CHAPTER TWO --Then--
Nyrendra hummed as she went, sort of half-skipping, half-running down the narrow stone lane. People stopped what they were doing to stare as the little elf-girl went by, for it seemed that her feet barely touched the ground, so graceful were her movements.
Her right arm was falling asleep; so she shifted the books that she was carrying to under the crook of her left arm. She slowed a bit as the houses got bigger, and began searching for a certain one.
She found it after only a couple of minutes. It wasn't as well kept as the other houses on the street, although Nyrendra could tell it had once been a grand house indeed. The bushes were a bit overgrown and various wildflowers were scattered amongst the overgrown grass. Several loose boards hung on the fence, and the gate was slightly askew.
A little girl was waiting for Nyrendra on the front porch. She smiled shyly as Nyrendra approached.
"Thank you for helping me catch up to the rest of our class," Nyrendra told her, returning her smile.
"You're welcome," the little girl replied, her smile faltering for a second. "Ummmm...do you think we could study outside today? It's so pretty out."
Nyrendra readily agreed. They went out behind the house, and settled at a small stone table that was in the center of the garden.
They hadn't been there long when Nyrendra began to hear angry shouting, and lots of crashing and thumping coming from inside the house. A man's voice, furious, loud and slurred, came floating out of the window.
"...worthless little bastard! Why the gods cursed me with you I'll never understand. Don't you turn away when I'm talkin' to you! BOY, YOU GET BACK HERE!!"
The little girl's face had turned completely white, and was contorted into a grimace. She held absolutely still, and Nyrendra realized that the weather wasn't the only reason they were studying outside.
"Moira..." Nyrendra whispered urgently, shaking her friend, a sense of dread slowly creeping over her.
At that moment, the back doors to the house flung open. A young boy tumbled out, followed closely by a glass beer stein. It struck the boy at the base of his skull and shattered into a thousand, glittering shards. The boy groaned, then collapsed, stunned for the moment.
Moira was sobbing in earnest now, her entire body shaking in fear. Nyrendra could her loud footsteps thumping down the hall of the house, a loud curse, and a sudden crash. Whoever had been in pursuit of the boy had fallen.
"Moira, come on! I need your help!" Nyrendra hissed through gritted teeth. She was terrified of whatever was in the house, and her only thought was to get herself, Moira and the boy out of its path.
Nyrendra jumped up, and after a short pause Moira followed. Somehow, between the two of them, they managed to drag the boy out of sight behind some bushes.
Nyrendra prodded gently at the hair at the back of the boy's neck. It was slightly sticky, and when she pulled her hand away there was blood on it. She shuddered inwardly, and wiped her hand off on the grass.
At this the boy awoke, and yanked angrily away from Nyrendra. He glared at her, and was about to say something when a beast of a man emerged onto the porch.
The only sound was the man's wheezing, as he teetered on the edge of falling. He grabbed onto the railing, and searched the yard with beady, bloodshot eyes. He had a scraggly, half-beard growing on his chin, and messy, unkempt hair that flew wildly about all over his face, giving him a savage, animalistic look. After a few minutes, he muttered a string of curses under his breath, then turned and entered the house, slamming the door behind him.
Moira let out a whoosh of air, and began to sob again, her tiny body shaking violently.
"Shhh, Moira. It's all right. He's gone, its okay now," the boy murmured, his face filling with concern. He wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her tightly to himself, almost as much for his own comfort as for hers.
Nyrendra grabbed Moira's hand, and squeezed it, in a kind of shock. The three stayed huddled behind the foliage like that for a minute, the only sounds being Moira's shuddering breathing. Finally Nyrendra asked,
"What WAS that?" in a hushed tone.
"THAT," the boy answered, seeming to agree with Nyrendra's choice of pronouns. "Was our father." He studied Nyrendra intently. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he asked abruptly.
"I'm Moira's friend. My name is Nyrendra," she answered, a bit defensively. "What about you?" she challenged "What's your name?"
The boy remained silent for several long moments.
"You DO have a name?" Nyrendra asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Anomen," he finally answered.
Nyrendra hummed as she went, sort of half-skipping, half-running down the narrow stone lane. People stopped what they were doing to stare as the little elf-girl went by, for it seemed that her feet barely touched the ground, so graceful were her movements.
Her right arm was falling asleep; so she shifted the books that she was carrying to under the crook of her left arm. She slowed a bit as the houses got bigger, and began searching for a certain one.
She found it after only a couple of minutes. It wasn't as well kept as the other houses on the street, although Nyrendra could tell it had once been a grand house indeed. The bushes were a bit overgrown and various wildflowers were scattered amongst the overgrown grass. Several loose boards hung on the fence, and the gate was slightly askew.
A little girl was waiting for Nyrendra on the front porch. She smiled shyly as Nyrendra approached.
"Thank you for helping me catch up to the rest of our class," Nyrendra told her, returning her smile.
"You're welcome," the little girl replied, her smile faltering for a second. "Ummmm...do you think we could study outside today? It's so pretty out."
Nyrendra readily agreed. They went out behind the house, and settled at a small stone table that was in the center of the garden.
They hadn't been there long when Nyrendra began to hear angry shouting, and lots of crashing and thumping coming from inside the house. A man's voice, furious, loud and slurred, came floating out of the window.
"...worthless little bastard! Why the gods cursed me with you I'll never understand. Don't you turn away when I'm talkin' to you! BOY, YOU GET BACK HERE!!"
The little girl's face had turned completely white, and was contorted into a grimace. She held absolutely still, and Nyrendra realized that the weather wasn't the only reason they were studying outside.
"Moira..." Nyrendra whispered urgently, shaking her friend, a sense of dread slowly creeping over her.
At that moment, the back doors to the house flung open. A young boy tumbled out, followed closely by a glass beer stein. It struck the boy at the base of his skull and shattered into a thousand, glittering shards. The boy groaned, then collapsed, stunned for the moment.
Moira was sobbing in earnest now, her entire body shaking in fear. Nyrendra could her loud footsteps thumping down the hall of the house, a loud curse, and a sudden crash. Whoever had been in pursuit of the boy had fallen.
"Moira, come on! I need your help!" Nyrendra hissed through gritted teeth. She was terrified of whatever was in the house, and her only thought was to get herself, Moira and the boy out of its path.
Nyrendra jumped up, and after a short pause Moira followed. Somehow, between the two of them, they managed to drag the boy out of sight behind some bushes.
Nyrendra prodded gently at the hair at the back of the boy's neck. It was slightly sticky, and when she pulled her hand away there was blood on it. She shuddered inwardly, and wiped her hand off on the grass.
At this the boy awoke, and yanked angrily away from Nyrendra. He glared at her, and was about to say something when a beast of a man emerged onto the porch.
The only sound was the man's wheezing, as he teetered on the edge of falling. He grabbed onto the railing, and searched the yard with beady, bloodshot eyes. He had a scraggly, half-beard growing on his chin, and messy, unkempt hair that flew wildly about all over his face, giving him a savage, animalistic look. After a few minutes, he muttered a string of curses under his breath, then turned and entered the house, slamming the door behind him.
Moira let out a whoosh of air, and began to sob again, her tiny body shaking violently.
"Shhh, Moira. It's all right. He's gone, its okay now," the boy murmured, his face filling with concern. He wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her tightly to himself, almost as much for his own comfort as for hers.
Nyrendra grabbed Moira's hand, and squeezed it, in a kind of shock. The three stayed huddled behind the foliage like that for a minute, the only sounds being Moira's shuddering breathing. Finally Nyrendra asked,
"What WAS that?" in a hushed tone.
"THAT," the boy answered, seeming to agree with Nyrendra's choice of pronouns. "Was our father." He studied Nyrendra intently. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he asked abruptly.
"I'm Moira's friend. My name is Nyrendra," she answered, a bit defensively. "What about you?" she challenged "What's your name?"
The boy remained silent for several long moments.
"You DO have a name?" Nyrendra asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Anomen," he finally answered.