Morning Star

Prelude?

Chapter 1

A small boy drags his way in the rain along a cold and dirty hair clung to his face with a slap on each step he takes. He makes his way sluggishly towards a small, white church on a nearby hill. Mud sticking to his ankles and sucking away at his feet with each step, he nearly makes it when at the top of the hill he manages to slip. Worn from his devastating travels, he cries. How could I be so naive, he thought. A hand delicately touches his shoulder and startles him. He looks up and finds a girl, no more than 11 years old standing before him.

"Hello…" a voice so soft, he felt a flutter.

"H-...hi…" he replied.

"Looks like you've taken a fall...do you need a hand?

"I could use a hand right about now."

She stuck her hand out. He seemed hesitant but could feel his pants being sucked into the mud. He placed his hand in hers and she pulls him out of the mud. They solemnly walk to the church, still hand in hand. Upon reaching it, they let go embarrassingly and smile. Now, in the light of the candles he can see her features properly. She's a fairly thin child, he thought. She had a tuft of black curls on her head and a fair, pale skin. Her cheeks and nose are touched by small freckles delicately placed. She doesn't get a lot of sun I suppose...he thought to himself letting a small curl at the tip of his lip show.

"What's so funny!" Her brow furrowed.

"Nothing really. Just been an...interesting day I guess."

She opened the doors to the church and tiptoed inside. She glanced behind her and noticed that he had not done the same but stared uncomfortably at the doors.

"Well?" She said sarcastically. "Don't you want to get dry?"

"I don't do well...with churches" he sneered.

"Well then, I guess you can catch a cold. Don't cry to me when you get sick."

She continued inside and walked up to where the front of the pews were and turned to see he was coming in slowly to follow, albeit with a face of disturbance. He eventually caught up to her but not before glancing at where a hung Jesus statue was raised in honor. Lights below shown up hitting the statues face. It should have been a thing of beauty, but with the night came a darkness and the light only accentuated deep features that would normally not appear there. Interesting..he thought. A pang in his heart told him he was still sulking with distrust and for a moment betrayal

Are you okay?"

She had noticed his darkened features but decided after to ignore them.

"Come through this door, it will take us to a safe place."

They went through a dark hallway, only lighted by the moonlight creeping through the stained window panes. They passed many wooden, cherry stained doors but came to one near the end of the hall. The door, unlike the others, was a white door. She pulled a bobby pin from one of her curls and pried the prongs apart, using one end to unlock the door.

"This is my room, you're welcome to get warm by the fire."

She went to the fireplace to start it up for him. He looked cold and although he tried to hide it, she could see the bumps on his arms while he had them crossed. Focusing on his wardrobe for the first time, she saw he wore a black button down shirt and a pair of black silked pants to match. Both were soaked and dripping. His shoes could no longer be seen as the mud has found its place in the nooks and crannies amongst his shoe laces. She sighed, knowing she would have to wash the floors due to the trail he inevitably left.

"Maybe I should find you a change in clothes...What size are you in pants?"

"I'm fine, the clothes will dry and besides...I won't wear any choir boy's clothes.." He began to disrobe starting with his shirt.

"STOP! Atleast let me get you a robe. It won't do for the priests to find a boy in my room, much less without clothes on..just...wait here, okay?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She left the room and while he waited, he took off his shoes and placed them by the fire. His socks followed suit. He decided to study the walls. The room was small, but cozy. A small rug sat in the center where he imagined she sat most nights to get warm. Her bed, equally small and the sheets were old and gray. Barely suitable for a child, he thought. No pictures on the walls told him she was alone. A small book shelf in the corner told him she had little belongings. It held only a box and two books. He sauntered over and wiped the dust from the first book. It's binding was labelled "ALBUM". He opened it and strangely saw it was empty. Why have an empty album? He resigned his musings, deciding to ask her and turned to the second book. A journal with a lock. Temptation pulled at him but deciding not to anger the girl quite yet went to the box. It was old and tapered. Bits of cardboard had already begun to decay and turn into a powder. Lifting the top gently, he could see several items of which to anyone else would be garbage. A small yoyo, some bottle caps and string. He noted there were three broken crayons, no box. There were used, paperclips and lastly, an old locket with a chain. Clearly fake, he decided. He picked up the locket, careful to place the top of the box delicately. Opening the locket, he saw a picture of a small girl no more than three years old with a woman of identical features. A mother perhaps?

"PUT THAT DOWN!"

The girl had just walked into the room with the clothes she had promised and found him rifling through her belongings. Running up to him she snatched the locket from his hand.

"I don't know you! You don't get to touch this!" She placed the locket back into its hiding place and placed the cap of the box back on.

"I didn't mean anything by it, I was just curious."

"Yeah? Well curiosity can mean a walk back onto the street!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again..Alright?"

"Fine...I have these for you. Why don't you change and I will clean the rest of the mess your shoes made. I will be right back so DON'T touch anything. I'm locking the door so we don't get any uninvited guests. Unlock it for me when I get back."

She threw a set of fabrics at him, and walked to the door, hitting the switch on the inside door handle and shutting it behind her. She tiptoed through the halls, careful not to alert anyone that might be lurking the church. She went to the storage room and grabbed some towels. She went to the sink to fill a bucket with water and soap. Twenty minutes went by and the floors sparkled clean. Just as she was about to head back to her room she heard a floor creak.

"Hello, Ava Grace. You're up late this hour. Is something troubling you my child?"

"N-no Father Abel. I was just...getting a glass of water...the storm woke me and I wanted to calm my nerves…" she replied.

She hoped he didn't catch her lie. Father Abel was a good man. He was a priest since before she was born and he had promised his life and soul to healing the wounded and lost.

"Be sure to go back to bed when your done, and perhaps change your clothes. You shouldn't be out in the storm. You never know who you'll see…" and with that warning Father Abel was headed away toward the west wing of the church.

Ava felt a chill touch her spine with the thought. Surely a lost boy could be of no trouble. Father Abel always seemed to know what she was up to but seldom did he stop her. Usually to let her learn some absurd lesson that would never relate to her. She shrugged her shoulders and headed back to her room. She knocked on her door, ensuring the boy was clothed. The lock snapped back and the door creaked open. Before her, the boy was clothed in a preacher's robe set. She had given him the smallest size they had but it was still too big for his meek size. She would never realize the irony of the image.