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The Rebellious Twelve Series

By Frankllin Monroe





In the Dungeons


“In the dungeons of misery, I am captive. But know in your evil soul, Euphirtheous! I will

survive! My eyes shall not suffer my demise at your hands! You hear me, you coward!” shouted the prisoner, screaming through the bars of his lonely cell, which he held onto shaking violently. “Cursed was I to be born on this wretched planet.”  

“Why are you so upset with life, my friend?” came a voice out of the darkness in the cell

adjacent to the angry warrior. It was three weeks into the wintering Mariebren, in the year 1.431.

The ratshes and preying mantisis were coming and going through the crevicing cracks or eating through walls of the cells. “Why am I upset with life? Why do you think? I am in a cell preparing to die. I have been fighting this rebellious war, and nothing has come out of it but a one-way admission to a quicker death. And to think that the ancient warriors of old ever existed on Blikspherical. We fooled ourselves to the point of a meaningless death. What are we dying for, old man? Tell me that reason if you can.  All the stories I have heard about the Chosen Ones. Where are they now when we need them? They were never real, I tell you. They were just fables to give us enough courage to die for nothing. We will never win this war, and you know it.

For the sake of moral law, we are

killed all day long. We are accounted as sheep for the coming slaughter of the Sectorians,”

replied the young man who had just been brought into the dungeons and thrown to the dirty ground of his cold cell.




                                                        BOOK 1

“I tell you the truth by my witnessing spirit. In all that is known to the Sectorians from the

times of the Velarians and Velorians our beginning noitans. We are more than conquerors paving the way for the one that shall save us all. Persuaded have I also been. That neither death or fortune, Amanda’s Way of immortality, nor a watcher's influential ambition, powers that was, are at hand, nor will be can separate my heart from my destiny. Even when I must die for the freedom of those who do not believe,” answered the wisely calm man, still in the darkness sitting on the hard sheep cotton skin, which rendered as his bed. He continued speaking to the young man in the cell, which was now at full attention as he tore off a part of his garment to use as a bandage, tying around the wounds of his bleeding body.  

“Old man, I don't know about you. But I have nothing left to believe in, or anyone for that

matter. Give me one good reason why I should fight for the moral laws of The High Eyes?” the young fighter said with a lonesome spirit. His voice was deep from weariness. His body was starting to pang from the hyping of his anger coming down.  

“I'll give you twelve great rebellious reasons,” the old man said as he started his reasoning

by a story of when he was six years old. “This is as it was told to me growing up to decide my

personal legend. You might want to understand that years of fighting birthed me for a purpose as it did you. We continue the faith of our Sectorial bloodline. Now pay very, very close attention.”  

The old man thought back to the day when he first found out who his real father was. It was

on a day of fulfillment that he would also lose him. The day he knew he had to live for a purpose greater than being even a monarch. He took a deep breath to evaluate his past emotions. His tone of voice became slow and clear. The echoes of the cells decreased to a lesser degree of repetitional wave throughout the dungeon. The young man was at full attention as the old warrior


“It was the year 1.411 when my father was beheaded before my eyes at the hands of his own

heart. Back then King Gaveon ruled in place of his evil mentor who reigned with a hellionous

way of ruling. It was said that though we see King Gaveon before us, it was really The

Principality’s spirit within controlling him.  He, or it as some may refer to, was the greatest evil of Amanda’s Way to ever reside in a Velerian. He was a true Congenital of evilness from birth. He was Amanda's greatest weapon against The High Eyes of creation’s Chosen Ones. The creator of all gave those he lifted up free will to show themselves approved before all. Which by this example lead by the Chosen Ones,

The High Eyes existed in life, as well as the heart of those who deeply believed. I was taught

about Nilknarf the Invincible’s history from those he fought beside in his younger times. They all learned from experience in what they were born to do in their life’s greatest mission and destiny of being a protector of those in need. They were known as, ‘The Rebellious Twelve.’ Which were made up of The Twelve regions of Blikspherical. The greatest skilled fighters of warriors. Some with total honor and some who

would survive at any cost.”  “Wait a minute, old man. You knew The Rebellious Twelve? That is impossible to believe.

They died how long ago? If you said that The Rebellious Twelve taught you about their leader Nilknarf the Invincible"s history, when they fought beside him in their younger times, then justhow old are you? After the beast of all time came to Blikspherical, they were destroyed and died in the battle. There is no way you could have met them beyond that time. Come on, that is a good one, old man. That joke kind of warmed me up, I must say. It took my mind off this freezing cell,” sarcastically spoke the hurting fighter, blowing his breath to watch the frosty air form a cloud.




                                                        BOOK 1

“If you do not stay still in one spot, you may warm up a little. The air is cold, but the

brighter light is hot. Concentrate on the heat and the winter you’ll defeat,” said the old green- haired man. With his back against the wall, feeling its beam of heat from the brighter light’swarming rays.  

“I'll just do some push-ups to keep my blood moving. While you finish your story, it is

amusing. It takes my mind off my own burdens and adversity. I'm listening,” said the young

man. “Like I said, I learned about The Rebellious Twelve from The Rebellious Twelve. Wait. Let me take you back some, to the times when life was not always war. When it was calm for some and the beginning of the end for others. Nilknarf the Invincible was the most excellent as a sword fighter. As much as he was in being the leader of The Rebellious Twelve. Also, he was the protector of Jesseca-Sector 3. This was before there were just twelve sectors left to be combative  against the warriors of The Principality.  

It was also on a cold winterish day, Mariebren 10th, 1.411. The fight was on a glorious

battlefield most famous for wars. The battlefield of Alicia-Sector 98. I will never forget it as long as I live. When word had arrived in Nylorica-Sector 8, I was staying with who I thought was my mother, Queen Alberthany. On that fatal day, I found that my thoughts were incorrect. By the type of actions made by this woman warrior, which arrived demanding hastily that I go with her now. She had said that my time had come. 

 I did not even know what she meant back then. Only those words meant more to a legion of

the fighters than I knew. She rode in on a white horse named Abigale. She alighted with one

dismounting motion. Her shadow towered over me as her most fearless stance eclipsed the

brighter light. She removed her helmet and stared me in the eyes as she kneeled down on one knee to face me. Her hair was pulled up into a knightess braid. She told me she has come for me and that I will have to go with my Aunt Teshia, Queen Alberthany, Lankia, and the Wind Riders of Peace. I will see my father in a time of revealing. Then she left just as fast as she came in. In her rush to leave for her journey, she dropped a message, and I picked it up. The dust was choking me from Abigale’s gallop leaving Nylorica-Sector 8.

I took the message to Ms. Robbie, my godmother. She sat on her favorite cherry red-moth

sofa chair. Her hair was plumb purple and silky soft. She always tickled me with it as a toddler

growing up. I miss those times and I miss her as well,” the old man said as he paused to

recapture the memories, which made his eyes blurry.  

“Are you okay, old man?” asked the young man tired from working out. “You don't have to

talk about it if it bothers you.”  “No, I’m blessed to bless your ears with these words of honor. Fate had it that we cross each other's paths of life for a reason. In my time of living, I have learned that a blessed opportunity presents itself to witness and to give accounts of tribulation. That it may change or save someone's life,” answered the old man as he pulled himself together.  “Ms. Robbie read the message to me, as if that meant for me to know why my life had a sudden change of events from the other kids my age and older. The letter read in detail…

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