his breath. In the excitement of finding his new treasure, he had forgotten all about his punishment from the others. Panic started to slide up his spine. A book was something innocuous to get destroyed. Looking around, he realized where the safest place for the book was. Without hesitation, he turned and ran towards the music room. The hidden panel in his favorite room would be the best hiding place for it, and once he knew his book was safe, he could deal with the others.
Skidding into the room, he immediately backtracked into the hall. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or start screaming. Darrel had been in the music room, the wall panel open and his most prized possession had lain in pieces on the floor. Anger flowed through him, his eyes clouding over, lighting to a mauve color. His control was slipping again, that much he could feel. He strode back into the music room, the book still in his hand.
Darrel looked up at him, eyes cold. Behind the coldness though, there was regret swirling deep within the boy. “I’m sorry. We all knew it was here and you knew this was coming.”
“Then you’ll understand why I can’t let you get away with this, Darrel.” Something feral was rising in his throat. He approached the boy and growled.
Darrel never even saw it coming.
Mathieu slammed the book into Darrel’s stomach, causing him to double over. With a swift uppercut, Darrel fell to the floor, unconscious. Mathieu leaned down and picked up a piece of his once beautiful cello. It was part of the artfully carved body, a piece shaped like a tiger lily. Taking a deep breath, he opened the book and laid it within the depths of it, closing the pages around it protectively.
Before anyone could show up to see what he had done, Mathieu turned and left the room, winding through the orphanage to the back staircase, going all the way up. Without preamble, he shoved the door open to the attic and went in. Going to the only trunk in the dusty attic, he opened it and dragged out his shoulder bag. Tucked within it was a few hundred Khrons, a map of Unith, a fake ID and a change of clothing.
He placed the book into the bag, nestling it between his clothes to keep it safe. He was getting out of this place. For fifteen years, he had been suffering at the hands of the others for being different. Now, they had destroyed the only thing he’d ever formed a real attachment to in his life: his cello. Anything else he could have handled. But not this.
Slamming the trunk closed, he left the attic and headed back down the stairs. There was nothing left for him here. The only place he stopped was in his room to pull on some shoes before leaving it and returning to his voyage down the stairs. He wasn’t going to regret this decision. It had been coming for a long time. The front door was only a few feet away and he hadn’t run into anyone. That was fine. He hadn’t wanted to see the others before he left anyways.
His hand was on the door handle when he paused. Going into the sitting room, Mathieu went to the desk and pulled open the top drawer. He plunged his hand in, felt around, and pulled out a wad of Khrons. Shoving them into his bag, he returned to the front door and threw it open.
“Good bye.” He didn’t even bother to close the door behind him as he took off from the porch at a run.
~*~
Mathieu knew that no one would come looking for him. They didn’t care. But that was what being an orphan got you, a lack of someone giving a care if you disappeared and nowhere to really call home.
Sitting down in frustration, Mathieu huffed and folded his legs under himself. It was a long way from the orphanage to the capital, nearly a thousand miles. It would have been a full day journey by carriage at least, if he didn’t stop to rest. Unfortunately, the orphanage didn’t have a carriage, and that meant that he had to travel on foot. He thought his legs were going to fall off.
Ateri. That was where he’d decided he’d head. It was the only place that was big enough that he could disappear and no one would ever find him; not that anyone was looking. Maybe that was all he’d