Dragon's Kindred
Chapter 1
Crying to a Calling Bird
A baby's wail broke through the silence of the early morning. Yawning, 16 year old Petry Immerly stumbled up to blindly grope around the room to find the 2 year old babe. Petry and her baby brother's parents had been killed only months after Zander was born. Life wasn't exactly fair when you were living in a bankrupt orphanage with hundreds of other kids in the middle of the city of Cassori.
Blinking rapidly, Petry's eyes finally adjusted, and she was able to find Zander. She cradled him, cooing comforts to meet his wailing. One of the other kids in the room moaned, muttering about a 'bastard baby'. Slowly easing into a sitting position on her cot, Petry slowly rubbed the baby's back, still muttering quietly to him. Eventually, Zander fell into an uneasy sleep, breathing heavily.
Life at the orphanage wasn't getting any easier. Taxes were being raised, and the orphanage was getting desperate. No one wanted any of the children, and the orphanage already had little money as it was. Chores were being piled up, and most of the time the children didn't have any meals throughout the day. Even a small piece of bread was a feast for them now. Some kids were starting to be kicked out onto the streets to beg now, including Petry's best friend Livv, a vivacious redhead that had only just arrived and stayed little over a sevenday before being thrown out.
Sighing, Petry continued to cradle the baby to her chest, peering wearily out one of the dirty, broken windows into the foggy dawn light. She was able to see dust wafting down to the ground in the few rays of the sunlight. In about an hour, she knew, the caretaker would come and rouse all the children, and that was never pleasant. "Nanny", as all the kids referred to the grumpy old man that was their caretaker, kept thinking of less and less pleasant ways to wake them up. Yesterday, it was locking the kids in with abused and hungry cats that were only the tiniest bit mad. Many of the kids in her section still had red gouges from various assortments of claws and teeth, and one or two of them had almost lost an eye. Only Nanny and the Gods would know what they got today....
Petry was pulled out of her silent reflections by a subtle tapping. Only if it were as quiet as now -and you must remember that this was very rarely- would you be able to hear. Frowning, Petry lifted one hand up to push a stray strand of shoulder length brown hair out of her eyes as she inclined her head slightly to get a subtle look at the ceiling. Nothing. Tilting an ear to the floor, Petry could still not detect the source. Without the slightest hint of reason, the tapping paused, rasped once more, and quit. Staying silent for several moments, Petry turned this strange noise over in her mind.
Laying Zander gently onto her cot, she covered him up with a corner of her scrap -for it was more of a scrap than a cloth, and more of a cloth than a blanket-. Rising as silently as she could, she made her way over to the section's single, broken, filthy window. As usual, there was nothing there. Petry coughed, going over to and clumsily sitting back down on her cot. Swearing loudly in Yerrin, Petry succeeded in gaining what she liked to refer to as 'the support of the crowd', though that was the complete opposite of what it really was. "Why ain't 'ya lettin' us sleep, ya bitch?" snarled a bad-tempered 17 year old boy with ebony hair; he was the 'master' of the kids, seeing as he was big and buff; and, as usual, didn't think much. People adored him.
"When is your sleep my problem, Raoul?" Petry snapped back. Mornings were never her best time of the day, and she wasn't in the mood to be agreeable. Apparently, neither was Raoul. Petry leapt up to meet Raoul with a flying punch that successfully landed in his gut. Fire burning in his eyes, Raoul's fist connected with Petry's eye. Zander, having woken up again, started wailing at the top of his lungs, but no one paid any attention. All the kids in the section were now surrounding Raoul and Petry, cheering on their favorites. Of course, during fights, Raoul usually gained as much support as he needed, and those who were cheering for Petry usually gained a bloody nose and switched their loyalties.
Nanny and another staff member eventually stopped the fight. Raoul's tally was lighter than Petry's; him with only a couple cuts, a bleeding lip, and extra kitchen duty, while Petry owned a black eye, a bloody nose, a cut on her shoulder, yard duty, and Five and Below watch for two hours; also known as baby sitting the rowdiest group in the orphanage. Every kid in the section groaned sarcastically as they were ushered out for morning duties, already missing the action of the fight. Petry lingered behind, having to calm Zander down and bring him to the Five and Under group. She wasn't allowed to be more than five minutes late. Zander being a daily 'routine', all her officers had grown accustom to having her late and panting when she got there. If she was even one second late, that meant more duties, or the threat of being tossed out. Time could not be wasted.
The rest of the day passed pretty slowly. During the thirty minute 'lunch' break -take into account that there was usually no lunch at all, so it was very ironic that they still included the lunch in there-, Petry's spirits lifted a little when she saw that they received thin stew that was mainly heated chicken broth and potato. Stomachs still growled after that fresh introduction of food, longing for more, but yet there was none.
After lunch was the usual time for lounging about, though today the kids only officially got two minutes of it. While flowing with the stream of the kids in the hall, Petry was pulled aside by a bony hand that dug into her wrists, which weren't all that less bony than hers. A thin old man with practically no hair was glaring at her, and she instantly knew him as one of the ones that the head was close in trust to. Gasping a little, Petry numbly followed as the man dragged her down the hall. Shoving her into a room, the man scowled and left. Petry let out her breath, and looked around the dingy room.
This room was not much different then the rest of the orphanage. Dirty, dusty, and wooden. This room was exceptionally musty smelling, Petry noted. Lost in thoughts, Petry jumped when the door behind her slammed open. She quickly maneuvered out of the way, turning to face the comer. The Big Cheese -Petry just now adopted that term for the head of the orphanage- was staring coldly at all of the kids. Petry gulped, wide eyed. She had only heard rumors of this tall man standing in the doorway, and none of them were any good. On a first glance it seemed that the head was a regular man, but if you looked him over thoroughly he would not seem normal anymore. He had a strange black mark on his lower arm that no one could explain, and no one dared asked about it. His eyes looked as if they had icicles growing out of them, and his hair was the color of embers.
Looking slowly around, the man cleared his throat and glared at each of the kids in turn. The kids hanging around the shadows slowly moved to the center of the room, and Petry stepped back, almost as if someone was controlling her rather than her own free will. As the head stepped slowly into the dancing light of the torches, Petry could see that he was impatiently holding a whip in his right hand. Clearing his throat, the head started to speak, and it sounded as if he took great effort in keeping calm and 'pleasant'. "Now then, you are all here for one reason." Those words that came out of the head's mouth sounded like a death threat to Petry.
"As you should know, we do not have much money. So, therefore, we have found a.... new..... way of making money." Petry shivered slightly at the sound of this. "You will be sold as workers to some of the highest paying shops." Pointing the butt of the whip at a small, pale, mousy boy Petry had never much paid any attention to, the head barked out, "You are serving as one of the slaves to the royal family." Pointing the whip to another girl with blond hair, almost looking in her twenties, and almost the age to be heading out anyway, "You, to be a stall hand."
The listing went on, as far as Petry was aware, and each time a kid was assigned, they nodded meekly and swiftly brushed past the head and out the door, to their new locations to collect the payment and start their jobs. Petry was sure anyone that listened could hear her heart beating furiously right now. Eyes widening, she blurted out as the head was assigning the next to last person, an extremely young boy of about seven years old, "What am I to do about Zander?" Glaring furiously at her, probably shocked that anyone would be brave enough to interrupt him, the head sneered at her. "Zander? Who is this Zander? I know no Zander. You", he pointed the whip at her, "Are to be a tavern girl. Make them pay extra." Shocked, all Petry could do was nod, and start in the head's direction.
The head blocked her way. Looking up, she gaped for a second before clearing her throat. "Am I to go?" The head laughed shortly. "I do believe so." With this he moved to the side, and Petry went through at almost a run. Feeling the sting of the whip on her back, she gasped and maneuvered around the turn, nearly at tears.
Eventually finding herself at the entrance of the orphanage, Petry could walk no further. She didn't want to. A rough push from one of the staff had her stumble a step forward. Turning quickly, she punched the guy in the nose. He cried out, and Petry's eyes widened when she realized she had broken the man's nose. Stifling a pathetic whimper, she turned and fled out the door, flying to wherever her feet would lead her.