Thick, gloomy clouds enveloped the sky as rain poured down from the break of dawn. In a shrouded room, a young boy with copper skin and messy white hair quietly slept as droplets tapped incessantly against the nearby windowpanes.
If one looked close enough, they could see a name inscribed on the brown wood of his headboard. Damon Redhill, that was his name, or rather the name he had been given.
At first glance, his wiry frame gave the impression of a boy in his late adolescence. However, he was merely thirteen years old and still needed all the sleep he could get. Most days, he tried his best to wake on time to avoid being given extra chores.
But on this oddly cold day, Damon decided it was worth it.
Burying his face into the soft cotton pillow, he rolled on his side, and a satisfied smile graced his lips.
Bang!
Abruptly, Damon's eyes snapped open as he felt a sharp pain coursing through his head. It was like a blunt object had been slammed into his temple, and suddenly, he was wide awake, his mind no longer drowsy.
"Good morning, my dear Brother!" A familiar voice sounded annoyingly over him.
Glaring at his attacker, Damon clenched his teeth and sat up, holding his forehead. But his brother simply smiled back at him, shamelessly holding a wooden training sword over his shoulder.
"Mother said to wake you up, you're late again," He said matter-of-factly.
"Not like this, you dolt," Damon grumbled, swallowing his irritation.
After the six sparring classes they had shared, he knew he could not fight [[Vincent]] ; the blond bastard was two years older than him after all, and a much better fighter.
Seeing him lower his weapon, Damon quickly jumped to his feet to better respond to any more violence and sniffled disdainfully, "I'll be sure to remember this".
With a casual shrug, Vincent ignored his comment. "So are you excited yet?"
"About..?" Damon asked curiously, unaware of what Vincent meant.
"Obviously training," He replied excitedly, "Learning skills and the family spells. I can show you some if you want."
Shaking his head, Damon let out a long-suffering sigh. Vincent had always treated him as something of a playmate since the others tended to avoid him due to his pranks.
"Why don't you pester Henry or Fin for a change?"
"What!?.. Don't want to spend time with your dear brother anymore?" said Vincent sarcastically.
He scowled at him unhappily for a second before laughing menacingly as his expression darkened. Then he turned and exited the room, leaving his brother speechless.
Watching Vincent's back fade into the corridor with the sound of his laughter sent chills down Damon's back. After frantically slamming the door, he stomped off to get dressed for the day, afraid of what tricks his brother would play.
Changing out of his Pyjamas into a linen shirt and black trousers, he noticed a book missing from the bedside table. He was pretty sure he knew where it was.
His brother Fin had a habit of taking books to his room, no matter how many times he told him to get them from the library instead. Damon double checked and, sure enough, volume one of his favourite novel "Monarch Of The Mysterious" was missing.
Now feeling defeated, he headed towards the door for his boots. As he tugged on them and tied the coarse black laces, Damon glanced back at the wall positioned left of his bed.
The same poster had been there since before he could remember. "Protectors, Not Weapons." The paint used had long become discoloured, and the four edges were torn, but that simple quote remained vibrant.
They were his mother's words.
Damon used to think they sounded heroic, but now he wasn't so sure. Shuffling out of the room, he headed towards the dining hall downstairs, and as he moved through the corridor, his thoughts drifted to the past.
The Attendants here said the orphanage stood on the eastern border of Aegis, the most powerful nation in the world. It had been built after a falling out at the prestigious Hopes Rise Academy, the pride of the Aegis.
Fifteen years ago, Aegis had risen to dominance when the Academy was founded. Its purpose was to forge children into living weapons to protect the public from the Curse unleashed upon the world. The curse itself appeared a decade earlier, after an Unknown Entity invaded. Though it was eventually cast back to the void, the damage had already been done; tears in space remained from the curse, creating paths for other creatures to enter our world.
As a Retired Military Veteran and founding member of the Academy Board, their Mother couldn't stand how they treated the kids like tools. Six years after the academy's founding, she resigned, and not quietly either.
Rumours say the Academy board turned her husband, Arthur Pendragon, against her and tried to bury her name, but she retaliated. Crossing blades with Arthur, filled with anger and sorrow, she struck him down, then destroyed what was left of her lab. It's unknown how much of that tale was true.
But what was certain was that soon after her capture, civil war erupted in the neighbouring eastern nation of Koinonia. It stood as a blending pot of many different cultures and trade, yet beneath that was a well of discontent.
In the end, King Charles V Darwin chose not to execute her as a demonstration of his Kindness and majesty. In recognition of her past contributions, she was instead banished to the far edges of Aegis. Before she departed, the king dispatched troops and an envoy to Koinonia to help bring the civil war to a close and oversee the transition of power after the tyrant king was deposed.
The fighting had left deep scars on Koinonia's capital city, Emporio. Half its population perished during the conflict, but the nation itself endured. Reconstitution began swiftly with support from Aegis. It was there in the recovering capital she found them, children crawling out of trenches, stumbling from under rubble, or sitting quietly in the burnt remains of their homes. Some already clutched knives in trembling hands, while others were too numb to speak. Instead of leaving them to their fates, she gathered them all and brought them here.
To the House of Red-Hill…
'It was supposed to be an alternative to the military-style academies. Safer and more free. But I guess safe hasn't truly existed anymore since the curse came.'
As he approached the dining area, he paused at the entrance. The storm outside the windows came to a gradual stop; he could now hear the clicks of utensils and the low murmurs of his siblings over breakfast.
"I heard a priest's coming today to adopt Castiel!"
"What? No way, Cass doesn't even speak."
"Is he not mother's biological son?"
"It would be great if you could be adopted by a priest."
Damon's brows creased as he heard their words. The chatter usually annoyed him, but he had already accepted that this was precisely the time when the family was the most talkative. He straightened his shirt, ran his hand through his hair, and muttered to himself.
"Late Again, huh? She's going to kill me."
'Not literally, of course.'
'Probably.'