Into the Embassy

Cameron

His mother's glare silenced him. Her polished fur coat glinted in the eerie light. "I don't care." she spat, "I haven't seen you in three months, Cameron. Why, even bother coming back? I am not allowing you to go to the continent. You will not be going to that embassy building. And if they come looking, I will personally make sure neither them, nor anyone else will ever find you." She shouted louder, taking a few steps towards him.

Ron spied a half empty bottle on the end table with a cup of melting ice beside it. Unfortunately it was going to be that way…

"Having trouble?" A voice resounded from the room across from his. Cameron flinched. His mother scowled, showing her chipped teeth. She looked more like a vampire.

"Cameron needs to learn his place—" Lady Anwir began, the pitch of her voice like a child's.

At the mention of his name, a hulking figure appeared in the doorway. "Why your mama wants a skinny little elusive brat like you is beyond me. But if she says something… you better listen to her. She ain't alone this time." The floor creaked as he advanced, Cameron's mother stepping behind him. Her latest partner, Brycin, was one of the worst.

Cameron hadn't planned on coming back home ever again, but two of Audenzitios' goons dumped him on his mother's porch with a few new bruises moments earlier. Because of a letter that granted him admission to a prep school on the mainland. He should have been excited.

He joined Gisa's gang three months ago after another one of his mother's many lovers almost killed him. Back then… He had tried to reign in his temper and he hadn't meant to but… He'd just lost it. After catching one of the men his mother was seeing stealing from them, dragging his shady business into their house… He couldn't keep it to himself.

Cameron saw himself, the skinny dark haired kid waving his arms, finally letting out everything he had pent up. His memory flashed to his mother's screams as her partner shoved a heavy fist into his gut, knocking him to the floor. Bones crunched. Blood sprayed. Vision blurred. He didn't know how long he lay on the ground being beaten, kicked at. He couldn't breathe. He was choking on something in his throat. Coughing something up that splattered crimson on the floor. And that's when they showed up.

Gisa and a crowd of other people burst through the door. Camden and another man wrestled his mother's partner to the ground.

He was the one who tipped off their gang that the fugitive and murderer was here at his house. That his mother's lover was the one they were hunting. He had been scared to reveal him when he'd seen a few of the gang members asking around. But eventually… he shivered as he recalled it. He'd almost died. He wasn't supposed to be back here.

"They've never cared about us, Cameron! You weren't there when they locked us in here. You weren't there when they threw away the key. When they laughed and left us here to rot. You think the king is all innocent and perfect just because he rules the princesses, princes and the disgusting little commoners who live merry little lives? I watched people beaten and taunted as they were thrown in here. They only care about themselves. You watch. You'll end up back here anyway. Mark my words."

His mother was scowling at him, but he didn't budge. He was done dealing with her. She seemed to know it too.

"Get your things and get out." She said flatly. "I don't ever want to see you on my doorstep again."

So Cameron left. He let his mother throw anything she wanted at him, let the shouting continue, before he walked out the door and didn't turn back. He shivered, walking down the rainy streets, a garbage bag with all of his possessions slung over his shoulder. The train tracks were nearing. And if he was correct the train should have been approaching a moment ago. The rain began to soak through his hoodie, matting his hair. At least his bag didn't have any holes in it. After a bone chilling few minutes, the distant clacking of the steam engine could be heard. The train barreled down the tracks, spraying him with muddy water as it flew by.

With a deep inhale, Cameron began to run alongside the train picking up speed as he bolted over the uneven ground. There behind him was a boxcar with an open door. He continued to run, letting it slowly come towards him, before he put on a burst of speed, jumping from the ground. His heart pounded for the half second he flew through the air. Then his hand connected with the hard metal rail, and he flung himself inside, rolling a few times, dropping his bag by the open door before it too rolled to the back of the car.

Mercifully the boxcar was empty, railriders opting for better days to train hop it appeared. Even the streets had been empty. Thunder rumbled outside the boxcar, the sky flashing a few times. Of course he chose a wonderful day to be kicked out of his home. He brushed as much of the dirt off of his clothes as he could. Great. Meeting the royal guard looking like a homeless kid. Technically he was a homeless kid. His mother had just... had just evicted him from his home. His eyes widened as the realization hit him hard, he slid a hand through his dark hair, sending water droplets through the air.

Cameron's eyes wandered to the bleak stone houses and tattered awnings as the train flew by. He was moving too fast to hear people shouting their wares from inside tents and alleyways, to hear the bartering going on. The shout of "Thief!" or angry "That's too expensive."

The train clacked by steadily. They'd be reaching the first station soon. He'd have to jump off before then. People checked the cars for rail riders all the time. It happened almost every time a train reached a station to be unloaded or loaded with whatever supplies it was charged to take. This train was long, but moving swiftly, indicating that it would be loaded up this time.

Cameron pulled his bag from where he'd dropped it over to the edge of the car. The train entered a tunnel, dim lights flickering a sickly yellow color streaked by. After the tunnel ended there was a stretch of meadow filled with stunted grass and stumpy trees. He'd jump off there as the train slowed.

The whistle sounded as the train's breaks began to squeal. It used to frighten Cameron when he was younger. It sounded like someone screaming. He threw his bag, landing it in a soft clump of grass. Then with a deep inhale, he ran out of the door, aiming for another patch of grass devoid of sticks and debris. After he launched himself through the air, trying to keep himself upright, his feet connected with the ground and he crouched into a roll, tumbling down the slight hill, his heart pounding. He'd done this for years and would still never be used to the hard landings.

Cameron stood up, dusting himself off as best he could. He grimaced when his eyes found the rip in his pants right along his knee. The cut was beginning to trickle with blood. Hay, grass, and dirt clung to him everywhere. If he didn't look homeless before, he certainly did now. He grumbled, stomping over to his bag to collect a few things that fell out. If it weren't for his identification papers, Cameron doubted he would be recognizable as the son of Lady Anwir. It was nearly impossible to see the resemblance anyway. His father had been the complete opposite of his mother. His skin was as dark as hers was pale. She was as lean as a twig whereas his father had arms the size of tree trunks. Cameron had brown skin like that of his father, a smattering of freckles and all of his father's facial features. He only inherited the lean half-starved look of his mother and her high pitch voice. It was something he loathed more than anything.

After trekking past the old train station, he took a road towards the island barrier's only entrance and exit. Where he would be leaving this gray world behind. The wind whistled through the streets as the rain reduced to a heavy mist that clung to him. There it was. At the end of the street, sitting right in front of the barrier, was the only upkept building on the entire island. It was made of the same stone, still squat and ugly like the others, but it lacked the mildew and tattered curtains, missing shingles, and patchworked rooftops. Guards were stationed there at all times, armed with magic spells and weaponry that could kill any of them in an instant. All of the once powerful god-like beings from before, held here by an old woman's barrier and a few twenty year old guards. He almost laughed.

He walked to the entrance of the building, pushing a buzzer. "Identification?" asked a female voice, light but firm.

Cameron pulled the papers from his pocket, letting the red lasers scan the rectangle full of dots, dashes and boxes. The light blinked green and a door opened. He let his eyes trace the outline of the steel door before walking inside. It was another small dark room the size of a telephone booth he'd seen in old films and library books. "PLACE ALL BAGS AND DEVICES HERE." a voice said. He glanced over to a small dropbox. With a sigh, he tied the bag shut, and stuffed it down the chute. He yelped as a green line appeared on all four walls, moving up and then down before robotically admitting, "NO WEAPONS FOUND." Another green light blinked, and Cameron stepped through another doorway into a room. A room more spectacular than he'd ever imagined.

His eyes widened as he backed into it, turning in a slow circle. The floor was finished with polished maple wood, gleaming in the light of ornate cast iron lamps. A fire blazed in the hearth, heating the whole room. He cautiously walked over to it, eyeing the beautiful stonework around it. There were a few benches of the same wood. But what caught his eye were the windows. They spread the length and width of the room on two walls overlooking the continent. The sun was shining over the green land. The waters sparkled in the sunlight. He could almost feel the music and laughter that the people who lived there must have felt. And it looked like heaven.