Tearha: The Number 139

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Hero of the Mist

The 'End of the World Orphanage', so nicknamed because kids who are brought there often think that was where everything ends. The people at the orphanage though, made sure to prove everyone wrong. They came out in the alley behind the three storey house that was in slight disrepair. Copper plated shingles hung lopsided at angles on the roof and steam pipes running the walls were oxidised brown. A window on the third floor had its grill left hanging. A teddy bear dangled from a clothes hangar on the bar.

"Are you sure you don't recognize me?" The Watcher asked, staring at the man that have introduced himself as Milton Jones.

The man who ran the orphanage had red hair messier than a bed in the morning. It was as if he had decided to stick his head down the plumbings of a toilet and flushed. His eyes were a faint sky teal and held an airy glassiness to them that shone brightly in the light. With an evening stubble on his chin and slight bags under his eyes, Milton showed the weary signs of having to take care of as many children as he did. But his smile was sincere, almost as if his heart was light on his conviction. He wore a patched white shirt and string-tied brown cotton pants. Simple, rural garb.

"You're The Watcher, right?" Milton replied with a laugh. He held out an opened letter. "It was in the instructions Nadier sent us."

"That's not what I–"

"We can talk more inside," Nadier approached the two men. The dark elf scanned the neighbouring buildings packed too tightly for his comfort to escape. "It's not as safe out here."

The group marched into the orphanage behind Milton. In a file, they entered through the single wooden back door, half repaired with patchwork planks of wood over holes.

"Did you get burgled?" Adelaide asked, pointing to the damage.

Milton laughed, "No, no. It's the kids. They like playing inside the house."

They walked through the orphanage. The sound of scampering feet knocked through the ceiling with flecks of dust falling. Eager little eyes poked out from doors and around the corners of the stairs. Some of the kids waved to Tinarya as she passed, and she puffed her chest out proudly, leading the guests of honour through the orphanage.

They turned into the living room. Lacquered wooden floor gave of smirked sheen from the flickering incandescent lamp that hung from the ceiling. The couches were set in a circle, the middle of which filled was with scattered toys of dolls and bronze figurines. A woman stood from a lone sofa at the sight of the group. In denim shorts, a clean dirt stained white shirt, Joan Jones's onyx hair sifted with the light as she approached Nadier.

"Wanderer!" she greeted the dark elf happily.

She hugged him, and his body stiffened straight, hands at his side at the uncomfortable display of affection.

Nadier coughed out, "Um... it's nice um... it's nice to see you too, Joan." Milton, Watcher, Adelaide, and even Tinarya, all held back scoffs of laughter. As Joan let away from the embrace, Nadier asked, "I would like to stay, but it's important that we get to The Tower as soon as possible."

"We understand," Joan said, gesturing them to the seats. "But the steam tunnels are depressurizing right now. We can't open them even if we wanted to."

Milton took a seat on a two seater couch and Joan followed. The Watcher patted Nadier on the back, taking the single seater to the left of the couple. Adelaide relaxed by leaning against the wall and Tinarya ran off to parts unknown. With a final sigh, the dark elf relented and took the last chair.

"So," Milton began. "Honestly, we don't want to know too much about what's happening, only that it is happening. But we owe Nadier here quite a bit, and if he says it's important enough to risk his life for, we'll help however we can."