Hello! Thanks for clicking on this blog, whether it was accidental or not, and welcome to the first excerpt of Universal Dimensions! Before anything, I would like to say that this is NOT pony fan fiction. Completely original and started from scratch at Google Documents! If you enjoy the first excerpt, and there is even just a few people requesting another excerpt, then I will gladly post another! Please, leave your opinions!

This is all from scratch on Google Documents. If there are any grammar mistakes or any odd wording, remember that it is a rough draft. Not publishing format.

It is always heavily debated with whether or not magic is bad. And, even though I always come to like it, and that I approve of it, I usually can’t deny its bad causes, which has come in many ways for everything.

I believe magic is absolutely necessary for everything; after all, without it, I never would have completed my “big mission.” Magic is everywhere anyway, at least in my universe. It is used by your enemies, by you, and it flows as a powerful energy through everybody and through nature. It is only a natural force of power.

Not only is it natural, but it is the basis and core of power for Angel and Daemon powers… Daemon powers, specifically. Daemons use dark spirited magic for the effect of triumph and strength, but Daemon magic is so “loose” and difficult to control that it instead is used as a much more powerful offense: curses.

Curses come in all sorts of forms, but the overall definition for it is just Daemon magic enforced as an illness of cruel transition; in other words, dark spirited magic “approved” by Daemons to bring stress inside one, and duress on one.

In fact, curses are one of the most dangerous effects of magic. They have different effects, varying through loss of self-control, head traumas, weaknesses, turncoat, and even Daemon transformations. Those who are infected with certain curses that grant strengths usually turn by to Daemon magic instead of “standard” magic.

Standard magic is a privilege granted to regular humans, but it was never written as a rule for we people to take advantage of other powers. Standard, or nature magic, is a very strong force, with the powers of ice, fire, weather and plant life, but it just does not have such the abilities as of Daemon and Angel magic.

Sure, there are staffs and weapons that consume magic for dozens of different effects, but the very magic comes from inside of you, so only those who are capable of magic, may use magic. Many people are trained by others to use magic. Very few carry it as an innate ability they are born with, people such as me; except I don’t remember ever being young. I don’t even know my precise age, which could possibly be late thirties, maybe even forties.

I just always felt like I was there.

Not since the transportation, but I can appreciate and like for what this place is, what my world is! Such a place for limitless discoveries and combat, with creatures of all sorts, almost everywhere you go…

Such creatures also means such Daemons, and there seems to be more Daemon energy pulsing through life than Angel magic. Magic isn’t even performed by humans very much anymore; we Mages aren’t very easy to come across, and there used to be such a countless army of Mages, from what I know. But that was meant to be before I came here, and I feel like I am the only one of magic abilities.

Axial and I, at least, but he is a Daemon anyway. I probably shouldn’t even think about that, him being a Daemon, for even he is attempting to redeem himself and become an Angel again, but, with honesty, he is a long way from such an event, considering his actions and attitude since the first day we met.

I still wonder to this present day if it was the best of my destiny to meet Axial. I do respect him, but, hell, he has a nerve for everything; but, like I said, he is a Daemon, but I do not know if that personality is natural for dark spirits. I still remember everything that happened the first day I met him…

It was as soon as I stumbled into this universe, after I had successfully finished my “big mission,” which I am not going to mention for a possibly long period of time, where I just found myself rummaged into the dirt ground. My body was aching from the universal warp explosion that sent me here, and even I refused to let myself.

I rested there, with my face carelessly buried in the dirt, and just kept debating with myself what to do. It was only a few minutes when I felt some strong kicking against my back and a man’s voice.

“Hey, kid, come on. You okay?”

I lifted my head up and looked to my left to see a tall, armored man with bloody cloth strapped over his shoulders on each side. His chestplate was engraved with some sort of chain of symbols, leading down in what I supposed would be some sort of message. He wore a mage’s hat, and finally, he had wings. Huge wings, for a magic-enhanced human to have at least.

His appearance made me look weak, comparing him to me in my robes, but these were the robes I have begun my life in, and what I shall end it in.

Even though he saw I have noticed him, he kept kicking me anyway. “That blast better have been an accident. I don’t want any people screwing around with nature or coming to this place.”

He helped me up from the ground, and when I finally stood on my weak, tired, sandaled feet, he studied me back and front. I didn’t move, mostly because I was extremely tired, but because of the glimpse I had of his sword and long assault rifle.

After about a few minutes, he finally approached me and asked me, “What’s your name?”

I ignored the pain and answered, “Crossten.”

He looked at me with a disgusted face. “You are named Crossten? There was only one, noble Crossten, and he isn’t to be named after!” He came closer to me, too close for comfort. “What is your real name?”

I don’t understood why I never rebelled against what he said there at that moment. He did seem intimidating, but I knew it myself that I had the strength and stance to “tell him off” about that. But instead I just stood there, with a blank face.

He looked at my robes again. “You look like a Crossten fanatic, that’s for sure. Look at your clothing, trying to make a fake hero of yourself.” He felt the blood stains, my blood stains of the robes. My final battle had left many marks of blood and bruises across my body, and even one, long, fatal scar across my right eye, directly from the one sword that I dodged for my life.

“Even hurt yourself to get the same look,” the man continued to criticize.

Irritance was growing upon me. “I say who I am, and I am Crossten.”

He prepared to backhand me, and I easily put my arm up to defend it. Instead, he lowered his arm and sighed.

“Come on, obviously you are hurt.” He begun to walk back from where I supposed he came, and he waved at me to follow him.

At the time, I didn’t know where the hell I was, but, just considering what previously occurred before the “teleportation blast,” I just figured this was all another universe.

So I followed him, despite that our first encounter wasn’t so friendly. I walked about a few yards behind him, and he looked back at me continuously.

Somewhere halfway during the walk, he asked me out loud, “What are you?”

I could only guess he was asking whether I was an Angel, Daemon, or just a human, so I answered human.

He stayed quiet for a minute, and I decided to ask him, “What about you, then?”

He stopped walking immediately, and he slowly turned to me with a depressed face.

“Uh, Daemon.” He gave me an unintentional cold stare, and I just strangely nodded.

In the universe I came from, Daemons are hated as a major enemy; I mean, there isn’t too much to explain why. In reality, they are just Daemons that are hated. So if he is a Daemon, and he is this comfortable around me, then it must be normal for such beings to walk “up here.”

I asked him anyway. “What are you doing here, then?”

I could hear him grinding his teeth together, and he stopped and turned to me again.

He sighed. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I am just gonna tell you this now, just so you don’t wet yourself about it later. I am a Daemon from, of course, Hell, but, as you should know, we are ‘fallen angels.’ I didn’t like or believe my fate. So I escaped, oddly as it may sound.”

He continued walking, and I followed.