Shivering, the boy stumbled through the snow. He was cold and wore light clothes. Anyone could see he was no more than 16 years old, and it was clear that he had no family. He was just an orphan with misery smeared all over his young face.
The boy lifted his head and squinted, trying to see through the snow storm. Alas, the rapidly falling snowflakes made everything around him seem white. There where no houses nearby, only trees. He was sure he made no progress through the forest. Defeated, he slumped down on the cold blanked of snow and tried hard not to cry.
Simon had been rich, with everything he wanted, only 3 hours ago. He had a huge, warm mansion. He had good food, maids, a body guard...but he had no family. He lost it 2 years ago. Nevertheless, last month, he found a magician who promised him to return his lost family. How foolish Simon had been, to believe such a nonsense talk! The magician used him, and at the last minute, threw him out of the house empty handed, at night. All Simon had on were black pajamas and his blanked, which he wrapped around himself to see who was banging at the door at midnight. The magician turned up, kicked the boy out of the house, and kept his mansion to himself.
Simon could still remember the name of the maniac, to his great disgust. Nicandro... that name made him want to throw up. He shook his head to get rid of the memories, stood up, and continued to walk. After an hour or so, he got dizzy. He wanted to fall down and sleep, but he knew that was dangerous - gathering up all his strength, he hobbled on. Ten more minutes...he was too weak. His body stopped obeying him, and he fell down, and everything around him begun to get blurry. So this is probably the end..., he thought.
Before his eyes closed, he saw a shape emerge from the darkness. At first he thought it was a wolf, or some kind of predator, but then the thing touched his face and he understood it was a human. He lost consciousness as the person started to drag him away.
Chapter 1 Edit
Simon opened one eye. It was morning, and he was inside a small (but bright), dirty room. Not his room, which had been large and clean.
He sat up and winced - his right foot felt as if a thousand needles were driven into it. Ignoring the pain, Simon scanned the strange chamber. His eyes immediately fell on the chair beside the bed he lay on. In the chair sat a person who looked like a boy, no older than Simon himself. The boy's face was covered with dirt, and his hair was the color of hay. His nose looked as if it was broken a few times, and the right nostril was ripped. The boy's eyes where dark green, with a ting of yellow - he was staring at Simon, with a bored expression on his face.
"So, I see you're awake," the boy said; his voice sounded hoarse, as if his throat hurt. Simon didn't reply. He just stared at the boy, thinking if it was his rescuer.
"...Who are you? Where am I?" Simon finally decided to speak. The boy's eyebrows rose, as if he was amused. "I'm a human. You are in my house." The answer annoyed Simon somehow, and he glared for no reason at all.
"I was asking for your name." He said slowly.