So the story begins. I'll explain some things first to avoid confusion. In this story the Allen is the Allen from 35 years ago, thus without innocence (for now), white hair, or scar. He is Bookman's first apprentice, the one before Lavi came along. Right now the Order and the Noah clan are still at war and Allen hasn't met Neah yet.
The story will be told from various characters perspectives, namely Neah and Allen.
Please tell me what you think (how I can improve), including any theories you may have which I may incorporate into the story.
Thank you!
With an exasperated sigh the boy slammed the stack of papers on the wooden desk looking both tired and irritated as he stretched his lips into a thin smile. The middle-aged Asian man sitting on the wooden chair beside the desk paid him no attention, preferring to continue to look at the leather bound book held in his hands with transfixed attention.
"Master, this is the last of the files you wanted me to edit… is there anything else you would like me to do?" A pleading tone tinted the question.
With a sigh, as if he was the one who hadn't slept for the last three days going over dusty tomes, writing out endless reports, and searching over hundreds of shelves for specific files and, admittedly, getting lost for hours on end until a kindly library assistant had guided him back to civilization. The Asian man, his master, also known as the current head of the Bookman clan reluctantly closed the volume in which he had been reading and glanced skeptically at his apprentice.
"Why, would you like some more work, Allen?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"…No, sir. If possible, I would like some sleep, or better yet, some food first."
After a few moments of silence with Bookman noticing just how worn out his young apprentice was, he grudgingly nodded his consent. Before his master could change his mind, Allen stormed out of the cramped office leaving a trail of fluttering papers in his wake. He was so ravenous he didn't even have the energy to slam the door as an expression of his discontent.
"Allen! I'll be setting aside Section #629's records for you to go through, come back after you've gotten some sleep, alright?"
The boy narrowed his eyes, great, he hadn't even left out of hearing range and already Bookman was piling up work for him to complete. Sometimes he wondered if the man was purposefully trying to strain him to death, well it sure was working considering his current condition.
With another exasperated sigh the boy exited the university library apartments where he and his master was staying, careful to lock the door behind him. Fresh chilly air greeted him, Allen smiled it sure felt great to see the sky again. He could barely remember the last time he had been permitted outside.
Tightly wrapping his woolen scarf around him, the boy skipped off the stone steps and made his way toward town. Sleep could come later after he had some long postponed breakfast first. Allen rarely complained about his food but the so-called eatable grey mush that the university cafeteria served was simply too much for him to handle after the thirteenth time he got a stomachache. Just thinking about it made the boy shudder, that pungent smell still haunted his dreams.
The leaves on the oak trees that lined up the sides of the street had faded into a sunset yellow, they fluttered on the knotted branches at the slightest breath of wind, some spiraling downwards like drifting fragments of color. Allen breathed into his hands, unfortunately he had forgotten about his gloves and his coat had no pocket that he was aware of.
He couldn't remember seeing the leaves change color, or even recall noticing the season change from spring to what appeared now to be autumn. The boy bit his lip; briefly wondering how many months had passed since he and his master left the Order. He hoped that the exorcists was alright, and despite the amount of punishment that had been bestowed on him since due to that incident he didn't regret what he had done. His master on the other hand had a completely different take on the matter of course.
A few droplets of water tapped lightly on his cheek. Allen glanced up and groaned. Perfect, he thought as he regarded with dismay at the heavy grey skies towering above him. As per usual his luck was somewhere down in the drains, it would appear that his meal would have to be brief if he did not want to be drenched, or worse, catch a cold. Right on cue, Allen sneezed.
"I haven't seen you in a while Luca! How have you been?" The friendly woman behind the counter asked, she was about middle aged with her hair strapped into a messy brown bun and was wearing a plain maroon colored dress.
Allen, slightly surprised, quickly recovered, "Good afternoon Mrs. Burnsfield, I've been well, thank you for asking." He replied smoothly, flashing a charming smile at the plump woman. Slowly he closed the door he had entered through behind him, hearing the tingling of bells in response. It had been quite a while since he had been referred to as Luca, Lucas Nathaniel Ashmore, a mason's son and the traveling apprentice to a foreign historian to be exact.
The Inn was filled with restless chatter and the slam of cups on wooden tables, laughter erupted frequently as well as a few cries of good-natured annoyance. Allen settled himself on one of the tittering stools facing the main counter with ease, sighing in content at the delicious smells seeping through from behind the closed door leading to the kitchen. His stomach growled shamelessly.
Mrs. Burnsfield laughed, "Why, haven't Mr. Bookman been feeding you lately? Gosh, you do seem even thinner than before!" She exclaimed.
"No time. I swear, that man's been trying to work me to death. One of these days I'll be found dead from being buried alive under piles of paper and books." Allen said sheepishly. "To tell you the truth, I can't remember that last time I had a decent meal, or sleep for that matter." He rubbed his eyes wearily.
"Now, that's no way to treat a growing boy! Really I ought to have a talk with that man!" The woman frowned in disapproval. "Don't worry Luca, I'll get you a good meal right away!"
"Thank you Mrs. Burnsfield."
"No need to thank me sweetie." With that the woman quickly disappeared behind the kitchen door, Allen smiled.
A tap on his shoulder alerted him to the bulky man standing behind him. The man had a bushy mustache, narrowed blue eyes, and budging muscles rippling beneath his stained worn-out clothing. He gave Allen a lopsided grin, displaying a set of crooked yellowed teeth.
"Hey boy, I heard from these areas that you are the best, care to join us for a game?"
There was no doubt on Allen's mind as to what he was talking about, hunger and tiredness aside he couldn't refuse a bit of pleasure when offered so plainly.
"Sure, I don't mind. You got cash I assume?"
The large man scoffed at the kid's arrogance. His eyes narrowed further, "Cocky, aren't you?"
"Haven't you heard confidence is built on abilities?" Allen had a mischievous glint in his eye.
The man chuckled darkly, "Well then kid, we'll see if you got the skills to match that tongue of yours."
"Don't say that I didn't warn you."