Valin (Book 3 of the White Lily Trilogy)- first draft

Chapter 20- Bracing for the worst.

I'm sorry aobut the lack of updates, this have been hectic for me, decorating, moving, doll making, and a host of other things. But here is chapter 20 for you

Dakelo lay flat on his back on the rooftop, staring at the array of stars dancing above his head as comprehend what it would be like to fly amongst that comforting blanket of darkness. He had one of his knives in his hand, and was busy scraping out between his teeth with the tip of the blade.

He enjoyed the quiet nights, or at least the nights where he didn't have to fight. His father always scolded him for coming back bruised and cut up, but he could not help it. He tried to stay out of trouble, he really did, but it always seemed to follow him in this forsaken place.

He sat up and stared at the wall enclosing them all in the city. Tall, foreboding, and suffocating. He hated seeing them and although he knew it was supposed to keep them safe from the vicious monsters that live outside; to him it felt like a prison designed to keep the filth in and let it rot.

One day I will see what it's really like outside those walls. The childish though was met by a scowl and a kick of his heel against a rickety roof tile. Like that will ever happen, face it the only way out of this forsaken place is in a box.

His wandering attention was distracted upon hearing a clamour in the street below. His hand slipped out a second knife from around his waist. It had to mean trouble, it always did. He crawled over to the edge of the roof, moving slow to avoid any loud creaks that could alert his position. He gripped the edge and pulled himself the rest of the way and looked over the edge. Someone was shuffling below, in amongst the barrels stacked at the back of the tannery.

Whoever it was, they were young, or very short, but they were covered in a cloak and skulking around, and that was enough to mean it was someone was up to trouble.

He didn't give the stranger another moment before jumping down. He landed on the barrels which threatened to tip back on him, but he quickly regained his balance with a quick cartwheel of his arms. He then jumped down to the floor and charged for the stranger, his knife at the ready.

"Strange place to be sneaking about here," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"D...Dakleo, it's me." Isildilia's voice squeaked from behind the hood, which caused Dakelo to go skidding to a halt, digging in a small track in the mud behind him.

"Hazuth, why are you lurking around like that, especially with me around?" he asked her, as he stuffed the knife back into its place. She shuffled away from him a little. It was as if she was afraid he'd do something...or find out. He instantaneously knew something was wrong. "What happened?"

She grabbed her hood and her hands shook as she peeled it back of her face.

Her face was covered in scratches and bruises, especially on her right cheek. "The usual," she said firmly. Her confidence came off poorly, since her eyes were still a deep shade of blue. He knew what she was referring to as "the usual". Every day she was tormented and bullied by others, just because of those eyes. He's tried many things to help get her accepted, but it was tough. It was hard for her to walk down the street without people parting around her like she had the plague. He winced at the insults he heard directed at her, some he wouldn't even dare repeat in his own company.

Dakelo sighed heavily for a moment. "Well come on, let's get you sorted at least." He took her hand and started to lead her home.

"Sorry." He heard her apologise. He rolled his eyes, even though she wouldn't be able to see them through the back of his head. She got beaten up and all she can do is say sorry? It wasn't even her fault.