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Loch, The Werewolf's beginning |
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This is the beginning of the story of a boy, all by himself in this world, yet surrounded by friends and comrades alike. His story begins in an orphanage in London; St. Xavier’s Orphanage to be exact. The child, wrapped in a bundle of blankets and towels, placed in a wooden basket on the stoop of the institute ready to be collected, lay there still as hell, even in the wake of the blizzard that was assaulting the, once vibrant, city. The door of the orphanage opened and a bright light exploded into the midnight air from the tip of a stick, but this wasn’t a torch, no, not even a flashlight. In fact it was a simple piece of wood, curious, no?
I am assuming that you expect us to suddenly jump forward by ten years, do you not? Ah, well I’m afraid that won’t be happening just yet. First, you must learn of the reason of abandonment, and the curiousness of the stick that produced light with little effort. Well, first things first. This boy is magical, in every sense of the word. That strange yet soothing light flows from within his body and his very mind considers things that no other normal human child would ever think possible, certainly they would dream of such things. Every child wishes to gain some kind of power for whatever reason they believe worthy, from protecting one’s family, to protecting the entire world from danger. Ah, but I’m getting off topic... This child, this boy in particular, is one of the rare few left in this society who possess the blood. You see, throughout the generations the blood with magical talents has dispersed further and further amongst non-magical beings. For now, let’s refer to these people as Muggles, shall we? Anyway, as the blood spreads further, it becomes less and less pure, much like when a rare mineral is lost to the ground. It gets buried deeper and deeper into the fertile land, eventually mixing with other compounds and inevitably becoming completely un-pure. But, this power within him isn’t the reason for his parents abandoning him to the mercy of the cold, far from it in fact. The reason why this boy was left on the doorstep of a strange place with an even stranger shadow above him is rather simple really. He shouldn’t have even been born. He was an accident.
I’m sure that by now you have guessed that that stick, the one that produced light at the flick of the wrist, is, in actuality, a wizard’s wand. It’s a most peculiar piece of craftsmanship, designed purely for the practical use of sending magic from the wizard’s hands with better aim and power behind it. Ah, but I wonder why a worker at an orphanage happened to have such a device. Perhaps it was fate that this wizarding boy would end up under the guidance of another wizard? Or perhaps it was merely coincidence. Either way, this woman came to be the boys tutor until he was six years old and a very odd couple arrived at the doors of the orphanage. A man in a tall black hat, by the name of Hepitas Pond and a woman, in a long blue tailcoat, by the name of Ophelia Gale. They claimed to know the boys family to be dead and were given the duty of becoming his god-parents at birth, despite his abandonment to the hands of St. Xavier’s. Although reluctant to hand him over, the boy himself baffled at the idea of him having godparents, his tutor finally gave in after four days of meetings and talking’s. She agreed that what they said seemed to match up to what she knew. And before the boy had known it he was driven away, hand pressed against the cold glass of the back window of the small black vehicle, driven by Mr. Pond. Staring back at the only woman he had ever had in his life to consider as a mother; the woman who had given him his name.
Elrick.
 Koolio Kitsune · Tue Jul 20, 2010 @ 02:14am · 0 Comments |
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