<<<<<Chapter 1>>>>>
Dale Finnamore jumped out of his orphanage bed. He looked around to see if he had awakened any of the others. Everything was silent so he continued toward the window. Peering out he could see the dismal town of Knowington glowing in the light of the moon. He cautiously opened the window panes and leaned his head out. The clean air was invigorating.
With no freckles, Dales pale skin made him look like a ghost in the dim light. His mostly straight, dark brown hair made him look even lighter.
He took several steps back from the window, making sure not to step on a squeaky board. Pausing for a moment he looked around, then he began to walk towards the glass opening. His walking soon turned to running. Without a second thought, he jumped all the way through the second story window.
The first emotion he felt was fear, but it immediately turned to joy as he noticed that instead of falling down he was flying forward. The rush of air made him smile. This is what made the night so magical, the air. For an autumn night it was surprisingly warm, but the smell of adventure was all around.
Gliding along the lawn he reached out his hand and brushed the tips of the grass. They were wet with dew. He pulled up to avoid the oak tree, hearing the sound of frogs grow quieter as he flew upwards.
Higher he flew. Below him he could see the soft glow of candle light emulating from the town, while above, the soft white clouds beckoned him to go higher. He passed his first cloud, small in comparison to the ones he was still approaching. Nearby he could hear the honking of geese as they flew throughout the black sky, leaving the area before the first frost.
Dale was in complete and utter bliss. The twinkling in his eye was brighter than the stars themselves. He stretched out his arms as if to embrace the moon but then immediately stopped as he heard something. It was the sound of a bell... He paused for a moment then started again towards the white clouds.
It rang again. The third time it rang he noticed a different sensation, the clouds above him were growing smaller and smaller. He was falling. It took him a few moments to realize that he was about to hit the ground. Turning his head away from the sky and downward he saw rooftops growing closer. He had barely enough time to scream before impact.
NO! He had gone so far. This was his moment. A type of freedom he had dreamed of and he wasn’t going to let gravity steal it away from him.
He felt a sharp pain in his body for half a moment, but it instantly abated.
“Dale, you’re still asleep?” he heard a voice say, “Come on, your going to miss role call.”
He rolled in his sheets for a moment processing what his roommate was saying.
“Morning role call?” questioned Dale groggily, “Morning role call! I’m late!”
Dale rolled out of bed, threw on a shirt and scrambled to put on his pants. Tumbling down the steps of the old wooden building, he jumped in line with the other boys and girls.
Sixteen orphans, including Dale, all lived in the small house. Standing next to him was Kallin the talker. He wore a white button down shirt. Three of the buttons were missing, but he didn’t notice. Sarah was the bully. Rumor has it that the last family she lived with dumped her out on the street for back-talking. She wore dirty brown trousers with a shirt ripped at the sleeves. She would usually pick on poor Thomas. Thomas was the quiet one, always keeping to himself, some days he would disappear for hours just watching nature in solitude. He was short compared to the others. Then there was Nash. He was the trouble maker.
The Headmaster of the orphanage was an educated man. He ruled the orphanage with a caring heart one day and an iron first the next. His name was Jeff Stumpton. Ten years ago he opened up his home for the destitute orphans. He also housed two caretakers named Landon and Judy.
“Sarah,” called out Jeff.
“Present,” she responded.
“Kip.”
“Here”
“Dale,”
“Here”
“Nash”
No response...
“Nash.... Where the blazes is Nash Flarkin?” exclaimed Jeff.
“I heard something down near the pond,” responded Kallin, “I thought it was a deer at first but then I kept listening and I thought to myself maybe it wasn’t a deer because the way it sounded reminded me-”
“Thats enough Kallin,” Judy said rolling his eyes.
As he finished, the front door swung open and in walked Nash. His tanned skin was wet from head to toe. He was grinning
“Sorry I’m late.” Nash mumbled, “Dale you’ve got to try the pond, its still warm.”
“I think I’ll pass.” Dale said with a hint of sarcasm.
“Master Flarkin I hope you realize that not only have you interrupted morning role-call, but you have taken the liberty to soil your clothes and now you’re telling the other orphans to partake in you reckless behavior. This is the third time that you have disappointed me this month.” Jeff said beginning to look like a steamed lobster, “I want to see some more self respect from....”
After that, Dale stopped listening, but whatever Headmaster Jeff said managed to make him even more upset. Dale could see Nash’s smile getting bigger. He couldn’t help it, the way that Headmaster Jeff looked when he was mad was comical to say the least. The only thing that Dale did hear, though, was Jeff proclaim. “Thats it! You’ll be doing the chores of the other orphans for the rest of the day! Everyone else is dismissed.” Nash’s smile disappeared.
Everyone went to the classroom except Dale. Nash picked up a bucket of water and began mopping the floor. Dale stooped down to the bucket and picked up a brush.
“Was it worth it?” Dale asked.
“Absolutely, that water was pure bliss. I wish you were there.” Nash paused for a moment to think of something, “Dale you don’t have to be here. You did nothing wrong.”
“I know.” Dale said beginning to scrub. “You do have to admit the way Headmaster Jeff looked was hilarious.”
Nash almost smiled.
<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>
Knock! Knock! The tired front door sang.
“I’m coming,” Landon, the caretaker, said as he made his way towards the front of the orphanage. In his hurrying, he almost tripped over Dale, who was still cleaning the wood floor.
Peering through the window he could see a tall thin man. He stood very erect with almost an aristocratic look. He wore a leather jacket with small spikes on each side. His jacket was pinned with two small medals. On his belt were weapons of all shapes and sizes, mostly composed of knives. Landon knew this outfit very well, it was from the nation of Bledsworth.
Both of their eyes met through the pane of glass and Landon had no choice but to say something.
Dale could see Landon step outside and exchange words with the stranger. Almost immediately he returned, running up the rustic steps of the stairs. Dale and Nash passed a confused glance for a moment until Landon came down the steps with Headmaster Jeff. The headmaster swung the door open in a fury. Dale could see the stranger stand very still as he spoke to Jeff. He could tell that the headmaster was getting very perturbed by the Bledsworthians presence. Landon stood next to him as if bearing the lecture of an angry teacher.
Behind the aloof man stood even more people, all of which were wearing the same basic uniform. They looked tired and worn out, like Dale after a long days work. Something about the crowd of men made him shiver. Was it the way they looked that bothered Dale, or was it their deep staring eyes? He quickly looked away as a man glared at him through the glass pane.
The muffled sound of Jeff saying, “We don’t help anyone that wouldn’t help us,” could barely be heard as Dale strained his ear listening. The headmaster and caretaker came back inside as the strangers walked away. Dale felt glad that they were too far away to notice him staring. For some reason he also sensed a silent dread. The type of fear that you have when you outnumber a gang only to realize that in every corner and dark alleyway there are more thugs coming towards you.
Everything was silent in the orphanage except the low monotone sound of Jeff and Landon talking upstairs. Nash continued mopping the floor with a tired sponge. He suddenly looked up.
“What do you think that was about?” Nash asked in low voice, as if the ears of Bledsworth could hear them. “I’ve never seen a Bledsworthian around here before.”
“I’m not sure, but whatever it is it isn’t good.”
“I think that they wanted to set up camp.”
He didn’t respond. Dale couldn’t imagine living with soldiers. It felt impure and vile to even think of such a thing.
Dale got up and leaned his forehead against the window, catching the last glimpse of the soldiers before they disappeared into the forest leading out of Knowington.
‘They don’t even belong in Brondolia,’ thought Dale.