Silboria, The Novelization!

*Okay, to be quite frank, I don't know whether you can call this a novelization. Or a novel. This is what the RP of the same name, in videogames, is based entirely on. Before I start, let's get a few things straight:
1) The dedication- Dedicated to real people, my best friend Leanne, whos name has not been changed in the story, and the co-owner of Cloudwinger, Enki. Yes, that Enki. That name has been changed for privacy rights.
2) I DO NOT CARE IF YOU HATE THIS STORY! You no like? You no read.
3) There is no mention of yaoi/yuri in this story, so you homophobes are safe here.
This is directly from my PC, so I have not changed anything from the start a few months back.*
Silboria
Dedicated to my good friends, Leanne and Enki.
With you always and forever by your sides.
My hope…
My heart…
My dream…
Prologue
Saskia/Swiftfoot
The story I am about to tell is real. It may seem like a fairy tale, but even now, as I write this, I remember the world of Silboria. I remember the lush greenness of the meadows, the sound of the breeze. I remember the people I met there, on my journey. I especially remember Moonchild, the old man sitting across from me now. His face, once so smooth and handsome, is now wrinkled like a walnut, and scarred from the battles we have faced. I still look at him adoringly, as I did all those years ago.
On my left is Leanne, older now, and nodding peacefully in an armchair. Her hair is still long, and I can picture her in the day of the Sky Empire, standing resolutely in the Guskan Arena, before that look of recognition passed across her face. I have sworn to write my story. This is it. The story of Silboria.

Chapter one: How it all began
Saskia
Darkness envelops the sky like a blanket. Thunder rolls in from the west, crackling like an old, discarded plastic bag.
I am there, at the head of it all, the front of the soldiers. We have ten thousand, and yet we still cannot match the army of the Sky Empire. They have ships, Dreadnoughts, which, even as I watch, hover into view, high above my head. The soldiers tremble in their mail suits, clattering like pans.
There is a sudden bang.
“Leanne! Saskia!” A male voice calls.
Next to me on the leather settee, Leanne grinned knowingly. Sure enough, Seth rolled in, his wheelchair squeaking slightly. He smiled, his cheeks rosy from the wind outside. He dumped a bag of marshmallows on the seat next to us. Leanne recoiled.
“Oh, Seth! You know I’m vegetarian! I’m not allowed to eat marshmallows.” She sighed, her face dropping slightly. Seth smiled again.
“Happy Birthday Leanne.” He announced, pulling another bag off his wheelchair handlebars. He passed it to her. She opened it and gasped in delight.
Leanne was the second oldest. Seth was seventeen, Leanne was now sixteen and I was fifteen. It was Leanne’s birthday, and she loved it. We were all round at her house, playing the Bytemaster, a games console. Along with the game I had bought her, the long awaited, finally launched-Silboria.
Leanne pulled out the gift from the wrapping paper, her hands shaking slightly from anticipation. She studied the CD from all angles, making sure there was no damage. Grinning, she slid it into her CD player.
‘I wake up in the morning
And I raise my weary head
I got an old coat for a pillow
And the earth was last nights bed…’
Bon Jovi sang. Leanne hugged Seth gently, thanking him profusely. I grinned. Typical. Bon Jovi was one of Leanne’s favourites. She threw herself back on the settee, as Seth wheeled over to us. He eased himself out of the chair, and onto the sofa, grabbing a controller for the Bytemaster. We had only just started the game, eagerly awaiting Seth’s arrival.
At the ‘Character Select’ screen, Leanne jumped up and down in her excitement.
“I wanna be that Princess. The cool one on the back of the box.” She said, tilting her head and speed-reading.
The princess’s name was Xiara, the daughter of the king of the Sky Empire, King Lix. Leanne quickly selected her, while I chose her direct enemy, Swiftfoot of the Shadowfighters.
Seth was confused about whom to choose. He pressed the ‘randomise’ button and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he had selected Moonchild, The head Witch of the Shadowfighters.
As we began to play, there was a roar of thunder. The wind began to howl and beat against the windows as though it was desperate to get in. Rain suddenly started to thud, almost smashing the glass windowpanes. A worried look passed between Seth and Leanne. I shook slightly, as rain battered the side of the house. Rain, thunder, lightning, I hated it all. It scared me.
I became even more terrified as there was a flash, followed up by the crackle of lightning. Leanne gasped in pain, as electricity shot through her controller and up her arm. Seth shuddered, as he felt the same pain. I felt it too, and screamed, as I felt the lightning ricocheting off my ribs and through my blood, boiling it. In unison, the three of us slumped on the settee, relaxed, as though dead. In a way, we were.

Oooooooo!This sounds interesting!Go on!Go on!

Chapter two: Shadowfighting Warriors hear my cry!
Swiftfoot
I wriggled my shoulder blades uncomfortably. I could feel stone under my back, cold, hard and solid. My eyes were closed, and I felt a pressure on my chest, like a brick pressing down on it. I heard rapid footsteps approaching.
“Swiftfoot! What have you been doing?” A woman’s voice rang out. I opened my eyes, and stared at a familiar looking face. The woman, who seemed to be in her late fifties, stared down at me, her face a frown.
“Where am I?” I asked her. She tutted and shook her head.
“You must have had a fall. You’re in Crystal Square. The centre of town. By the Empire, Swiftfoot, you’ll be the death of me!” The woman helped me to my feet, and we staggered, for she was a good head shorter than I, to a rather grand old house. I noticed that everything was painted in dark colours, such as black, khaki and brown. The houses camouflaged into the forest surrounding the town.
In the middle of the square, was a big opalescent crystal teardrop. It shimmered with untold magic power, and it seemed to protect the whole village.
The woman, who was gripping my arm firmly now, knocked on the door to the old house. Above our heads, a panel slid across with a grating noise, and a pair of eyes studied us from the gap. There was a grunt, and the door creaked open, like something from a haunted house. I was guided in.
A ringing noise made me look up, and I saw who must have been the owner of this house.
A rather proud looking man, with stubble-sprinkled cheeks and a proud chest. He had dark brown hair, tied back in a loose knot by a black ribbon. His eyes were grey and commanded absolute respect. His features were hardened from years of stress and pain. His eyes were underlined by a horizontal scar, which ran across the top of his cheekbones.
He was wearing a black vest-top, a pair of black combat trousers, and black boots. A black cape had been fastened around his neck. When he saw me, he smiled his chipped mouth arcing.
“Foxeye, you found her!” He grinned broadly. At this moment, a young woman, who was grimacing, dragged in a boy, with dark brown hair and plum coloured robes from a different entrance. The scarred man clapped his hands together in delight.
“Star found Moonchild too! Oh, what a coincidence!” He laughed. His eyes sparkled with childlike happiness. It was hard not to smile with him.
“Dragonfang, this lazy butthead was by the lake. Asleep.” Star scowled. The young man named Moonchild seemed vaguely familiar. He got to his feet, and subtly waved at me. I rolled my eyes, not quite knowing why. Dragonfang raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He seemed to be a man not easily surprised. I was surprised, however, when he clasped me to him, in a tight, affectionate embrace.
“Daughter, daughter, you worry me so. The sirens have just sounded. The Sky Empire are sending another fleet of Dreadnoughts.” His face became solemn and serious, “You and Moonchild should go to the tunnels to prepare.” He ran back up the stairs where he had appeared. Moonchild caught my eye and gave me a look.
Star and Foxeye ushered us down a flight of stairs, where we were urged into a room.
We stared at each other judgementally. I scanned him over. Under his robe, he had black clothes, with a star on his shirt pocket. When I looked up again, Moonchild’s gaze had softened.
“I feel like I know you from somewhere…” He said quietly. I laughed.
“Of course you do! We’ve been friends for twelve years!” I replied. Then
I frowned.
“I don’t know why I just said that. It makes no sense at all to me.” I muttered. Moonchild pulled a face at me. He obviously didn’t understand it either.
“I can sort of remember this person…Leanne she was called.” I murmured. Moonchild looked more serious now.
“That is weird. I have that memory too…and I have a feeling that we don’t belong here.” He said softly.
Before I could respond, there was a sound like a trumpet from above us. As Foxeye and Star literally flew through the tunnel door, someone yelled from high above us;
“Shadowfighting Warriors, hear my cry! We go forth to defend our halls from the beasts from above-The Sky Empire!”
Dragonfangs voice echoed through the halls. I glanced at Moonchild.
“Let’s go.” I commanded. He nodded, and pulled a pair of deep blue gloves over his hands. I opened a small chest, and lying serenely there, was a glittering silver rapier. I picked it up, and ran the cool metal over my hands. It seemed so natural. Almost… instinctive.

I'm eager for the next bit! Your writing style is eerily similar to my own, when I'm actually writing my real book.

Yeah!Keep going!I love this thing!

*Okay, this is where I introduce Leannes character, who has become a Sky Empirian princess. SHE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS FLASHBACKS OF HER REAL LIFE.Flashbacks are shown in italics*
Chapter Three: The Sky Empire
Xiara
Thousands of miles above the Shadowlands, was a castle. It sat upon the peak of a mountain, quite extraordinary in any case. What made this incredible, was the fact that the mountain rose from an island in the clouds. There were four islands, each with a different name. There was Alkaios, where the Fort of Lienathus proudly stood. This was where young warriors, or Dreadnoughteers, would practise and train. Second, there was Bion, where those skilled with wood and metal would make fabulous dreadnoughts and smaller airskimmers. Third was Guska, smallest of the islands and consisting of mainly a gladiator-style tournament ground, where festivals and occasionally executions would take place.
Lastly, was Lixuan, a big island, where the Sky Empires sovereignty stayed, in the castle on the mountain. Cities dotted the island, a place rich with merchants. On the outskirts were the small farms, supplying food and raw materials to the entire Empire.
Princess Xiara stirred slightly in her sleep. She was lying on a bed. It was four-poster, and luxurious, coloured gold. The room itself was spacious and clean. In one corner was a sitar, a guitar-like instrument, and in another was a pair of crossed daggers.
Xiara was clothed in white. She had white flared trousers on for ease of movement, and a pale cream vest top. A pendant, silver, with a ruby embedded into it, hung around her neck. Inside was a picture of Xiara’s dead mother. On a table nearby, was a gold tiara.
Xiara opened her eyes wearily. She winced as she felt a large bruise on the base of her head.
“What a dream…” She murmured, sitting up. She stared around the room. It seemed familiar, but not familiar. She looked at her hands. They were slightly roughened from handling weapons. Xiara stood up. She went to her sitar and began to pluck the strings. She found that she was used to playing the instrument, and strummed a soft, yet beautiful ballad.
There was a clicking at the lock on the door, and Xiara spun round, holding the sitar like a weapon, ready to ward off her intruder.
“Ah… got it!”
A young man tumbled in. Xiara looked at him fearfully.
“Who are you?!” She asked, a hint of a threat in her voice. The young man jumped to his feet, smiling foolishly.
“Xiara! It’s me! Ricard. Jester, fool, and town idiot!” The man seemed unfazed by Xiara’s question. As if to demonstrate, he pulled three silk juggling balls from his pockets and tossed them in the air, whooping as he caught each one in succession. Xiara watched him in fascination. His black hair was loose, hanging around his earlobes. As he finished his act, he cheered again, and backflipped twice across the room, accidentally knocking over a stool. He smiled at the princess sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed.
“Ricard… where are we?” Xiara was unaware of her question, and this really did take the boy by surprise. He sprang back to her side.
“Hey…Princess… this is a joke, right? You know we’re on the capital island of the Sky Empire, Lixuan. You’re the heir to the title of ruler!” He stammered, unsure of what he had just heard. Xiara seemed to be in a trance. She was now staring out of the window, at the approaching and leaving Dreadnoughts. She murmured something incoherently, and Ricard couldn’t quite catch it. He asked her what she had said, and she was snapped from her trance. She turned to him, smiling. He sighed with relief.
“Come-let us go meet your father!” He suggested. He bounded over to the table, and took the tiara, placing it gently on Xiara’s head. Next he went to a chest of drawers, and pulled out strips of what seemed like bandages. At Xiara’s inquisitive gaze, he grinned, and began to bind her wrists, until they were covered up to her elbows. He beckoned to her, and the duo left the room.
The Palace of Lixuan was as grand on the inside as it was on the outside. Most of the furnishings were deep purple, red or gold. The many stairways were made of stone. Each floor was supported by pillars of marble on the floor below it. Maids and servants raced around to the rooms they were called to, mainly the kitchen and the furnace room. They were young, yet healthy children, kept well in the employ of His Majesty King Solor. Some were simply strolling the corridors of the labyrinth-like castle, relaxed and happy.
“This is it.” Ricard motioned to Xiara, as they neared the room where Solor rested. He knocked three times on the red wood door. There was a snort of acknowledgement, but no voice.
“Yer Majesty… It’s Princess Xiara.” Ricard called out, more than slightly hesitant.
“Come in, come in already!” A very masculine voice commanded. Ricard pushed the door open, and urged Xiara inside. He stayed outside, eavesdropping in silence.

King Solor was sitting in a cushioned chair. He was considerably older than his archenemy, Dragonfang, with grey threatening to show through his ebony hair. He was, however, no less powerful. He could have been described as lion-like, with his noble features, broad body, and commanding aura. He had his eyes shut, but opened them when Xiara entered. He smiled easily, welcoming her without words. She sat nearby him.
“What brings you here this fine day?” Solor asked his daughter regally. She was looking at the floor, seemingly interested in the diamond-patterned carpet.
“Oh…um…” Xiara stuttered. Solor raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t need an explanation to see your father, Xiara!” He laughed. His voice was like a drum, loud and echoing. He pushed himself upright, and stared his beautiful daughter in the eyes for just a moment.
“I have news anyway.” He said, “ I have sent another fleet of our magnificent Dreadnoughts to the Shadowlands. I have a grand plan to wipe out those insolent Shadow Fighters once and for all.” He smiled, apparently pleased with the fact that he was killing the people below him. For an unknown reason, Xiara also found this good. It was a feeling inside of her, and she didn’t know why she was taking pleasure in the fact of murder.
“ Great!” She found herself saying, “What’s the plan?”
Solor merely tapped his nose, a merry look on his face, chuckling happily at his secret.
Suddenly, Xiara felt something drilling into the back of her skull. She gasped, and fell from the chair to her knees. Solor watched her in fear, not knowing whether to call a doctor or not.
Xiara sat on her leg on the floor, bent over and clutching her head, in an almost foetal position. A terrible ringing sound was now reverberating through her mind. It stopped quite suddenly, replacing itself with a voice.
“I wanna be that princess. The cool one on the back of the box.”
The voice was more familiar than anything Xiara had ever heard, more so, even than her own voice. It was also young and female.
By the time the voice had faded, Solor was crouching next to her, his hand resting on her back in concern.
“Are you okay, pigeon?” He asked her softly, using his pet name for her. Xiara mumbled slightly, repeating the voice to herself. It seemed more than just a voice, more than a dream. Almost like a resurfaced memory.
“I-I’m…fine.” The princess said, getting to her feet. She couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity away, and it scared her.
As she left the room, Ricard surprised her. He hugged her tightly.
“I heard you collapse.” He murmured. She pulled away from him.
“Hey, I’m okay, right? Let’s go, I’m hungry.” She suggested, playfully slapping him on the arm. They walked away, happy in each others company. But the voice was still with Xiara.
“ I wanna be that princess. The cool one on the back of the box.”

Cool!This just gets better and better!Go on!

*I need to write faster!*

Um,I didn't meen you had to do it straight away.

Hey!
Great so far! Keep writing!

Yeah!

Hello?HA!Please continue!