Chapter One Adoption
Lathron hid his head under his tattered pillow as the morning sun shined through the open window into his eyes. He silently counted to ten before shrugging his thin blanket off his slim figure and removing the pillow from atop his head. Sighing tiredly he put on a pair of faded blue jeans that were to long for him that were on the floor, walking over to his shoddy dresser he pulled out a long sleeved brown shirt with half the left sleeve ripped off from scaling the drain pipes outside his room, on the front of his shirt was the silver dragon, the insignia of his city. His eyes drifted wearily around his room as he tried to find his only pair of socks and shoes. His room was nothing grand, as was expected for an orphan in the city of Borthron. All he had was a rundown dresser, a small pallet, and a window that overlooked the Merchant District from inside his tiny room in Marisa's Orphanage. Sighing with dismay he realized that the other orphans had probably stolen them, as was custom for things left unguarded, especially if they belonged to him.
"Get down here you miserable wretch!" Bertha the proprietor shouted up at him.
He was currently the only orphan on the top floor as many of the others had all ready been adopted or lived on the lower levels. Marisa's Orphanage had five levels and a basement; the top four levels housed the orphans, while the ground floor was divided into a front entrance, a living room, and a kitchen, while the basement was where clothes were mended and washed and cleaning items were kept. Bertha to his knowledge had always been in charge of the orphanage, bordering close to eighty years old she was a cranky old thing that took pleasure in making life miserable for the orphans in her care.
"Coming Bertha" Lathron shouted back down at her.
"Don't you dare yell at me!" Bertha yelled back.
Shaking his head, he stopped looking for his socks and shoes. Opening the door from his room into the hallway, he started to descend the stairs heading towards the first floor where he knew he would suffer both from the harassment of the other orphans and Bertha.
Apparently the gods were with Lathron that morning, for as he walked by on the second floor he noticed the corner of his missing shoe sticking out of another orphan's dresser drawer. He wasn't sure who the orphan was; he had never bothered to learn any of their names as most ridiculed and harassed him. He crept silently into the unknown orphan's room. Noticing that the owner of the room was already down for breakfast he walked quickly over to the dresser and grabbed his shoe, pleased to notice that the shoelace was tied to his other missing shoe and that both socks were in their respected shoe. Grinning from ear to ear he put on his socks and shoes, pleased that his day was starting to look promising.
Lathron's grin was still on his face as the racket of Bertha's ranting reached his ears. Judging from shrill voice, it seemed that someone was coming up the drive way. For some reason people always thought Bertha as a kind grandmotherly old woman that took delight and extreme delicacy in the care of the orphans… O how wrong they were.
"Hurry up, you filthy maggots, make sure you're presentable this time. Maybe someone will actually decide upon taking you in, although, considering your appearance, I doubt that anyone would want to" Bertha said with a sneer plastered on her wrinkly face.
Lathron stared coldly at Bertha as she continued to sneer hatefully at him. "That's it you faggot, stand up to me for change, grow a back bone" Anger boiled inside Lathron like a raging hurricane as Bertha continued her rant. "Just like your pathetic mother, she was a slut you know that right?? A down right dirty slut she was, running off with that douche bag." Bertha's breathing was heavy now, she rarely ranted so long.
Clang, clang, clang. The brass doorknob banged heavily on the large steel door leading into the orphanage. No one knew why the front door was steel, whenever the officials came around for the yearly check on the orphanage Bertha told them that she was afraid someone would break in. However all the orphans knew it was so that they couldn't open it, as they were all undernourished and hadn't the strength to open the door. Bertha froze as the visitor knocked again. Clang, clang, clang. Then she sprang into action.
"Come hither my dears, the foster family is here" Bertha said in a sweet voice. Bertha's foot shot out and kicked one of the orphans on the shin. "Open the door for me my darling" The orphan limbed slightly over the steel door and struggling, managed to open the door enough for whoever was on the other side to open it the remaining distance. The door swung open silently, a man walked as soundlessly as a ghost into the orphanage, no others followed him inside.
For an instant, darkness seemed to envelope the man like a cloak. Then, suddenly, as if a veil had been lifted, it disappeared. Eyes as grey as a storms cloud peered down intently at the orphans in the room. His rustled ebony black hair hung over his eyes down to the bridge of his noise as if he had just been in a fight. From a glance, one could tell that his slim figured was well toned and he carried himself with an aura that spoke confidence. His attire seemed plain but spoke astonishing wealth on a closer look. He wore a long sleeved shirt black shirt that bore a richly decorated silver dragon insignia going down both sleeves. The shirt was light, seeming as though it would blow away in the slightest breeze. From his waist down he wore a pair of grey form fitting breeches.
Suddenly, as if realizing that he should probably introduce himself he started to speak. "Ah it's such a pleasure to finally meet you Bertha" he said with a thin smile. "I've heard so much about these past few days, my name is Manus, I am here to adopt an orphan."
Bertha remained motionless as if someone had imprisoned her in ice. An age seemed to pass before she responded to his statement. "Ah but of course" she managed to stammer out. "All the orphans are presently in the room" finishing the statement, Bertha took a step back and kicked Lathron's calf forcing him to stumble forward. "O my poor dear! Are you alright" she said deceivingly, turning and facing Manus, she spoke again "This here is the oldest of the lot, and perhaps most accustomed to hard labor, he's taken it upon himself to do the majority of chores in the house during the week". Lathron gritted his teeth at the lie. He was usually forced with the prospect of a beating should he, or any of the orphans for that matter, disobey her commands.
Manus' eyes glinted as she finished speaking, it seemed as if he saw through the lie for what it was, impossible though, Lathron thought. Bertha was an incredibly accomplished liar. Heck, she could've probably started her own guild with it.
"How is it that all of these children are malnourished? And how is it that the vault in your room, is almost overflowing with gold from all the donations you get that allows you to provide them with food, clothes, and every other necessity in life that they could require?" Bertha's eyes had widened in shock the moment he had mentioned the vault, hell all the orphans themselves were shocked when Manus mentioned a vault that was overflowing with gold!
"Usually I take no notice in these things" he continued, his gaze shifting around the room studying the faces. "But, I think this time, I shall interfere, because to be honest, there haven't been very many contracts coming in for people that need to be killed. Good-bye Bertha, give my regards to the fallen God's will you?"
His right hand clenched in fist. Black mist started pouring out from between his fingers as he slowly unclenched his hand, a black wicked looking shuriken rested on his open palm. It appeared that the shuriken was the source of the black mist as it rolled off the sharpened blades of with a seemingly malicious intent.
"You can't do this to me. I have friends in high places; you'll never get away with this!" She snarled.
"You really need to get out more" Manus replied shaking his head. "Haven't you heard? All of your Friends are dead. I tell you this though, no one within my guild did it" his eyes hardened as he continued. "Someone outside the organization has been going on a killing spree" A thin smile appeared on his as he raised the arming holding onto the shuriken. "You don't have to worry about any of this though" he said. "Because I'm going to kill you"
The next few moments were a blur to Lathron. Bertha's scream as Manus threw the shuriken. Black mist trailed the projectile as whistled through the air. The sickening thud as metal penetrated flesh, the cracking of bone as her neck bone snapped. Then she collapsed. Right there on the floor where she had stood. The shuriken still impaled in her neck. Screams penetrated the air as blood seeped out of her neck. Chaos broke out as the orphans started running madly for the steel door.
