The Hidden Orphan (The Chronicles of Mistar - Book 2)

Ten · · · Jadon

Piccorock Castle, Chapona, Lotna

THE BLADE FELT ICE COLD IN HIS HANDS. Jadon twisted his father's knife back and forth in his hands. It was balanced perfectly. Taking one more glance at it, he put it in the new sheath that he found in his closet that he put inside his boot. It fit perfectly.

Looking in the mirror, Jadon could see the reflection of his clock telling that it was five in the morning. Perfect. He had three hours until he had to meet the king. But where? During the middle of the night, Jadon had remembered to tell Ben and Ella that his father had said yes and told them to meet outside Boulder Arena at six. He had exactly one hour to meet them. From there, he planned to go to Piccorock Castle to request to see King Cole.

Wearing his green training suit, Jadon put on the sheaths for his swords on his back and clamped shut his mini C.S. screen on to his belt. He felt ready, almost. Looking around his room, Jadon felt like he was missing something. Whatever it was, it must not have been that important if he couldn't remember. Jadon slung his bag of food and supplies over his shoulder. He then slowly exited his room and made his way downstairs, quietly.

The living room was pitch black, though Jadon he could see the sky becoming a little gray through the windows. He dug through his bag and found a small flashlight, one with an elastic cord that could wrap around his head. Jadon put the flashlight on it's lowest setting, hoping its brightness wouldn't wake his parents.

Last night, he hadn't exactly told his parents what time he would be leaving. Jadon didn't like goodbyes and wanted them to sleep through the night, so he didn't tell them anything. He had already made up in his mind that they could figure out that time for themselves. He thought of it as being selfish but he knew that if his dad was put in the same situation, the man would have done the same thing.

Jadon growled at himself. He was turning into his father, something he never wanted to happen. They had bonded somewhat the night before, but not enough for Jadon to trust his father fully.

The knife seemed to get heavier as Jadon thought about his father, feeling guilty, but he didn't let that stop him. Jadon kept pushing through his small house, passing the swords in the living room, the door to his parent's room, and the kitchen where his mother cooked three meals a day. Jadon knew that this mission could mean life or death, but it was to save Tapalla. His Tapalla. He had to see her again. Whatever it took. He had no time to reminisce over his home, so he grabbed a large koata fruit, like the day before, and walked to the front door.

Jadon paused, something like a string on his heart pulled him back, stopping him from leaving his house. He turned, scanning his kitchen one last time. It might not be births until he saw it again. Until he saw his sweet mother again. Until he saw... him. Dandon Mackel. His father. For all Jadon's talk of hating him, he knew that he would miss his father. He had to as if it was a priority. After all, they were blood-related.

"I'll miss you guys," he whispered to his house, trying to at least put a half smile on his face.

When he thought he heard someone stirring, Jadon took off from the doorway into his lawn and down the road. It was empty, except for maybe a few lights and a few squawking birds.

Looking to the sky, Jadon saw that he had been right. Pastel orange was starting to peek out from behind the thick trees of Lotna's forests. The sky was now gray, but the twinkling lights from the stars above still shone. He picked out a line of five, reminding him of the crest sewn to the chest of his training uniform. Looking some more, he found the brightest star. Gazar, he hoped.

Maybe, in the future, the near future, he would go there and see her. His Tapalla.

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