From Ashes

From Small Beginnings

***

So Patch, unaware of his true parentage, grew up in the small, underground town of Holm, safe from any prejudice, though that's not to say he wasn't aware of said prejudice. His foster parents were surprised, sure. When Mrs Chamberlynn heard a knock at her front door at 5 in the morning, she opened the door to find absolutely nothing in front of her. Shivering in the cold night air, she had been about to shut the door when she just happened to look down and found a baby in a basket tagged "Patch". So yes, they were surprised, but they loved Patch as if he were their own, which to all intents and purposes, he was. And so his childhood was happy and he lived well.

It was the fight with his girlfriend that drove him to sign up. She dumped him in the end, it was a massive knock to his confidence, and as he drank himself silly in that dingey little pub at the mouth of the cave his village resided in, he struggled to remember the girl's name, or even what she looked like come to think of it. What he did know however, was that she thought he wasn't good enough for her... but he would change that. So, still in a drunken haze, he bribed a friend to dye his hair violet, swaggered down to the Military Registry office, and signed himself up as a half blood (humans were strictly forbidden to join).

Only the next morning, when his best friend, the Sober Bunny kicked him in the face, did Patch Chamberlynn realise his awful mistake. By then of course it was too late. With his face settling into a perfect image of guilt and fear, he slunk down to breakfast to tell his oblivious foster parents the whole story...

Patch's legs were shaking so much that once or twice he almost fell down the stairs, and once or twice he considered hurling himself from the nearest window and running off to lands unknown far away from the whispers of war. But this idea was swiftly extinguished. Yes he intended fully to escape his dreadful fate, but as he saw his parents chatting merrily over breakfast, and the look of delight on his Mother's face to see him, he felt he at least owed these people an explanation. 

The idea of having to leave these people, possibly forever, chipped away at his heart like a pickeaxe at stone. It was a cruel and harsh turn of events, and it was all his fault. Only now, with the weight of the news he was about to deliver, did Patch fully appreciate every detail of his home. The morning light streamed in from the window, gracing every surface within reach with a soft, yellow light. A lump grew in Patch's throat so he busied himself for a while watching the dust dance in the flickering light before settling on the apple green kitchen benches. Flowers decked the kitchen cupboards and there were even some Spring daffodils in a vase on the small, round, maple dining table. This quirky, old, daft place was his home... and through his own stupidity he would soon have to part with it. The idea brought with it such a sadness that for a moment Patch was rendered speechless. It was only when Joice Chamberlynn encouraged her son that he eventually swallowed, inhaled deeply, and spoke.

"I have to leave," He stated simply, keeping it short lest his voice crack.

He could not have predicted his parent's reaction. His Father, James Chamberlynn, roared with laughter, heaved himself out of the chair, and waddled over to Patch, clapping him on the back firmly.

"Haha my boy, so you've found a girl to settle down with have you?! We were wondering when this day would come; I mean, 25 and never had a girlfriend? Who is she? What's she look like?" The man said.

Patch looked down at his Father, who was a good deal shorter than him and bit his lip. The man was nearing 60 and he was the owner of a very impressive pot belly, yet his face held no wrinkles, nor any signs of aging, bar the laugh lines and grey streaks in his dark hair. Patch looked between his Father and his Mother, who was also grinning widely at him, even more interested. Their son fully intended to tell them the whole story and he even opened his mouth to say it, but...

"Her name is Emily. She lives in France and I met her a few months ago when she came here on holiday. We've been corresponding ever since and I'm going to France to live with her," He stated, almost robotically. "I'll miss you both terribly," He added with immense truth. 

At this point, Joice rushed up to hug him and squeeled excitedly.

"That's lovely Patch! You must let us come and visit!" 

"Of course I will Mum," He managed to cholk out eventually.

A few hours later, Patch's bags were packed and he was ready to go to... well anywhere really, perhaps he could really go to France, and pray that his parents would forget about his promise to let them visit. However, once again, Patch's plans for life were altered as he reached Wickery Bridge  and two men stopped him in his tracks.

They were both at least six feet tall, muscular, and stern looking. One had deep red hair while the other one's hair didn't seem to want to settle on a single colour. Although it wasn't immediately clear, Patch felt he knew exactly why they were here. 

"Hi, I'm Edward and this is Jack. We're here to pick up the newest soldier," Said the one on the left sarcastically, a sinister smile forming on his long face.

Patch didn't have to be told twice. Faster than he ever had before, he turned in the opposite direction and began to run; but what he hadn't counted on was both men being faster than he was.

The last anyone heard of Patch in the little town of Holm was his tortured screaming as he was dragged along Wickery Bridge and hurled into the back of a pod-car.