The Kingdom of Noitcif

Chapter One - The Boy

  The boy was an average human being. One of those kids a person hardly pays any mind; whether they're walking down the street, humming under their breath, or even opening the door. They never stood out in the everyday hustle and bustle of life.

  Espen was one of those boys. Coming from a middle class family with a healthily busy schedule and a breezy way of living, many people would describe him as 'unidimensional' until they got to know him better. Because even the most seemingly average people have quite a few layers to their character.

  In truth, his real name wasn't Espen; it was Estevan. But over the years, as one person after another shortened and hacked at his three-syllable name until one schoolmate referred to him as 'E', he decided to go by 'Espen'.

  Fourteen-years-old, completely inconspicuous unless he readily addressed himself, shy, and reserved; wandering the halls with his nose pointed at his feet and his shoulders hunched so high it looked as if he was freezing to death, he appeared – in terms of his demeanor - like every other kid in Meadow Brook. A bystander might think that students who go to school in an abandoned mansion in the middle of mountainous, stream-filled,ranch country would be a bit more cheerful, but, no. The majority didn't differ much from the cold pigeons that huddled in the dank rafters of the schoolhouse. But one of the exceptions was Rosalind Winter.

  The name 'Rosalind' means 'gentle horse', but she was anything but serene. However, the surname 'Winter' means exactly what one might think, and most people who have been around horses know the gentle animals get more active and exuberant in the cold. Whatever the case, when Espen first met her, he was under the delusion that Rosalind was a sweet, kind girl who wouldn't hurt a fly. But as the first quarter drew to a close, he realized his initial perception was faulty, at best.

  One word to describe her would be 'loud'. Another would be 'extroverted', and a third, 'reckless'. In a nutshell, she was everything Espen was not. When Espen was sitting by himself at a picnic bench, Rosalind would be chattering away at a table full of girls about nonsensical subjects. While Espen would mutter 'sorry' if someone bumped into him, Rosalind would shove that person in return. And as Espen was cloistered in his room, reading his books about trees and horses and mountains, he would look down the gravelly dirt lane and see her, waving about in her yard, talking so loud on her cell phone he was sure she would roust the whole neighborhood. Whenever he thought he would have a moment's peace, he remembered she was his new neighbor, and his hopes would sink back down into oblivion.

  Although he considered himself to be perfectly natural, Espen was the target for many cruel comments and a surplus of weird looks. Bearing long, fiery hair that was kept back in a low ponytail and luminescent hazel eyes, he was picked on even more than the other 'normal' kids. Therefore, he tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible and kept many of his odd interests under wraps.

  But no matter how average or how extraordinary, anyone can become a magnet for adventure. Mystery. Danger. Espen was about to receive his serving of that strange mixture in the very near future. And little did he know that even the strongest of kings would deem it worthy to falter from its onslaught.