eden

“I’m going to school now!”

“I don’t care!” Darian lifted his head slightly and rubbed his eyes.  The sunlight was going to be blinding when he opened the panels covering his window, but that was to be expected. It was summer, and he was at the North Pole. There was always sunlight. Judging by the noises from downstairs, it was apparent his sister was almost out the door, even though it had only just passed six in the morning. More important than the sounds however, were the smells. The succulent aroma of bacon drifted under his closed door and filled his nostrils. Why did she cook breakfast for him every day? Who knew, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. She was much better at it than him.

“Take care, Ava!” he yelled down as the sound of a slammed door echoed through the house. Darian picked up a small ball from beside his bed, and paused, listening to the sounds of the house. Clocks ticking, cogs turning, the dull roar of the fireplace. It was peaceful, and it was beautiful. It was also about to be spoiled. Bracing himself, Darian threw the ball at the shutters and quickly pulled the sheets up over his head. As it struck and knocked the catch loose, the pair of panels slowly drifted apart and the bright sunlight spilled in, too bright for comfort even filtered through the thick sheets.

A few minutes later, he finally came out of hiding, and his sleepy eyes scanned the room, fighting the urge to squeeze shut against the brightness. He couldn’t see what he was searching for, there was no tell tale reflection of light, and Darian screwed up his forehead, trying to remember what he’d done when he had come home last night. Snapping his fingers, he leaned over the side of his bed and reached underneath it, exploring the space with his fingertips until they brushed over something cold and metallic. Darian shivered; he hated this thing, hated how cold it felt. It was a horrible reminder; one he would happily live with if he could.

Pulling the golden coloured device out, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and carefully attached the mechanical foot onto the matching braces that sat at the stump of his right leg, just above the knee. He disconnected the power cell from its charging port in the wall, slotting it into place at the knee. There was a high pitched whirring, much like the sound of a power drill, as the cell spun around rapidly, securing itself in the artificial limb. Afterwards, he felt a few brief jolts of electricity, not so much painful although they had been at first; now it was merely a minor discomfort.

The electric sensation stopped, signalling that the device had finished connecting itself to the remaining nerves in Darian’s stump. Just like that, he had a leg again. He could walk around, run, and jump. In fact, if you didn’t see it for yourself, you’d never have known he even had the injury.

Trudging downstairs with a heavy footing, the device that had replaced Darian’s leg clicked quietly as gears inside it turned, locked in place and reversed, giving the joints their perfect replication of a normal leg’s movement.

Breakfast smelled good, as it always did when Ava had cooked it. Smoked bacon all but smothered the scent of coffee; and, as it was a Monday, the freshly baked bread took its place among the other aromas. It added an extra sweetness to the air, a sweetness made all the more intense by its absence during the rest of the week. There was only one downside to the incredible food: Darian was intent on savouring each and every taste, and as a result, it didn’t stay hot for as long as it took him to eat it all.

“Thank you, Ava,” he said out loud, as if she were still here to hear him. He proceeded to run his hands through his messy brown hair as he went back upstairs to get dressed, slowly at first, and progressively faster until it was neat - a useful trait which his sister was constantly expressing her envy of.

Getting dressed was a chore, one that Darian would happily live without. Sadly, even if that were legal, he was an apprentice to a blacksmith, and there were risks he wasn’t willing to take.

Shaking his head to clear those thoughts away, he pulled his gear out of his wardrobe. It was light grey in colour and made of a rare, heat resistant fabric. The people of Eden called it Tex, which was short for some full chemical name that nobody could pronounce. It was thick and rough like leather, but also light, with the flexibility of cotton. So far, Darian had come up with exactly one downside to the material: it was good at keeping the heat of the forges out, but on the flipside, it kept the heat of his artificial leg trapped in, and he had to take the power cell out to cool almost three times as often as he otherwise would.

Frowning at himself in the mirror, Darian slotted a metal quarterstaff into a holder on the back of his tunic and once again wished he shared the common opinion that the leather armour wasn’t an idiotic look. He made his way up the seven stories to the roof of the house, locked the hatch behind him, and ran to the edge, diving off without hesitation, his arms stretched out to the side.