Chapter 1 / Loss

Emrel relaxed gingerly on an oak chair at the kitchen table for his 15th birthday and sliced himself a piece of his favorite chicken pot pie. Emrel didn't look like much, brown hair and green eyes. He had a slim, but athletic look to him, his skin was tanned to a soft brown from working in the scorching heat.

"So, Em, how was work?" His mother questioned as she sat next to him. Emrel, whom she called Em, worked as a husbandman at a nearby farm. The farm was owned by James, a local farmer and friend of Emrel's mom. He was a halfling, but rather nice to Emrel.

"The usual, though today I was allowed to bring back some crops." He placed a basket which held an assortment of fruits and vegetables onto the makeshift table. When he placed it down it creaked from the weight of the items.

"Emrel Isac Gabriel Hemmelton, How many times have I told you not to put your farm things on the table!"

"I know mum, I know." But neither removed the basket from where it had been placed. "Where's Dior?" Em asked.

His mother smiled, "Dior is helping out the old nanny next door.. That girl is always helping everyone, what a kind heart she has." Emrel already knew this, but he only asked to make his mother smile.

Dior was Half Elf, so most people treated her nicely. Emrel however was a full blooded human, hated to the core. No matter where he went glares followed.

His mom sat down and began to eat. After she gulped down a bite of food she stood up shaking. She staggered backward, feet wobbling. She walked to the wall and placed her hand against it.

Emrel stopped eating and ran over to her. He held a hand across her back.

"Mom," she hurled over and blood spat out of her mouth, his eyes widened, "MOM!"

His mother stumbled into the kitchenette and reached into a high cabinet, in her hands a glass vial. She placed her hands on Emrel's shoulders.

"If they find me dead they'll think you killed me. Emrel, I can't have that." Emrel was confused, so he just stared. "Burn the house and run." Hands shaking, she placed her hand over his. Slowly she opened her hands and dropped a vial in his.

"M-mom, you're joking right. This is gonna be ok, they won't think I-"

"I don't give a damn! Emrel you have to listen to me. Go to the address on the paper. Find him and tell him what happened here." She looked in his eyes, they were serious and confident, "I have a terminal illness, I knew I would die, just- just not this soon. They don't know this, we are just bugs to them, they don't care what we have. Dior is safe, she was at the nannies house, y-you however," She coughed, blood spewed out and her words became shaky, "Your here. They will think you k-k-killed me." She leaned on the wall and began to sit down.

"Mom, you won't die, you won't." He began to cry, "You cant die."

She shook her head, "Emrel, do exactly as I say. Burn the house. We have a lantern and oil in the kitchen." She coughed, and her skin seemed to pale before his eyes, " Then run. Go to the station and- and," again she coughed, he placed a hand on her and listened, Gulping back tears,

Emrel was in shock, he was too frightened to say anything, "open the vial I gave you. In it is an address with a map on the back," more blood, it had begun to stain the wood, and she started to whisper, "when you get there, say M-Mazzy sent you. Tell him what happened here and he'll," the floor had become red, Emrels pants were wet and sticky with blood, "he'll help you."

Em looked at her, now crying, tears gushing out of him. He realized she looked scared, frightened. She was just as afraid as he was. He pulled her in and embraced her. She smiled, and Emrels tears covered her back. And slowly, she began to close her eyes, resting for eternity.

Em walked out of the house and ran. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he trusted his mother and what she thought. He stopped at the town gate and pulled the bottle out of a coat pocket. He plucked the cork out of the small vial. Then he turned the vial over and the paper slid down. He unraveled the parchment to see the paper was filled with creases, wrinkles, holes, and rips. He read neat cursive letters that had been written on the paper. The note read, "Drowlin, 27th street. Evan's house." Emrel knotted his brows, he had studied maps as a hobby and had never heard of Drowlin street before. Through the paper, Em saw pen writing. He turned the paper over carefully and on it was a messy map from where he lived (Gelembirg, Saquire street) to Drowlin 27th street.

Emrel stared skeptically at it. Trust. That was the one word that reminded him. Trust his mother. Em walked down a small hill. The sun had started to go down, and it was captivating. This was the pride of Gelembung; the sundowns. His eyes were glued to the movie-like beauty before remembering his task. He hurried into town.

"On chores for your mother Emrel?" Andrea, an old maid in the town, called to Emrel.

"Not quite ma'am," Emrel replied, " But my mom has asked me to do something." As Emrel hurried off, he heard Anna say, "What a dear that boy is."

Emrel walked off and went to the train station. The moment he stepped into the station eyes gazed on him. As he walked he got pushed, and hit. A wall of whispers folled him as he walked to buy a ticket to Velendor. According to the map on the back of the slip of parchment, he must go through Velendor to get to Drowlin.

The map on the letter had shown Emrel a path. It showed a line going to the station and into Velendor. From there he would go to Foloin's capital, Zes. This journey might take some time and effort, but his mother had trusted him and that was what he'd do.