#haruki ōta

[rebelorder-official]

Ehy guys I just dropped the first chapter on AO3 (below is the link, but if you want you can also read it here on Tumblr)

Hope you guys enjoy it!

Prologue

Lullaby

In the beginning, there were trolls, magical beings born from the hearts of special stones and become alive by forces unknown to us, and humans, devoid of any kind of magic.

In time, these supernatural forces that we think of as magical, crept into the hearts of humans and thus wizards were born... But wizards were not well liked by either humans or trolls and only a few of them were accepted in King Arthur's court, two of whom were Merlin and Morgana.

Merlin was very powerful and worked for King Arthur following his every order, but Morgana... No, she was a real rebel. She found trolls to be wonderful creatures, unlike her king, and believed that they had just as much right to live on earth as human beings. Perhaps that is why she sided with Gunmar, a powerful troll born from the heart of a rotten Heartstone from within, certainly not the kindest of trolls or the most tolerant of the sorceress's human nature, which he by habit calls "fleshbag," but still smart enough to recognize great potential in her.

The two had a plan: to create eternal night, so that trolls, vulnerable to sunlight, could live on the surface without fear of being brushed by the sun's rays, but to do this, Morgana needed to create spies who would bring information to both her and Gunmar and who could mix among humans without being conspicuous. And that is what happened: Gunmar ordered the Gumm-Gumms to raid every troll village, capturing the cubs and killing those who opposed his rule. Many baby trolls were captured during those bloody slaughters and many more died as a result of that unrelenting violence. The baby trolls were thrown into cages and kept segregated in the deepest darkness of the caves, away from the light and their families.

The cage cave was large, very large, and cold. The humidity could freeze the stone skin of the little prisoners and scratch their wills better than whatever torture their torturers had in servitude for them. Not seeing the starry sky, being far from their families, and the knowledge that they would never again be able to taste the flavor of freedom often made them beg to be killed there and then, so as not to further prolong the torture that, without the sensor of passing days, seemed endless.

The Gumm-Gumm often enjoyed torturing, beating and abusing them, but no hero in shining armor would come to their rescue....

The "loveless," as they were called by their tormentors, would all die of starvation, hunger and fear after endless and unspeakable tortures, and only death, their friend and salvation, would come to grant them sweet eternal rest.

This went on for years. Every now and then a cub would be taken out of its cage never to return, and it only withered those little hearts that had now lost all hope as far as an escape or a possible return to their villages was concerned.

That was the case for everyone, including the Izit cub, a race of trolls accustomed to living in the thickest forests under the starry sky. A tenacious specie, but too weak to be able to escape the clutches of Gunmar and his army.

The little guy had lost so much weight that his arms were as thin as bone, and the bright spots on his skin that once characterized his coat had faded over time, blending with the dark blue that covered most of his body. His horns, still just small stone lumps on his head, trembled from the frost along with his tusks on that dark, cold night.

He was hungry, but there was no food for him. There was hardly any.

Looking around he could make out fellow prisoners in the cages hanging from the ceiling and those on the ground like his own. All were huddled together, some asleep, some crying, and still others seemed not even to be breathing, perhaps dead for days.

One of the few moments of respite for the Loveless.

The Izit cub tried to warm his paws by blowing warm air on them, but his breath was reduced to a gasp. So, trembling, he clutched his knees to his chest and hid his face against the cold stone skin.

He remained like this for a long time, until a song rang through the air.

The notes were sweet, the voice singing to her melodious.

Little Izit strained his long ears and listened intently; it was not the first time he had heard that voice, yet, each time it caused him a strange sense of curiosity and surprise.

With the witch's song also came light. A faint light of course, but still a light.

Many trolls raised their heads in search of that spark in the dark, others fled into the darkness, aware of what was about to happen: there was only one reason why the light chose to come and visit the captives, and it was nothing good.

Only one among the hundred or so awake cubs remained still: the Izit.

The woman, continuing to chant, moved forward looking ahead. She did not seem particularly interested in the contents of the cages or in assessing how Gunmar's prisoners were doing, rather she seemed serene. She kept murmuring the notes of a song in a language the little trolls had a hard time chewing: human.

The witch advanced until she passed the cage of little Izit, who meanwhile dared not look up or move even a muscle. He would have liked to see the light, but to what end? It would only remind him how much he missed the freedom and the starry sky that he had so loved to look at when things were not yet so hopeless.

The footsteps suddenly ceased and with them the divine singing.

There was a clang of metal and the cage door opened.

Not even at that moment did little Izit look up. It was only when a hand was extended toward him and the smell of living flesh permeated his nostrils that he let his four bright eyes wander until they met Morgana's green ones.

She was beautiful. The red hair, the thin lips, the gentle smile... she was so bright.

"Hey little one..." She whispered, cautiously. She tried to caress his face, but Izit's pet retracted his head slightly, startled by Jade's hand.

"I will not hurt you..." The woman continued in a melodious voice.

How could a voice sound so sweet?

"How long have you been here?"

The puppy did not answer, but his eyes spoke for him: He did not remember; he had forgotten what it was like to be brought to that place and thrown into a cage, he had forgotten what his name was and what his parents looked like.

His mind was a blank slate, perfect for what the witch was looking for.

Morgana's gaze softened incredibly, giving way on her face to an even warmer smile.

"Come here..."

The woman's arms picked up the troll's slender little body and lifted him effortlessly. He offered no resistance; after all, if his fate was really to disappear as the other "Loveless" before him had done, he might as well go along with it. Even if he had wanted to, he would not have had the strength to fight anyway.

As the witch stepped away from the cages, walking between two massive trolls with a creepy iron mask on their faces, she stroked Izit's head, running a hand through the blue hair and feeling the still-developing horns.

"Now that you have me, you will no longer be alone." She whispered into his animalistic ears. The troll cub snuggled up to her and let her song lull him as his eyelids grew heavier. Although he was afraid, Morgana's presence helped calm him and for a moment he wondered if indeed that witch would be able to make him feel loved again.

And so it was: Morgana gave that puppy all the love that only a mother can give.

She fed him, gave him a name, a warm bed, educated and trained him...

And then... She slaughtered him.

She broke his bones, changed his nature and made him unrecognizable in the eyes of the other Izit.

She transformed him into something that nature would never have combined: an impure troll, capable of walking among men in the sunlight.

She transformed him.

She turned him into a changeling.

[rebelorder-official]

I am infinitely grateful for all the support you have shown me with the prologue! I hope you also enjoy the first chapter<3

Capter 1

Good Morning Arcadia Oaks

Haruki jerked awake in his bed. His heart was beating fast, sweat was sticking his shirt to his chest, and his breath was reduced to a gasp just like in the dream.

Something was sounding in the room, but it was definitely not the dream witch's chant--no, this something was more repetitive and annoying, like an alarm. It took the boy a few seconds to realize where he was: he was in his bed in his room, no longer in the Dark Lands, and what was sounding was not the fire alarm, but his alarm clock, set as it was every morning at 6:30 sharp.

Haruki then reached out his hand to turn off the alarm clock, and when his fingers touched the off button, a voice took the place of the sound, wishing as it did every morning good morning to all the citizens of the small town where he lived.

"Good morning Arcadia Oaks! It's 6:30 a.m. and time to get up. Today's weather forecast calls for sun in the morning and bad weather in the evening, let's hope the afternoon stays sunny or at least no rain!"

Haruki huffed dejectedly and sat at the edge of the bed massaging his temples. He stretched his legs and arms and dressed, grabbing the first things his closet presented in front of him: a white NASA T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans his aunt had bought him at that Saturday's flea market.

He picked up from the floor the shoulder bag with his school books inside and watched as the clutter of his room gripped the desk covered with papers and junk. The computer on it was still on from the night before and the screen glowed a deep green, almost as if to call attention to itself.

Haruki moved only a moment closer, looking at the encrypted email in the center of the screen in a language unknown to human but very clear to him: trollish.

Just a few words: "Janus awaits socks."

Words that to a human, if he had ever managed to decipher them, would not have meant much, in fact they would probably have made him smile a little, but not Haruki.

He knew that email, which arrived at about 3 o'clock that very morning, could only mean one thing: Another hellish evening working for the Order of Janus.

I mean, come on! It was only Monday and already his fellow changelings had problems to solve. There was never a moment's peace.

But... He knew he had to answer the call. Deep down he knew that without his help, many changelings would feel at least lost in front of those new technologies like computers and telephones. Centuries of writing goose-feathered letters on handmade papyri only to find oneself catapulted into constant progress must have been exhausting to metabolize, so Haruki did not hold it against him.

Luckily for him, he had only been on earth for 18 years, so learning modern culture had not been all that difficult. He had found himself immersed in it since childhood, and when his aunt had given him his first computer at age 12 he had taken an immediate interest in technology and programming. Good thing in hindsight; thanks to his love of computers he had secured a secure place within the Order and now enjoyed a position of respect, but sometimes all that work weighed on him.

He turned off the computer and went downstairs. His aunt was still asleep, a luxury that those of us who are adults and go to work later can afford, while his younger sister, Yuko, would have woken up an hour later anyway, because the middle school where she went was definitely closer to the Ōta family home than Arcadia Oaks High School.

Haruki ate breakfast, composed her sister's packed lunch, and left the house at a brisk pace. He grabbed the blue bicycle Auntie Maemi had given him for his birthday and leapt into the saddle.

He pedaled down the driveway and through the woods, avoided the canal and crossed the large bridge that led to the innermost part of the small town of Arcadia Oaks.

The sky was a brilliant blue and the trees laden with green leaves reminded him that yes, summer was finally near. There wasn't long to go, just enough time to prepare for and take his final exams and then he would enjoy the summer before college; although to fully enjoy it he would actually have to pass at least his final Spanish tests so he wouldn't risk being deferred.

He arrived in front of the school just in time to hear the last bell. He hurried to get off his bike and tie it to the bike rack that the school provided for students. He entered the institution, handling his bag in search of his phone to put it on silent before some message, probably sent by the Order of Janus, could disturb him during Spanish class. It was precisely this distraction of his that caused him to collide with the one person he really hoped not to meet that morning.

"Mr. Ōta." Groaned the professor, backing away a few steps after being bumped.

"M-Mr. Strickler!" Haruki stammered, trying to compose himself in the most dignified manner possible.

Strickler's jade eyes met the younger boy's brown ones.

"I'm glad to see you're okay..." The history teacher added, aggravating his voice slightly. "I thought you were sick." He raised an eyebrow and Haruki felt a jolt of chills run down his spine.

And there it was, he would have bet. He knew that someone like Strickler would never let something like that out of his sight-but let me explain. You know how I told you that someone like Haruki certainly couldn't escape a call from the Order of Janus? There, I lied.

Haruki was perfectly capable of ignoring an order like that.

Just the night before, despite a fairly important e-mail request for help, Haruki had fallen asleep from an overdose of afternoon study in a desperate attempt to pass the Spanish assignment he would have that morning, and so at the Order a wi-fi malfunction during a conference with the base of operations in Tokyo had turned into sheer chaos and terror, later escalating into trollish profanity and an unpleasant brawl.

"I... fell asleep to be honest." Muttered Hideki, lowering his head as his cheeks tinged red.

Mr. Strickler's eyebrows rose comically, and a very unsurprised smile plastered on his face. "Don't tell me..." He teased him with that thick English accent of hers that used to drive the group of moms at parent-teacher class interviews so crazy.

"I'm sorry, I really am. It's just... I have this Spanish assignment today and..." Attempted the boy, but his teacher beat him to it:

"School is important Mr. Ōta, I understand that. After all, I'm a teacher myself. Don't worry, I know that this morning Mr. Uhl will give you a hard time with the new test, you did well to study."

Haruki almost managed to breathe a sigh of relief before Strickler was able to finish the sentence.

"However... Janus awaits his socks with great anxiety. There have been some um... problems."

Haruki sensed as he looked around that the professor's words were dosed so that no student passing by could understand them. He looked up and their eyes met; Strickler barely smiled, but Haruki noticed a purple bruise protruding behind the collar of the teacher's blue turtleneck.

A scuffle.

Bular.

His blood chilled again.

"Tonight I will be there professor, I promise. There is nothing more important to me than ... deliveries."

The professor's smile became more sincere and he waved a hand in the air disengagedly. "Very well then. Good assignment Mr. Ōta, I hope Mr. Uhl didn't really go as hard as he described to me this morning."

Strickler walked away at an elegant pace, and watching him leave Haruki could not help but pause to think about how capable the man was of blending in with the crowd of humans while still remaining integral to his identity. In short, he was not a totally anonymous man, he knew a lot of people through his role as a history teacher, and yet Haruki was certain that no one, ever in the history of Arcadia Oaks, could have suspected that he was a changeling.

It was Strickler himself in those years who had taught him that although it was important to blend in with the crowd better than anyone else, a changeling could aspire to great things.

There was only one constraint to adhere to: never tie oneself to anyone. The changelings were not meant to have friends, let alone a family. It was bad enough that they put up with their own kind and did not kill each other....

The right medium was to make humans trust themselves without really letting them into their lives or let them know the truth about their true nature, which was much more difficult than or could not seem to be...

When Mr. Strickler's footsteps were only a distant memory, the silence of the hallway managed to interrupt the flow of his thoughts.

Haruki took a quick glance at the clock on the wall and lost a beat in surprise; it was definitely late and the reason the hallway was now deserted was that all the students were already in their classes.

The boy ran almost to the point of crashing into the front door of the classroom and when he opened it all his classmates were already sitting in their seats.

Homework on their desks and pens in their hands.

Mr. Uhl, an Austrian man in his early twenties, was leaning against the desk with his arms folded. When his gaze crossed Haruki's, he smiled wickedly, waving a sheet full of questions on the front and back.

The damn paper in class.

The boy ran and picked it up and settled down at his desk, the one in the third row near the wall, to begin filling out the test he had studied so hard for.

As he read the questions, panic targeted his mind, making the evening spent studying completely useless.

"Shit." He muttered, as Mr. Uhl's clear eyes smiled wickedly at him, as if the man already knew that the boy's fate was sealed with a big red F on his report card.