Chapter One:
Gazing in the mirror I gauge my reflection. Midnight black, thick hair drapes into my vision, around my face and down to the nape on my neck. It curls out in many directions, as if I do not own a hairbrush, or perhaps lack the willingness to fix it properly. More likely I simple like it this way. A thin black shirt covers broad, slim shoulders and stretches past my studded belt. The corners of my mouth fall slightly at the notice of an all black attire. Quickly I exchange the black shirt for a more appropriate red and white striped polo. The garment feels heavy and uncomfortable. Truthfully I much more favored the thin black shirt, but if I wore that I would get poked fun at for sure. With a sigh I pull my jacket on; toss my messenger bag over shoulder and trudge over to my bedroom door. With hand hovering over doorknob, a familar voice reaches my eardrum. My mother's soft, yet firm, tone calls from downstairs.
"Hurry! You will be late!" Her voice holds the kindness of a real mother, despite her being only my foster mother. My chest tickles to remember my days in the orphanage. Pushing the memories from my mind, and then the door open, I took two stairsteps at a time until I stand at the bottom of the staircase. Glancing at my wristwatch again I sigh. Only ten minutes before I will be late for my first day of high school. A nervous, uneasy sensation settles into my bones. My mother seems to notices, as she stops me before I walk out of the front door and hugs me tightly. I manage not to flinch when she touches me and suprisingly some, not all, of the tension falls away.
"Thanks mom." I whisper as I ease out the doorway, closing it behind me.
When I glance over my shoulder at my house I see my mother wazing ecentrically through the window. Her face lit up with joy I would never understand. It was only school.
I am enjoying my walk. The breeze will occasionally pick up my hair and toss it around my face, coaxing my forward. The leaves dance around me. The birds sing their love songs in the treetops overhead. The sun has just risen, it still stains the sky orange. It's virgin heat coloring my pale skin pink with warmth. Loud footsteps break my attention from nature. My first thought was someone was in a hurry, then I notice there was a quieter second set of thudding filling the air. Two people, at least, were running up behind me. Fast.
Something strikes the small of my back, I stumble forward. Suddenly the sidewalk is rushing up to meet my face. A sharp pain fills my face were it hits the unforgiving concrete. Liquid oozes over my lips, its taste was like pennies. The liquid is warm and thick, it hold an iron taste that makes me gage. My nose is bleeding; a sharp sting causing me to flinch when I touch my face.
"Uh-oh! Looks like you fell." Two boys stand over me. Looking about me, as if for help or for an escape route, I see that my bag had fallen off my shoulder; but now sat in the street. It's contents were strewn around me, paper gliding away with the breeze. The one to the right leans down; his breath smells of mint, a sickening scent that pains my nose all the more.
"What? Your not happy to see us?" Then he pauses for a moment. The grin on his face not levving. When he speaks it is with a false tone of hurt. "You don't rememeber us? It me, Adam."
Actually, I have no idea who these people were, but they seem to know me well enough. I am not sure if I sould be mad that they pushed me or happy to see them. Something told it was not the latter. Their behavior was too rude for them to be any of my old friends. The other boy steps forward then.
"Maybe we need to remind him who we are?" When the boy speaks his friend's, Adam, smile grows.
Adam then reaches down to grab my hair. That is when I remember them. They had beaten me up several times in the past. How could I forget? My mind snaps back to the present. Adam's fingertips graze my hair just as I pull away. His face looks angry at me moving away from him, like I had denied him something huge. He rears his arm back, the muscles pulling taught.
"I remember you two. Adam Indling and Sean Revender, the only kids to fail kindergarten!" Now it is my turn to grin widely. Already the flame in my stomach has flickered on. It is filling my body with warmth the sun could not match. The throbbing pain in my head eases, the blood flow stops, and I feel it begin to heal. For an instance I feel weightless. The fire in my core fueling my actions. I rise, gingerly dusting the dirt from my black pants.
I avert my face so they cannot not see the wide grin that covers my blood stained lips. They would surely beat me if they saw it. Atleast they would try to. Then a heavy hand falls over my thin, wide shoulder. Before I realized what I was doing, I grasp the boys hand with mine and pull him foward. Using his weight, I throw him over my shoulder and onto his back. He is now laying at my feet. A shocked gasp escapes from him, followed by a low moan.
A twinge in the air alerts my sense. Falling into a crouch just at Sean's fist flies into the space my head had just occupied, I then swipe my leg outwareds. He falls onto his back as well. The flame in my stomach dies down instantly. The warmth receeds from my limbs, leaving them cool, hollow. With the flame went the confidence I could win, and my strength. Fear takes the place of the amuzed glint in my eyes. All but forgetting my backpack, I turn away from the scene; running with long strides down the sidewalk.
Several moments after fleeing the scene I stand in front of the high school. Out of breath, but safe, relief washes over me. Closing my eyes I count to ten while taking deep breathes. When I stand erect, my breathing back to normal and my heartrate almost normal, I notice some students giving me stange sideways glances. None of the students walk near me, even though I stand in front of the door to the school. I feel like a rock in the center of a river, causing the water to carve around me.
A small figure is moving frivolously in my periphal vision. My eyes slowly move up, resting on the object just ten yards away. A boy with an insane grin, his slit, oval green eyes brim with enthusiasm. Red hair jumps about his tan head as he trods over to me.
Ian Kinge. My best friend since kindergarten.
"Where have you been?! You just missed it! Tanner Trevin got slapped by some seventh grader!" Ian's voice is slightly femine but not annoyingly high or squeeky. He is always cheerful, gossipy; just like a teenage girl. His laughter stops abruptly. Cold, thin hands cup my face. I cannot help but flinch away from his touch. A worried look fills Ian's eyes as he tilts my head to one side, then the other. He purses his lips while trying to decide something. Finally he takes his hands from my face and speaks.
"Was your nose bleeding? You've got blood all over your face." A frown taints his elvish, usually joyous face. It looks completely out of place.
"Yeah. Adam and Sean jumped me. I got away, but had to leave my backpack." Tugging my jacket sleeve over my hand I rub the drying blood off my face. That was why our clasmates had been shooting me weird looks. The jacket sleeve turns red by the time all of the blood is off my face.
"Oh, ok. Well, are you alright?" Ian is smiling, it was lost only temporarily. Why he asked if I was alright, I do not know. He already knows the answer. He knows what I am. That I am not the 'homosapien' like most on this planet. It is because of that, that I healed so quickly. A strange blood, rare, unknown to humans, flows in my veins. I am a Drenill, a species that is as old as the dirt I stand on. No mythology class teaches of the species I am, for no one but a handful of non-Drenill even knows of it. It is a secret kept so tightly that even breathing the word to someone could earn you your death. But I trust Ian, so my secret is safe.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Hey, can I borrow a notebook and a pen? My backpack is..." I allow my sentence to trail off. Ian nods with a knowing smile.
The first bell splits into the air with shrill urgency. It demands everyone inside. The students that had been loitering outside walk slowly into the school. I follow behind Ian, but due to his short demeanor he is gone from my sight within a mere second. Weaving through the crowd I, at long last, reach Ian's locker. He shuffles things around for a moment, his smile never wavering, then he hands me a small orange notebook and a pen with a pumpkin attached to the end.
"Sorry it's all I have to spare." He offers a grin, flashing me with his white teeth.
"So where is your locker?" he quieries. My spine stiffens at the memory of me tucking my schedule into my backpack this morning.
"I've got to go and get my schedule. See you." Before Ian can reply I walk into the crowd.
The office is just down the hall, my treck was quick; which is a nice thing for me today, since I did not much enjoy walking trhough crowded halls--being pushed and bumped into. In fact I dislike it when anyone touches me, even my mother. Does that make me weird? I shrug mentally at the thought while the office aid hands me my schedule.
By the time I exit the office the hallways are scarce. Has the tardy bell rung already? With one eye on my first period class number and one on the numbers above the doors of the rooms I find my class with no trouble. The door is slightly ajar. My hand just touches the cool metal doorknob when the bell blasts through the air. I nearly jump out of my converse. A short squeek manges to come out of my throat, causing me to frown and hurriedly enter the room.
Thankfully no one stands at the front of the room, so I am in no danger of a scolding for my failure to meet the school bells order. Unthankfully, however, the only remaining seat is directly beside Sean. In the back of the room. Where teachers rarely directs their attention. Sean smiles and pats the chair beside him encouragingly. With the other hand he motions for me to come foward. Groaning I drag my feet. As soon as I step near his seat he stretches his leg. For the second time that day the ground rushes up to meet me. It welcomes me back with a hard slap to the forehead. This time I managed to catch myself--for the most part--with my hands.
The room erupts in laughter. This was when the teacher enters the room; he is big and burrly looking with a scraggly beard and shoulders wider than mine. His voice is just as gruff as his appearance. The children straightened in their seat and I take mine, rubbing my pulsing forehead absentmindely.
Sean smirks at me the entire class.
The rest of the day flies by in a hazy rush of coloring, faces, and boring subjects. In all my classes either Sean or Adam, or both in fifth period, greet me with gleeful smiles.
By the time lunch rolls around I tripped enough times to earn a perminent place in the Genius Book of World Records. But I can thank my personal bullies for that. My hands hurt, despite my ability to heal, from catching myself on the floor so many times.
To my relief Ian saves me a seat beside him, and on a table off to the back were only a few people sit. There is no tray of food beside me, and the smell of Ian's lunch does not make me hungry in the least. Actually I have a rather peculiar diet, which can be tacked to the ever growing list of traits of a Drenill. Human food, no matter what or how much, gives me such an emmense pain that I never dare to let it even pass my teeth. I shudder at the thought.
Only one thing sounds appetizing to me. It is rather unbelievable, though. Invisible, immeasurable in value, and impossible to prove its existence. Which is ironic since it is the very sustance that keeps people alive, and yet few believe in it. It is most commonly called an aura, or life force, or even soul. Soul is one of my favorite names for it, I smile at that.
At the moment, Ian's aura is overflowing with a surplus of energy. It spills out around his body like a fog, slow moving but thick. It is tinted an iredecent gold, my favorite. Gold was the best.
Like a prefessional testing a fine wine, I close my eyes, take a deep breath and savor the aroma only I can smell. The small flame lights once again in my stomach. It grows, as if stretching, it's warmth changes to a burning heat. The need to be fed. The pain of fire inside my body grows everytime I inhale.
Slowly my eyelids open. Ian's green iris are staring at me, a strange look in his pupils. His aura is pulled close to his skin, as if to protect itself from my hunger. Ian knew what I was doing. After a moment of deliberation he decides to smile. At the upturn of his mouth his aura flits out from him again, as if it also decides to trust me. It was not a strange reaction, this was his usual behavior. Besides, it is not like I would get embaressed or regret feeding. After all, I am proud of what I am. I return his smile caually, as if it had not happened. The flame in my stomach does not like me ignoring it, so it reaches out before I can calm it and causes my stomach to rumble loudly.
"What color is it, today?" Ian asks with a laugh, while biting his cheeseburger in half. With his cheeks pudging with food he looks three years younger. Which is not good since he already looks like a middle schooler.
"Gold." I finger the borrowed notebook in front of me, the flame burning my inside--demanding to be satisfied. Ian notices, because he sighs and whispers, as if in defeat, "Go ahead."
Closing my eyes again I give into the flame, it overwhelms my senses. I feel as if I have been encaked in fire from the inside out, yet it is so pleasurous. I shook slightly and hear Ian giggle, a girlish euphonic sound that makes me smile. I lay my head down on the table with my eyes shut and focuse on the flame, on the give and take of feeding my flame. If I ever happen to take too much from someone they would die. So in turn for borrowing from them I give them a small amount of mine to, in a sense, 'hold them over' until their soul can heal itself.
Feeding has an even bigger danger, however. Since I am a Drenill if I am to share my blood and aura with someone they will cease to be human. That is how Drenills are most commonly made. I am an excepsion to this, of course since I was born and not made. Ian and I have never shared blood, though, so we are perfectly fine for the time being. If we ever did, for whatever reason, share blood and Ian turned to a Drenill, I would most likely have to kill him. I furrow my brow at the thought. Fledgling Drenill are rare these days, but extremely dangerous. It would be the best thing to do, I decide.
The lunch bell sounds, entering my skull and reverating like an echo in my head.
The flame softens, residing back to the pit of my stomach. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I follow Ian out of the cafeteria. We have art next, so we walk to the room together, telling our stories of the day so far. Then take our seat at the back of the room, away from the rest of the people. Ian may act bubbly and energetic but he is suprisingly asocial. Crowds make him nervous and most people simply irritate him. I do not have much confidence, which is why I did not like to socialize. It is also why I sometimes try to fit in--which is useless. Like when I changed my shirt this morning.
Shaking the thoughts from my head I look around the room, neither Sean nor Adam are in sight, which is a huge relief to me. I do, however, see an unfamilar boy sitting in the front row. He has dyed stark-white hair that curles around his face like mine. He turns his head slightly, our gazes lock. His eyes held something in them. Trying to act casual I turn my head back at Ian. He is zoned out. Did the boy in the front row have the same eyes as me? Drenill eyes? The pale gray eyes with a black ring around the iris and flecks of blue near the pupil. The eyes that always held such power and wisdom. My heart almost stopped at the thought of there being someone else like me. I sigh and turn my attention to the teacher, who is lecturing the class on the procedure of her room.
For the entire class my eyes continuously dart from the strange boy to the teacher. I need to see his eyes again. I needed to talk to him. My head swims with questions. Was he a Drenill, too?
The bell rings, echoing through the hollow, cave-like room. Much like it did to my head in the cafeteria. Ian is the first out of the door, he hates crowds after all. The boy in the front takes his time to gather his things. The classroom is almost empty by the time he walks towards the door. I wait, ready to ask my first question. It is poised on the tip of my touch, the words pepared to tip over into the air when I open my mouth. The boy with dyed stark-white hair shoves his fair skinned hands into his pants pockets. Our eyes meet again. He is almost certainly a Drenill. His eyes are like an exact copy of mine.
"Why were you starring at me?" the boy asks. His voice was low and just as cold as his expression. His blunt attitude catches me off gaurd.
"I was trying to see something." I think my answer will end that line of thought so I can ask my own questions.
"If I am human? Because you so obviously are not." His words almost make me fall over. My breath stops, frozen just like my words. Now there was no doubt in my mind. He was not human.
"I am Teddy," the boy says when I do not relpy. A hint of a grin plays at his lips. His eyes do not change, they remain cold and serious.
"I am Grey Hendrow," I say after a long pause. Teddy and I walk quietly for a moment.
"So you are the legendary Grey?" Teddy cocks his head to the side, peering at me from an angle. His eyes as cold and bitter as before.
"Legendary?" I query. I wonder if my eyes look as strange as his.
"You are the Tekly Drenill, are you not? Am I mistaken?" The name made me flinch. I hate being called that. It is like a poison to my memory, it is the name I remember from reading the book my mother gave me. After another long pause I answer, "What is a Tekly Drenill?" I am playing dumb, I know exactly what it is. It is me.
"You know presicely what I speak of, Tekly Grey." He knows I am playing, he sees straight through my facade. There is no use in a pontless lie, I suppose.
"Fine. I am the Tekly Drenill of the legends. I am the last, and greatest, Tekly Drenill of the Acient Order of Dragons, I am 'Tekly Grey' ." I sighed. My confesion obviously pleases him, but only tightens my chest with every word. Teddy smiles, laughing quietly, nodding in aggreement. He then adds, "Not entirely true, however; but I will accept that."
For the remander of my classes I sit with Teddy and Ian. Ian really hits if off with Teddy, he even gets him to laugh. I watch them talk, almost in a daze. When the final bell rings Ian leaves the room quickly, leaving Teddy and I to converse alone yet again. But I do not want to talk to him at the moment so I walk out of the front door and begin to walk home. Only to realize Teddy is behind me. I almost jump out of my skin. He smiles and matches his pace with mine.
"Are you following me?" I lessen my pace slightly. Unsure of what to do.
"And if I were?" Teddy looks more serious than before; my calm face fell momentarily, replaced with a stark look of panic. "I am just kidding. I live this way."
"I guess we can walk home together, then." My voice skeptict. Several minutes of awkward silence pass betweeen us. Atleast, it is awkward for me, anyways. There is no telling with him. I watch him from the corner of my eyes.
"So you are a Drenill, right?" I ask. I already know the answer. His eyes said it for me.
"Yes, I am. Actually I am both deepy hurt and shocked that you did not recognize me." His eyes are bitter still, only somehow suprisingly more so. A moment more passes as I think back. Not one memory comes to mind of him.
"Have we met?" I finally ask. Teddy shakes his head, frowning, as if he truely is hurt by my question. Maybe he is.
"Have you not been taught of basic Drenill history?" Teddy's voice is strained. I gulp. Who is he? The book my mother had given me had mentioned something of a person named Teddy. But what is it? Breath catchs in my throat, my heart speeds up.
"You're also one of the Tekly Drenill of the Ancient Order of Dragons." I gasp at my realization. "Wait, that can't be possible! I thought I was the last one!"
"You are not, there are three others of the original fourteen other than you alive at this time." We had stopped walking. Teddy looks at me, a pain filling his eyes. He looks as if he had just witnessed a very old and good friend die. It is something I do not understand, but for some reason want to fix. When Teddy speaks again his voice breaks and he sounds on edge, like he is about to cry or yell, "So you truthfully do not remember?" He bends his neck down, snow hair covering his eyes.
I respond, without thinking, following my instincts. I listen to the flame in my stomach and hug Teddy. I do not flinch though, this suprises me. It was as if we are brothers who had been seperated for years and just met again. Perhaps that was what the pain in Teddy's eyes was. Whatever it was, it filled me with such a ratiating pain that I felt physically ill.
"Brother. Tekly." I sigh as a memories fill my mind. Lost memories that I am not supposed to remember, memories of my long ago past and all the things I did not know I knew.
Now I know who he is. He is my brother from a very, very long time ago.
"How I have missed your company, dear Tekly Grey." Teddy pats my back and when I look into his eyes again I see that the bitter pain has been replaced by a relieved joy.
(Please do not steal anything from this as it is all mine. I hope to get this published for real when I finish so DO NOT steal anything. I claim copyright as mine and mine alone! If you do steal 'what comes around goes around'.)
