Dimension Turners

Chapter One

Donaven stared at the computer screen in front of him, his brow furrowed. The monitor was covered in pictures, only one of which was flashing. The picture was of a young girl, perhaps only 15 or so. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders, curly and streaked with lighter shades of brown. Freckles covered her cheeks and nose, and her doe brown eyes were sweet and innocent.

Another boy leaned over Donaven’s seat, staring at the girl’s flashing picture. He cocked an eyebrow, looking down at Donaven with a condescending look on his face. Donaven looked over at him, pushing on his chest. The boy leaned back, instead resting his weight against the wall behind him.

“She won’t make it through the week,” the boy began, picking dirt out of his fingernails. “She’s too weak, sobhriste.”

“You haven’t even met her yet, Ryne, nor have you trained with her,” Donaven said, his voice even.

“I don’t have to to see that she won’t last,” Ryne sneered, flicking a piece of dirt out from beneath his fingernail.

“You’re older than her,” Donaven argued calmly, standing up from his seat. He moved around to the other side of the desk, shuffling papers around. “You’re nearly 19, Ryne. That’s at least four years older than that girl. So tell me, what’s the difference, Ryne? You two are virtually the same in that concept.” Ryne scoffed.

“The difference is that I’ve been training since I was five. This girl? She’d be lucky if she was able to train with the five year olds, let alone with the trainees her age,” Ryne predicted, looking outside the bay window. “The computer made a mistake. Retry.” Donaven chuckled, stapling a group of papers together.

“I already have,” Donaven said, laughing again. “I come up with the same result each time. She’s the right one.” Ryne scowled, his pitch black eyes glaring at the middle aged man.

“The kid isn’t,” Ryne insisted.

“Childish bickering won’t work, Ryne. As I’ve stated, she’s the right one,” he said, accentuating the fact that she was the one that was chosen. Ryne continued to glare, a small pout on his face. “Stop pouting. You’re starting to look like an actual teenager. It’s unnerving.” Ryne’s pout was replaced with another scowl.

“She’s too old,” Ryne repeated.

“We’ve already covered this,” Donaven said, looking at his second-in-command.

“I mean,” he started, pushing off of the wall and coming to Donaven’s side, “that when they’re younger, it’s easier to get them here willingly.” Donaven paused, inclining his head towards the male. “She’s older, a high school or middle school student. The kid should know better than to just go with strangers.” Donaven contemplated this for a moment before smirking, looking at the younger boy carefully.

“Well then. Tell me, what is one way to make a girl follow someone willingly?” Donaven asked, and Ryne’s expression became confused.

“Put a gun to her head?” Donaven sighed, shaking his head.

“Ryne, Ryne, Ryne. That’s not willingly,” Donaven remarked, and Ryne scowled again. “Try again. How do you make a young, inexperienced girl come with a male willingly?”

“Have her parents ask her?” Ryne offered, and Donaven gave a moan of desperation.

“Ryne, are you that inexperienced in matters of the social world? Boys, Ryne, boys. Girls will just follow their lovers around like pups,” Donaven said, and Ryne’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Donaven. Get to the point.”

“Congratulations, Ryne. You’ve got yourself a girlfriend.”