Silent Intent

Silent Intent.

I step into the shower and let the water run over my body, washing away the mud and blood and the stench of sweat. My heart aches and so does my body. I wonder ‘how did it come to this?’


When I was two years old, my father died. My mum was every thing to me, all I had, we had no other family. So it was just me and mum, in the country, alone. When I was five all that changed. She died from liver failure so I was sent to an orphanage in the north. I don’t remember crying just my world falling apart. Yanea a slim Elven lady in a black suit came to stay with me, the family friend arranged the funeral. He assured me every thing would be ok; I wonder if he ever knew how wrong he was.
After the funeral me and Yanea took the train, I wont name the place for even now I fear it. My things were confiscated the moment I arrived. The building they had brought me too was a large mansion of a sort; it was nothing like my mothers humble tree cottage at the edge of a village. The mansion was large and there were several sub level with tunnels branching off.
My room was little more than a windowless box room, a single bed, a dressing table and a cupboard and a bathroom attached, the walls were a cold grey stone. I ate alone in my room that night and Yanea came and got me changed into my night dress. They called lights out and a turned them off. My five year old self was engulfed by fear. The sound of a door opening and closing and a flash of a torch blinded me for a few seconds. I felt my bed shift with the slight weight of another person. I couldn’t even scream I was so afraid.
“Hi” came a soft voice and the light of the torch moved illuminating the strangers pale face and big green eyes. “I’m Jimonbell”
“Hi” I just about managed to squeak out the words. “I’m Kadoria”

From that moment on Jimonbell was every thing to me. In the morning she’d sneak back into her own room and change into the uniform we were provided with. Our Uniform was plain black shirt and jumper with a red and black tie, a black pleated skirt, long black knee high socks and plain shoes for the girls the boys wore the same black shirts and jumpers and black and red tie with trousers. Jimonbell was a year and a half older than me.
The first thing I learnt about this school was playtime was a thing of the past but at the age of five you never truly understand these things.
From that day forward the routine that was set before me by the authorities of our schools I would be forced to keep for the next fifteen years.
Every morning for the next fifteen years my life would go as follows. Five AM wakeup call, breakfast at five thirty, morning prayers at six, kung fu at six thirty until eight. Then various classes until one PM. we had an hours lunch and a break but in older years these we used for practice and bullying those who weren’t strong enough. After lunch more classed until five PM At Five PM we’d have to be out side or in the large main hall learning archery. There were only twenty Elflings in my class all the same age as myself. Jimonbell wasn’t one of them; she was in the class above me. Every day our teachers, who we’d refer to as Sir or Madame, would tell us how were we’re special, specially chosen, how we were unique and they were trying to help us achieve our best. Each class of twenty was taught to work as a team and tight bonds of friendships were formed. We had to rely on each other because the Sir’s and Madame’s punishments were brutal. The beatings locked in solitude in the deep dungeons under the main part of the school. The separate classes usually stayed away from each other. Me and Jimonbell never spoke to each other until after lights out. We were told we could only trust those in our class but I trusted Jimonbell. Every night she’d sneak into my bed and we’d sleep in the safety of each others arms.