Nathaniel could not remember the last time he ever felt this cold. When he received the news, he refused to cry.

All of the teachers that stood in the Headmistress's office openly let show how much they pitied young Nathaniel. Bright...Kind...Talented...Earnest...and now Alone. Some of them even shed a few tears for his sake after he ran out of the room, his head spinning.

No, dead? It can't be.... He wrote to them not even a week before the Headmistress herself came and asked Nathaniel to please kindly walk with her to her office. No. Nononono.....No! NO! They're not dead!
He tore through the grounds, looking with unseeing eyes towards the direction of his home.........

With scratches on his hands and face and tears at his uniform, he finally stopped. His skin was crawling and he felt lightheaded. I'm hyperventilating...he thought dazingly. Nathaniel felt his hands shaking. Bile shot up in his throat and he vomited violently upon the pristine grass of the West Garden....

"Nathaniel, rise and shine! Your mother made a big breakfast for your first day!"
Nathaniel, aged 10, turned over stubbornly under his covers grumbling, "One more tick."

His father's chiding laughter echoed through the room. "Come on silly, you know that your mother almost never cooks herself unless there's a special occasion. You said that five ticks ago," he studied the bed-haired lump in Nathaniel's bed. "If you don't hurry, I'll have to eat your breakfast for you. You'll have to go to Brunnhold on an empty stomach."

This was true. Katelyn Robinson was usually the first to rise and the first to leave. Breakfast was almost always prepared by the servants. Still though, Nathaniel wouldn't admit defeat that easily. The boy smiled underneath the covers, tightening his hand around the toy sword he had hidden beside him.
"Okay.....Engaurd!" shouted Nathaniel, bursting from the blankets and brandishing his sword.

"Touche!" exclaimed Joseph Robinson, pulling out from behind him an identical toy sword from behind his person. They both played this game almost every other day. He blocked the wild-haired boys thrust.
"You almost got me that time!"

"Not if I get you this time!" the boy challenged. He spun around his taller father and swung. "Hi-yah!"

Joseph didn't quite make it that time, catching the blow on his leg.
"Oof!" he shouted comically. He dropped his sword and fell on the floor play-acting grievous pain.

The boy fell for it.
"Are you okay, daddy?" he gasped and crouched next to his father.

"I'll be fine....when I get even!" The man sprang up and grabbed Nathaniel up into his arms, and tickled him on the floor.

"N-no! Ahahahahaha! Stop! P-please! Hehahaha! You're c-cheating! N-no fair! Hahahaha!" Nathaniel tried to roll away from his father's hands.

"All's fair in war, my boy!" Joseph exclaimed in an imperiously serious voice. He couldn't, however, suppress his grin. He let the boy go and walked out out the room, leaving Nathaniel prostate on the floor gasping for air.
"Your mother and I will be waiting. Go get ready for your big day."

Nathaniel sat up, grinning like a fool. He could hardly contain his excitement for finally going to Brunnhold!

"Okay, dad!" he called cheerfully after his father....


Nathaniel had now finished coughing up the insides of his stomach. Breathing heavily, he struggled to stand up. Going over to a nearby pool, he stumbled and almost fell into the calm surface of the water. He squat down and dipped his hands into the water and washed off the slime around his mouth and the sweat off of his forehead. He glared at his reflection.

He was suddenly very disgusted at himself. How dare he lose control so easily! How like a child, letting his emotion get the better of him. I should know better. He curled his lip at his mirror image. His reflection sneered back. Nathaniel struck the water, destroying his sneering self, and stood up.

He was now much more...tranquil. Nathaniel looked up at the sky. Everything seemed to be uglier somehow. The trees were crooked, the grass was dull, the birds were annoying, and the red atmosphere of Brunnhold was jaggedly revolting.

He needed to leave. He was on his own now, and the funeral wouldn't arrange itself. Plus the whole assortment of legal processes of the reading of the wills and setting his house's affairs in order. So much to do...

He started the long walk toward his room in long strides. His face was set in a tense, neutral expression. No sorrow or anger or fear showed outwardly. He ignored all who paused to greet him on his trek back trough Brunnhold campus. I will definitely be back, he decided. It's not like I'm leaving for good. Just for a little while. I need out of here. I'm sure the Headmistress would understand.

His dorm's prefect was waiting for him just outside his door with a grave, almost kindly expression on her face.

"Excuse me, Nathaniel?"

He stopped.
"Yes, ma'am?"

"The Headmistress wanted me to notify you that you are allowed a break to grieve and to set your affairs in order," her brow furrowed slightly at Nathaniel's apparent casual air. "A carriage has been arranged and will leave from the Stacks to your home this evening. Everything has already been packed for you. Do you have anyone in particular you wish to talk to before you depart?"

Nathaniel paused, briefly reconsidering what he had already decided on his walk back from the Gardens. He started to speak, but then stopped. I don't need pity from anyone. Especially not them.
He shook his head. The prefect's furrow deepened.

"Very well. Your bags have been transported to the carriage ahead of us, now if you will kindly follow me..." The woman began to walk down the road towards the Stacks.

Nathaniel fell into step behind her, feeling hollow. He could not remember the last time he ever felt this cold.