Dusk's Dawn Of Day

TWO

TWO

Dawn. My name was Dawn. The girl thought.

         Well, at least that’s what Dro said, well actually, at least that’s what her pendant said. The large man, Dro, and the three boys still stood before her. “Your name is-“ “Drogo.”

        He cut off. “It means Phantom. It’s my spirit name. Just as your’s is Dawn, the rising of the sun.” He spoke, carelessly, almost sounding without interest. “Where am I?”

        Her voice hoarse. “You’re in the Falgonia, child.” But she was certainly not a child. But, where is Falgonia? What is Falgonia? The young girl’s thoughts overwhelmed her “I see the confusion on your face, child. I will show you.” He spoke. With that, he turned, looked over his shoulder towards her, and hinted for her to follow. Dawn scurried out of the bed, dragging the sheets accidentally as she tripped while trying to recover. The three boys, stood there giggling in spite at my awkwardness. Of course, they would.

         The exit to the tent-ish homey, den, cave thing, whatever it was, was narrow. But Drogo lifted one side of the curtain and pulled it, as it expanded. It was still winter outside, but the winter seemed less harsh than it was before, it was calm, almost unreal. “Drogo, should we tell Captain?”

         “Yes, immediately.” Drogo spoke back to a boy, smaller than the three before, and he scurried off. Drogo leaded the girl to a pathway, leading towards a higher ground, possibly a mountain. The walk up this mountain was voiceless, Drogo never spoke once to the mysterious child, as he preferred to refer to her. But as they had reached the top, his voice was heard. “Look down on your people.”

         “My people?” She asked him. “Yes, your people.” Below them, was as they called it, “Quarry 4” around, in the shape of a large square was another mountain, and another, and another. Three others besides the one Drogo and the girl were on. And each mountain was closed off in a square, a fence, fencing off each quarry and their own mountain. It didn’t look natural really, to have four mountains un-connected. And fences inclosing all these separate groups of people, or “Quarries.” “Come on now, child. Get inside, we don’t want anyone seeing ya.”

         Drogo’s rough voice interrupted her convoluted thoughts, I don’t think I could ever get used to that voice of his, the girl, Dawn thought. When she had turned around, she had expected to see a little rundown shack, to what he was referring to as “Get Inside.”

        But no, It was a large and beautiful manor, with envious stain glass windows. “Hurry now, child.” Drogo forced her tiny body through the narrow doors. She could barely see at all, it was so evidently bright inside, brighter than it was outside. And it reflected rays of red, yellow, blue, green, from the stain glass. But  when she turned to look at this stain glass, her mouth dropped open in shock. Her eyes narrowing, pulling her eyebrows and furrowing them.

         It was her. It was her hair, that complicated shade of mahogany. That was red, but it wasn’t, it was brown, but it wasn’t.

        And yet, they got it.