Chapter 2: The Child Of Strife

The Impoverished House Of Magorian, Quroke Haven, Northern, Ireland...

Several Years Later...

Weary little eyes of bright hazel opened to a somewhat familiar bedroom devoid of much of any means of decor and given to a small wooden framed child's bed with barely any covers that didn't drape over the ankles of the formerly slumbering lad about seven years of age and quite thin given his lack of valuable nutrition when he'd been born. He had been growing like a weed despite the earlier concerns of his rather homely mother and the collective older women that has been there the day of his tumultuous birth. The boy looked up at the barely patched ceiling of his bedroom roof. He sighed knowing all too well that being dragged out of bed in accordance with the early morning sun was what his drunken brute of a father had been aiming for once he heard the all too familiar shuffling of the barely stable man's heavy work boots.

Getting out of bed in a hurry, the boy quickly put on the baggy clothes his father could no longer fit that had been sown and stitched to fit his projected height and weight with room to grow had he been up for it, courtesy of his mother. He often wondered why his parents lived in separate houses and why his father only allowed him to live with her when he'd been out to sea. It was an arrangement long agreed upon before he could speak his first word. Like the good lad he'd been Tobias had gone along with it, despite preferring entirely to be with his mother, the good and noble Lady Milenda Collum.

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Milenda Collum's House, Quroke Haven, Northern, Ireland...

Milenda was a fair-skinned, soft-spoken woman with lovely yellow hair, who had been rumored to have lost a husband and a child prior to young Toby being born. He paid it no mind despite finding it a sad occurrence and he had taken it to mean he would have had a sibling had the lovely woman's other child died. Milenda nursed Toby from infancy following the burial of his biological mother Cheyanne and he was told nice stories about the strong woman of foreign birth that had loved him and cared for him as long as she could before finally making a spiritual journey back home, at least it was how his mother put it. His father had called him a "bastard son of a whore" most of the time and threatened to do to him what he'd "done to the lazy Indian woman" he'd had before he was born.

The lad Tobias had found himself liking his rather abrasive and drunken louse of a father less and less unsure what the lovely Milenda ever saw in him despite being grateful to be her son. His mother had taught him about the boundaries of respect, reading, and writing, and even paid for him to go to school on occasion when the drunk had been out at sea seal killing and hunting for better seafood. Little Tobias had not been much of a fan of seafood preferring fresh fruits and vegetables that his mother always had in stock from her garden.

Milenda had done the best she could to shield the boy from his father's wrath and the sad awful truth of his mother's tragic death by being the mother she couldn't be to her own child. Over the years of watching the helpless baby fight for his life and grow despite all odds, she had seen him to reaching the age of eleven before she found herself unable to care for him due to a sudden onset of sickness that seemed to wither away her body.

The kindly woman had kept her sickness to herself as well as her onset of symptoms as she got up at the same time day after day, knowing all too well that her son had been on his way to her house and headed straight for her kitchen where he knew all too well that he'd find her there.

She had the biggest smile on her face when her rather handsome eleven-year-old son entered the kitchen. She noted his well-kept red hair and bright blue eyes as he stepped toward her eager but mindful of her rules when it came to running in her kitchen.

"Hi Mum," he said the happy lad with a pleasant smile.

He'd come a long way from the tiny pale red bundle that she'd spent hours upon hours nursing via her own breast as she'd been the only one producing breastmilk due to her own child when the lad's biological mother had died after giving birth to him.

Melinda had spent a good deal of time and effort getting little Toby to the proper measure of health despite his still being a runt of sorts as he grew older when compared to the other children. She kept him fed and out of trouble more often than not and always stressed the importance of him keeping his nose in a book and away from dangerous things.

The kindly lady had not known Cheyanne very well but she had a feeling the poor woman would have been turning over in her grave if Dollaran had raised the boy himself or he'd grown up and turned out to be an unwanted ruffian just like him.

Having been prepared for his visit, despite him having to sleep in his brute of a father's house since he'd stopped breastfeeding, Milenda had already prepared his breakfast, it was a healthy one with thick plain oatmeal, an exquisite red apple from her apple tree in the back yard, a thin block of cheese, and a nice tall glass of fresh milk.

She'd taken care to ensure he developed healthy eating habits since he wouldn't be getting the valuable nutrients denied to him at home by way of her breast milk given his age. Tobias had not seemed to mind the healthier foods as they were what she wanted him to eat and enjoy. He had been a big fan of cheese despite it not going over well with his intolerance, Milenda had learned to curb it with a glass of milk and he'd gotten on fine so long as the cheese was minimal.

"Alright, eat up or you'll be late for school," she said with a smile.

Little Tobias ate his breakfast and ensured to finish it all knowing how happy it made his Mum to see him eating right. Once he'd been done she collected his dishes and shooed him out the door. He lingered for a bit after noticing her suddenly stop at the kitchen table as if she'd been in pain. Without a word, the little lad rushed over and hugged her tightly as she smiled and turned to kneel down and hug him in return.

"I love you so much," she said with tears behind her lovely blue eyes. "One day you are going to grow up to be big and strong, I just know it."

"And then I can help you move the heavy stuff right Mum?" he asked with an arched brow.

Milenda resisted the urge to let loose her tears for she knew all too well that with the way her body had been failing her as of late, she would not live to see her little boy grow into a man but he had not known it and she had not wanted him to, for she knew that it would shatter his little world.

"Right," she replied before kissing him on the cheek and shooing him out the door. "Now off you go, to school and don't cause any ruckus."

Tobias smiled and took off toward the school house determined to make his mother proud of all the new things he'd get to learn today.

Milena burst into tears as she watched him go.

"Goodbye my little love," she said softly as she made her way back toward the table and set to work tidying the kitchen.

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Later That Afternoon...

Little Toby Magorian had been grief-stricken when he'd been informed that his dear mother had passed away on his way from the schoolhouse where he'd been sent by her that morning. He had not very many friends and often found himself given to reading books alone while the other kids played as he wasn't very big and most often got hurt attempting to play along with them. He had liked writing almost as much as he had read and the adventures his mother had instilled into him from birth about far-off places and wild tales of bravery and treasures untouched by many hands. She'd even begun teaching him Gaelic, and English more often than not.

Eleven-year-old Tobias Magorian rushed home from school to tell his mother all about his day like usual when he found there were people he didn't recognize gathered at her house. They all looked at him with sad expressions filed across their faces and one man, the local priest had attempted to console him as he felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. Inch by inch, Toby entered the house where he'd spent most of his young life amid love and affection and found that there was an ache that filled him unlike any other. It hurt more than his father's beatings when he stepped inside the surprisingly cozy little kitchen where his mother often sat after baking for the afternoon to find that his mother had been dead on the floor, her beautiful blue eyes opened where tears had come down her cheeks and she'd already passed away.

"I'm sorry son." said the priest as he reached for Toby's shoulder. "I wish there was something we could have done, Mrs. Collum was a kind and dearly loved soul....it's hard for Man to process times like this but one must always remember The Good Lord Giveth and The Good Lord Taketh Away."

For the first time in his young life, Toby felt rage swell within the confines of his thin chest as he dropped to his knees and held onto to his dear mother's cold dead hand while strangers tried their best to pry him away.

"MOTHER!" he shouted attempting to awaken her despite the adults assuring him that it was to no avail. She was dead for near on two hours before anyone had been called and there was nothing anyone could do. "MOTHER PLEASE WAKE UP!"

Toby had been beside himself with sorrow as more and more hot tears streamed down his cheeks and he felt only sadness and the loneliness that he had not noticed when her blue eyes lit up at the instant she'd seen his face had come on him like a cold hard wave and threatened to choke him out in the wake of the weight of his sorrow.

"SHUT THE HELL UP BOY!" hissed his drunken father who had arrived after he'd just gotten word following his latest voyage and return. "SHE WASN'T EVEN YOUR DAMN MOTHER!"

At that moment the boy's sorrow turned to full-on rage and he was in the state of mind to ask why his father had not been killed and his kind sweet mother had to suffer. Dollaran pulled the boy out of the house by the scruff of his neck all the while griping bout who was gonna watch him now that Milenda had been gone and it made the lad's blood boil in his veins.

He hated this drunken fool and he had loved his mother and yet here the drunken bastard was dragging him inside their half-empty and pitiful house lined with broken furniture and little to no food.

"Let me go...I want my mother," said Toby trying to get back to his mother, believing in his young heart that all she needed was to see him, and then she'd be okay again and everything would go back to how it was before with her smiling and while cooking and baking pies in the kitchen.

Dollaren turned and suddenly smacked the crying lad across the face. Toby stifled his tears in that instant despite feeling the stinging sensation along his face as it turned red and started to burn in the wake of being hit. The drunken brute hit him again and again in the chest and then one good shot to his belly causing Toby's knees to buckle and him to double over in agony as he hit the floor choking on his saliva and snot as he crumbled to the ground.

"Knock it off already brat, that bitch wasn't even your mother." hissed the drunk. "I only used her as a babysitter so I can go on about my business and she was useful for a time and now she'd up and died and I don't have a woman around to keep you out of my hair."

Toby looked at him confused for a moment knowing all too well that Dollaran would say anything to hurt him because he despised him. Milenda Collum was the only mother Toby had ever known and losing her hurt more than the punch to his gut at the moment as he sobbed in silence while the drunken brute stormed off back outside no doubt looking for another drink or whore to chase.

The confused lad just lay on the floor wishing he could go with his mother and never have to look at the drunken brute ever again, but he knew in his heart that it couldn't be so. She was gone and what was worse, he didn't even know if she had truly been his mother in the first place. She had never told him otherwise and given his father's history, he wasn't inclined to believe anything the bastard said to him.

Slowly the lad began to feel his body go numb amid the cool air that surrounded him and he lost consciousness due to the pain being too much for him both physically and emotionally. The rather unlucky lad had lost his mother and now he was forced to stay with the drunken brute full-time.