The boy startled awake. This isn’t my bed. And indeed it wasn’t.

He appeared to be in a small alleyway. It wasn’t bad as far as alleys go. There wasn’t much trash, and it was fairly clean as well.

What happened? I don’t think that I live here.

He felt that there was something he was forgetting. As he thought about it, he realized that he didn’t remember much of anything.

He remembered that his first name was Aeron, what certain things were, and not much else. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was wearing a nondescript white T-shirt and some baggy cargo shorts.

Patting his pockets, he found a strange black pocket knife, a bronze pocket watch that looked like it might be an antique, a small strip of paper with an address written on it, what might be an apartment key with a number one written on it, and a leather wallet that had about fifty dollars in it along with a Florida state drivers license that listed his name as Aeron Paterson.

Based on the image, he had black hair, bright, mercurial silver eyes, and a scar above his right eye, as if he had been hit with a blunt object a long time ago. All in all, he liked his appearance, with the exception being the fact that the picture made him look like he was all brawn and no brain.

He got up and left the alley, taking a look at the street. It looked like it was the middle of August He appeared to be about a mile away from a mall of some kind.

He decided to head for the mall and see if he could get help from the security desk.

As he walked, he decided he ought to further examine the strange knife.

The knife blade was about 3 ½ inches long, black, and had some very small gold and bronze filigree inlaid along the sides of the blade, along with a sharp silver edge. It was slightly curved in the shape of a claw towards the main cutting edge. He also noticed that it was sharpened for about a half-inch down the back-side of the blade as if to help with stabbing or gouging. The handle appeared to be a very pale steel on one side, and some sort of bluish metal on the other. The blade and handle were connected by a small, excellently-cut deep black gemstone that might have been some form of obsidian. It was equipped with a locking mechanism apparently made out of regular iron.

This thing is probably worth a small fortune. Or even a large one.  

However, the strangest part of the whole knife was that, despite the warm summer day, the blade was Icy cold, and the handle was almost uncomfortably warm.

He looked up, noticing for the first time that there were several people staring at him, some with curiosity, and others with unmistakable greed.

He immediately hid it away and instead started to examine the pocket watch. It seemed to be a standard old pocket watch, round, about two inches across and made of either copper or bronze, though he wasn’t sure which. The only exception was the numbers, which were small black diamond patterns, and the back, which had a black fire opal cut in the shape of a scythe embedded in it. The golden hands were of the constantly sweeping type and were slightly tarnished as if they had been touched constantly by whoever had owned it previously. Looking up, he realized that he had just reached the mall.

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The sign above the main entrance read Mall of Rome. Since the sign was in English, and everyone was speaking English, he surmised that they did not mean Rome, Italy.

Spotting a store manager who was hurrying by, he headed over to talk to him.

“Sir, could you give me directions to the main security desk?” he called after the man.

“Turn right as soon as you exit the store, when you reach the central area, turn left, walk 50 feet and the desk will be on your right!” the man called back over his shoulder, without turning around.

Shrugging, he left the store and went to the left, stopping as he reached the main area. In the center was a statue of a she-wolf feeding two baby boys. Looking up, his jaw dropped. The ceiling was designed as a pendentive dome, with amazingly detailed paintings of various Roman gods on it.

Picking his jaw up off the floor, he managed to tear his eyes away from the ceiling long enough to get his bearings and continue his trek to the security desk.

When he arrived, he was confronted by a security guard, “Don’t tell me. Someone stole your bag as well?”

“Actually, no.”

“What is it then?” the guard asked, looking like he was hoping for a break-in or something.

“I just need some help locating my appar—” he paused, realizing that it might seem suspicious for a minor to own an apartment, “—my aunt’s apartment complex. I just arrived in town, and she isn’t answering her phone.”

“Alright,” the guard sighed, “What’s the address of the apartment?”

He passed the guard the piece of paper.

“Oh, your aunt lives at the new Villa Romana apartment complex?”

He nodded, surprised that the guard knew the address by memory.

“Those are the best apartments in town, although I wouldn’t mention the fact that you will be living there, that’s liable to get you mugged, just because of the fact that you might be rich. I didn’t even realize that anyone lived there yet. Are you going to be attending the school next door?”

“School?”

“What is it with teenagers these days, always answering a question with another question?” the guard muttered under his breath. “Yes, a school. Bart’s School for Teens with Unusual Abilities. A strange name, sure, but they only accept the best, and those that complete the curriculum are guaranteed to go far, although always in some strange field. I just figured that, with your eyes, you would.”

“What is it like? And what’s wrong with my eyes?”

“It is apparently a very elite school, though I’ve only ever seen three students, although I’m pretty sure that there are others. As for your eyes, well, if you didn’t realize, your eyes are silver. That isn’t exactly normal.”

“Has the school year started yet? When did it first open?”

“Are you even capable of asking just one question at a time? Or do they always have to come in pairs?”

“I believe that you were just guilty of that very same fault.”

“Indeed I was,” he said, smiling. “In answer to your questions, the year started three weeks ago, although some students apparently go year round. It opened about five years ago.”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that. Now, can you tell me how to get to the apartments?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute and I’ll write it down.”

After he got the paper from the guard, he left the building and headed for his new home.