A torrent of wind ripped through the shawl of a worn robe, revealing a alabaster shine from within it's darkness. She wove her way through the freezing water with a hand clutched inside her own, being a small child with a shock of ivory hair. A small smile grinned back at her, without judgment or concern of what was to come. Her face remained blank, but within a twinge of both guilt and joy threw itself against her rib cage like a frightened bird. This child knew nothing of the cruel fate that awaited him. Yet he gave her the purest sense of excitement as he trailed his small fingers through the stream as they traversed through the river side.

            She really hadn't a choice but to take this path, both literally and mentally. She could not allow her son to be used as some foul sacrificial lamb for a man that had only his sights set on destruction.

            “Robin come now. We must hurry.” The woman said in a hush. Though she knew what she had done was a terrible price to pay for her son's innocence, she couldn't help but feel both horror and accomplishment by saving her precious child from the hands of evil intentions.

            “But why? Isn't daddy coming with?” There was a genuine look of disappointment in his dark gray eyes. They seemed to swallow up all the light from around them and fixate on his pupils. Almost as they glowed in the setting sun. She then paused a moment as she felt the wash of guilt flow through her entire being. Was this the right thing to do? “Mom? Why are you crying? Did you stub your toe?”

            “Yes honey, I'm so sorry.” She knelt with a slow crouch and didn't care what her mind told her to do. She wanted her emotions to know she was right, she didn't care if the logic was right or wrong. “We won't be seeing your friends or daddy for...a time. We're going for a little trip out to the city. We won't be back for some time.”

            “What? Really? Can we get some trinkets for them then when we get back? I'll miss them a lot! I'm sure they'll want to know all about it too!” Robin said this without a hint of malice but as his mother stared into his pools of silver, she shuddered to think that this innocent little boy would eventually bring the world to its knees. She couldn't let that happen, she wouldn't let it happen.

            “Also Robin,” she said as she stood up after regaining her senses, “since we're going to be in a new place, you're going to have to call me something else other than 'mommy'.”

            “Why?” Robin asked in a cheery tone as they finally got out of the creek and onto dry land. They had bundled their shoes and lower garments into a bundle on their heads in order to prevent them from getting wet. It was deathly cold at night, so they weren't able to take any chances with catching a sickness from being cold. “What should I call you then mommy?”

            “Lola. How's that sound sweetie?”

            “Lola. Lo-lo la-la” He seemed to enjoy rolling the words around in his mouth and gave a huge grin to show his approval. “Okay so you're mommy Lola! Lola mommy!” He redressed himself as she did and she patted him on the head as her sign of endearment. This poor child of mine. What has he done to deserve any of this...

Several years later...

Leaning back in a rickety and dangerously balancing-act of a chair, the young man sat his leather boot bound feet up on the equally feeble table while reading a thick tome of long forgotten tactics by wars of old. He chewed on the tip of quill pen as his thoughts weaved in and out of the page's lore and what use they could be of any use to the present day tactician. He was by no means a modernist, but he sure did love a good challenge to improve upon even the most legendary considered tactics. Sometimes he wondered how in the world anyone survived in the battles as they were unsightly and more than often outright willing to sacrifice weaker units for the stronger to finish the job. It disgusted him as a human being, but also was indifferent in terms of tactical movements. He wasn't exactly the one able to say what was how it should be yet, he was still but something of an apprentice.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

                “Jack!” A muffled shout cam from somewhere in the room. His granite colored eyes momentarily flicked upwards and over the heavy old book and then returned to their original position. “I know you're there!” He heard again and this time slammed the book and several layers of dust flushed out from the pages. He then proceeded to resume a casual sitting posture and picked at his teeth with the tip of the quill.

                “My name isn't Jack. Get it right first. Maybe then...” He trailed off in obvious mockery.

                “NOW JACK! I CAN'T BREATHE DAMN YOU.” The sounds of the scream were rather loud and obnoxious. They were coming from a oddly crammed full line in a shelf of massive tomes. The short white haired boy rubbed the back of his neck vigorously as if trying to shake fleas off much to his annoyance. “ORIN? LORIN? BOB?” Now the idiot was just toying with him.

                “ROBIN. R-O-B-I-N. ROBIN' He said as he pulled a stack of books from the supposedly innocent looking shelf and with a sudden stream of books flying off it, a man tumbled out of the before-crammed space. “You think I'd not notice? How numb are you?” Robin sneered slightly but wasn't really angry, more thoroughly perturbed and amused at the same time of the foolish underclass man. All but one book covered the person's face and he picked it up momentarily as he looked in the eye his dearly annoying but enjoyable friend. “Hmm. The ladies would have a hard time with your position, Ronaldo. Not very charming or attractive. Now pucker up.” He let the book slam back onto the face of Ronaldo and with a heavy thunk it punched him squarely in the face upon landing.

                “R-Robin why are you so mean to me!!” The other boy squealed slightly like a stuck pig and Robin stuck his pinky in his ear much to his already I've-had-enough-already dead plain face.

                “Get up Porky, we need to get to class. You're alarm clock like screaming skills are useful at least.” Robin heaved the previously read tome from the table and proceeded to walk out the door before Ronaldo caught up to him. “You're quicker then you look.”

                “Where in the world do you get off calling me fat?” His flopping belly bounced and nearly tossed Robin out the nearby window with its girth.

                “What would you prefer then? Girthanldo?” He cocked a grin and flashed a toothy smirk his friend's way.

                “THAT IS MY UNCLE NOT ME DAMNIT.” Ronaldo barked in a sweat induced pace to catch up with Robin.

                “The fact your uncle was actually called that makes me consider some serious reasons to make sure stupid people should breed during war. They'd willingly die just for a pound of sizzling bacon. With no regrets but a greasy smile. You should be grateful, you're one of the luckier ones anyways. I...think.” He had to pause a moment to get his point across to Ronaldo. He grinned again with a hint of malicious intent.

                “First I'm fat and now I'm stupid? What kind of friend are you ass hat?” Ronaldo said with a sputter of gasping air.

                “I don't recall you being called either of those. I simply gave an option to neither but something else, so naturally you assumed I said that. And you don't ware hats on your ass, but I shudder to think what would happen if you tried, personally.” Robin threw his head back and squinted his eyes with a large snarky look of achievement. “You're the best kind of buddy though to tolerate me anyways. I give you a A- for effort but lacking charisma.”

                “Oh for the love of...just whatever. You're just as a freak. Don't you try and push this off on me.” Robin gave a sidelong glance and stated,

                “Oh stop it. You're embarrassing me. I might cry into my pillow at night.” Ronaldo huffed and his face turned the color of a beet.

                “How'd you know I do that?” He bleated in Robin's direction.

            “Fun fact? I didn't. Thanks for letting me in the details anyways!” Robin then bolted as Ronald looked ready to strangle a certain someone with his ham sized hands. Once thing was for sure, the two boys had been nearly inseparable ever since they met nearly a decade ago. Long enough for them to know just how cruel the other was in a sense of humor. They enjoyed each other's company as much as they wanted to light the other on fire. It was all because Lola, Robin's mother, had the funny idea of enrolling Robin when he met Ronaldo, gifted in the art of a snyergist, in a academy for the gifted when they first moved to Ryedale City. Robin bonded with Ronaldo over many things and tribulations their family had gone through to make it to the bustling modern day city of Ryedale. And they would soon discover even more trouble in the days ahead of them.