Words were not the same as they were many years ago. Words, sentences, phrases, they all change with time. His English was almost as old as him. Blue eyes squinted at the strange words on the pale yellow pages open before him. How was it he could understand his teammates, clearly, but struggled to comprehend a book recently released into the world? Memories crawled from the depths of his mind that he had locked away many years ago. A school painted white, just outside of the new city he called home. Inside, two handfuls of children his age, with only one teacher, a young woman who always wore her brunette hair up in a bun with amber eyes and brass spectacles like his older brother's. He would learn from her until he turned 13, then would he leave to work in the factories in the city. She was sad to see him go, and he was hesitant to leave…but family came first. Her last words to him rang in his ears. "You have a lot of potential, Erron. I expect big things from you." She said with a big smile. He shook his head at the thought. Him? Potential? As if. Yet her words remained, a sense of guilt washed over him. How he wished he could fulfill that potential, at least to some degree. With a determined grunt, Erron Black looked around, seeing if anyone was watching him. When the coast was clear, he reached out to the bookshelf, grabbing a few more books, some thin, some thick, and hid them behind him under his poncho. With one last look, he quickly made his way to his room and hid his collection under his bed. If he couldn't find a teacher here, he was going to teach himself. Hands rough from years in the factory and surviving in a world like this opened a red leather cover and pointed to the first word. His lips moved to make the sounds of the letters linked together into a word. "Chapter one…"