Master, my Master | boyxboy | (Book One: The Master Collection)

Enchantment - I

Brimonhive, England

September 1827

"See you tomorrow, lad," Mr. Bran waved, taking with him his filthy long brooms and ladder. After a treacherous day of work sweeping chimneys with his young assistant, Elijah Goode, the man was headed through the town of Brimonhive back home.

"Goodbye," Elijah smiled to the man, his own working broom propped upon his small shoulder, and when he turned away from the older man, he rolled his emerald green eyes with a huff. "I hate this stupid job," he mumbled, and then he was off to his home as well.

Being just eleven years of age, he'd been working with Mr. Bran since he was five, and while the labor was horrendous on his joints and hands, and not to mention his aching back, it was a job he had to do in order to help his mother and father. Still rather small for his age, this line of work fit him perfectly. In these times, after all, he hadn't much of a choice but to work no matter the job.

As he walked the cobblestoned streets of Brimonhive, Elijah smiled to the clusters of other little boys kicking a beaten ball around. Buggies and horses were moving along beside him, and he ran a charred, stained hand through his rose red hair when a gust of muggy wind hurried by. His skin was naturally fair, a bit tanned from the sun, but after work days like this, it left him just about covered in a grey soot from head to toe. Needless to say, his clothing always looked rather shabby even after a wash.

With other villagers bustling about, Elijah slipped through all the commotion and set foot on a dirt road out towards his home.

He and his mother and father lived in a two-bedroom hobble near a farm, and to reach the houses out that way, one had to cross through a woodland path. As he walked alone beneath the tree domed shade, he whistled and thought of his mother's cooking. With his mouthwatering already, he hoped she would have something on the table for when he got home, perhaps a pie. Cherry was his favorite, and he was sure his father wouldn't be there when he arrived. The man worked as a blacksmith two villages over, so his long days away and travel gave him hassle when returning home.

No matter, Elijah figured. That only meant he'd be gifted with the first slice of whatever delicious treat his mother whipped up at home! As he continued, Elijah walked for several more minutes, the evening hue of the sun beginning to retract its light from the shady path all around him.

With his own long broom over his shoulder, the young boy pointed it out in front of him, swinging it about as though it were a jousting lance. For a boy his age, it was only right to have an active imagination. He loved to play with the other children not far from his own home, that is, he liked to play with them when he had the time. They brandished sticks for swords, chased chickens and hares through the fields back home, and boy was it fun!

Since it would be night by the time he got there, Elijah was sure he wouldn't have the time to run about outdoors. Besides, even with being eleven years old, he was still quite afraid of the dark. Yet, he did like to imagine that was his only fear. Darkness brought uncertainty.

"Ah!" he heard then, an abrupt, fearful scream that filled him with fright. It sounded as though it'd come from a small child up the path, and Elijah froze there when the animalistic growl of a canine followed suit.

The scream of terror shook him where he stood, but Elijah found himself moving anyway, running around the bend in the dirt road until he spotted where the shriek had originated from.

Before him, Elijah stared towards a young, blonde-haired boy who'd fallen back onto his bottom. He looked no older than ten, petite and petrified as a massive grey-furred wolf crouched in front of him. Elijah could see the blonde boy was bleeding from his right forearm, a gash clawed into him as it seemed the wolf had pounced but once. Tearful and afraid, the small boy did nothing but tremble as the beast stalked closer to him.