Heres the introduction. The story will alter between past and present.
Year: 900 AD
The cold, harsh wind whipped around Gedore's ears. It was a cold winter day, and only wearing a robe, the general wear for a monk, Geodre was very, very cold.
It had been a tough week for Gedore. 3 children had been born in his village, 3 children that signalled the beginning of Ragnarok. Ragnarok was the final battle of everything in the universe. Gedore had to execute the 3 children, to prevent the coming of Ragnarok.
Gedore knew his duty as a monk, but he had felt very guilty about killing children. A man of holiness should not have to commit such deeds. The children were two boys, and one girl.
Aaron woke up in a cold sweat. He glanced at his alarm clock. 6:49. Way too early for him to wake up, but it was no use. He just kept having the same nightmare. It was some old man slaughtering babies, and Aaron was one of the babies. The dream always left him shaking. Aaron swung himself out of bed, ruffling his hair. He was still tired, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.
He snuck downstairs, careful not to wake his parents. Once in the kitchen, he went over to the cupboard.
"Ugh...." He muttered. There was nothing good for breakfast, just half a box of Special K. Everyone in his house hated the stuff, but his parents kept buying it because it was "healthy." It may have been healthy, but Aaron would always think it would be second to Coco Pops.
I'm gonna need a girl for this last mainstream role. If no girl applies, I will just have to create a fictional one.