Chapter 1

Ugh....

Bright sun...

....It was time for him to open those eyes of his, but he wasn't about to. No way. Too bright.

He sat up and stretched, groaning a bit with some of the tiny aches from his last day of work.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed and scritch-scratched at his head of brown hair with golden mixed hairs, the golden hair catching the sun and dimming the room in a slightest fraction of light, dulling the edges of his shadow and brightening the white walls around him.

He rubbed his eyes, this making them want to open. Blur....

Focusing, he worked his dry mouth, and ran his hands through his mess of hair. He went to a broken piece of sheet metal, it's polished surface revealing his somewhat thin but handsome features... Eyebrows a dash darker than his equally blonde/brown hair, eyes reflecting the sun, converting the brightness of it to a soft blue as he looked his hair over.

It was untamed, as was every morning.

It was brush time.

By the WILL of the SACRED THREE, he HATED brush time....

There was no wonder as to why, here.

Once finished running the bristles roughly through his head of mats, he wiped the tearing from the pain of practically ripping hair out from his eyes.

His hair parted, the parting point a bit to the left of the center of his hairline.

Testing his 15 year old, rich voice, he just said his name, "Leon. Hm." He raised one well-shaped eyebrow, "...Not sick anymore? My throat isn't sore..."

That's right.

Many kids were getting sick this time of year.

Some said it was the wisps of shadows that settled into people as they slept...

It was said to be an omen.

Leon doubted it, really. He got dressed in his old garb, a cotton white, sleeveless shirt and green pants normal townsfolk wouldn't be caught dead in.

Pfft. Like he cared what the Villagers thought...

They hated him.

Thought him a monster.

Leon had unnaturally extreme strength. He could lift rocks s big as he without breaking a sweat.

He'd done that once, just to save a child trouble, having had his ankle crushed. People had gasped and immediately labeled him, "Monster." or, "Freak."

Did he look that hideous? How immature.

Either way, it was an off type of fear, he knew, that made them immediately jump to such a conclusion. Today, he'd make another milk round, acting like the crate of milk was heavy as he carried it about.

He had learned by now: The normaller he acted, the more people tolerated him.

But everyone was in a great mood today.

Today was the day.

The day the king launched a worldwide birthday party for his daughter.

She must've been a brat.

Spoiled rotten.

He trotted past a few little houses, all covered by thatched roofing, and rather colorful, but not clashing. usually they were an assortment of even greens, blues and reds. though the reds were closer to dirt brown, really.

The trees were vibrant, lush green, and the light breeze carried their leaves in pattern less sway, making misshaped orbs and squares of light dance across happy faces, banners being set up, Practicing performers, the starts of a bonfire, and of course, the houses.

This town, the nameless one in the middle of the Kokiri Woods, was always the host to breathtaking scenery that would widen even impaired eyes with it's wonder.

Leon was glad he grew up here.

Though rather busy, he heard someone call for him.

He turned to see.

Rosalin.

She was three years over him, and acted more like a big sister than a real sister would've. Maybe.

"Leon, how're you today?" She said once she caught her breath from catching up.

Rowan, her cousin figure, and the Mayor's son, was a ways off, but approaching. Leon knew Rowan thought him a monster.

Rosalin didn't.

The only one.

"Hey, I'm okay. Just making my rounds, like everyday." He said. Simple and to the point. he was never social. Probably because of the absence of acceptance.

"Oh, I should've known. You do that everyday. I was thinking... would you like to go with me and Rowan into the forest today?" Rosalin asked politely, and somewhat hopefully at once. She honestly wanted to be around the oddball.

"Uhm..." Leon almost spoke, but Rowan cut him off, now caught up, "Y-You... Monster...." He managed while panting to catch breath, "I'm not... letting you go anywhere with Rosalin alone..." He then added his favorite nickname for poor Leon, "....You... dirty little shit-eater..."

Leon knew better than to retort. Like he ever did. He looked at Rowan for a bit, then looked to Rosalin.

Rosalin gave Rowan an angry look, "Stop calling him that, and I want him to come."

"But Rosalin-"

"But nothing." she cut him off coldly, "don't like it,. go home." She looked to Leon, and smiled kindly, "We can go with you until you finish your round, then we can all go together."

Leon nodded a bit meekly.

Before long, they'd find themselves in the woods. Leon was feeling subconscious about now, for Rowan was giving him the looks that really, really made him want to shrink. Disappearing would work too, but imagining shrinking seemed easier.

After an awkward silence, it was Rosalin who spoke first, shattering the rather thick silence with strong words, "So, what should we do, then?"

"What?" Rowan looked indignant, "You brought us out here!"

"This is part of the fun, Rowan." She said, letting him act as he wanted, "Working together to find a game we all like playing."

Rowan looked grim, and pointed to Leon. Leon sighed, knowing it was coming, "I bet there's nothing HE isn't good at, so why even try? He's too....too.... He's a brainless muscle-head who is-is-just a MONSTER!"

"How can he be a monster, Rowan? You haven't even gotten to understanding him yet!"

"What's to understand?!"

Rosalin opened her mouth to speak, but Leon was running away, "L-Leon!" They began to follow him.

Or rather, SHE did.

Rowan followed her, trying to tell her to keep away from the superhuman beast. Rosalin skid to a stop as they reached the village.

Rowan stopped too, right behind her.

They both were silent.

Terrible.

Terrible was the cold that iced their blood.

Horrible was the shiver that rattled it's way up their spines...

Excruciating was the concept of what lie before them.

Their town.

Their trees.

Their homes.

Their memories.

All blazing, flames white hot, almost burning their faces from many yards back.

Leon stood about ten feet ahead of them.... watching something emerge from the flames...

A man stepped from the flames, tongue-like flames feebly attempting to drag black armor, dark greenish brown skin and red dreadlocks into the depths of the inferno as he easily broke their hold.

The hungry flames retreated once he was far enough away, sparks streaming out from behind him, billowing his cape of ancient design and brown background out behind him, the sparks did not light any bit of him on fire, from his clothy cape to his big, hooked nose....

This man... his slitted eyes... his evil smirk of big, thick, sharp teeth both turned upon Leon, the 15 year old frozen in place... ...

A powerful hand gripped his right one, "That strength." He rasped in a deep, rumbling, but somehow rich voice, "I want it."

Leon wriggled in his hold, but a hand went to his throat and lifted him like this up to three feet into the air, "Do. Not. Attempt..." He smiled wide, "Resistance. It is mine, now...."

Leon felt it.

His right hand.... was burning.

......silence.

His ears... the only sound.

They rung.

The man's laughter was mute.

A pain in his side.

He was lying on the ground after being thrown.

When did....

The last thing he saw was Rosalin running for him as the man in black armor disappeared.