11-02-2009, 12:43 PM
Right. This is a little story I am working up, and it is currently in the stage where I make it up as I go.
I will place a short summary of the story once Chapter 3 (or maybe 2) is finished.
And yes, my writing sucks.
...
...
Chapter One is Finished, Chapter 2 will take about a week or two to finish.
I will place a short summary of the story once Chapter 3 (or maybe 2) is finished.
And yes, my writing sucks.
...
Chapter 1 - Chess (Click to View)
Tom kept his eyes open all the time. The others young ones were supposed to keep their eyes open too, in case of danger, but they were too caught up in their own troubles, so they didn’t. Although he was the leader of a bunch of children ages of four to twelve, Tom knew he couldn’t do anything about it. He understood that he could only depend on himself to survive danger.
There was plenty of danger to watch for. Ever since Cythan trapped itself in war with Shi, a neighboring city-state, air raids grew more common. Some said the world was currently in a technology revolution, and even more said that it was only a matter of time before humanity created something that will wipe out life on this miserable planet. The planes strike at night, raining bombs down from the heavens, but some say before long they will attack both day and night. It will be a never ending attack.
Although Tom and his group lived in Cythan and knew Shi was the enemy, the government was what to really watch out for. The secret police was formed by the aristocrats, who ran the government at the time, in order to clean up the streets and make Cythan a better place to live. When the Dome family took over and formed the Dome Dynasty one year ago, the secret police remained, but became more corrupt along with the rest of the city. The Tyrum, an underground jail the size of the city itself, was where everyone who became suspect of treason or any other crime went. No one has ever escaped. The secret police made sure of that.
But even when the police came by, probably in a desperate attempt to clean the streets of youngsters like Tom and his group, Tom would give a signal, and everyone would hide. Rather it was in the dumpsters of alleyways or underneath piles of trash, it didn’t matter. As long as everyone was safe, this was what Tom cared about.
However, the police didn’t drive by a lot – they were too busy rounding up more dangerous, older people. And the air raids usually didn’t attack the rural side of town, where Tom and his group resided. A more immediate danger was outsiders - common folk, both young and old, who walked down the streets every day. The most dangerous of them were the ones who walk right past the alleyway that Tom calls home. Some in the group call it paranoia, but you can never be too careful, Tom figured. Full of rats and snitches, Cythan is a dangerous place.
Tom, with one knee down, hid behind a trash can in the alleyway as lookout, about thirty feet away from the street. The alleyway stretched on for about a mile – longer than one might suspect – and ended with a brick wall, thus it is easily possible for a bunch of children to hide throughout the end of it undetected. If they received a warning far enough in advance they could hide and be safe, Tom figured. It worked so far, so why fix it, he reasoned with himself.
Tom gasped as the eerie silence of the alleyway that Tom grew to love was interrupted by police sirens. The noise was dim, but closes enough to be considered dangerous. Tom stood up and turned around, facing away from the street and into the passage. Mist shrouded it so one couldn’t see forty feet away. Not a sound came from it. He clapped.
The sound rang through the alley, innocent enough where police wouldn’t investigate, but loud enough so the rest of the kids knew what it meant. Or, at least the ones who heard it did, Tom hoped. Those who heard it would spread the message.
Another clap returned from the alleyway, in order to assure Tom they received his signal. He smiled and ran into the mist.
*
“Master Damien, I can see you are dressed accordingly. Are you ready?”
Sixteen year old Damien Young’s head shot up. He was in his large bedroom, lying on his bed reading a novel written by some sixteen century author. His butler stood in the doorway that connected his room with the hallway. Sun shined from a window behind him and gleamed on his bald head.
“Yes,” said Damien. He got up from his bed and shrugged. Time flies when you are reading, he figured. It seemed that it was only a few minutes ago when he started. An hour passed by. “Where are my parents?”
“Down in the main lobby, sir. Your escort is waiting there as well.”
“Cool,” said Damien. “Better not keep them waiting then.”
“Don’t worry, sir, your mother said to take all the time as you wished. Oh, I meant to ask you Master Damien,” said the butler. “What do you think of your new house? Your parents, espically your mother, are dying to know, and honestly,” he chuckled, “so am I. Your sister told me earlier that she loved it. Simply brilliant, she said.”
Yes, the house was nice, Damien reasoned. After his parent’s business sky rocketed from a small family company to a multimillion dollar empire, his family’s social class rose as well. He went from living in a small apartment on the outskirts of the city with his mother, father, and younger sister to living in a mansion near the center of town. He never had a back yard before, and now he has one the size of a dozen. This is no small feat in Cythan City. “It’s really nice,” said Damien. “But I haven’t gotten a chance to visit all of it. Though I love the book collection downstairs.”
His butler’s eye’s gleamed. “Oh I can see that.” He paused. “Forgive me, I believe I haven’t introduced myself to you, Master Damien,” he extended his gloved hand. “My name is Edward Howard, or as some people call me, butler number eight. Just call me butler. I am very pleased to meet you, sir.”
Damien walked over to shake Edward’s hand. He found the butler to appear older up close rather than far away. “Nice to meet you, Edward.”
Edward’s wrinkled face smiled. “Ah, a strong handshake like your father’s,” he said proudly. “Yes just like your father’s. You look like him too. Dark black hair, blue eyes. Handsome very handsome. Tall, too. Did you know I knew him as a child?”
“No, and uh, thank you,” said Damien, trying to keep a straight face. “Downstairs, you said?”
“Main lobby, sir. I can escort you, if you wish.”
At first Damien was confused with this question, but then the realization came to him that he could get lost for days in the mansion. He scratched his head. He hasn’t adapted to rich life just yet. “Yes please,” he said.
Edward made a deep bow, and for that split second sun shined down on Damien’s face. The sun was eclipsed as the butler pulled back up. He made a small gesture for Damien to come, and began walking down a long hallway. Damien followed.
The hallway was longer than Damien expected. Pictures of odd looking people hung on each side of the wall in fancy wooden frames. They all seemed to be looking at him with grumpy faces. The walls were also fancy, painted a nice sky blue. The dark blue carpet was soft on Damien’s feet, unlike he was used too.
“These are pictures of your past family members, some of which I knew personally,” said Edward. “Yes, your father spent a lot and time and money searching for these. Apparently your family’s past is long and complicated. He traced your relatives back to almost five hundred years. Almost every generation has five to eight kids. Espically the older ones. But, alas, your father seems to have found them all. They of course didn’t have photographs back then, sir, so people had paintings done instead. Usually only the rich had this luxury, however.”
“Does that mean my past relatives were rich?” Asked Damien. “If they all had paintings, wouldn’t they be?” Edward didn’t exactly spark his interest, however, because Damien wasn’t interested in his past at all. The conversation took his mind off of the painting’s odd faces, Damien figured.
“They were either rich or married someone rich,” said Edward. He made another look at a few of the paintings. “Although these paintings do not seem to be the greatest in quality. Mediocre at the very least. Possibly they were middle class and saved up money to have them done. I would ask your father sometime. He knows much more about you than I. I only know this because I was one of the many assigned to search for these. We found almost all in Cythan.”
“All my past family members lived in Cythan?”
“From what we could tell, but like I said, ask your father. He should know. He is a great lover of history.”
“Hm.” He didn’t talk to his father much.
“Your father used to tell me how nothing came before history other than family,” he said. “And chess of course.”
“My father likes chess?” Asked Damien. The realization then dawned upon him that he really didn’t know his father very well. Even though his family his rich now, it seems his father is busier with work than ever. Damien thought before was bad, but was he wrong. “He never told me.”
“Ah, yes. I used to play him when I was in my mid twenties and he was only a teenager, like yourself. Never once did he beat me,” Edward chuckled, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how your father liked chess.”
“Probably busy with work,” said Damien, looking down.
The last of Damien’s relatives were photographs rather than paintings, but soon they too came to an end, leaving the wall a blank blue. The carpet ended as well, and the floor was replaced with old wood. The hallway seemed lonelier, Damien noticed. His stomach grumbled. Perhaps he was just hungry, he thought.
The two reached a door built from timber wood. It appeared far from polished and new; however it did hold a diamond doorknob. It was the end of the hallway.
Edward opened the door slowly, revealing a staircase that led down to a black abyss. The stairs, along what seemed like everything else around Edward, was wood. “Watch your step, Master Damien,” said the butler. “This is an older part of the mansion. The lighting hasn’t been installed yet.” Edward made a small gesture, and entered the abyss. Damien followed.
Each step made a splintering noise that echoed throughout the enclosed staircase. And each step sounded different to Damien as well, like how every scream is different. But soon the screeching stopped, as Edward opened a door at the bottom.
As Damien stepped out into the light, he saw his mother and his sister, Mia, standing in the decorated lobby. Both of their faces seemed troubled.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” asked Damien. “Where’s dad?”
“At work,” said Mia. Mia was fourteen, and already adjusted to the rich life. She could find her way through the mansion without a problem. Damien doubted even his dad could do this.
His mother nodded. “Yes. We aren’t going tonight, Damian.”
Damien wasn’t heartbroken about not being able to go. In order to welcome 300 new employees to the company, his dad was going to throw a small party at a large hall. Damien wasn’t a fan of fancy events like these, but his mother insisted. Since his father is unable to attend, the party was off.
“I am sorry to hear this ma’am,” said Edward. Everyone, even the butlers, knew that my mom was excited about the evening.
“Did he say why?” asked Damien. “He is the boss. He doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to.”
My mother shook her head, and auburn curls flew from side to side. “No. A butler told me. I’m sure he’ll explain later tonight. Hopefully. Anyway, I know that you aren’t really a fan of these kind of events anyway, Damien. So your sister and I will be going to see a play tonight. A girl’s night,” Damien’s sister didn’t look pleased. “In the meantime, you can explore the house. You have the night to yourself.”
Damien nodded. “Okay. You’re leaving now?”
“We were supposed to leave a few minutes ago, but we thought we’ll tell you in person. I am assuming you don’t wish to go?”
“I’m fine here. Have fun.”
His mother smiled. “Alright then,” she turned and began walking toward the main doors. Mia followed with a frown on her face, arms crossed. They sauntered down some large, tiled stairs and reached a large, polished door. A butler opened it, and Mia exited first. Damien’s mother turned to wave goodbye, and then she was out of sight. The lobby, decorated with stained glass windows, great paintings, and lovely carpet, was quiet.
“Edward,” started Damien, breaking the silence. “If you have nothing else to do, do you want to play a game of chess?”
The butler nodded. “It would be my pleasure, sir.”
*
Somewhere, thousands of miles from Cythan, stood Conrad Huber. He was in a dense jungle that grew on a small island sitting in a large ocean. The beating sun grew tiresome, but he was on a mission.
This jungle he was in was filled with beasts upon the thousands; each and every one of them was dangerous in their own way. And Conrad was ready to hunt – and kill – all of them.
He loaded his gun, and walked farther into the jungle.
*
Edward was good at chess, Damien admitted.
The two played in an open space that sat in the middle of the gardens of the backyard. Damien was white, while Edward was black. A small table was set up already; its intended use was for my father, who usually likes to eat lunch alone. They set up the chess board that Damien brought from his old house, and the game began.
Damien watched himself get an early lead – he tricked Edward into taking his pawn with a bishop, and then countered with his queen to take the bishop. Edward sniffed at the counter, and began moving his pieces to the center.
Damien learned – mostly from how-to-play-chess books – that it is important to take the center of the field at the beginning. Control of it will help you, if not secure, achieve victory. But like war, it is important to know how to counter when the opponent gains the upper hand. Damien pondered how he would do that.
Edward’s pieces soon marched over the line of pawns, and Damien could only observe. From where they gathered in the middle, Edward’s pieces began moving in all directions. Damien found himself in check more and more often. With a brilliant counter move, he was able to take Edward’s rook, which seemed to be a key piece in Edward’s strategy. Setting his rook near the corner of the board, Edward prevented Damien from moving his king up while in check. Furthermore, once Edward gets his queen on the bottom row that would be checkmate. Damien smiled as he took the rook off the board. Edward picked up one of his pieces from the opposite side of the board that went unnoticed by Damien up until that point. He placed it down, near Damien’s king.
“Checkmate,” said Edward. He added, “Sir.”
Damien leaned forward, his hands pulling at his hair. “How did you do that?”
“You play too much like your father, sir,” said Edward. “I have experience playing against him. It
makes sense that I can beat you.”
“Wow.” Damien was speechless. He really thought he had Edward.
“You did surprise me a few times, sir,” said Edward. “You’re father would be very proud. Very proud.”
Damien sniffed and leaned back. “Whatever.” Damien was disappointed; however he did not know why. “Again?”
“Ah, I am sorry, Master Damien. I took time to play a game with you, but there is only so much time in the day. Now, I must return inside. There are duties I must attend to.”
Damien looked down and nodded.
“Perhaps you could explore the house, as your mother suggested,” said Edward. He dismissed himself and walked back to the mansion.
As Edward entered the house through a small, wooden black door, Damien lowered his head down. The rustling sound of planes flying overhead boomed across the grey sky, it began to rain, and Damien was alone.
There was plenty of danger to watch for. Ever since Cythan trapped itself in war with Shi, a neighboring city-state, air raids grew more common. Some said the world was currently in a technology revolution, and even more said that it was only a matter of time before humanity created something that will wipe out life on this miserable planet. The planes strike at night, raining bombs down from the heavens, but some say before long they will attack both day and night. It will be a never ending attack.
Although Tom and his group lived in Cythan and knew Shi was the enemy, the government was what to really watch out for. The secret police was formed by the aristocrats, who ran the government at the time, in order to clean up the streets and make Cythan a better place to live. When the Dome family took over and formed the Dome Dynasty one year ago, the secret police remained, but became more corrupt along with the rest of the city. The Tyrum, an underground jail the size of the city itself, was where everyone who became suspect of treason or any other crime went. No one has ever escaped. The secret police made sure of that.
But even when the police came by, probably in a desperate attempt to clean the streets of youngsters like Tom and his group, Tom would give a signal, and everyone would hide. Rather it was in the dumpsters of alleyways or underneath piles of trash, it didn’t matter. As long as everyone was safe, this was what Tom cared about.
However, the police didn’t drive by a lot – they were too busy rounding up more dangerous, older people. And the air raids usually didn’t attack the rural side of town, where Tom and his group resided. A more immediate danger was outsiders - common folk, both young and old, who walked down the streets every day. The most dangerous of them were the ones who walk right past the alleyway that Tom calls home. Some in the group call it paranoia, but you can never be too careful, Tom figured. Full of rats and snitches, Cythan is a dangerous place.
Tom, with one knee down, hid behind a trash can in the alleyway as lookout, about thirty feet away from the street. The alleyway stretched on for about a mile – longer than one might suspect – and ended with a brick wall, thus it is easily possible for a bunch of children to hide throughout the end of it undetected. If they received a warning far enough in advance they could hide and be safe, Tom figured. It worked so far, so why fix it, he reasoned with himself.
Tom gasped as the eerie silence of the alleyway that Tom grew to love was interrupted by police sirens. The noise was dim, but closes enough to be considered dangerous. Tom stood up and turned around, facing away from the street and into the passage. Mist shrouded it so one couldn’t see forty feet away. Not a sound came from it. He clapped.
The sound rang through the alley, innocent enough where police wouldn’t investigate, but loud enough so the rest of the kids knew what it meant. Or, at least the ones who heard it did, Tom hoped. Those who heard it would spread the message.
Another clap returned from the alleyway, in order to assure Tom they received his signal. He smiled and ran into the mist.
*
“Master Damien, I can see you are dressed accordingly. Are you ready?”
Sixteen year old Damien Young’s head shot up. He was in his large bedroom, lying on his bed reading a novel written by some sixteen century author. His butler stood in the doorway that connected his room with the hallway. Sun shined from a window behind him and gleamed on his bald head.
“Yes,” said Damien. He got up from his bed and shrugged. Time flies when you are reading, he figured. It seemed that it was only a few minutes ago when he started. An hour passed by. “Where are my parents?”
“Down in the main lobby, sir. Your escort is waiting there as well.”
“Cool,” said Damien. “Better not keep them waiting then.”
“Don’t worry, sir, your mother said to take all the time as you wished. Oh, I meant to ask you Master Damien,” said the butler. “What do you think of your new house? Your parents, espically your mother, are dying to know, and honestly,” he chuckled, “so am I. Your sister told me earlier that she loved it. Simply brilliant, she said.”
Yes, the house was nice, Damien reasoned. After his parent’s business sky rocketed from a small family company to a multimillion dollar empire, his family’s social class rose as well. He went from living in a small apartment on the outskirts of the city with his mother, father, and younger sister to living in a mansion near the center of town. He never had a back yard before, and now he has one the size of a dozen. This is no small feat in Cythan City. “It’s really nice,” said Damien. “But I haven’t gotten a chance to visit all of it. Though I love the book collection downstairs.”
His butler’s eye’s gleamed. “Oh I can see that.” He paused. “Forgive me, I believe I haven’t introduced myself to you, Master Damien,” he extended his gloved hand. “My name is Edward Howard, or as some people call me, butler number eight. Just call me butler. I am very pleased to meet you, sir.”
Damien walked over to shake Edward’s hand. He found the butler to appear older up close rather than far away. “Nice to meet you, Edward.”
Edward’s wrinkled face smiled. “Ah, a strong handshake like your father’s,” he said proudly. “Yes just like your father’s. You look like him too. Dark black hair, blue eyes. Handsome very handsome. Tall, too. Did you know I knew him as a child?”
“No, and uh, thank you,” said Damien, trying to keep a straight face. “Downstairs, you said?”
“Main lobby, sir. I can escort you, if you wish.”
At first Damien was confused with this question, but then the realization came to him that he could get lost for days in the mansion. He scratched his head. He hasn’t adapted to rich life just yet. “Yes please,” he said.
Edward made a deep bow, and for that split second sun shined down on Damien’s face. The sun was eclipsed as the butler pulled back up. He made a small gesture for Damien to come, and began walking down a long hallway. Damien followed.
The hallway was longer than Damien expected. Pictures of odd looking people hung on each side of the wall in fancy wooden frames. They all seemed to be looking at him with grumpy faces. The walls were also fancy, painted a nice sky blue. The dark blue carpet was soft on Damien’s feet, unlike he was used too.
“These are pictures of your past family members, some of which I knew personally,” said Edward. “Yes, your father spent a lot and time and money searching for these. Apparently your family’s past is long and complicated. He traced your relatives back to almost five hundred years. Almost every generation has five to eight kids. Espically the older ones. But, alas, your father seems to have found them all. They of course didn’t have photographs back then, sir, so people had paintings done instead. Usually only the rich had this luxury, however.”
“Does that mean my past relatives were rich?” Asked Damien. “If they all had paintings, wouldn’t they be?” Edward didn’t exactly spark his interest, however, because Damien wasn’t interested in his past at all. The conversation took his mind off of the painting’s odd faces, Damien figured.
“They were either rich or married someone rich,” said Edward. He made another look at a few of the paintings. “Although these paintings do not seem to be the greatest in quality. Mediocre at the very least. Possibly they were middle class and saved up money to have them done. I would ask your father sometime. He knows much more about you than I. I only know this because I was one of the many assigned to search for these. We found almost all in Cythan.”
“All my past family members lived in Cythan?”
“From what we could tell, but like I said, ask your father. He should know. He is a great lover of history.”
“Hm.” He didn’t talk to his father much.
“Your father used to tell me how nothing came before history other than family,” he said. “And chess of course.”
“My father likes chess?” Asked Damien. The realization then dawned upon him that he really didn’t know his father very well. Even though his family his rich now, it seems his father is busier with work than ever. Damien thought before was bad, but was he wrong. “He never told me.”
“Ah, yes. I used to play him when I was in my mid twenties and he was only a teenager, like yourself. Never once did he beat me,” Edward chuckled, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how your father liked chess.”
“Probably busy with work,” said Damien, looking down.
The last of Damien’s relatives were photographs rather than paintings, but soon they too came to an end, leaving the wall a blank blue. The carpet ended as well, and the floor was replaced with old wood. The hallway seemed lonelier, Damien noticed. His stomach grumbled. Perhaps he was just hungry, he thought.
The two reached a door built from timber wood. It appeared far from polished and new; however it did hold a diamond doorknob. It was the end of the hallway.
Edward opened the door slowly, revealing a staircase that led down to a black abyss. The stairs, along what seemed like everything else around Edward, was wood. “Watch your step, Master Damien,” said the butler. “This is an older part of the mansion. The lighting hasn’t been installed yet.” Edward made a small gesture, and entered the abyss. Damien followed.
Each step made a splintering noise that echoed throughout the enclosed staircase. And each step sounded different to Damien as well, like how every scream is different. But soon the screeching stopped, as Edward opened a door at the bottom.
As Damien stepped out into the light, he saw his mother and his sister, Mia, standing in the decorated lobby. Both of their faces seemed troubled.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” asked Damien. “Where’s dad?”
“At work,” said Mia. Mia was fourteen, and already adjusted to the rich life. She could find her way through the mansion without a problem. Damien doubted even his dad could do this.
His mother nodded. “Yes. We aren’t going tonight, Damian.”
Damien wasn’t heartbroken about not being able to go. In order to welcome 300 new employees to the company, his dad was going to throw a small party at a large hall. Damien wasn’t a fan of fancy events like these, but his mother insisted. Since his father is unable to attend, the party was off.
“I am sorry to hear this ma’am,” said Edward. Everyone, even the butlers, knew that my mom was excited about the evening.
“Did he say why?” asked Damien. “He is the boss. He doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to.”
My mother shook her head, and auburn curls flew from side to side. “No. A butler told me. I’m sure he’ll explain later tonight. Hopefully. Anyway, I know that you aren’t really a fan of these kind of events anyway, Damien. So your sister and I will be going to see a play tonight. A girl’s night,” Damien’s sister didn’t look pleased. “In the meantime, you can explore the house. You have the night to yourself.”
Damien nodded. “Okay. You’re leaving now?”
“We were supposed to leave a few minutes ago, but we thought we’ll tell you in person. I am assuming you don’t wish to go?”
“I’m fine here. Have fun.”
His mother smiled. “Alright then,” she turned and began walking toward the main doors. Mia followed with a frown on her face, arms crossed. They sauntered down some large, tiled stairs and reached a large, polished door. A butler opened it, and Mia exited first. Damien’s mother turned to wave goodbye, and then she was out of sight. The lobby, decorated with stained glass windows, great paintings, and lovely carpet, was quiet.
“Edward,” started Damien, breaking the silence. “If you have nothing else to do, do you want to play a game of chess?”
The butler nodded. “It would be my pleasure, sir.”
*
Somewhere, thousands of miles from Cythan, stood Conrad Huber. He was in a dense jungle that grew on a small island sitting in a large ocean. The beating sun grew tiresome, but he was on a mission.
This jungle he was in was filled with beasts upon the thousands; each and every one of them was dangerous in their own way. And Conrad was ready to hunt – and kill – all of them.
He loaded his gun, and walked farther into the jungle.
*
Edward was good at chess, Damien admitted.
The two played in an open space that sat in the middle of the gardens of the backyard. Damien was white, while Edward was black. A small table was set up already; its intended use was for my father, who usually likes to eat lunch alone. They set up the chess board that Damien brought from his old house, and the game began.
Damien watched himself get an early lead – he tricked Edward into taking his pawn with a bishop, and then countered with his queen to take the bishop. Edward sniffed at the counter, and began moving his pieces to the center.
Damien learned – mostly from how-to-play-chess books – that it is important to take the center of the field at the beginning. Control of it will help you, if not secure, achieve victory. But like war, it is important to know how to counter when the opponent gains the upper hand. Damien pondered how he would do that.
Edward’s pieces soon marched over the line of pawns, and Damien could only observe. From where they gathered in the middle, Edward’s pieces began moving in all directions. Damien found himself in check more and more often. With a brilliant counter move, he was able to take Edward’s rook, which seemed to be a key piece in Edward’s strategy. Setting his rook near the corner of the board, Edward prevented Damien from moving his king up while in check. Furthermore, once Edward gets his queen on the bottom row that would be checkmate. Damien smiled as he took the rook off the board. Edward picked up one of his pieces from the opposite side of the board that went unnoticed by Damien up until that point. He placed it down, near Damien’s king.
“Checkmate,” said Edward. He added, “Sir.”
Damien leaned forward, his hands pulling at his hair. “How did you do that?”
“You play too much like your father, sir,” said Edward. “I have experience playing against him. It
makes sense that I can beat you.”
“Wow.” Damien was speechless. He really thought he had Edward.
“You did surprise me a few times, sir,” said Edward. “You’re father would be very proud. Very proud.”
Damien sniffed and leaned back. “Whatever.” Damien was disappointed; however he did not know why. “Again?”
“Ah, I am sorry, Master Damien. I took time to play a game with you, but there is only so much time in the day. Now, I must return inside. There are duties I must attend to.”
Damien looked down and nodded.
“Perhaps you could explore the house, as your mother suggested,” said Edward. He dismissed himself and walked back to the mansion.
As Edward entered the house through a small, wooden black door, Damien lowered his head down. The rustling sound of planes flying overhead boomed across the grey sky, it began to rain, and Damien was alone.
...
Chapter One is Finished, Chapter 2 will take about a week or two to finish.
