Volume 1: Chapter 1: One For The Orphan part 3

Light, forever the harbinger of hope was nothing more than a stain on the world that would never wash away. Through the mud, and filth men would go about their days in ignorance of the worlds events with hearsay too comfort the seat of the soul. The walls of the boys life were of a similar mind with an iron door being the messenger of the day; the cell window was simply the reminder of what may lie beyond.

The boy knew the moment he was picked from the litter, that those who have made designs on the world, would, and shall forever mold him into their likeness. It was far better than a cramped cottage filled with parentless children that starved, but was the pain worth it? The constant struggle of the day and night between orphans was hard, and the work to earn your keep was even harder. To survive some would steal, and those that had nothing in the end were buried in an unmarked grave when the light faded from their eyes. Fights erupted over constant needs and power shifted in perpetuity. In his memory the risk was even greater when being skimmed for purchase by men, or women.

There were those who came in heavy with coin, purpose, and desire unknown; the consequence, however, was felt by the meek and unsubstantial. They would be carried away on some rickety wagon, or by horse, yet they were gone all the same. As long as he remained far from the plight of others he didn't care. For this was the world of pigs shat from a whores ass; questions though, persisted. he did not see the place he was brought to due too a potato sack covering his head, and his hands being tied, but the question of how large this place kept creeping back into his thoughts. Other questions poured forth from a frothing mind. How many people lived here, and why orphans? Why have him, or if there are others, share a cell? What was the point of burning the skin? What would they do now, and will life here be brighter than what was once his home?

Questions remained with no answer in sight, yet, just then, the shuffling of feet could be slightly heard beyond the iron door. The time has come for the other to return, to rest and eat, or reject and die. Slight screeching penetrated the boys brain and eased his mind from weary questions. The two before carried the other boy quickly to his resting spot, took off the blindfold, and gently put him down without any words while leaving beyond the doorway. Amis slowly staggered in with his limp leg and tossed a dried fish towards the other boy and took a quick glance. What soon followed was a waddle and the closing of a door.

The Orphan looked over towards the other child. He seemed of similar age, and somewhat rough around the edges with long, brown, wild hair the same as his. The child slowly crawled to the dried fish, and gnawed on it slowly.  He was somewhat thin with his belly pressed against the floor. The back of the boy harbored a symbol with two lines emerging from a single point, and a line going between them in the center.  There was a single line next to it and another one similar too the two lines with an intersecting line, but it was upside-down without the line between them.

The orphan shattered the uneasy silence with a tired, steady tone.

"Do you have a name?"

The other boy slowly turned from his meal to look upon the orphan and utter words close to that of a whisper.

"Amandus, I'm Amandus."

He picked himself up from the floor only to lean against the cold stone wall with his seared back. The pain was slight, but was tolerable if little movement was made. Amandus looked directly at the Orphan and continued the query.

"I was named so after my father, and his father named him after himself. Though I doubt that matters now."

He took a heavy bite from the dried fish and lazily gestured his hand towards the orphan, begging the question of who he is.

"Well, speak, what is yours?"

"I have none."

The orphan replied in immediate attention; however, Amandus pressed in a pestering look as if he really didn't care.

"Why not?"

"I was never given one, I was neither born of a family line, or from a man and woman who held a lofty name. Rejected, and left like the others. That was all there was."

Amandus had turned his head toward the exit when the orphan was speaking, and turned his head back.

"You're a depressing person, you know that? When I find a proper name for you, I'll call you by it."

The orphan looked towards the barred window, and the light was close to fading away into another night. The orphan then muttered.

"That might be nice. Do you think things will change for the better on the morrow?"

Amandus looked to the orphan while grabbing his would-be blanket, pillow , and was irritatingly light of tongue .

"Perhaps, perhaps not, Get some sleep."

Amandus wrapped himself up and faced the left wall opposite of the orphan. The orphan turned so that he'd face the barred window, and look upon the sky when he'd awake. Covered up in his blanket and his head on the flat pillow,  his eyes slowly shut, and the world faded away.