Rise or Burn

Chapter Eight

Eon Lone climbed out of his carriage. The lights in Oak Point shone brightly, illuminating the night. The streets were packed, the people loud and lively. It was always like this. Crowded. Alive. He used to love this about the city. He was seven when his parents had brought him to Oak Point for the first time. The city had seemed bigger then. The buildings infinitely tall and the streets impossibly crowded. He liked all the loud sounds, the unfamiliar scents and the bright colours. Oak Point was a kaleidoscope of wonder. He'd never been anywhere like this. He never wanted to be anywhere else. But that was years ago. Now he wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else.

Eon made his way down the busy street to a shabby looking building at the edge of the sixth district. There were twelve districts in Oak Point. The first six were known as the upper districts and the remaining six as the lower districts. The upper districts where mostly commercial buildings and high end apartment buildings. In the lower districts were old buildings. Some broken down and forgotten, and others barely holding together but filled to the brim with people with nowhere else to go.

"Eon Lone," called a lanky man with wild black hair that stuck out like porcupine quills. He had a grim look to him. A heavy brow, a square jaw and a mean looking snarl. He was leaning against the door to the building Eon was making his way to.

Eon looked up. "Hove Erro," he said his lip twisting into a frown.

"I haven't seen you in a bit," Hove said. "I was starting to get the impression you thought you too good for us."

Eon scoffed. "I am too good for you."

"You wound me." Hove put his hand to his chest in feigned pain.

Eon rolled his eyes then took a step towards the door. "Where's Kodie?"

"Gone," Hove said.

Eon's frown deepened. "What do you mean 'gone'?"

"Exactly what I said." Hove stuck his hands into his jacket pockets. "He got fed up of waiting. Said he was going to find his own way and left."

In a burst of anger, Eon lunged forward and grabbed a fist full of Hove's shirt. "And you let him leave?" he snarled.

Hove didn't bat a lash. He reached for Eon wrist and squeezed painfully until Eon let go. "Don't you dare touch me," he warned.

Eon wasn't calming down. "Kodie," he said slowly. "Which way?"

"If you were anyone else kid, I'd have Penni teach you some manners," Hove smiled. There was nothing pleasant about the smile. He had a mean looking smile. The smile of man who took pleasure it hurting others. He'd hurt Eon without a second thought. Eon knew that yet he'd still dared to challenge him. It was for Kodie. He'd do anything for him.

At elven years old when both of Eon's parents died. He was sent to an orphanage in Sovorin a week after the funeral. Sovorin was a backwater town at the northern tip of Dorian's isle. It was Rocky Mountains, bearen fields and abandoned coal mines. The orphanage was a decrepit shadowy building in a rock valley. His first week there he'd scarcely left his room. He spent his days looking out the window, watching the other children play in the courtyard and at night he's lay in bed listening to the rats scratching and scurrying in the walls. He'd hadn't been in a mood to be around people. He was grieving. He was homesick. He craved the company of familiar faces but there were no familiar faces in Sovorin.

He was alone for most of his first weeks there. All the kids in the orphanage left him on his own. All the kids except for Kodie. From the day they met—Eon was crying in the bathroom and Kodie was trying to flush down the headmistress' monocle—they were rarely ever apart. They got along swimmingly. Kodie had a habit of doing things he wasn't supposed to. Eon had never felt the need to stop him. They got in an awful lot of trouble together. But they had always liked trouble.