The Rocheforte General Orphanage was not the worst place to live. In fact, it was rather nice. It was the circumstances that made it so difficult for Henry to assimilate into his new life there.
Before going to the orphanage, Ms. Aparo took him to a local inn, where they spent the night. Henry silently wept all throughout it.
Upon his arrival, he finally parted ways with Ms. Aparo and was transferred legally into the care of the orphanage. At this point, she didn't even try to communicate with him, giving him a curt farewell before leaving the sulking boy with a bag of clothes provided by the Clerk's department.
She knew he couldn't help but sulk, and yet she still couldn't bring herself to bridge a connection with the boy in his state.
His belongings in his parents' house had yet to be sorted through and recovered, and so until that could be done, aside from undergarments, Henry was left with three basic sets of overalls, a few grey tunics, and a pair of boots.
Henry found himself in a large room lined with many beds, leaving a path in the middle to access each one. The design was painstakingly simple, but with hundreds of kids, this was the best they could do.
He was led to a bed in the back of the room, where his stuff was dropped off by a staff member.
"Okay, boy... Henry. You've got two weeks to settle before you're due to return to work. Take that time to get over it."
Henry couldn't help but chuckle at the cruelty as the woman walked away. His parents had died, for goodness sake. Yet he had been shown little personal compassion or empathy. Perhaps it was a necessary cruelty, though. For he knew he couldn't remain in this state forever.
The world moved on, and what choice did Henry have but to move on with it?
It was just so hard—his entire life gone overnight. He tried his hardest to suppress tears, but they began to fall again. Quiet sobs began to leak from his throat.
"Hey, new boy." A voice from behind him sounded. Henry turned his head, his hands wiping at his eyes. A boy, perhaps two or three years younger than him, was lying on his back, his head upside-down and hanging over the bed. "What's your name?"
"Henry." He sniffled back in response.
"My name's Alexander. I'm eight years old." Alexander swung his body upright and turned around to fully face Henry. He tilted his head, studying him for a second.
"I've seen you before, I think. Are you the talentless boy who always sweeps the markets?"
Henry only turned away in response. He stood up from his bed and started to leave the room.
"Hey, hey! Wait! I didn't mean to be rude. Y'know, I'm not all that talented myself." Alexander quickly shouted after him. He jumped off his own bed and jogged after him, ending up walking beside him. "If you want, I can show you around."
Henry contemplated for a moment, eyes still damp.
"Fine." He muttered.
"Great! Let's go."
Alexander was a thin boy, but not bony. In fact, he even had some muscle on him, unlike Henry, who was short and scrawny. And unlike Henry's brown hair and blue eyes, both Alexander's hair and eyes were golden.
Henry couldn't help but study them, interested in how such a color was possible.
"Curious, huh?" Alexander noticed Henry's staring. "My mom says I get them from my old ancestors. Apparently, a lot of my relatives are powerful. But they all live in the inner fortress, so I've never met them."
Henry was a bit bewildered. How could a boy from a powerful family end up here? But more so...
"Your mom is alive?" Henry blurted out.
Alexander burst out laughing, "Yeah, she is. She left me here after I exploded the entire family estate! I can only return once I learn to control my powers at school."
"You said you were talentless."
"Well... my talent isn't so bad... I'm just not great at using it!" He laughed again.
Henry shook his head as the two of them kept walking.
"You don't go to school, huh?" Alexander asked. The boy clearly didn't have much of a filter.
"Nope, that's why I sweep the markets." Henry gritted his teeth. Alexander was starting to get on his nerves. He couldn't help but feel some comfort talking with another kid for once, though.
"So... you wanna tell me about your past?" Alexander asked, looking up at Henry curiously.
"My parents died yesterday," Henry replied, trying not to tear up again.
...
"Oh." For the first time since Henry had met him, Alexander was not very enthusiastic. "Sorry."
The two of them walked in silence for a while, making their way into a grand hall. The hall was much longer than it was wide. Near the entrance, rows of tables were lined up. Near the back, however, was a myriad of items. Some were kitchen tools and appliances, all archaic in comparison to the old humans. Some were also furniture, like, for example, a very long couch that stretched perhaps five meters wide.
"This is where we eat, but also take lessons," Alexander said after some time of silence.
"Lessons? But I thought you went to school?" Henry questioned.
"Yeah, we go to school to learn the three... uh... I forget what it's called." Alexander scratched his head. "At school, we learn about our talents and about the world. They train us there."
"But here," he continued, "we learn about how to take care of ourselves. They teach us how to cook, clean, and... oh boy, Ms. Miriam is gonna kill me, I forgot the word again."
"Your memory is pretty bad," Henry said.
"I guess so!" Alexander laughed.
They continued walking and eventually found themselves in a courtyard. It was quite large and shaped like a diamond. There was a stone path circling all around the inside of the diamond, and inside the circular path was a great garden.
"Here is where we hang out during free time," Alexander said.
Henry stared up at the sky shining through tall arches that crossed over the courtyard.
"But be careful, because if you get in trouble, they make you run twenty laps around the loop." He gestured at the circular path, which was around half the size of a standard track from the old times.
The two boys walked into the garden and found a quaint table with a bench on either side. Alexander sat down, his legs swinging under the table, too short to reach the grass. Henry made his way over, too, and took a seat on the other side.
"Hey, I don't wanna be pushy, but could you tell me if you have a talent?" Alexander leaned over the table and looked around before whispering. "All the other kids that have heard of you say you don't, but I've never heard of anyone without a talent." His golden eyes refused to make eye contact with Henry, embarrased of the question.
"Of course I have a talent," Henry humphed. "It's impossible for someone not to have one."
Alexander's eyes widened, "So you actually do? What is it?"
Henry sighed, "I'm supposed to be able to lift things, like telekenesis or whatever they call it. But for some reason, I can never do it."
"You can't use your talent? How is that possible?!" Alexander blurted out, forgetting all attempts he had made to be secretive about their conversation.
"No! I can use it..." Henry mumbled, clearly unconfident about his statement. "It just barely does anything."
"I wanna see. Try to lift that leaf there." Alexander pointed across the garden. Henry pondered for a moment, not wanting to embarrass himself. But, for some reason, he trusted Alexander not to make fun of him.
He raised his hand and reached deep into his mind, where he found the voice that emanated the call of [ Lift ]. For him, the world froze for a moment, as time seemed to slow. Almost all the energy in Henry's body began to focus on the leaf. A few moments passed in this gathering and focusing state. He inhaled deeply.
Then, he thrusted his arm out, pushing and channeling all the stored energy toward the leaf, feeling the space it occupied. He felt his body go weak, all his strength gone.
And yet the leaf barely moved. If one looked closely, perhaps a twitch could be noticed.
Alexander looked on, puzzled. He scratched his head and looked at Henry. His big golden eyes were clearly concerned.
"Are you sure you even tried?" He leaned back on the bench.
Henry, now lying on the grass, scowled. "Of course I tried! It's just that I can't ever get anything to happen."
He hopped up after regaining some strength. "What about you, then? What's your talent?"
Alexander giggled, standing up off the bench. "You wanna see it? Don't tell anyone I showed you." He raised his arm up and outstretched, palm facing the sky. As he inhaled, red sparks began to appear in his hand. Henry squinted and looked closely, as the sparks seemed to be forming the hilt of a sword.
Just then, a monstrous yell echoed throughout the courtyard.
"ALEXANDER LI FONTAINE!"
Alexander jumped, the sparks fading instantly. Fear spread across his face as he turned to face where the noise came from. In one of the entrances to the courtyard, a tall woman stood, hands in fists on her hips.
"Ms. Miriam, wait! I—" He was cut off as the woman leaped off her spot and crossed the courtyard into the garden in one single stride.
"I cannot believe you have already begun infecting our new arrival with your horrid disobedience. You were banished to the chambers for a reason." She turned to Henry and addressed him, "Return to the chambers, now, boy. The rest will be back from the town soon."
At that, she grabbed Alexander by his hair and began dragging him away. "This will be punished with additional etiquette lessons, child."
"Oh, right! That's the word, etiquette! Bye, Henry!"
Henry watched in silence as the two of them vanished into the building. He waited for a moment and then turned and retraced the steps that he and Alexander had come from.
He sighed, running the scene of Alexander's talent forming through his head. Was everyone else really so strong compared to him? He thought of his parents once more and how much they had supported him regardless of his power.
He walked through the long hall with tables, remembering how his parents would always bring home food from the market, even after working late into the evening. He walked past the long couch, remembering the times that they would all sit together and listen to music from the performance hall up the mountain.
Tears returned to him as he made his way back into the room full of beds—the chambers, as it had been called by Ms. Miriam.
He recalled the nights they all slept in one bed, when Henry was younger and more scared of the vast, devastated world.
He remembered.
One day, perhaps, he would get over it.
He lay down on his new bed, in an unfamiliar building, in an uprooted life, powerless and afraid.
It was then that he came to a conclusion:
When he could get strong, only then would he get over it.