bam! It's you!"

Crow was being to look alarmed. "Uh-"

I look around wildly and grab his shirt, silently pulling him into the janitor's closet.

"This is big!" I loud whisper. "I should call my parents. No. I can handle this." The tardy bell rings and I grin. "I'm skipping class. Even bigger."

Crow moves to open the door but I step in his way. I just now realize how small this closet is.

"Listen. Fellow Artist," I suppress a grin. "You should join my Literature Club. After school at 3:30. Okay?"

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