The Call of War
Prologue
"Jonathan wake up you're going to be late for school!" said a gruff, fatherly voice from the floor below. A cliché beginning, I know, but a story has to begin somewhere, and for John Egbert it started that morning.
He struggled to get up, a prisoner of exhaustion and his sheets. He pulled the covers over his head and hoped that maybe if he fell asleep again his father would leave him alone. No such luck.
"Jonathan!" the voice yelled as it ascended the stairs. "Your breakfast is getting cold. You don't want to start the day without your morning cake and icecream now do you?"
"Yes, yes I do" he mumbled to himself. John Egbert rolled out of bed (literally) and fell to the floor, reaching and feeling above him on his nightstand for his thick pair of glasses. He ruffled his dark black hair and slipped on his favorite shirt on. It was an old tattered thing, the color fading from the green slime ghost on the center, but it was a comforting token of clothing from an old friend, and he would need all the comfort he could get as he started his first day at high school. He pulled on a pair of khaki shorts and tied his sneakers, not even attempting to go take care of his messy crop of hair.
As he walked downstairs, his father handed him his lunch and book bag.
"Now remember-" he began
"Yea I know dad. 'Study hard, pay attention in class, and above all else be extra ordinary.' I got the drill." John said.
"Atta boy," said Dad Egbert. He kissed his son on the forehead and sent him on his way.
John walked outside and took a deep breath. He had a feeling that today would be anything but "extra ordinary."
"Boy!" a voice yelled from across the room. "Hey you there boy!" A piece of chalk flew across the room, hitting John in his forehead, causing him to wince in pain as snickers broke across the room.
"Y-yes sir?" John said.
"Oh how nice of you to pay attention. Tell me, where your dreams so fascinating that they take precedent over my class?" said the teacher.
"No sir." John said
"Good," said the dark little man, "Now would you care to introduce yourself to the class boy?"
John stood up and introduced himself to the class, his voice barely audible. He looked around the classroom and attempted a smile, though he was certain it looked more like a grimace. He kept looking until his eyes fell upon one particular person.
She was blonde with hair slightly longer than a bob cut, her deep purple eyes buried in the pages of a novel. She had an elegance about her, a certain kind of mystery all her own. He stared at her, entrapped in that grace, until, without even looking away from the pages of her book, she spoke up.
"You are rather brazen, aren't you Johnathan, staring at me in such an embarrassing manner in front of all our peers."
He immediately looked down, flushed with embarrassment as he walked back to his seat while the rest of the class laughed at him.
"Thank you for introducing yourself Mr. Egbert," said the teacher through clenched teeth, "And thank you, Rose Lalonde, for finally gracing us with your attention. To think that it took a foolish boy to finally get you to pay attention in class. Perhaps Mr. Egbert should sit in the front instead of the back to better accommodate you."
"Oh it wasn't the foolish boy that caught my attention, but the foolish little man beside him, Mr. Mayor" Rose said, smiling from behind the pages of her book.
Mr. Mayor looked at her with a scowl, his forehead wrinkling with anger as Rose continued reading as if the conversation never happened.
"Mr. Egbert," said Mr. Mayor, "You would be doing yourself a great service to avoid this girl and pay attention in class."
John nodded his head slowly, but he had no intention of listening. Something drew him to her, something about her person caught him in her web and he couldn't escape. He wasn't in love with her, he knew that much, but the pull was just as strong as if he were.
He looked outside and let out a sigh. There was something in the back of his mind scratching at the surface, a memory of times long ago. He turned and looked at her from the corner of his eye. She felt familiar to him, in a strange sort of way.
"From another life perhaps?" she said loud enough for him to hear but quietly enough so no one else could. He saw that she was smiling at him from behind her pages again, but this time, the cryptic look was gone. Instead, he saw the honesty in her eyes, an honesty that was only shared between old friends.
He dropped his guard and smiled back, his eyes on the board but his mind focused on her. "What are you reading?" he said under his breath as Mayor began a discussion on the rise and necessity of Democracy in the United States.
"Just an old favorite," Rose said, her eyes returning to the book but her smile stayed. It was a gentle to him reminder of who she really was but again, he didn't know what he was supposed to remember.
"What's the title?" he asked.
"Honestly, I haven't the faintest idea." she said as she twisted the worn out spine his way.
"Read me the first line, maybe I know!"
"Hm," she paused, "Perhaps you do."
She turned to the first page and began reading the first few lines:
"A young man stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 13th of April, is this young man's birthday. Though it was thirteen years ago he was given life, it is only today he will be given a name…"