Overtaken by Destiny (A Destiny Among Worlds Book 1) Read online

  A Destiny Among Worlds

  Book I

  OVERTAKEN

  BY

  DESTINY

  Joseph Hale

  with

  Vanessa Hale and Ian Hale

  Copyright © 2015 Joseph Hale,

  Ian Hale, and Vanessa Hale

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1519779168

  ISBN-10: 151977916X

  .

  In memory of Samuel Charles Snyder

  (February 8, 1995-August 15, 2015),

  whose rich and wonderful personality continues to be inspirational.

  Acknowledgments

  We owe a debt of thanks to many family members and friends whose encouragement, experience, and advice brought this project to fruition. We offer special thanks to our parents, Alan and Julie Hale, for all of their support and encouragement throughout our lives. We thank our dear friends Samuel Sherrouse and Benjamin Snyder for helping to sculpt multiple characters' personalities within the book. We thank Katherine Scheiman Manning for the wonderful cover art and Brandon Fenty for creating the map.

  I (Joseph) would also like to thank several college professors who helped expand my communication potential. Dr. Halsey Werlein provided the tools I needed to become a skilled writer, and Dr. Michael Hartman helped expand my creativity so that I could generate this captivating story. Also included are Drs. Scott Cook and Joseph Bean, who encouraged me to excel during their classes.

  Prologue

  “ALL RIGHT, DEAR, COME on. We have to get Jackson’s classes settled today,” urged Albert Ingle, a tall, athletic man in his mid-twenties.

  “I know, I know,” replied his wife, Jenny, picking up her pace. “It just seems so odd that we had to come down here to see the class coordinator. I thought we could just choose Jackson’s classes online or something.” Jenny was a petite blonde whose soft dimples and bright eyes bespoke beauty and intelligence.

  The couple walked down the long hallway that ran through the center of Eagleton High School. Eagleton High stood at the cul-de-sac of the road that ran along the Eagleton Private Academy Complex. The complex also included an elementary school, where Jackson was currently a student, and a middle school. It was a rainy Saturday, and very little sunlight came through the windows lining the top of the hallway. The overcast atmosphere made the hallway appear dim despite its rows of overhead lights. The entire school appeared empty. Apparently, everyone except the class coordinator had gone home for the weekend. The couple’s footsteps echoed down the hallway as they walked. Lockers lined most of the hall, but a gap allowed room for various school officials’ offices, including the principal, vice principal, and class coordinator. The class coordinator’s office stood on the hall’s left side opposite the principal’s office.

  Albert knocked on the class coordinator’s door, which seemed to give way under the pressure of his knuckles as it was swung open from the inside. As they entered, they saw a tall, slim man standing behind the door still holding the doorknob. The man had a round face and brown hair streaked with occasional wisps of gray. He wore a distinguished-looking suit even though it was Saturday, and he appeared surprisingly fit for someone whose job predominantly consisted of paperwork.

  A desk stood at the far end of the room surrounded by bookshelves full of old books. Pictures of the man now before them standing with many of the high school classes attending Eagleton High School over the years covered much of the wall space not occupied by bookshelves. The wall also contained an empty place, where Albert guessed that the brightly colored flag neatly folded on the desk had recently hung. The flag was one that he did not recognize. It had a dark blue field, and he saw part of a red star at the edge of one of its folds. The desk also supported a laptop computer and a variety of notebooks, pens, and paperweights.

  “Greetings.” The class coordinator smiled warmly as he extended his right hand. “My name is Dr. Taylor. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Ingle. I’ve been expecting you.”

  “Yes, we are.” Albert returned the professional-looking man’s firm handshake. “We received your message about our son’s classes.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Dr. Taylor said, exchanging a handshake with Jenny. “Please have a seat. It’s my job as the school’s class coordinator to see to it that our students are matched with classes that best suit their personalities and potential futures.” Dr. Taylor moved behind his desk and took his own seat.

  Jenny interjected, “Yes, yes, but don’t we have some say in Jackson’s extracurricular activities?”

  “Of course you do,” replied Dr. Taylor, “but it’s the school’s sincerest hope that our students’ parents will seriously consider professional advice in this matter. For the last decade—really after the Second Great Depression—schools have relied more and more on class coordinators to aid in directing students’ learning and development. I have personally observed these children at the elementary school throughout kindergarten and kept detailed notes on exactly which activities they will not only excel in but also enjoy all the way up through the end of high school. For your son I also discovered that in the brief time he’s been at the elementary school, he’s already formed strong bonds with two other young boys. I’ve overlapped the majority of these friends’ extracurricular activities because I believe that strong bonds developed in childhood can last a lifetime. Don’t you agree?”

  “Well, yes. That is a good point.” Albert glanced at Jenny. “We don’t have any particular problems with the classes you’ve chosen for our son,” he clarified, glancing down at the coordinator’s recent email the couple had printed and brought with them. “We just thought that we would have a little more input. When I was young, I didn’t take very many extracurricular classes. I pretty much just played baseball and ran track, but you have a fairly extensive list here. Do you think the kids will be able to keep up with these extra classes and still do well in their normal credit courses?”

  “Of course I do, Mr. Ingle. Jackson and his friends Benjamin and Charles are highly intelligent children. Like you, sir, I believe these boys need athletic and mental stimulation. Besides, this is a private academy, and higher standards should be expected. Isn’t that why you chose this institution?” Dr. Taylor paused for a moment before continuing, “As you can see, I signed them up for the chess club and fencing classes several years down the road in order to build their mental fortitude. I have also placed them in wrestling and martial arts to turn these boys into athletes, just as you were, Mr. Ingle, when you were in school. After all, here in the South we believe in both physical and mental strength.”

  The Ingles were silent for a moment, and only a faint tap, tap could be heard as raindrops collided with and ran down the office window.

  Jenny finally broke the silence. “They just seem a little bit violent—the classes you’ve chosen for Jackson. They don’t seem completely normal.”

  Dr. Taylor responded, “Mrs. Ingle, these are normal classes open to every child in the school, and skills like martial arts or fencing also have many nonviolent aspects. These activities have a great deal of historical and cultural aspects that can deepen a young man’s learning and imagination.”

  Jenny’s features softened.

  Dr. Taylor leaned back in his chair. “I’ve already spoken with Benjamin’s and Charles’s parents, and they agree that Jackson is a good boy. They would like these children to continue spending time together, and these classes will suit all three children well in the future. In addition, I would advise you as parents to befriend, at least on a cursory level, your son’s friends in order
to help solidify their relationships so that strong, healthy bonds can be built in their future.”

  Albert cleared his throat. “Well, these classes are agreeable to me if they are to you, dear, and I wouldn’t mind meeting these other boys’ parents.”

  Jenny nodded. “As long as he enjoys them, it’s okay with me.”

  “Good.” Dr. Taylor picked up a consent form from his desk. “I will make the final preparations, and you will need to sign here. Allow me to assure you that the principal himself has spoken very highly of my ability to effectively place young students in activities that help them grow most efficiently. My doctorate in psychology focused specifically on the development of young people. I would encourage you to read some of my essays on child development. I based much of my writing on my observations of children attending this school over the years, both while in school and after graduation. I can assure you that I have a good track record for guiding students toward success.”

  He placed the signed form on top of a stack of papers on his desk. “It was a pleasure to meet you both. You have a great son; I expect great things from him in the future. I’m excited about the possibilities.”

  “Thank you for your time, Dr. Taylor,” Albert replied. “We’ll be on our way. You have an excellent day, and maybe we will take your advice and look up some of your work.”

  The Ingles shook hands with Dr. Taylor again and departed.

  As the couple once again walked through the empty hallway, Albert snickered. “I’m glad we got out of there before he started talking about how many research studies he has been involved in and his magnificent findings. Are all physiologists that eccentric?”

  Jenny, apparently deep in thought, replied only with a slight smile.

  “Don’t be so worried, dear.” Albert placed his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Jackson will do fine in school and grow up to be a great young man.”

  “I know,” she replied. “I just worry about what kinds of things might happen in the future.”

  “Everything will be fine,” he assured her. “This is America, a land of safety and opportunities. In all likelihood, Jackson will grow up, find a nice girl, get a job, live happily right here in Tennessee, and maybe even send his kids to this same school.”

  Jenny leaned into his embrace. “You’re right. I shouldn’t worry so much.”

  Chapter 1

  JACKSON INGLE TOOK A deep breath. He could still hardly believe that he was here at the State Martial Arts Championship between Eagleton Private Academy and Harrison Private Academy. He had worked so long and hard to get here that the day seemed as though it would never actually arrive. His schoolwork had piled up as he and his friends approached their graduation and prepared for their competition. Eagleton Private Academy ran on a year-round school program, and the days grew warmer and warmer as spring ended.

  The championship was held in a sizable gymnasium with several basketball courts. Six rings stood in the gym’s center surrounded by bleachers full of excited parents, teachers, and friends. Each ring resembled a boxing ring with five thick strands of elastic around the edges and pads on the floor. Jack knew his parents were somewhere in the stands, most likely sitting with Benjamin’s and Charles’s families.

  Ben Chambers and Charles Elston had been Jack’s best friends for as long as he could remember, and it seemed as though they did everything together. His two friends were here beside him now with Ben on one side and Charles on the other—the way it usually was. For many years the other two had looked to Jack as the unofficial leader of their trio. All three of them had made it through the preliminary matches, and the competition was coming down to the last few fights.

  The referees and their assistants were clearing away the extra rings because the final fights would take place one at a time.

  It had been a bright, sunny day in Middle Tennessee, but Jack could barely tell from the sunlight streaming through the narrow windows that rimmed the walls at the ceiling. Jack ran his hand through his short brown hair. Jack had an athletic build like his father, but he got his brown eyes and thoughtful, contemplative personality from his mother. Jack usually bore a calm exterior and tended to analyze situations carefully before settling on a course of action. He glanced to his right and saw Mr. Thompson approaching them.

  Keith Thompson had been the boys’ martial arts instructor since high school began. He was a retired police officer who had developed a fondness for various types of martial arts. In his own training and in his teaching, he did not become overly wrapped up in one particular martial art discipline such as karate or taekwondo. As a result, he irritated many of the other instructors who believed that the artistic, cultural, and historical aspects gained from mastering a single, pure martial art discipline were just as important as combat training. Mr. Thompson, however, did not usually care what other people thought of him, and most people toned down their negative comments substantially when he was present. Mr. Thompson always maintained a laidback, calm exterior—except when he was in a fight. Ever since Mr. Thompson had retired from the police force and obtained a job at Eagleton High School, teaching martial arts had become his passion.

  “Well, how are you doing, boys?” Mr. Thompson asked as he approached. “Are you ready for the last few matches?”

  “Yes sir,” they replied as one.

  Mr. Thompson stopped in front of the boys. “Just remember what I taught you. These guys are good, but you three can take them. Ben, you’ll be up against Clarence Coulter. Remember to stay focused. Pay attention when your opponent shifts his weight, and take advantage of your speed and agility. Charles, you’re fighting Doug Mason. You’ve got height and weight on your side, so remember to try to close the distance quickly. If you can grab a hold of your opponent, don’t let up, and don’t let go. Jack, you’re going to be up against their top guy, Edgar Tanning, based on your current ranking, so remember, you’ll need to create openings in his defenses by faking your emotions like I taught you. Now, spend a few minutes working out your strategies before the matches start.”

  Jack rummaged through ideas in his mind on how to throw his opponent off balance. The whole last year, Mr. Thompson had drilled into him the importance of controlling one’s emotions during a fight. He reviewed which emotions his teacher had said were connected to which physical reactions. Display fear or uncertainty when you are trying to get your opponent to rashly attack, let down their guard, or just shift their weight, putting them off balance. Taunting or displaying pleasure provokes your opponent and makes them overconfident. Sadness or pain brings either pleasure or sadness to your opponent, depending on your opponent’s personality and how they feel about you. Anger gives increased power and strength at the cost of defense and control. Concealing all of your emotions puts you in the best state of mind to analyze your opponent and discern their strengths and weaknesses.

  Jack could still hear his teacher’s words echoing in his mind, “Remember, a skilled combatant who lets his emotions control him is a relatively poor fighter, but a warrior in complete control displays and feels whatever emotion he wishes.”

  Jack’s thoughts were interrupted by the ring of the bell.

  “All right,” yelled the referee. “Will the top five candidates of both schools line up on opposite sides of the ring? The rules state that the school with three out of five victories will win this championship. Based on how everyone performed in the preliminary fights, the lowest two for each school will go first, ending with the highest two.”

  Ben bumped Jack with his elbow and whispered, “Do you think we can take them?”

  Ben was lean with a dark complexion and dark brown, almost black, hair kept slightly longer than a traditional buzz cut, which he insisted made him look cool. His dark complexion coupled with his piercing, dark eyes made him seem more serious than he actually was.

  Jack replied, “Well, we only have to win three out of the five fights, so if you and Charles do your jobs, I shouldn’t even have to fight.”

/>   Charles snickered. “But then all these people would miss out on watching you and Edgar Tanning go mano a mano.”

  Charles, a heavily built young man, would have seemed intimidating if he was not always so cheerful. His round face, short sandy brown hair, and ready smile fit nicely with his kindhearted nature.

  Ten minutes later the scenario looked much worse for Eagleton Academy. Harrison Academy had won the first two matches, leaving just the three friends’ fights remaining.

  “Well,” Charles concluded, “I guess all three of us have to win now.”

  The other two responded with words of encouragement as Charles stepped into the ring.

  The bell rang, and Charles’s opponent, Doug, began with a flurry of jabs and quick roundhouse kicks to Charles’s left side. He was obviously trying to feel out Charles’s defenses before making a serious attack.

  Although Charles deflected the attacks, Doug closed the distance again as he shot two jabs and faked a right cross.

  As Charles palmed the right cross aside, his opponent gave a straight punch to Charles’s exposed midsection with his left hand.

  Charles grimaced and exhaled rapidly as the punch made contact. He had not tightened his abdominal muscles enough and received most of the impact without resistance.

  “One point,” the referee yelled.

  Charles tried to move in close for a series of rapid punches.

  Doug, however, danced to the side and counterattacked with a roundhouse kick, forcing Charles to move back. Doug dodged to the right and attacked with a series of roundhouse kicks in an attempt to force Charles back into the corner of the ring.

  Charles, clearly irritated, initiated another dash toward his opponent and spun, launching a back kick.