November, 1997
Petunia here. I'm humoring Robin and contributing to this website. He's hugging me at the moment. This is the story about how I met Zelf Silvermane. It was the day after Halloween. . .
November 1st
I glanced at the headlines. They read: "Fourteen-year-old boy is left orphaned and homeless". I rolled my eyes. Poor guy. On Halloween too. . .
I started reading further because my interest was piqued. He was two years older than myself. Zelf Silvermane. His father was a famous blacksmith. Apparently Zelf had come to his house only to find his family murdered and his house on fire. He had rushed inside. . .
I stopped reading. That was horrible!
. . . Zelf had rushed inside to get his thirteenth birthday present: a full-length broadsword, beautifully crafted. Apparently he had also got some other personal items that were not specified. The funeral would be held at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning.
I wanted to go, even though I didn't know Zelf. I felt bad for him. His address wasn't very far from my shop, so I could go. He needed a friend, although it was very unlikely I would see him at the funeral. Apparently he could really hide if he wanted to.
I looked up to a knock on my door. I opened it. There stood a boy a year or two older than me. He had brown hair, a tan, and sad green eyes that were flecked with gold. He looked as if he had been crying. And he was cute.
'Hello, Apothecary, how may I help you?' Damn. I sounded like some dude who worked at McDonald's. I still needed to practice my greeting speech. My parents had left me the shop last week and I had had a grand total of one whole customer.
'I. . . um. . .' He looked like he would start crying again. I ushered him inside. Maybe he didn't need an apothecary, was new to the town, was out of his mind, had accidentally stepped through the wrong door, thought I was something great, misread the sign, wanted to find out what the fancy word on the front of my shop/house looked like, or something like that, but he still deserved a good cup of coffee or tea or something. He was crying, for heaven's sake!
'I. . . my name is Zelf. Zelf Silvermane.'
I stared at him.
He stared back at me hopefully. When I didn't do anything, his eyes started getting moist again.
I had to say something snappy, smart and intelligent to make him stop crying. Anything. He had pretty eyes. . . you wouldn't want them to get wet. Something snappy, smart and intelligent. . .
'. . . Oh.'
Well then.
'I. . . I'm sorry about what happened to your family.'
To my slight surprise, he got angry. 'That's none of your business!' he yelled. 'And that's none of their business either!' He pointed at the newspaper. This time he really started crying, burying his head in his hands.
I gently rubbed his shoulder, not exactly knowing what to do. I felt guilty.
'I'll go make you some tea, okay? Wait, tea or coffee?'
He looked up. 'Tea today, I think,' he whispered. I nodded and then headed towards the kitchen. 'You can sit down, Zelf.'
Zelf. His name sounded so smooth on my tongue. Zelf Silvermane. I mouthed it to myself. Smooth. I liked his name, I decided.
As I got the kettle ready, I kept an eye on Zelf. He wiped his eyes and took to looking at me. I didn't mind. A lot of people looked at me when they came to my shop. They weren't expecting one so young or something.
'I'm sorry,' I heard him say. 'I shouldn't have yelled.'
'No, you're right. They have no business in your private affairs.'
He shrugged slightly, then looked at the ground.
I went to sit next to him. 'The tea'll be ready soon,' I told him. He nodded. 'Thank you,' he said. We were quiet for a while, neither of us saying anything. Then Zelf broke the silence.
'So, what's your name?' he asked me.
'Petunia.'
'That's a pretty name.'
'Thanks.'
'How old are you?'
I looked at him oddly. 'Why?'
'You look a bit young to be running whatever this is.'
I was a bit miffed by that. 'An apothecary. I'm like a healer. And I deal with herbs.'
He nodded. 'Oh, I see. So?'
I sighed. 'I'm twelve.'
His eyebrows shot up.
I frowned. 'How old did you think I was?'
He looked at me before grinning. The golden specks in his eyes twinkled. 'Twelve.'
I rolled my eyes. 'My family left me this shop. It's brand new, even though it may not look it.'
He looked around. 'It's very cosy in here,' he said. 'It looks like a normal house. . . with extra-long. . . ironing boards?'
I laughed. 'Those are gurneys,' I said. 'Or just places for people to rest or lie while I tend to them.'
He nodded.
'So,' I said, realizing that he wanted me to continue my story. 'My family left me this shop, while they went to make business elsewhere.'
'Surely you don't miss them?' he said, examining me closely.
I shrugged. 'I miss them,' I said. 'But I'll get to see them every holiday. It'll be like boarding school. Plus, they only left last week.'
He nodded slowly. 'I see.'
Thus began my friendship with Zelf Silvermane.
November 2nd
Surprises of all surprises, I spotted Zelf at the funeral the day after. He was with this really big, scary, tough-looking muscly dude who looked uncomfortable.
Zelf spotted me and the corner of his lips lifted slightly. I guess he was glad to have me throughout this. I smiled back.
At then end of the funeral, Zelf made his way towards me. He looked sad, but not as if he was about to cry again.
'I'm late for school,' he said once he reached me. He grinned suddenly.
I raised an eyebrow. 'So am I, in fact.'
He nodded happily. 'Where do you go to school?'
I pointed to the palace in the distance. 'Believe it or not. . .'
He raised his eyebrows. 'The King wants me to attend,' he said. 'You know, now that I live with them. . .'
'What?!?'
November 8th
I was whistling cheerfully. Petunia was giving me funny looks. Maybe it was the fact that I was so happy only days after my family's dark demise.
After it had happened, I had run straight to Nabe and cried on him. I think that he had cried a bit too, but I'm not sure.
After that I was going back downtown, and these bunch of creepy people with cameras were looking for me. I therefore ran and hid into the nearest building that I could find, which happened to be Petunia's house/shop.
The day after that, Nabe and I went to the funeral. I didn't want to go, but Nabe said it would only be respectful and what would everyone think of me, it being my family and all?
I didn't care what everyone thought. It was my choice and none of their business, after all. But in the end Nabe persuaded me to go with him.
I didn't stay for the viewing. I left with Petunia. Nabe saw us and I waved goodbye to him before he went back to his cave. I felt bad for him, too, as well as myself. Now he didn't have any friends left except for me. And I don't count. I'm just a kid he's training, even if I am the kid of his best friend, who was now dead.
I stared at the back of Petunia's head. She had pure silver hair, like the Queen and Mommy. She also had bright blue eyes, a few, barely visible freckles dotting her cheeks and a fiery spirit. I liked her. It was good to have a friend around my age for once, especially after what had happened.
We had approached the palace. I saw the guards eye us almost suspiciously, and I held up the pass that the King had given me. It expired on my fifteenth birthday. That was when I decided if I wanted to leave or stay.
When a man/woman turns fifteen, it is his/her official growing up day. He or she can marry if they wish, but kids will have to wait until they are nineteen.
Ironically, getting a license was the human equivalent: age sixteen. So technically you could be married before you were allowed to get a car. Huh.
The King had picked the age where I would finally be able to take care of myself. Robin was ecstatic about me living with him. I hadn't told Robin yet, about what happened. I hoped that when he asked, someone else would be there to answer him for me.
We made our way through the halls till we reached Mrs. Anderson's room. Apparently Anderson was really mean. Too bad for her, then.
Petunia opened the door. I heard a few shouts, people calling her name. Then she stepped in. I nervously followed. My experiences with schools and other kids were never good. I wondered who the "bully" would be this time. The last talk I had had with a bully, one of us had ended up in the hospital, and the other with a black eye.
Nabe had taught me well. Even though I'm "scrawny".
The room was full of people from the age of ten to twenty. That was the wide category Anderson taught. Apparently they all learned the same thing. It was weekend school. I took a look around and immediately pitied Robin when he got older.
I stayed really close to Petunia. I saw other people staring at us and heard whispers. I didn't want them to get the wrong idea, but this place sorta scared me and I wanted to stick close to her.
I sat down next to her at a table on the side. Mrs. Anderson was nailing me with her glare, with icy grey eyes. I thought of Angie's eyes, then. They had turned from grey to the same colour as mine and Mommy's, right down to the last golden speck.
People were staring at us. More accurately, people were staring at me. Though I did hear a few whistles.
I shrank down in my seat. Anderson banged a stick on the board. 'Attention, class!'
I winced and felt even more sorry for Robin. I only had to endure six years of this. He had to deal with a full ten.
'As many of you have noticed,' Mrs. Anderson said once the class had sort of calmed down, 'We have a new student among us. Student. . .'
Please, no.
'. . . Please stand up and introduce yourself among us.'
Drat.
I stood up awkwardly. All eyes were boring holes in my skull.
'Hi. . . m-my name is Zelf--'
'Zelf who?'' Anderson thundered.
'S-Silvermane. . .'
Suddenly the whole room was quiet. You could have heard a fly drop dead.
Good. I'm glad they all read their daily share of newspaper.
Then the whispers started.
I sat down rather quickly while Anderson was trying to get the class to be as miraculously quiet as they had been a few moments before. Maybe she should tell them that her house had been burned down and that her family was murdered in cold blood. Worked for me.
Eventually the class calmed down. The rest of the class passed by leisurely.
Until Sunday.
November 9th
It happened after class. I was leaving, deciding to take a walk in the gardens.
I heard people following me.
Now, whenever I am transferred to a new class, it only takes around a week for the bullies to spot me and to try to beat me up. For multiple reasons:
1. I was a mix and they were frightfully racist.
2. My family wasn't the richest.
3. I was better-looking than them.
4. I attracted more girls than them.
5. They had heard about my trainer and thought I was a wimp and therefore they should beat me up before my reputation spread.
6. New kid. What can I say?
7. I got better grades than them.
It happened often enough, to say the least. I recognized the signs now. They thought that I couldn't hear them. They thought that they could take me by surprise, that after that I would plead and melt and bend to their will.
Boy, were they wrong.
'I can hear you, you know,' I said, while I kept walking.
Then they were surrounding me. I smirked at them. Yes, I had seen them before in class. Yes, I had seen this coming. No, they did not scare me. In the least.
They were circling me, deciding on the first course of action. The dude who seemed to be the leader stepped up.
'You don't belong here,' he said angrily to me. He cracked his knuckles threateningly.
I looked at him calmly. 'You know, you are more susceptible to get arthritis when you get older if you do that.' When I had told Nabe that, he had said that he didn't care and that he had lasted this long so far. I had to admit though, he did have a good point.
He scowled, but decided to ignore the comment. 'You don't belong here,' he repeated. 'Get out.'
'Now I can't very well do that, can I?' I said reasonably. 'I have no where else to go.'
He sneered at me. 'Go to the orphanage where you belong, mongrel. Your stupid family's dead, you'll never get a life, and the orphanage gives a hobo like you the slightest chance of actually getting someone to take pity on you and provide you with a clean underwear to wear each day.'
That was their first mistake. And their last one.
My eyes saw red. I clenched my jaw. I didn't even notice the slight humour that he had said "wear" twice. I was fuming, raging mad. And dangerous.
I struck out with my fist. The leader was out cold before he even knew what hit him. I took on the others with a roundhouse kick. They were around six of the entourage, but I was so angry that I didn't even have time to be flattered that they deemed me such a threat.
I got two of them with the kick. I could kick high. Nabe always said that I needed to stop using my legs so much and start using my arms more. I ignored him, of course.
I flipped on one of them and hit him K.O. with my knee. Three down, three to go.
I rolled my neck, hearing the satisfying cracks, and advanced on them. They got into a rather pathetic fighting position. I kicked the middle one in the chest, and while he was falling ran up him and struck out in the splits in the air, effectively disarming the other two.
I was done.
I turned around and examined my handiwork. Then someone clubbed me. Note to self: to knock someone out, kicking him in the chest just won't cut it.
He pinned my arms behind me. I struggled but could do nothing. Nabe always said that my back was my weakest point. He said that it was common among young teenage wimps like myself. Coming from Nabe, that was almost a compliment. Nabe hardly ever complimented me. Even on my birthday.
I felt something ram into my back, hard. I almost rolled my eyes. Way to harass my spinal cord.
Then he threw me against the fence and kicked me in the chest.
On any occasion, I usually did not like getting tastes of my own medicine. Come to think of it, I didn't like medicine of any kind (mothers are bothers).
As I was laying/sitting/slumping there, gasping/sucking/wheezing for breath, with spots dancing in front of my eyes and my vision obscured, I heard sounds of a struggle.
This surprised me because usually I was the one who was either beating people up or, in most cases, getting beat up. So I blinked the spots out of my eyes and watched curiously.
There was this man. He was a Miner, I noticed at once. He looked like a guard, or some advanced sort of guard (not by his looks, duh. By the patterns and the stripes on his jacket). He was holding the bully by his collar and shaking him. Then more guards ran up.
'Take them away,' the leader dude ordered. The guards obeyed. Then the leader dude turned to me.
'Are you alright, Zelf?'
I blinked in confusion. How did he know my name?
He nodded thoughtfully, then offered me a hand up. I took it and he pulled me up.
'William, captain of the guard, at your service, Sir.'
I stared at him blankly. I was no Sir Anybody. What happened to just "Zelf"? Was my name really that hideous?
He bowed when I didn't say anything, and repeated his first question. 'Are you alright?'
'I-I'm fine, thanks,' I muttered.
'Did you. . . did you take out all these boys by yourself?'
I nodded numbly.
He nodded, satisfied. 'Call me if you ever land in trouble again, alright?'
I nodded quickly. 'Yes, Sir.'
He chuckled. 'I'm no Sir to you, Zelf. You're the King's guest. Until you turn fifteen, that is. Then we'll see about your status.' He saluted smartly and walked off, leading me to think about his last comment.
I nodded, mumbling to myself and running into walls. Soon enough I found a side door to the palace, and sort of felt my way through.
I was running blindly through the halls, looking for a kitchen. Unfortunately, I was looking to my side and not in front of me. I ran right into a servant girl.
'I. . . oh, so sorry,' I mumbled. She seemed to be a few years older than me. She smiled. 'It's alright,' she said. 'Are you Zelf?'
Everyone here knew my name. Creepy.
'Yeah,' I said.
She held out her hand. 'Annabel,' she said. 'But you can just call me Ann.'
'Annie!' said a small voice. I looked behind me and saw a little kid running up. 'Ice cream!' said Robin.
I shook hands with Annie and turned to Robin. He puffed up his chest.
'Zef new here, Annie,' he said. 'He coming to live with us for ever and ever and ever and ever. . .'
I smiled. 'Maybe not that long,' I said. 'But in the meanwhile--'
'And I show him around!' Robin said, completely ignoring me.
Annie nodded, amused with us.
'An' so,' Robin paused. 'We go eat ice cream first!'
Annie laughed. 'Is that so?' she said. 'Alright then. Come on, Zelf.'
Apparently Annie owned an ice cream shop that was situated right down the hallway. The palace had an awfully long hallway. It should be a train when it grew up.
So we had ice cream, and Robin introduced me to other people. Yoshiba was the head cook. Something about her reminded me of a car, but I hadn't the slightest idea what. She was chubby.
My room was opposite Robin's. It was huge.
Apparently Robin's was bigger still, but I was too busy noticing the hugeness of my room to deal with that. The room itself wasn't that big, around the size of a motel room. But it had a bathroom attached to the end of a corridor!!!! That may not sound like much, but my room back home was a lot smaller.
Home. I wondered if I would ever learn to call this place that. . .
November 1st
I glanced at the headlines. They read: "Fourteen-year-old boy is left orphaned and homeless". I rolled my eyes. Poor guy. On Halloween too. . .
I started reading further because my interest was piqued. He was two years older than myself. Zelf Silvermane. His father was a famous blacksmith. Apparently Zelf had come to his house only to find his family murdered and his house on fire. He had rushed inside. . .
I stopped reading. That was horrible!
. . . Zelf had rushed inside to get his thirteenth birthday present: a full-length broadsword, beautifully crafted. Apparently he had also got some other personal items that were not specified. The funeral would be held at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning.
I wanted to go, even though I didn't know Zelf. I felt bad for him. His address wasn't very far from my shop, so I could go. He needed a friend, although it was very unlikely I would see him at the funeral. Apparently he could really hide if he wanted to.
I looked up to a knock on my door. I opened it. There stood a boy a year or two older than me. He had brown hair, a tan, and sad green eyes that were flecked with gold. He looked as if he had been crying. And he was cute.
'Hello, Apothecary, how may I help you?' Damn. I sounded like some dude who worked at McDonald's. I still needed to practice my greeting speech. My parents had left me the shop last week and I had had a grand total of one whole customer.
'I. . . um. . .' He looked like he would start crying again. I ushered him inside. Maybe he didn't need an apothecary, was new to the town, was out of his mind, had accidentally stepped through the wrong door, thought I was something great, misread the sign, wanted to find out what the fancy word on the front of my shop/house looked like, or something like that, but he still deserved a good cup of coffee or tea or something. He was crying, for heaven's sake!
'I. . . my name is Zelf. Zelf Silvermane.'
I stared at him.
He stared back at me hopefully. When I didn't do anything, his eyes started getting moist again.
I had to say something snappy, smart and intelligent to make him stop crying. Anything. He had pretty eyes. . . you wouldn't want them to get wet. Something snappy, smart and intelligent. . .
'. . . Oh.'
Well then.
'I. . . I'm sorry about what happened to your family.'
To my slight surprise, he got angry. 'That's none of your business!' he yelled. 'And that's none of their business either!' He pointed at the newspaper. This time he really started crying, burying his head in his hands.
I gently rubbed his shoulder, not exactly knowing what to do. I felt guilty.
'I'll go make you some tea, okay? Wait, tea or coffee?'
He looked up. 'Tea today, I think,' he whispered. I nodded and then headed towards the kitchen. 'You can sit down, Zelf.'
Zelf. His name sounded so smooth on my tongue. Zelf Silvermane. I mouthed it to myself. Smooth. I liked his name, I decided.
As I got the kettle ready, I kept an eye on Zelf. He wiped his eyes and took to looking at me. I didn't mind. A lot of people looked at me when they came to my shop. They weren't expecting one so young or something.
'I'm sorry,' I heard him say. 'I shouldn't have yelled.'
'No, you're right. They have no business in your private affairs.'
He shrugged slightly, then looked at the ground.
I went to sit next to him. 'The tea'll be ready soon,' I told him. He nodded. 'Thank you,' he said. We were quiet for a while, neither of us saying anything. Then Zelf broke the silence.
'So, what's your name?' he asked me.
'Petunia.'
'That's a pretty name.'
'Thanks.'
'How old are you?'
I looked at him oddly. 'Why?'
'You look a bit young to be running whatever this is.'
I was a bit miffed by that. 'An apothecary. I'm like a healer. And I deal with herbs.'
He nodded. 'Oh, I see. So?'
I sighed. 'I'm twelve.'
His eyebrows shot up.
I frowned. 'How old did you think I was?'
He looked at me before grinning. The golden specks in his eyes twinkled. 'Twelve.'
I rolled my eyes. 'My family left me this shop. It's brand new, even though it may not look it.'
He looked around. 'It's very cosy in here,' he said. 'It looks like a normal house. . . with extra-long. . . ironing boards?'
I laughed. 'Those are gurneys,' I said. 'Or just places for people to rest or lie while I tend to them.'
He nodded.
'So,' I said, realizing that he wanted me to continue my story. 'My family left me this shop, while they went to make business elsewhere.'
'Surely you don't miss them?' he said, examining me closely.
I shrugged. 'I miss them,' I said. 'But I'll get to see them every holiday. It'll be like boarding school. Plus, they only left last week.'
He nodded slowly. 'I see.'
Thus began my friendship with Zelf Silvermane.
November 2nd
Surprises of all surprises, I spotted Zelf at the funeral the day after. He was with this really big, scary, tough-looking muscly dude who looked uncomfortable.
Zelf spotted me and the corner of his lips lifted slightly. I guess he was glad to have me throughout this. I smiled back.
At then end of the funeral, Zelf made his way towards me. He looked sad, but not as if he was about to cry again.
'I'm late for school,' he said once he reached me. He grinned suddenly.
I raised an eyebrow. 'So am I, in fact.'
He nodded happily. 'Where do you go to school?'
I pointed to the palace in the distance. 'Believe it or not. . .'
He raised his eyebrows. 'The King wants me to attend,' he said. 'You know, now that I live with them. . .'
'What?!?'
November 8th
I was whistling cheerfully. Petunia was giving me funny looks. Maybe it was the fact that I was so happy only days after my family's dark demise.
After it had happened, I had run straight to Nabe and cried on him. I think that he had cried a bit too, but I'm not sure.
After that I was going back downtown, and these bunch of creepy people with cameras were looking for me. I therefore ran and hid into the nearest building that I could find, which happened to be Petunia's house/shop.
The day after that, Nabe and I went to the funeral. I didn't want to go, but Nabe said it would only be respectful and what would everyone think of me, it being my family and all?
I didn't care what everyone thought. It was my choice and none of their business, after all. But in the end Nabe persuaded me to go with him.
I didn't stay for the viewing. I left with Petunia. Nabe saw us and I waved goodbye to him before he went back to his cave. I felt bad for him, too, as well as myself. Now he didn't have any friends left except for me. And I don't count. I'm just a kid he's training, even if I am the kid of his best friend, who was now dead.
I stared at the back of Petunia's head. She had pure silver hair, like the Queen and Mommy. She also had bright blue eyes, a few, barely visible freckles dotting her cheeks and a fiery spirit. I liked her. It was good to have a friend around my age for once, especially after what had happened.
We had approached the palace. I saw the guards eye us almost suspiciously, and I held up the pass that the King had given me. It expired on my fifteenth birthday. That was when I decided if I wanted to leave or stay.
When a man/woman turns fifteen, it is his/her official growing up day. He or she can marry if they wish, but kids will have to wait until they are nineteen.
Ironically, getting a license was the human equivalent: age sixteen. So technically you could be married before you were allowed to get a car. Huh.
The King had picked the age where I would finally be able to take care of myself. Robin was ecstatic about me living with him. I hadn't told Robin yet, about what happened. I hoped that when he asked, someone else would be there to answer him for me.
We made our way through the halls till we reached Mrs. Anderson's room. Apparently Anderson was really mean. Too bad for her, then.
Petunia opened the door. I heard a few shouts, people calling her name. Then she stepped in. I nervously followed. My experiences with schools and other kids were never good. I wondered who the "bully" would be this time. The last talk I had had with a bully, one of us had ended up in the hospital, and the other with a black eye.
Nabe had taught me well. Even though I'm "scrawny".
The room was full of people from the age of ten to twenty. That was the wide category Anderson taught. Apparently they all learned the same thing. It was weekend school. I took a look around and immediately pitied Robin when he got older.
I stayed really close to Petunia. I saw other people staring at us and heard whispers. I didn't want them to get the wrong idea, but this place sorta scared me and I wanted to stick close to her.
I sat down next to her at a table on the side. Mrs. Anderson was nailing me with her glare, with icy grey eyes. I thought of Angie's eyes, then. They had turned from grey to the same colour as mine and Mommy's, right down to the last golden speck.
People were staring at us. More accurately, people were staring at me. Though I did hear a few whistles.
I shrank down in my seat. Anderson banged a stick on the board. 'Attention, class!'
I winced and felt even more sorry for Robin. I only had to endure six years of this. He had to deal with a full ten.
'As many of you have noticed,' Mrs. Anderson said once the class had sort of calmed down, 'We have a new student among us. Student. . .'
Please, no.
'. . . Please stand up and introduce yourself among us.'
Drat.
I stood up awkwardly. All eyes were boring holes in my skull.
'Hi. . . m-my name is Zelf--'
'Zelf who?'' Anderson thundered.
'S-Silvermane. . .'
Suddenly the whole room was quiet. You could have heard a fly drop dead.
Good. I'm glad they all read their daily share of newspaper.
Then the whispers started.
I sat down rather quickly while Anderson was trying to get the class to be as miraculously quiet as they had been a few moments before. Maybe she should tell them that her house had been burned down and that her family was murdered in cold blood. Worked for me.
Eventually the class calmed down. The rest of the class passed by leisurely.
Until Sunday.
November 9th
It happened after class. I was leaving, deciding to take a walk in the gardens.
I heard people following me.
Now, whenever I am transferred to a new class, it only takes around a week for the bullies to spot me and to try to beat me up. For multiple reasons:
1. I was a mix and they were frightfully racist.
2. My family wasn't the richest.
3. I was better-looking than them.
4. I attracted more girls than them.
5. They had heard about my trainer and thought I was a wimp and therefore they should beat me up before my reputation spread.
6. New kid. What can I say?
7. I got better grades than them.
It happened often enough, to say the least. I recognized the signs now. They thought that I couldn't hear them. They thought that they could take me by surprise, that after that I would plead and melt and bend to their will.
Boy, were they wrong.
'I can hear you, you know,' I said, while I kept walking.
Then they were surrounding me. I smirked at them. Yes, I had seen them before in class. Yes, I had seen this coming. No, they did not scare me. In the least.
They were circling me, deciding on the first course of action. The dude who seemed to be the leader stepped up.
'You don't belong here,' he said angrily to me. He cracked his knuckles threateningly.
I looked at him calmly. 'You know, you are more susceptible to get arthritis when you get older if you do that.' When I had told Nabe that, he had said that he didn't care and that he had lasted this long so far. I had to admit though, he did have a good point.
He scowled, but decided to ignore the comment. 'You don't belong here,' he repeated. 'Get out.'
'Now I can't very well do that, can I?' I said reasonably. 'I have no where else to go.'
He sneered at me. 'Go to the orphanage where you belong, mongrel. Your stupid family's dead, you'll never get a life, and the orphanage gives a hobo like you the slightest chance of actually getting someone to take pity on you and provide you with a clean underwear to wear each day.'
That was their first mistake. And their last one.
My eyes saw red. I clenched my jaw. I didn't even notice the slight humour that he had said "wear" twice. I was fuming, raging mad. And dangerous.
I struck out with my fist. The leader was out cold before he even knew what hit him. I took on the others with a roundhouse kick. They were around six of the entourage, but I was so angry that I didn't even have time to be flattered that they deemed me such a threat.
I got two of them with the kick. I could kick high. Nabe always said that I needed to stop using my legs so much and start using my arms more. I ignored him, of course.
I flipped on one of them and hit him K.O. with my knee. Three down, three to go.
I rolled my neck, hearing the satisfying cracks, and advanced on them. They got into a rather pathetic fighting position. I kicked the middle one in the chest, and while he was falling ran up him and struck out in the splits in the air, effectively disarming the other two.
I was done.
I turned around and examined my handiwork. Then someone clubbed me. Note to self: to knock someone out, kicking him in the chest just won't cut it.
He pinned my arms behind me. I struggled but could do nothing. Nabe always said that my back was my weakest point. He said that it was common among young teenage wimps like myself. Coming from Nabe, that was almost a compliment. Nabe hardly ever complimented me. Even on my birthday.
I felt something ram into my back, hard. I almost rolled my eyes. Way to harass my spinal cord.
Then he threw me against the fence and kicked me in the chest.
On any occasion, I usually did not like getting tastes of my own medicine. Come to think of it, I didn't like medicine of any kind (mothers are bothers).
As I was laying/sitting/slumping there, gasping/sucking/wheezing for breath, with spots dancing in front of my eyes and my vision obscured, I heard sounds of a struggle.
This surprised me because usually I was the one who was either beating people up or, in most cases, getting beat up. So I blinked the spots out of my eyes and watched curiously.
There was this man. He was a Miner, I noticed at once. He looked like a guard, or some advanced sort of guard (not by his looks, duh. By the patterns and the stripes on his jacket). He was holding the bully by his collar and shaking him. Then more guards ran up.
'Take them away,' the leader dude ordered. The guards obeyed. Then the leader dude turned to me.
'Are you alright, Zelf?'
I blinked in confusion. How did he know my name?
He nodded thoughtfully, then offered me a hand up. I took it and he pulled me up.
'William, captain of the guard, at your service, Sir.'
I stared at him blankly. I was no Sir Anybody. What happened to just "Zelf"? Was my name really that hideous?
He bowed when I didn't say anything, and repeated his first question. 'Are you alright?'
'I-I'm fine, thanks,' I muttered.
'Did you. . . did you take out all these boys by yourself?'
I nodded numbly.
He nodded, satisfied. 'Call me if you ever land in trouble again, alright?'
I nodded quickly. 'Yes, Sir.'
He chuckled. 'I'm no Sir to you, Zelf. You're the King's guest. Until you turn fifteen, that is. Then we'll see about your status.' He saluted smartly and walked off, leading me to think about his last comment.
I nodded, mumbling to myself and running into walls. Soon enough I found a side door to the palace, and sort of felt my way through.
I was running blindly through the halls, looking for a kitchen. Unfortunately, I was looking to my side and not in front of me. I ran right into a servant girl.
'I. . . oh, so sorry,' I mumbled. She seemed to be a few years older than me. She smiled. 'It's alright,' she said. 'Are you Zelf?'
Everyone here knew my name. Creepy.
'Yeah,' I said.
She held out her hand. 'Annabel,' she said. 'But you can just call me Ann.'
'Annie!' said a small voice. I looked behind me and saw a little kid running up. 'Ice cream!' said Robin.
I shook hands with Annie and turned to Robin. He puffed up his chest.
'Zef new here, Annie,' he said. 'He coming to live with us for ever and ever and ever and ever. . .'
I smiled. 'Maybe not that long,' I said. 'But in the meanwhile--'
'And I show him around!' Robin said, completely ignoring me.
Annie nodded, amused with us.
'An' so,' Robin paused. 'We go eat ice cream first!'
Annie laughed. 'Is that so?' she said. 'Alright then. Come on, Zelf.'
Apparently Annie owned an ice cream shop that was situated right down the hallway. The palace had an awfully long hallway. It should be a train when it grew up.
So we had ice cream, and Robin introduced me to other people. Yoshiba was the head cook. Something about her reminded me of a car, but I hadn't the slightest idea what. She was chubby.
My room was opposite Robin's. It was huge.
Apparently Robin's was bigger still, but I was too busy noticing the hugeness of my room to deal with that. The room itself wasn't that big, around the size of a motel room. But it had a bathroom attached to the end of a corridor!!!! That may not sound like much, but my room back home was a lot smaller.
Home. I wondered if I would ever learn to call this place that. . .