Gungnir Frost

Prologue

          Ten Years Later...

       "Hey, that's not fair!" Asmund Vanir called out as his twin sister, Ido, sprinted from 1st base directly to 3rd, ignoring 2nd base completely. Although barefooted on the rocky gravel lot behind the orphanage, she dashed with incredibly poise. Her golden hair flowed behind her, the dying rays of the mid-August sun catching her pretty face. Elfish, almost. Asmund had the same swooping eyebrows and handsome elfin face. They both shared deep, fathomless eyes of a sapphire hue. Both were clad in indigo shirts and the same safari style khaki shorts.

            Ido jogged over to where Asmund stood watching her with disapproving eyes.

            "You know you can't skip bases in kickball, Ido."

            Ido sighed and pushed a stray hair behind her ear. "I know that. I was just thinking about... well, you know what." Her usually crystalline eyes were staring off into the distance, a sure sign that she was thinking hard. Of course, Asmund knew what his sister was talking about. 10 years ago, they had been left, Mrs. Bummley had said, on the doorstep of her orphanage-alone. Now, for the first time in 3 years, "opportunistic happenings" were coming to see them at the orphanage. "Opportunistic happenings" were what Mrs. Bummley called parents- adopting parents, parents willing to take in children.

            "Yes, I was thinking about the same thing. Now, can we get back to our game? Remember, no shortcuts!" Asmund said, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. Ido nodded, knowing that while her twin seemingly brushed the matter aside, he was still thinking about it; but she decided to let it go. Why not have some fun while it lasts? She thought, nodding in response to Asmund and trotting over to 2nd base. After all, there's no telling what the "Opportunistic happenings" were like.

            The next morning, chaos erupted in the orphanage. Beds were slapped into order, children were rushed through the showers, and Mrs. Bummley spun like a whirlwind, dusting and cleaning.

            Thump thump thump! Asmund sprinted down the ancient wooden stairs two at a time. He passed several other orphans on the steps, but his mind was elsewhere- were the "opportunistic happenings" sitting in the paisley decked parlor right now, stroking the chins and cogitating over the files of the numerous children in the orphanage? In fact, he was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Mrs. Bummley at the bottom of the steps until he bounced of her formidable form.

            "Oooh, that hurt," she groaned, taking a step back. Asmund, seeing her armed with a fox tail duster and a serving ladle, also took step back. Mrs. Bummley, her homely but pleasant face framed by tan (Swiftly whitening, but she took a ladle to anyone who mentioned it) curls, placed a hand on the cherry wood banister to steady herself. "Hold... your horses... wheeze...whoohoo, but my, that hurt."

            "Sorry, Mrs. Bummley, wasn't watching where I was going." Asmund mumbled, straining to look over the headmistress's broad shoulders and into the parlor just across the hall.

            Mrs. Bummley began to advance on him, her cleaning utensil swinging menacingly in her plump hand.

            "Now you come with me, young man," she ordered. "I need help in the kitchens, and I'm sure the dust bunnies won't help."

            Asmund was panicking. How could he get Mrs. Bummley to move?

            "Excuse me, Mrs. Bummley; I need some help with something." The voice came from behind Mrs. Bummley, although Asmund couldn't see who it was who had saved him quite yet, as Mrs. Bummley was blocking the stairwell with her rather large bulk.