Sorry this update is so late! I was going to post it yesterday, but I got some psychology I needed to do and then I was going to post it this morning but I woke up late and needed to be in college. Add that to the fact that my brother only just got back from Austria and needed about five hours to check all his emails, I've only just gotten the computer! This is a short chapter, but I'm finding that this is easier to write in smaller parts...

Anyway, here it is!

"Boris? Where are we going?"

Tala looked out of the window of the car curiously, letting Henryk look as well. Boris continued driving. "Boris?"

"Yes?"

"Where are we going?"

"To my school."

"How far is it from here?"

With a small smile, Boris stopped the car. "We're here." Tala looked out of the window again and saw a low building with a dome-like centre. "We call it the Abbey."

"Isn't that where monks live?" Tala asked inquisitively. Boris shrugged, opening the door.

"There are no monks here. Just beybladers."

"Will you really teach me to beyblade?" Tala gushed, wrestling with the door until it opened, spilling him onto the icy ground. Boris picked him up and set him back on his feet. "Yes, Tala. This is a school for beybladers after all. Come on in, you can meet some of the older boys." Tala reached for Boris' hand, but the older man wasn't looking. Tala gave Henryk both of his hands and followed Boris as he approached the heavy steel doors of the Abbey. They slid open, and Boris turned. "Welcome to your new home, Tala. Your Grandfather will never find you here."

Tala grinned. "Do you promise?"

"I...promise. Come inside..." Tala jogged to keep up with Boris' large strides and the doors closed behind them. It was light inside, with bright strip-lights above their heads. The corridor they were in opened out into a large hall, with doors leading off it in all directions. Boris took them left, along a few more corridors, and into another large room. Tala gasped as he entered. There were boys there! Beyblading! Forgetting Boris he ran over to watch, crawling through the legs of a towering boy and gazing enraptured at the dish, where two beyblades were slamming against each other. He let Henryk watch as well, then felt his bear being ripped out of his grasp. He turned and looked up, pleading.

"Can I have Henryk back please?"

"You what, kid?" Tala pointed.

"Can I have Henryk back please? I want to show him the beyblades!" The boy holding Henryk started to laugh, when another, much bigger boy with dark hair hit him around the head, snatching the bear back.

"He's just a kid. Leave him alone Fedya!" He crouched down, bringing himself to about Tala's level, and sat Henryk on his shoulder. "So you like beyblading, kid?"

"I want to learn! Boris said he'd teach me how to do it!"

"What's your name?"

"Tala. Tala Ivanov. And he's Henryk Ivanov." The older boy offered his hand to Tala solemnly.

"I'm Adrik Taziev." Tala shook Adrick's hand and smiled. "So you like beyblading?" Tala nodded.

"But Grandfather wouldn't let me. He said it was common." He pulled a face. "I don't like him. I ran away." Adrik smiled.

"You ran away? How old are you?"

"Eight. But I'm nine soon."

"Oh? When's your birthday?"

"November." Adrik shook his head, smiling. Seeing as it was only February, Tala's birthday wasn't exactly close, but he humoured him.

"That's nice."

"How old are you?"

"Me? I'm sixteen. I'm twice your age exactly."

"...Do I have to call you sir, then?" Asked Tala, his eyes still on the beyblades. Adrik looked at him in puzzlement.

"Sir? Why would you call me that?"

"Grandfather said if they're more than five years older than you you have to call them sir. Or madam, if it's a girl."

Adrik was about to reply when one of the beyblades suddenly came flying towards them. He went to get Tala out of the way of it, but the little redhead caught it, looking at it carefully. He traced his finger over the top, smiling. "My father used to make beyblades...he made really good ones..."

"He could never have made one as good as that." Said a haughty voice from somewhere above him.

"Why? Did you know him?" Asked Tala eagerly. The green eyes above him narrowed.

"-No-. Now give me back my beyblade." Adrik stood up, folding his arms.

"Quit picking on the kid, Gaver. And where are your manners? Did your mother never teach you to say please?" Gaver glared, then looked down at Tala again.

"Give me my beyblade. -Please-." Tala held it up and Gaver snatched it away. The little redhead looked down at his hands where the beyblade had been. And he knew that he wanted one of his own.

Well, R&R please!