Alright, I said, in the second chapter, or it might have been
this one, that I would go back and make some changes.
Seeing as I can't find anyway to fix what has already been damaged,
then I've changed the things that have been mentioned in my reviews.
Hopefully this makes things a bit more.... easier to follow.

Divided Resolve

Chapter 1

From Dreams To The Present

Whack! Whack!

These were sounds heard many times through out the rooms of the old orphanage.

There was no stopping it, or trying to prevent it, sooner or lader, the caretaker would

haul ONE of them off for some petty infraction. Something such as, maybe,
talking out of turn, or maybe even trying to talk back to some of the higher ups.

All in all, it was a fairly normal day. Amaris sighed as Harry came stumbling from
Mr. Peters' office. Harry was his favorite. No doubt because of the way Harry
casually held his head high, or the way he walked, or it could be the way he refused
to back down, even though it would save him from losing blood. Amaris sighed.

Harry looked up and glared harshly. "What?" Amaris sighed again.

"You've got to stop antagonizing him, it'll save you a lot of trouble." Harry
scowled. "It's his fault, maybe if he would stop being such a grouchy old bastard
then I wouldn't have to antagonize him!" Amaris sighed again," Couldn't you keep
your nose clean for one day? It's my last day here, and I'd appreciate not having to
rub cream into your back." Harry's expression softened.

"Do you really have to go?"

Amaris nodded. Harry gave her a hug, and slipped something into her pocket.

Curious, she pulled it out, and found a 20 pound note. "Harry! Where did you get this?"

Harry smirked, "I grabbed it off of Mr. Peters desk as he was talking on the phone,"
Amaris groaned, "He'll have your ass for this, you know?" Harry shrugged.

"He won't do anything, he may be a right old bastard, but he's not a gay pedophile,
although, he does need to get laid every now and then, maybe then he'd have some of
his hair left."
Amaris laughed. The smile slowly faded from her face as a shadow fell over them.
She turned around to find Mr. Peters looming over them with a threatening grin on his
face.

"So," he drawled, "your last day here, Amari?" Annoyance spiked at the back of her head,
no one called her Amari, not even Harry, who was, loathe as she was to admit it, her best, and
only friend.

Mr. Peters took a step, she did the same, only in reverse. The residents of the
orphanage watched in horrid fascination, they knew where this always ended up. Each
person who got adopted, or sold, depending on the person who came to pick them up looked
like, Mr. Peters gave them a present. You had to accept it, there was no if, ands, or buts about it.

For the boys, it was a beating, for the girls, he did numerous things, he could give them
"toys", or he could shove one of those "toys" up some place.

Depends on how he feels.

Amaris' face paled, and Harry growled threateningly. Mr. Peters turned to him. "You best keep
your hackles down, boy. You already got a beating, you don't need another."

Harry's green eyes flashed with anger and humiliation.
"If you touch one hair on her body-" he started, but he was interrupted by Amaris.

"Harry! Shut-" But she, in turn, was interrupted by Mr. Peters.
"BOY! How DARE you speak to me in that tone!?" He moved so quick, you would almost
believed Harry tripped, but he sent Harry sprawling accross the floor. Spitting the blood out of his mouth,
he smirked. "That the best you got old man!?" Mr. Peters growled, and then the door bell rang. Fixing Harry
with a cold stare that clearly meant, 'I'll deal with you later', he went and answered the door.

Amaris gave Harry a look of appreciation and anger. "What the hell did you do that for?" she hissed, "now
you're really gonna get messed up!" Harry growled in irritation, "Shut up. You know what he would have
done to you, this me saving your ass." Amaris was about to say something back when an arm grabbed her roughly.
It was Mr. Peters, and he was dragging her towards the man waiting at the door.

In that instant, Harry, just by looking at the man, knew he had to do something.

But nothing could be done at that moment, except for maybe
one thing....

Running up to her as quickly as he can, he slipped a knife into her pocket, and with a whispered "in case
they get too frisky" tripped over his shoes and squarely punched the man in the nuts.

Harry had perfected this manuever over the course of many years, having seen many of the people he would
like to call friends, being hauled off with some random pedophile or stranger. As the man doubled over in pain,
Mr. Peters backhanded Harry.

With the taste of blood once more filling his mouth, and feeling dazed, he came

up with the quickest plan he could at that moment, he quickly drew the spare knife while running towards the door. Mr. Peters

growled with irritation, and attempted to stop him. Harry jabbed the knife as deeply as he could into his arm,

grabbed Amaris, and ran. Amaris, quickly getting over such stupidity, regained control and ran with him.

They ran, as fast as they could, but she, having spent less time there then Harry, and not having as much athletic
ability, started to get fatigued. Harry looked back, and saw a car chasing them. "Come on!"
Amaris glared, and tried, and failed, to catch up. Harry, having had enough, picked her up and started running
towards a lone alleyway.

As they turned a corner they bumped into a man and was sent sprawling. The car, having caught up with
them, screeched to a sudden stop.
The man got out of the car, and chuckled cheerfully, not noticing the man the kids had bumped into.

He looked at Amaris, and said one thing. "I regret, spending money on you," and, the smile neverleaving his face,
pulled out a gun. Harry saw red, he knew he couldn't make it, but he tried anyways, he ran, and he dove, but,
with human muscle being no match for a bullet being fired from a gun at gods know how many miles per hour, he
simply never made it in time. Blood spattered the alleyway wall.

Harry, had he had a clear mind at the time, and had he
not just seen his best friend shot, and most likely killed in front of him, would have been interested in such a
powerful gun.

These were different circumstances, however, so, while not being able to stop the pedophile from
firing the gun, he certainly WAS fast enough to get up close to him and punch him square in the gut.
Harry, had a few things many other fourteen year olds didn't, he had pride, he had an uncanny will to live,
but he also had an innate anger and darkness inside of him, born from being abandoned by his
parents, and from having lived in that godforsaken orphanage since he could remember. Which also
raised a complete lack of reguard towards human life.

However, at this moment, he had punched the pedophile in the gut, kneed him in the face, and was proceeding
to beat him to death. It was at this moment that the other man, who, interestingly enough, had chosen to sit
by while this was all happen, decided to intervene. Grabbing Harry, he pulled him off of the other man and threw him to
the floor. Checking the man's pulse, he was shocked cold to discover that the man had no pulse. Turning around,
he looked at the young child before him. What he saw surprised him.
He was glowing with an unearthly power, and the start of flames seem to be conjuring into his hands.

The man gasped. 'Is he a mecentiel?' Resolving himself, he slowly pulled out a sword.
Harry, in his angry, but still very sane mind. saw the sword, and thought to himself, 'Who the hell uses a sword
nowadays?'

This moment of distraction, allowed the man to charge forward and slice. Harry, barely got out of the
way in time, and quickly roundhouse kicked the man in the face, causing another sword that had been strapped to his
back to fall off. Running, Harry grabbed the sword, and ran towards an apartment he managed to find during his
nightime strolls from the orphanage.

The man raised himself from the floor, gasping for breath, and leaned down to find his swords.
Realizing one of them was gone, he found the conclusion he had been looking for.
"That damn kid took it," he groaned, "dammit, I got took down by a kid."
He growled. "A street rat with a Sword of the Daiven? The Council is not gonna like this."
He got up, and resolved to find the brat.

Harry was running, and was almost to his apartment, when he once again bumped into another figure.
On the ground, he let out an expletive. "GodDAMMIT! I am TIRED of you fuckers getting in my way!"
He looked up and saw the last thing he ever expected to see. Someone who looked like a vampire.
It was at this point he started laughing.

"Oh my god", he gasped for breath, "are you one of those
little emo kids who gave up and started cutting because you had too much money?"

The vampire bristled, and lunged forward. Harry immediately shut up,

having managed to take in the blood coming down the vampire's lips,
and the lifeless corpse behind him. Thinking as quick as he could about what to do, he grabbed the sword,
unsheathed it, and swung it. The vampire, due to his years of unnatural life, had seen the swing coming,
and recognized the sword for what it was. Hissing, he drew back, and disappeared.

Harry blinked, "Okay," he said, "that totally wasn't weird." Stepping over the corpse, which had conveniently
been drained of its blood on the steps to his apartment, he entered his apart. Yawning, he threw the sword
to the side and went to the bathroom. As he turned on the lights, the same vampire from before, lunged.
Harry, having not expected it, turned around in horror, only to have the vampire sink its fangs into his neck.
Helpless, he struggled as the world faded to black.

With a start, Harry woke up. He groaned, and fell back to his bed. "I've been having that same,
damn dream for the past two weeks." He groaned again, "C'mon Harry, get your head in the game."
He lightly slapped his head and traced the outline of his scar. He surveyed his apartment.

As he looked around at the various guns he had managed to acquire
calling in favors from people, he spotted the sword laying there, glowing in the sunlight ever so brightly.
He waited, then let out a sigh as he felt nothing from the sword. Strange things had been happening
to him ever since he had the sword, he would get attacked, mainly by things that don't look like the should even exist,
such as hags and vampires, and he would get strange pulls from the sword, which always lead him to a person
being attacked by mentioned thing that shouldn't exist.

The doorbell rang, and Harry cursed silently. "Wait up," he called out.
He slipped on his clothes and walked towards the door. Opening it, he saw the
man from two weeks ago.
"Hello," the man said, smiling, "I believe you have something of mine."
Harry stared, "Fuck.," was the only thing he said.