He was made from destruction—but chose to protect.

In a universe torn by cosmic conflict, Reaperplanks rises from the ashes with a burning question: What if a weapon of destruction could choose peace? Born from the mysterious Reaper waters, Reaperplanks is one of the few gifted—or cursed—with uncontrollable strength, elemental fire, and abilities beyond comprehension. But his powers come at a cost, and every choice he makes could decide the fate of not just his people, but the universe itself.

As old gods stir and forgotten wars ignite, Reaper must face dragons, demigods, and the haunting shadow of who he used to be. Along the way, he forms bonds, suffers loss, and fights to overcome the darker parts of himself. But when destiny calls, will he be a savior... or the final blow in a silent war?

The Story of Reaperplanks is an epic young adult fantasy series about redemption, power, and the battle between who we are and who we want to be. .

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GENRE Contemporary Ficrion Romance	EBOOK Amazon Kindle Smashwords Nook Apple Google Play Kobo	PRINT Amazon
Available: November 23, 2026
Teen

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Excerpt

Chapter One
A New Dawn

The sound of heavy footsteps pounded through the forest, branches snapping underfoot. A group of Planksions—people known for their strength and unity—raced after a shadow darting between the trees, their breaths ragged. The outcast they pursued had committed crimes against their village—thievery, betrayal—and now he was running for his life.

“Don't let him escape!” one of them shouted, his voice sharp in the thick night air.

Ahead of them, the outcast—wild-eyed and desperate—plunged deeper into the woods, his feet slipping on the wet ground. He knew these forests well, but fear clouded his senses. Ivar had been living on the fringes for years, his once-proud stance now reduced to this frantic sprint. His dark hair whipped across his face. His gaunt figure barely held together the remnants of a tattered cloak, once a sign of dignity, but now caked in mud. His crimes were many, but survival was all that mattered to him now. He wasn’t just running for himself—someone was waiting for him—depending on him to return.

His pursuers were gaining.

Ivar stumbled into a clearing, panting heavily as he glanced over his shoulder, the shouts drawing closer. His foot splashed into a shallow pool of water that shimmered under the moonlight. It wasn’t ordinary water—it seemed to glow softly, casting a pale, ethereal light across the trees. Panic surged through him, and in desperation, he plunged his hands into the glowing water.

The moment his skin touched the surface, the water flashed into a brilliant light blue, illuminating the entire forest. Ivar gasped, but instead of feeling powerful, a cold fear gripped him. He stared down at his arms in horror as his skin began to change. Half of his body, starting from his left hand, slowly shifted into a burnt orange—his favorite color, though in this moment it felt alien and wrong. His breath quickened, and when he looked into the pool’s reflection, his eyes had turned a piercing teal, the complementary color to his transformation.

“What...is happening to me?” he whispered, his voice trembling with fear. He tried to pull away from the water, but his body felt heavier, foreign.

 

* * *

Hundreds of years later, on June ninth, the technology of this planet and its people had advanced far beyond imagination, even allowing them to travel through space to other planets and galaxies. In a small, brightly lit room, a brand-new baby boy was born. His parents, Max and Sophia Emerarudo, looked upon him with awe and pride, and together they gave him a name: Alexander Emerarudo. But now, it was time for another choice—the choice of which water he would be bathed in, the water that would grant him his powers and his full name.

Max, having been bathed in the Water of the Wolves, held the full name Wolfplanks Max Emerarudo, while Sophia, blessed by the Water of the Cats, bore the name Catplanks Sophia Emerarudo. Both parents had known, from the moment they laid eyes on their son, what his name would be.

“Reaperplanks,” Max murmured softly, glancing at his wife.

“Reaperplanks?” Sophia asked, a smile lighting her face.

“Yeah,” Max replied gently, letting his newborn son wrap a tiny hand around his finger. “It’s the only thing I can see him as. It’s what the universe is telling me, I guess.”

As he spoke, his black hair caught the room’s soft light, a contrast to his striking, mismatched eyes—one a bright blue, the other a vivid green. His silver-furred wolf ears and tail shifted slightly as he leaned closer to his son, pride filling his gaze.

Sophia smiled beside him, her own features equally unique. Her brown hair framed beautiful blue eyes as bright as the midday sky, and from beneath her dark hair, sleek black cat ears rose, matched by a black tail that swayed gently at her side.

“Alright. Reaperplanks Alexander Emerarudo it is then,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth.

A soft knock came to the door.

“Come in,” Max called, his voice steady.

The door swung open gently, revealing a nurse stepping inside with someone close behind her. She was followed by an old man, his frame frail but his presence commanding. His sleek white hair draped down his collar, covered by a deep purple hood. Small bottles filled with water samples hung at his waist, each containing a different glimmering color.

“Have you decided on a name for the little guy yet?” the nurse asked with a warm smile, leaning down to tickle Reaper’s nose. The baby let out a tiny giggle, reaching up to grasp her finger, and his parents couldn’t help but smile, relieved and joyful to see their son so healthy and full of life.

“Yes. His name is Reaperplanks Alexander Emerarudo,” Max replied proudly.

At his words, the room fell silent. The old man’s expression turned thoughtful, his gaze sharpening as he looked at the parents.

“A Reaperplanks?” he murmured, his gaze sharp. “Are you sure of this path? Reaperplanks carry a history few dare to continue.”

Max nodded, resolute. “Yes. I’m sure of it. It’s what the universe has been telling me. He’s supposed to be a Reaperplanks,” Max replied firmly.

The old man observed him for a moment then gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Very well. If you would kindly bring the child and follow me to the Sanctum of Waters, we can finalize your decision,” he said. “Be aware—once this choice is made, there is no going back.”

Max met the man’s steady gaze then looked back at Sophia and their newborn son, his expression softening, radiating his need to comfort her. “I’ll be right back with our boy,” he said to her gently, cradling Reaper with great care. “I promise.”

“Alright. Be careful,” Sophia replied, a trace of worry in her voice.

“I’ll do my best,” Max chuckled as he left the room, following the man and the nurse down the hall. The nurse soon parted from them to tend to other patients, leaving Max and the old man alone in the quiet corridor. The man’s expression was tense as they walked in silence.

After a few moments, he spoke, his tone heavy. “I fear for this child.”

Max raised an eyebrow, giving a soft laugh. “What, you don’t think I’ll be a good father?”

The man shook his head. “No, I have no doubts there—you’ll be a wonderful father. And your wife, I imagine, an even more remarkable mother. My concern is for the path you’re choosing for him.”

Max’s expression grew more serious. “It’s the path the universe is choosing,” he replied calmly.

The man stopped walking and turned to face him, his gaze sharp and apprehensive. “No, it’s the path you’re choosing. The universe may call for it, but for the sake of our kind—and for your innocent son’s future—perhaps this is a call you shouldn’t answer. We call ourselves Planksions because, together, we fortify our society, building a structure that endures. That is why we bear the eponymous name, Planks. Proud to be a part of something greater than ourselves. You know that as well as anyone.”

He glanced down at the baby nestled in Max's arms, his expression softening. “But this boy...he could tear us apart once more, just as the first one did. May the gods grant him mercy, whatever fate awaits him.”

The man slowly turned back around, and the two walked in silence to the Sanctum of Waters. When they reached the towering doors, ornately engraved with symbols representing each Planksion type, the man slowly pushed them open.

The Sanctum stretched high and wide, bathed in a soft, ethereal light that seemed to radiate from the walls themselves. Along each side of the chamber, stone basins of every imaginable shape and size held the waters for each Planksion type, each basin pulsing with its own unique color and energy. Some glowed a warm gold, others a rich blue or deep green, and a few even shimmered with shifting colors, as if the water itself were a living force.

Thin, metallic tendrils lined the edges of each basin, extending into the walls like veins, humming softly as they channeled the powers of each water type through the Sanctum. High above, a lattice of glowing filaments crisscrossed the ceiling, casting intricate patterns onto the floor below, resembling a starlit sky.

In the center of the room, an ancient tree stood tall and mighty, its silvered bark gleaming under the lights. The roots spread outward across the chamber, intertwining with the waters, as if binding each Planksion type together. Its translucent, jade-green leaves glowed softly, as though touched by some ancient magic. This tree was the heart of the Sanctum, symbolizing the unity and balance of all Planksion powers.

As Max and the man stepped inside, a resonant hum filled the air—a blend of advanced technology and ancient life that pulsed and echoed through the walls.

“Welcome back to the Sanctum of Waters,” the white-haired man murmured as they moved further into the vast chamber.

“Back?” Max chuckled softly. “I’ve never been here before.”

The man’s gaze remained steady as they continued their walk. “Every Planksion visits a Sanctum of Waters at least once in their lives—when they are born.”

Max’s eyes drifted over each basin lining the hall, marveling at the symbols etched above them, each one representing the creature the waters came from. He recognized wolves, gryphons, axolotls, phantoms, and many more, their water glowing with distinct colors and a soft energy that felt almost alive.

They circled the ancient tree, its branches stretching upward like a silent guardian watching over the sanctum until they reached the very back of the chamber. There, isolated from the others, sat a single basin unlike any Max had seen yet. Its waters swirled with an array of colors, shifting and blending like restless liquid stardust. Carved into the front was the emblem of a creature that looked like a dragon with fur, its single eye colored in a piercing shade of vibrant teal.

“This,” the man said, his voice low with reverence, “is the Water of the Reapers. Lay the boy gently on his back, and let the water flow over him. When the transformation completes, he will be a Reaperplanks.”

Max took a deep breath and began to position his son, preparing to lower him into the shimmering water. But the man extended his arm beneath the purple ceremonial robes and placed a firm hand on Max’s shoulder.

“Before you proceed, I urge you to reconsider. The legacy of the Reaperplanks is…grim. You cannot truly fathom what potential you will unlock.”

Max’s expression hardened as he met the old man’s gaze. “I’ve read the history. I know exactly what Reaperplanks have done in the past. But my son will be different—he’s not going to become a mindless weapon.”

The old man’s eyes searched Max’s, his concern still hanging heavy in the air like a sword on a thin thread above his head. “And how can you be so certain?”

Max’s jaw tightened. “I can’t be sure. Only time will tell.”

With steady hands, Max laid his son onto the water's surface. The liquid lapped gently over the child who lay peacefully as if cradled. Suddenly, the water flashed into a vibrant, brilliant blue, casting light across the entire room in a moving mosaic of caustic curving waves. Max watched in awe as his son’s left side transformed into a bright lime green, while one of his eyes shifted into a piercing, deep red.

Max chuckled softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, would you look at that—mismatched eyes, just like his old man.”

Max gently lifted Reaper from the basin, wrapping him carefully in the towel the man offered out from beneath his robe. As he dried his son off, he felt a swell of pride and a strange mix of excitement and uncertainty. Max, holding Reaper, following behind the white-haired man, made his way back to Sophia's room. Upon arrival, the old man gave a nod and departed quietly, leaving Max to gently knock on the door.

“Come in,” Sophia called, her voice filled with anticipation. Max entered, his face brightening as he saw her again, and he carried Reaper over with a proud smile. “Here he is, a full-fledged Reaperplanks,” he said softly.

Sophia’s eyes filled with wonder and tears as she took in their son’s new features. “He’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She noticed his eyes and gasped, smiling even brighter. “He has your eyes and mine. One blue eye, just like me, and mismatched like his dad.”

Max chuckled, brushing a gentle finger over Reaper’s small hand. Suddenly, another knock sounded at the door, and both parents exchanged a surprised glance—they hadn’t expected any visitors so soon.

“Come in,” Max called, his tone cautious.

The door opened, revealing General Gryphonplanks Saladin, Max’s commanding officer and trusted mentor. The General was a formidable figure, his tall, muscular frame hinting at years of disciplined training. With piercing amber eyes set beneath strong brows and silver-streaked, midnight-black hair pulled back neatly, he looked every bit as sharp as the creature he was named after. His facial features held a hawk-like intensity, but it was the subtle, leonine build and broad shoulders that gave him the unmistakable presence of a Gryphonplanks.

General Saladin carried himself with quiet authority, his every movement precise and deliberate, as though he embodied both the wisdom and strength of his Planksion type. He stepped into the room and, with a nod of respect to Sophia, turned his steady gaze toward Max.

“Max, Sophia,” he began, his voice low but steady. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I have some news that cannot wait.”

He paused, glancing briefly at Sophia before turning back to Max, his tone softening. “Could I have a moment with you outside?”

Max nodded, carefully passing Reaper back to Sophia before following General Saladin into the hallway. Once they were alone, the general took a deep breath, his normally stoic expression tinged with a rare sorrow.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’ll just come right out with it,” General Saladin said, his voice heavy with gravity. “We were scouring a nearby island after detecting an odd signal at the space communication and travel division. While we didn’t find what we were looking for, we did discover something else...your father.”

Max’s heart sank as the weight of the news settled in. “How did he get there? I know he travels a lot for work, but was he okay? Is he here right now?” His questions tumbled out in a frantic rush.

General Saladin lowered his gaze, the sorrow evident on his face. “I’m sorry to say he passed away earlier this morning. Not long after we found him. The time of his death was three forty-three.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “He expressed regret that he couldn’t be here for your boy’s birth.”

Max’s hand instinctively covered his mouth, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. He gently closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath as a tear slipped down his cheek.

“How did he die?” Max asked, his voice raw.

“We’re not certain,” General Saladin said gently. “There were no wounds. No signs of a struggle. Everything points to natural causes.” He paused. “He passed peacefully in his sleep.”

Max nodded once, swallowing hard. “Why was he there? He didn’t say?”

“He did not,” General Saladin replied. “But knowing him, it was likely work. A brief stop along the way.”

Max inhaled slowly, forcing the breath to steady. “Thank you, sir,” he said at last, the words barely holding together.

“My condolences, soldier,” General Saladin said, resting a hand on Max’s shoulder. “He was a good man.”

Max nodded. “That he was.” He smiled. “And you don’t have to call me ‘soldier,’ sir,” Max added quietly. “I’m a captain now.”

General Saladin managed a small smile. “Maybe so. But you’ll always be that bright-eyed new recruit to me.”

The attempt at levity landed gently—but didn’t lift the weight.

“And tell the missus I said congratulations,” General Saladin continued. “I should get back. The king’s getting more unhinged by the day.” He let out a soft chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.

Max couldn’t return it. He only shook his head slightly. “At this point, I’m tempted to stop being a toy soldier for a childish king and find something better to do than cleaning up his messes.”

General Saladin laughed under his breath. “I hear that,” General Saladin replied before turning to leave, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air.

Max turned to the hospital room door, taking one last deep breath to steady himself. He opened the door and took a seat beside Sophia, his heart heavy as he shared the devastating news. The impact of the loss hit her just as hard as it had him. They clung to each other and to baby Reaper, mourning the absence of his father together.

Later that day, friends and family began to arrive, eager to meet Reaper for the first time. Amidst the joy of new life, Max and Sophia felt a profound sense of pride as parents, even as the bittersweet sting of General Saladin's news lingered in the air. The day was a blend of joy and sorrow, a poignant reminder of love gained and love lost.

 

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