P.O.A. Ch: 1

[azumi_chan88]

The Prince of Avalon

Summary: All he'd ever known was pain and the constant feeling that he would always know nothing but suffering for the simple crime of being born. When the chance at a 'normal' life arrived he felt it was too good to be true and would surely be ripped away from him at any moment. How long would this normalcy last before the curse he was certain his birth had placed upon him would tear it all away? What was it that had brought about his suffering and why was it that he seemed important and yet despised by those from his place of birth?

Rating: R/MA
Status: W.I.P.
Genre: Sci Fi, Fantasy, Drama

Chapter One

Colony L.O.F.

The reaches the human race have acquired are far beyond that of the end of their own galaxy. Through the last nine hundred years the human race has come across many different galaxies and species. Through many wars that took place and many dealings of peace the human race has integrated with the other species. The integration was not an easy one and presently there are still many who would rather not have those from other galaxies around them.

December 19, 2993

Deep within the colony that orbited the earth at the end of the thirtieth century lay a lone boy, one unaware of anything a normal boy his age would be concerned with. Forever plagued with not knowing his true identity, nor the circumstances that led to the punishment he currently endured and that seemed to never end. He had no idea of the importance of his existence anymore than he knew the joys of a loving family. His fate was decided as consequences to something beyond his control.

He lay there in his small bed dreading the day ahead of him. The dark of his room permeating the most recent memories of his life. With all the pain he had already endured in his young life it was a wonder that he could find anything worth living for, worth  fighting to survive each and every day in this hell that had taken place throughout most of his life. Depression and doubt were just as common as the lacerations that seemed carved into his back. The number of times the whip came across each scar or gave birth to new ones turned his back, sides, and even his arms to nothing but torn, bleeding meat. At the moment his wounds were at the very back of his mind, learning to adapt to the constant pain had taken a while but he had finally managed to do so.

Amidst all he suffered and managed to somehow survive he only seemed to grow that much stronger both physically and mentally. He often times threw himself into his studies if only to escape the nightmarish life he had led since as long as he could truly recall. The one responsible for the majority of his suffering if not all of it was his godfather, the principal of all the orphans at the school in which he was confined. The degrading words, the harsh physical punishment, along with the lack of emotional fulfillment made him lonelier than most.

Regardless of the only two friends and few people on staff in the orphanage that he felt he could rely on and turn to nothing seemed to give him that piece he needed to feel complete. Even at his young age he kept his pride and it often brought about his negation to confide in anyone of his suffering and turmoil. He was not alone in his feelings of inadequacy and loneliness but that did not make it hurt any less. He knew dwelling on his own suffering was selfish of him, everyone here had their own nightmares to face and locked away darkness in their pasts. But he could also reason with himself that he seemed to be the only one his godfather was so harsh with and he was certain it was because it was his godfather.

Ocean deep, blue eyes looked at the ceiling thinking of a life with a mom and dad and his little sister Fiona. He knew it was a foolish dream to think he would ever escape, but it was one of few thoughts that kept him going and so he indulged in his fantasy of a family life when he could. As he turned to curl over on his side and rest his head on his folded left arm a glint from the completely glass door leading to the center of the colony told of brown hair. This same brown hair reached the middle of his back and was kept braided at all times.

He wanted to cut off the braid because his godfather took complete advantage of his long hair and used it to hold him in place when he was 'teaching him a lesson' but when he had naively suggested it where the man could hear him he was forbidden to do so. The bastard was always making certain he used and always had whatever advantages he could get when it came to dealing with his godson. But other than that, he liked his long hair, he'd always had long hair and was sure he would feel really weird without it. Other than all the negative things about being on the colony and his godfather being a jerk, he did look forward to some things.

He had friends that he'd known for a few years, they were both girls and even though most boys his age didn't like girls and thought they were gross, he thought differently. Girls weren't so bad if you gave them the chance and both of the girls he knew were tougher than most of the boys he knew. The classes were okay, if you didn't mind the few really strict teachers hitting your hands with a ruler when you got a question wrong or spoke out of turn. Learning was easy for him, and he was placed in advanced classes because of that which was how he met both of the girls.

One of them was the same age as him, just as smart, and she was really pretty. The other girl was lazy with school work and so she was placed a year behind what year she should be in and then placed in advanced classes so she would get more work as punishment for her lack of enthusiasm that caused her to fall back. He thought that was stupid, if she wasn't doing the work in regular classes, then why would she do the work when they gave her more work to do?

Even though he was only eight years old and still considered a little boy to the majority he wasn't weak by any means at all. He had lean muscles and was mostly skinny, but it wasn't his build that others noticed and thought he was strong because of. The layers of scars on his naturally tan skin and the determination and life in his eyes was what made others see that he was stronger than he looked.

His godfather, James, was an ex-military officer from Avalon, a planet far away from where he was and in another galaxy to top it off. He was apparently from Avalon, given the pointed ears he had and that was the reason he was told he couldn't go and live with a family on Earth or live with his sister. He didn't believe that, he could hide his ears with his long hair and if he was from Avalon then wasn't his sister from there too? If she could live on Earth with a foster mom then he should be able to do the same.

He didn't voice his arguments out loud, he'd learned the first time what that got him and he was not idiotic enough to be the cause of receiving even more punishment. He had argued about the rules against boys making friends with girls. They were allowed to have classes with them and eat lunch at the same time as they were. But, they couldn't talk to them or walk down the hall with them, or sit at the same table as they did. It didn't make any logical sense to him. He was still friends with both of the girls he'd met in class three years ago because it didn't make any sense and he saw no reason why girls and boys couldn't be friends.

He suffered a lot of punishment when he was caught, but having friends made it that much easier for him to keep fighting to survive this place. When he was in too much pain and his mind was muddled by the agony he would focus on the two that were more than a dream or fantasy. He'd seen his little sister once, that's why he never believed his godfather when he said she didn't exist and that he didn't have a family at all.

When he first arrived James was kind to him and allowed him to see his little sister Fiona after she was born. But as soon as she left a few months later that was when his true colors showed. James had started by making him go to the center of the colony where he would receive five whippings everyday and then he would beat the crap out of him until he spit up blood if he did anything wrong. But when he met his best friends Gabie and Angela things only got worse. As time passed the whippings became fifteen a day, and on top of that his godfather seemed capable of finding anything at all to punish him for.

Comparing the torture sessions to the beatings and whippings was like comparing chewing on glass and chewing on rusty nails. Both sucked, but he would take the second choice any day. He turned over on his back when the digital clock on the small nightstand next to his bed went off and stared unseeingly at the ceiling once more. He had five minutes before the lights in all the dorms would turn on which left him just enough time to get dressed and head out the door to the Principals office where he had to check in everyday. This was another added element once his sister was adopted. With a long sigh he sat up and stretched his arms over his head before throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. He walked the few paces around his bed to the left side of the room where his closet was and contemplated the uniform hanging there.

He took a uniform shirt that he had ironed a few hours ago from his closet door and put it on. He buttoned it over his white muscle shirt and before slipping into his black slacks and tucking the shirt in. He then put his belt on and checked the cracked mirror on his door to make sure everything was in order and presentable before slipping his uniform dress shoes. Then he opened his bedroom door and stepped into the hallway silently. Once outside in the hallway you could make out the white of the button up uniform shirt. Only those in the senior high school years were required to wear the black jacket and blue and red striped ties.

The hallways were all the same, plain white walls, plain white ceiling, plain white tile floors. It was easy to get lost, but he usually got punished for that as well so he'd memorized when to go this way or that way depending on the direction from the place he left and what floor he was on to get where he needed to be. It only took him a year after he was first punished for getting lost to accomplish the task of figuring out where everything was.

Once he walked past twenty four doors he turned down a hallway to his right and walked to the end of it where an elevator was. He rode the elevator the next floor up and stepped out of it and then walked ten feet down the hallway to a door on his left. The adrenaline and fear coursing through him made his hands shake and he had to take a few calming breaths before he could reach forward and open the door. The closer he was to the man that tormented his every moment the more the knot in his stomach twisted with a fear he never could seem to shake off.

The Principals' office reminded him of a mayor's office in a zombie game he'd once convinced a junior high student let him play during lunch. The following day ended up with both of them being punished and taken to solitary confinement on the top floor for a week. Things like that were the common reason he was unable to keep any friends for very long. However, this also made him treasure the two friends that had stuck by him despite the consequences doing so cost them. Most of the time he was the only one punished but he was alright with that. What he did not like, and had stated before which earned him another session in solitary, was the fact that at times both girls were punished for befriending him.

He stepped inside the principal's office and put on his best fake smile as he greeted the secretary sitting at her desk currently on the phone, which seemed to be the only thing she ever truly did was talk on the phone. She smiled at him in return, though distracted with her phone call before saying offhandedly, "Good morning Tye, he's expecting you."

Tye nodded, steeled himself for whatever awaited him today, and walked to the far left side of the room where a wooden door with a glass window said, "Principal James Jones." He knocked on the door with three, short, sharp knocks and waited for the usual reply to his knock. When the deep, loud voice that always chilled his blood and made his heart race with anxiety and fear came from the room behind the door with, "Come in Tyereke," he had to steel himself once again. He opened the door, walked inside, closed the door behind him, walked over to the desk until he was five feet from it, then bowed from his head to his waist and said, "Good morning Sir James." This was the expected routine he went through every single morning when he walked into this office. Each and every time it was a struggle to appear calm and not let any of the anxiety he felt show through.

The man behind the desk had a bulky military build, tan skin, jet black hair slicked back, brown eyes, and a malicious smile on his face as he looked at his godson. He had a imposing, bullying personality and was intimidating to everyone just because of the arrogance present in how he carried himself. Those brown eyes were always a gateway to how very cruel, merciless, and cold hearted this man sitting so calmly behind the desk truly was. He had made the mistake to catch those eyes only once and recalled how utterly small and helpless he felt that time with every encounter to remind himself never to do so again.

The principal leaned forward in his seat behind the immaculate, polished, cherry wood desk and said with a promise of suffering in his tone, "Good morning you say, after what I have planned for you, you will think differently my boy."

Somehow he managed to keep the foreboding he felt from his expression, though it still twisted his insides painfully and his blood turn to ice at the endless possibilities of what the man could do to him. He remained completely still and through sheer force of will kept his hands from clenching or a sound from escaping from his often treacherous mouth.

James stood up in a very smooth motion before walking around the desk, stopping only when he towered over Tye did he say in that familiar condescending tone of voice that demanded immediate action at the same time, "Stand up straight." The boy immediately did so. Those callous brown eyes looked upon him heavily before lips curled up in a smile no more warm than the dead of a winters' night.

When the older man moved his hand suddenly to his pocket the boy before him could not stop himself from responding by tensing up and flinching. The mans' smile grew that much more sadistic, "What are you flinching for, have I given you a reason to flinch?"

The boys voice came out softer than he meant it to, threaded with trepidation as it was; "No sir."

James chuckled in a wickedly pleased way, "I can't hear you, speak up boy."

Tye swallowed the lump in his throat and cleared his throat before forcing himself to repeat those two short words loudly and clearly, "No sir."

He answer was met with a nod of approval, "Better." Before the boy could do more than blink he was swiftly backhanded, as the blow struck him he noticed that something was in the hand that hit him. Having been knocked off his feet he had to sit up before he could look towards his punisher to see that the handle of a whip was held in his hand. He should have seen this coming, regardless his face still stung horribly, his head was pounding, his heart racing, and he could taste blood on his tongue.

Hard eyes bore down on him before saying sharply, "Get up, unless you would rather stay where I think you belong. Lying to me, pulling such a childish prank. Do you plan on continuing to force my hand?"

What he wanted to say was that he never did force his godfathers' hand, the man simply took pleasure in causing him pain. This punishment he was about to receive he did nothing to deserve, the other boys in the cafeteria were responsible but had pinned the blame on him. Despite any of that he answered, "No sir."

"And yet you are persistently doing so. You should understand by now that I will not tolerate anyone skirting the consequences of their actions. Still you lied to the members of my staff and then straight to my face about setting off firecrackers in the cafeteria on Friday. You refuse to admit to this crime or tell me where you acquired the illegal items or tell me where the lighter or possibly matches you used to set them off with are located. Will you continue to stand here before me and tell me it was not you?"

The boy knew better than to argue when this man was so very set on placing the blame on him. His eyes darted to the whip held tightly in the right hand of the man before him and he also noticed something in the pants leg on the right side. With a deep breath that made his lie seem all the more convincing he answered with his gaze focusing suddenly to the ground as if in shame, "No sir. It was me, I-I got the matches from an older student and flushed them."

He jumped when his chin was suddenly seized in an unforgiving grip, "What is the name and grade of this older student?"

He tensed, he knew the names of a few high school students but he wasn't going to make them pay for what a bunch of junior high kids did. He would never give a name and his godfather knew this, he was forcing him to make his punishment that much worse. "I don't know their name or their grade sir, they simply gave them to me."

He was released forcibly enough that he stumbled back a step and had to lock his knees to keep from falling backwards. His steadily racing heart was making his head and face throb even more. He was backhanded once more and this time his world went black before he realized he was back on the floor once more. He quickly got to his feet ignoring the blood that ran down his cheek, he couldn't recall seeing the man slip that ring on. He held his breath as his godfather paced across the floor to his right, a few moments passed before he stopped and he slowly let out his breath.

When he was addressed again malice dripped from every word, and he saw a fisted right hand twitch, "I know you are still lying to me, who gave you the matches? It is impossible for you to leave the school grounds so I had already assumed a high school student would be the only one to give you such an item."

"I truly don't remember hearing a name or seeing what grade they were-"

He was cut off as the whip came down on him lighting his back on fire, the ends kissed the skin of his left forearm and he grit his teeth to keep the cry from escaping. Before he could do more than inhale sharply he was grabbed by the throat and lifted off the ground. In panic his eyes locked onto furious brown eyes and his world spun as he was flung across the room to slam into the wall across the room from the desk. He landed in a crumpled heap having hit his head against the wall with enough force to make him see stars for a moment. He had taken in three agonized breaths before his braid was grabbed and he was hoisted once more in the air. He could feel a bit of warmth on the back of his head and worried about the blood getting on his godfathers' fist even as he felt nearly blinded by what injuries he had.

James' facial emotion sure enough changed from frustration to anger then to disgust, "First you desecrate my school, then you lie, then you don't answer me, now you're bleeding on me?"  The next thing he felt were the sharp edges of a filing cabinet in his back before he hit the floor again. He had pushed himself to his hands and knees by the time his godfather had walked over to his desk and returned to tower over him James with the whip held ready in one hand and a pocket knife already open in the other. In true terror he moved without much thought, crawling towards the door frantically.

A sharp, frightened cry that sounded foreign to Tye's eyes tore through the room when his ankle was grabbed and he wildly reached out, trying to grab anything he possibly could to pull away. His small hands caught a hold of something heavy and he held onto it fiercely even as he was violently pulled away from the door that led to his momentary freedom.

Instinctively he lashed out, using all his strength to flip over in the grip and threw what was in his hand noticing too late that it was a hardback, heavy book and what he had done. It landed with a soundly smack hitting the man in the face. Knowing the penalty would be severe he found the strength to get to his feet and dash for the door. But he wasn't fast enough, a sharp, piercing pain shot through the lower left side of his back just before he could reach out for the door handle making him immediately crumple to the ground with a shocked and misery laden cry.

He jerked lifelessly when he felt the blade jerked out of his back and could not find the will to move despite his frantic demands. He didn't see the blade wiped clean and hardly felt that that was done on his own pants' leg. He could only stare through a haze of agony as his godfather knelt down and cried out when his hair was grabbed once again. The action sent an unrelenting wave of anguished fire through his back as his head was forced back, his back arching in reply.

He saw black at the edges of his vision as torrent after torrent of pain coursed through him, he was lifted off the ground and the sudden elevation pulled at the steadily bleeding wound that was soaking his shirt and pants through thoroughly making an wretched cry pass his lips as his eyes watered. He could somehow make out that he was being carried by his hair towards the bookshelf just before he was thrown into it, thankfully hitting it with his front but unfortunately landing on his back. In only a few breathless moments he heard the creak of the wooden shelf before he was crushed beneath its' weight.

His head was slammed into the ground, the stab wound ripped open even more in his back, and he could swear a few of his ribs were at least fractured under the weight even as his consciousness faded and dimmed for a few moments. He mentally cursed his high level of pain tolerance and the body's inability to remain unconscious under a good amount of torture as the blackness and brief numbness faded. He would have lifted his arms to try and claw his way out from under his immobile prison but he was stopped from doing that by his godfather once more.

A vice grip grabbed his wrist and pulled him out from under the shelf then he was pulled to his feet by his wrist. Once again his feet left the ground and that grip tightened even more. His breath left him in wretched gasps as he was struck three times in the gut and released only to be met with a kick to his face that sent him rolling across the ground and another painful kick to his chest, surely breaking ribs under the force of the blow.

He didn't know how much more he could take, surely anyone else would have fully lost consciousness by now. Every tortured breath was wet and desperately fighting to take in enough air. He chanted in his mind over and over again that he had to somehow survive this or he would never see his friends or his sister again as he was grabbed by the throat and flung across the room once more.

This time he hit something that was at first solid then shattered loudly beneath his weight as his hip struck sharply with the corner of a metal piece before glass rained down on him littering his skin with countless cuts and scrapes. Once more he was grabbed and he no longer had the strength to breath never mind his body’s' natural reaction to flinch away or fight.

This time he was grabbed by the back of the neck and walked for what felt like and eternity, hearing an electrical sliding door open. His mind was working sluggishly and by the time steps had stopped echoing on stairs he knew he was at the center of the school, where the official whipping was done. He hit the floor and somehow managed to land on his hands and knees on the cold metal floor.

He didn't need to look up to know that there were three different displays of whips and in the middle of the large platform was a circular piece with adjustable metal cuffs. The cuffs were for the wrists and ankles to be placed in. His tormentor said in a calm and emotionless voice to the man Tye knew to be Mike, "Twenty-five lashes today for this vermin."

As always Mike's deep voice answered immediately, "Yes sir," and picked up Tye under his shoulders and knees. The man held him until James walked up the stairs and into his office closing the metal door behind him. He never blamed the man, even as he secured him in those cuffs or as he delivered the slashes with shaky hands that made it so the lashes hardly hurt at all.

It wasn't until the man stood before him, those soft green eyes glazed with tears and over run with sorrow and an apology that he knew how close he was to crying or even that he himself had cried. The cuffs were released and he fell forward limply only to be held and shifted into Mike's comforting and steady arms. He bit his bottom lips hard as the man ran up the stairs and how that action jostled all of his wounds.

He knew from the strong smell of cleaning products and antiseptics that he was in the infirmary. He didn't need to open his eyes to know which person waited there, or to know she would have a very concerned and brokenhearted expression on her face. She was a young woman no older than twenty or so, she had soft brown hair that she kept tied in a bun, wore a white jacket over a blue shirt and whit slacks. Her eyes were green and her skin fair.

He was transferred from Mike's bulky arms to her slender and much softer arms, "Dear lord, why must that man be so very cruel to a child? Such a sorry excuse for life," she carried on in her litany of insults and that made a small and weak smile form on his young face as she gently laid him down on a stiff bed.

Mikes' voice was full of anguished heartache, "I know Tetsuka, I know, I have seen this happen to him since he was four years old. You would think that after four years of this kind of treatment that bastard would leave the child alone."

Tetsuka knew this as well, she had been here the day he arrived and delivered Fiona, his younger sister. His mother had died giving birth distraught because she thought her son to be dead. Tetsuka also knew that James was more than Tye's godfather, he was Tye's uncle. James was also the father of Fiona where as Tye was the son of the King of Avalon.

Tetsuka was from Avalon but since she was a mage she concealed her true identity. Dark blue eyes, hazed at first before they focused looked up at her, the suffering in those eyes broke her heart as much as each and every scar and wound she saw marring his skin. But those bloodied lips smiled fondly at her and she could little else other than return the smile before she bent down and with a deep breath set to work.

Gentle hands carefully turned him over on his side and grabbed a pair of scissors from the table next to the bed. She carefully cut his shirt and took it off him with a few moans despair escaped the young boy now under her care. Having helped this young doctor countless times, mostly with this very child struggling to breath and fighting back tears he had already shed Mike grabbed a bag next to a desk in the far right corner.

He then walked over to Tetsuka and set the bag down next to her. She smiled and took out her surgical gloves, thread, needle, anti septic, then gauges and bandages. She looked at Mike and said, "Walk around the bed and make sure he doesn't move, talk to him and try to keep him conscious."

Mike did as she asked kneeling down so that he was closer to small boys eye level. Those eyes focused on him as the man spoke with compassion and melancholy is his eyes, "Tye, you are going to be okay, but we need you to stay awake okay?"

Tye kept his eyes on Mike and through a very hoarse and broken voice said, "Okay . . . Mike can you tell Gabie and Angela that I'm okay . . . I don't want them to worry about me."

Mike smiled weakly and nodded, "Of course I will, I'll be sure they know you're alright."

Those eyes darkened and shudder ran through the small form when a coldness that was followed by a burning sensation ran through his back. A warm hand grabbed his own as kind eyes looked upon him and the young boy felt something akin to belonging to a family under that gaze. "At least you get to miss class today." He smiled a bit at that until he felt the needle go into the skin where the wound was making him grit his teeth and more tears to fall from his eyes, the hand holding his squeezed his in a comforting gesture.

The woman tried to be as gentle as she could as she stitched the wound closed before she set to work cleaning the cuts from the glass shards and then the cut on his face. Soon enough she had everything bandaged and by that time he was losing his battle to stay conscious. When he was carefully lifted he heard shuffling he recognized to be the sound of fabric, Tetsuka was most likely changing the sheets.

He was set back on the bed and then careful, gentle hands moved to remove his bloodied clothes, that she had already had to cut away from his skin and were replaced with a thin hospital gown. He shivered because of the cold but was quickly draped with a bundle of blankets before the presence of both of the caring adults left his side. He lost his battle and felt himself drift into an exhausted sleep.

Sympathetic eyes looked upon the child curled up on the thin mattress, inside one fumed with unbridled fury at the amount of suffering this boy endured while the other felt helpless to take away his pain. The woman turned to who she considered a friend for his compassion, "Some day I hope he can escape this place, he belongs with his sister not here paying for something he couldn't control."

"I couldn't agree more Tetsuka, can you contact his two friends, Tye asked for them to be told that he was alright."

"That boy is far from alright but I will contact them, most likely they will risk being caught around him to see for themselves how he is."

Mike nodded, "At least he has friends that care for him so much, most of the children here decide that it is best to pin the blame on this boy, as though he needs to suffer anymore than he already does. Three years, for three years I have had to bring that whip down upon this child-"

A firm grip to his shoulder stopped him and he looked up into kind eyes full of understanding as she said, "And you must continue to do so. This child does not blame you for what you must do. As much as he wishes with all his heart to have a family to belong to, to see his younger sister, he understands that you do this to keep your family safe. It is unfortunate that you must harm one child to save two and your wife, but he nor I blame you for this. Considering the amount of agony he must bear daily I believe that to mean a great deal."

"How can you not blame me when you must tend the children in which the whip comes down upon everyday?"

"Because they do not blame you either, especially the older ones. You pull your hand as often as you can and make certain each of them are brought to me. Others in your place would not care so much. You should get back to your duties before that rat bastard comes back demanding you to do so."

Mike nodded, "Yes, thank you Tetsuka. I leave him to you."

"And I shall take good care of him," she answered with a sad smile. She watched as the man turned and walked out of the infirmary and closed the door behind him. Those stairs that led to the platform should have railing to it before someone fell to their death crossing them. Slowly she turned her gaze to her patient, usually she would make him stay in her care until that wound healed but she would not be allowed to. She would need to call down the healer to tend to his wounds for doing so would be the only way to ensure that this boy would make it through another day.

She walked back over to her desk reluctantly and with watchful eyes still on the boy asleep in her domain she picked up the phone and first called the secretary, an absentminded, drone of a woman to tell her to do her job and inform Tye's teachers that he would not be present for any of today's lessons. Once she was sure what she asked would be done she dialed the number for the head of the girls' house where she asked that a message be given to Crystallia and Comicya, informing them that the ocean was choppy but safe today. The woman that answered the phone was a bit kinder and informed her that the message would be sent. Both of them would face severe consequences for enabling the three to have any communication but they both cared for their charges.

The last call that she made was to the healer who usually spent a great deal of time on the floor where the high school students were. She answered with a sweet voice after three rings and asked what was wrong.

"Our ocean needs a gentle touch of magic to calm itself of ships' damage."

"It never does seem to end, I will be there within the hour. I must make sure this student before me will survive my absence."

"Could you not send for your companion?"

"One of us must keep our eyes on my cub, there are far too many despicable members of the staff here."

"Yes," the rage she felt towards a certain member of the staff came through making her voice take on a growlish quality.

"There are of course worse where you are located. My cub and his guardian should be here with an hour or two, will the waves do much damage in that time?"

"No, I believe only the shore will be rumbled in that time," she didn't like that they couldn't openly discuss Tye over the phone, using the ocean as a reference today. She and much of the staff had derived ways to speak of him without being completely obvious. Of course his sordid godfather would be able to decipher any code they used if he overheard them, but it was mostly so that no one else could figure it out.

"I will be there as soon as I am able-hey-give that back you brat-"

There was suddenly a young mans' voice on the phone, "Is it bad, you know like really choppy or just small waves, the ocean?"

She recognized this voice, it was one of the very few high school kids that cared about the young boy in her care. "It was choppy when I looked but now the waves are just small. What are you doing taking the phone from your doctor like that?"

"I'm not an idiot, I recognize the ocean when I see it. You know what caused that ship to run through?"

"A handful of firecrackers and a group of junior high students."

"Well shit-ow hey-guess they need to be taught a lesson the old fashion way-ow-I'm already injured here you crazy woman-ow-okay, okay, here take the phone back."

Tetsuka smiled despite her sour mood as the healer came back on the line, "Sorry about that. This brat is so very nosy. How are you holding up?"

"Shaken but sadly I am rather used to this sort of thing."

"Yes, that is indeed unfortunate to put it lightly. I will let you go so I can patch up this waste of skin in my infirmary," there was an indignant shout and then soft laughter from the healer. "Take care of yourself and your charge."

"I will thank you Serenity."

"Of course," they hung up and Tetsuka sighed heavily where she sat and her eyes drifted back to the boy in her care. If only there was a way to have him released from this place, some way to deliver him from under the thumb of his godfather and uncle. She allowed a smile to form on her face as she thought of the handful of people that cared for this child despite knowing his lineage, well most except for the two young girls that were his dearest friends.

The high school boy, he was sixteen, twice Tye's age, and yet he cared but could not make it known to hardly anyone because of what that may mean for him, Tye, and everyone that allowed any form of communication to happen between them. Though Tye had never spoken to the older boy directly, Terry assured her that they have met before.

When she had looked in the records she saw that the two were indeed nearly always on the same planet or colony together. It took her a moment before she realized that Terry was not the first name of this sixteen year old, he had gone by another name but the A.U.C. had forced him to change his name. Terry was the boy Tye had spoken of remembering before he arrived on the colony four years ago. She let out a tired sigh and looked upon her desk, she had forms to fill out for new supplies and patient reports to do. With one last glance at her patient she picked up her pen and set to work.

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