The Orphan Boy
Author's note: Many books that I have read, like Eragon, The Septimus Heap series, and other fantasy books have... Show full author's note »
A Prison in DisguiseScattered and splintered shards of memories. Flickering visions that fly away as quickly as they arrive. This was all Eleron remembered of his parents. Nights upon nights he lay in his cramped and creaky bed, wondering what they would have looked like, felt like, and been like.
He dreamed of fantasies both great and small, where he was a mighty king, who lay atop a majestic and sprawling castle, with the setting sun at his back and his eyes gazing upon all he ruled. But then, on other days, he harbored dreams (more like nightmares) of reality and cruelty of the real world and all he really ruled, which wasn’t much. Then after his melancholy epiphanies of reality, he would always stare at the steel walls with a sense of longing, as is if he could just rip the rusted and overlapping strips apart and soar into the night and his freedom. After a period of what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, Eleron finally shut his eyes once more and drifted into the land of Nod.
To both his right and his left, there were nearly 70 outstretched rows of wooden cots, all of which accommodated an orphan of its own. And the crux of the hallway was none but the strict and miserly warden’s room. The words “YOU WILL REGRET IT” were emblazoned in blood red paint on the door, and the perpetual scowl seen on the warden’s face only confirmed her steadfast motto.