Me: I admit, I've been a lousy fanfic author, and I'm so sry. But I'll hopefully prove that it was well worth the wait.
3. 9 Years On
Rita was running away. Ice cream woman and minion of Father, Rita had taken enough abuse from Father. She had always been loyal and true to her master, but was still never treated as a true equal like and ice cream man. Her scorched hand was a result from her betrayal, helping a KND agent to escape.
She knew Father would send her nightmare, his son, Warren. He was strong and swift and always caught a traitor. Il est le fils de Père.
Rita leaped into the pond and hid in the overgrown rushes. She heard rustling and splashing and looked fearfully around. The noise became louder and then stopped. Rita turned around, and was face-to-face with Warren. His faded black, bowl cut hair looked frightening when it was wet. His violet eyes were dark, fierce and glaring at Rita.
In a voice colder than the day he was born, he whispered, "No one escapes the son of Father."
When Rita was back at the Mansion, she was at Father's feet, looking miserable and pitiful. Father's eyes, which were bright yellow as a hawk's, narrowed in contempt.
" Thank you my delightful son, for bringing miss Rita back to me."
Warren looked questioningly at his Father, "What are you going to do to her?"
Father smiled wickedly as he thought aloud, "Oh, a few small fires here and there on her, bit by bit, allowing them to lick away at her. What do you think?"
Warren was appalled at the thought, but played it cool, "Don't torture her, she's a very loyal member of your army. I would give her half the typical rations for a while and force her to double her efforts."
"But," Father pointed out, "you're not in charge are you? I am, and I'll do as I please."
He readied a small, searing flame for the tied up Rita. Warren would not see it. He took Father's dirk from the wall pegs and sliced the ropes securing Rita. "Run while you still can," he said to the lady. She nodded and did as he advised.
Father launched a fireball at the retreating Rita, but missed.
"Go bring her back," Father hissed angrily at Warren.
Warren spoke only one word, "No!"
"Turncoat!" Father screeched pointing an accusing finger at Warren. "I made a bad mistake when I took you in and called you my son!"
Warren roared back, "Look around, Father. I'm the only kid for miles around. You've never let me near another kid as long as I've lived. How can you be my real father? No loving or caring a true father would show towards his son. I've never thought you as my real dad, but respected you as a leader, until today."
"Galu, seize him!"
"First one to touch me dies!"
Anyone who had chanced a step forward froze. They all knew what the boy was capable of and none of them were prepared to mess with Warren. He backed away, Father's stolen blade still ready.
"I no longer wish to live here, Father. You've always been a cruel man, but you've gotten worse over time. I'm leaving, so may our paths never cross again."
Warren ran out of the Mansion, deaf to anything else that was said. He ran through thick grasses and tall weeds, being careful not to run into a tree. The stars that had guided many a travelers twinkled above his head. The half moon was stamped in tha night sky, a bright semicircle.
(Night)
(And the spirits of life)
(Calling)
(Oh, oh, iyo)
(Mamela listen)
(Oh, oh, iyo)
The mixed-up boy tripped and went flying into the water of a stream. He groaned audibly, causing bubbles to rise to the surface. He allowed the icy water to cool his mounting temper. Warren floated on his back, still letting his suit to become even more soaked and muddy.
(And the voice)
(With the fear of a child)
(Answers)
(Oh, oh, iyo)
(Oh, mamela)
(Oh, oh, iyo)
He can't possibly be my father Warren thought as he gazed up at the stars. He had always thought that every star was someone looking down on the earth from above. He also hoped at least one of them cared about him. Then, a constellation appeared to Warren in the star speckled night sky. It was face and upper body of an Asian girl with long, dark hair. She was watching Warren, and he knew it.
(Ubukhosi bohkoko Throne of the ancestors)
(Wendodana ye sizwe sonke Oh, son of the nation)
He stared up at her, feeling a certain connection to the girl. He blinked and she was gone. Only the millions of stars sparkled at him. So pretty, yet so far away.
(Wait)
(There's no mountain too great)
(Hear these words and have faith)
(Oh, oh, iyo)
(Have faith)
Warren slunk out of the water and onto the muddy bank of reeds and cattails. He sighed and shivered. Looking into the stream, expecting to see what a wet, filthy mess he was, he instead saw the reflection of a blond, 10-year-old boy with the same haircut as himself. Warren looked around, bur there was no one. The boy in the stream pointed at himself, and then at Warren.
(Hela he Mamela hey, listen)
(He lives in you)
(He lives in me)
(He watches over)
(Everything we see)
(Into the water)
(Into the truth)
(In your reflection)
(He lives in you)
The tousled head of a chestnut-haired boy spied on Warren. Warren looked up from the river to the rushes on the other side.
"Who's there?" Warren called.
The boy revealed himself, "Matteo Gilligan," he answered.
(Ingonyama negw'enamabala here is a lion and a tiger)
"The better question, sah, is who you are." Matteo said coolly. "I've never seen you 'round 'ere afore."
"It's a long story," Warren explained. "my name's Warren."
Matteo smiled, "Well, Oi wouldn't think ye'd wanna sit in the mud all noight, eh? Follow me."
(chorus)
Matteo led Warren to a small home in the woods. "It's our summer house," Matteo told Warren. He opened the door and beckoned Warren in. A woman in her early thirties stood inside ruffling Matteo's hair. She wasn't very tall and her hair was the colour of dried hay. The lady was garbed in a light green turtle-neck sweater and a dark blue skirt that fell to her ankles. Over this was an orange apron with a large pocket, the apron that her aunt had given to her after Matteo was born.
She turned to Warren, "Well, gidday there young 'un, though it's noight toime now isn't it? Silly me. So, Matti found yeh boi the stream, eh?"
"Oi sure did, Mum!" Matteo said.
(So wait)
(There's no mountain too great)
(Hear these words and have faith)
(Oh, ho, iyo)
(Have faith)
(Oh, ho, iyo)
(Hela, he mamela)
Indeed, the female was Winifred Beatles, now Mrs. Gilligan.
"Moind if 'e stays the noight?" Matteo asked.
"Aye, go ahead." Winnie said.
Warren followed Matteo to his room. Matteo rummaged in his closet and set up a sleeping bag up for his new friend.
"-ere yeh are, g'noight."
Matteo went into the bathroom to get changed. When he camr back, he immediately fell upon his own bed and began snoring.
Warren took his shoes off and settled in for the night, sleep following his thoughts of the girl in the sky and the boy of the stream.
(He lives in you)
(He lives in me)
(He watches over)
(Everything we see)
(Into the water)
(Into the truth)
(In your reflection)
(He lives in you)
