Fallen Stars - H.S

Chapter One

Chapter One

IT IS AT dinner on the evening of the second day of April that I see him through the window of the Mess Hall.

Fort Hull is beginning to settle down for the night like every other. The sun creates a wondrous setting in the sky, like a canvas painted with deep oranges and comforting blues, a scene that I would admire from the roof of my shared house. However, with pursed lips, I ignore that view, which is abnormal for me. Usually I would beg Wilson to excuse me from the table in hopes of spending a few moments in serenity, but today I'm silent.

As the chatter of a hundred residences fell into the background, I study him with squinted eyes. He's blatantly new, and it shows it on his face as he looks back and forth between buildings, trying to find his way around like a fawn. His feet are unsure, and his hands are crossed over his chest, but his mouth is set into a hard line as if he's criticising every aspect of this camp.

There's a tug on my faded green shirt. I tear my eyes from the new boy to the seat next to me, where Danae gazes up at me with wide hazel eyes, the strays of her blonde hair falling over her petite features. She motions for me to bend down to her size, so she can whisper in my ear. "Are you going to eat your green beans?"

At Fort Hull, you are given rations according to age, size, and occupation. For a small girl like Danae, she is given smaller portions and more often than not, I have to feed her a snack when we get back home. Her plate is clear, almost sparkling because she eats everything. She's struggled finding food her whole life, wondering if and when the next meal would come along. Now that she has three guaranteed meals a day, she's doing a little better. Her face is happier than when she first arrived, and she's more nourished, even if it isn't always quite enough.

"You can have them," I slide my plate to meet hers and proceed to transfer the green vegetables onto her plate. I don't particularly like them, anyway.

In the corner of my eye, I see Wilson frown but avoid direct contact. It's not a rule, but it's glowered upon to give up your food. We are supposed to be grateful for what's given. But I'm not going to stand aside and watch this little girl go hungry while I have a bit of food I wasn't planning on eating.

Moments later, another ration of beans is being spooned onto her plate. I glance up at Niall, who sits diagonal of me and in front of Danae. His tongue pokes between his lips before smiling sweetly at the girl, completely disregarding the glares from his father.

"You know you shouldn't do that," he says when no one takes notice of him.

Niall wipes his hands together, settling back down. "Too late now. Go ahead and eat, Danae."

Wilson shifts in his seat, wanting to say more but he decides against it, seeing as we're currently seated in a crowded mess hall. It's amusing how they wear the same scowl, and how their lips curl down in displeasure. If that doesn't show the fact that they're related, their identical baby blue eyes would, and even, at some point in the past, their blond hair. Wilson now has receding gray hairs and wrinkles all around his face-some from laughter and others from frowning.

Danae can also be pinned as Wilson's daughter; apart from her hazel eyes that can be written off as a characteristic she inherited from her mother. Her growing locks are the same shade as Niall's, and they both have an exuberant aurora surrounding them a majority of the time. She took up their last name, too. One day, her teacher came up and informed us that she wanted to be called Danae Horan because she didn't have a last name that she ever knew. I didn't even do that at a young age, and I've lived with them my whole life.