Chapter 1: A new beginning
On a sunny afternoon, in a small town by the coast, a baby boy was born to a merchant Liam and his wife Camille. The boy had brown hair and brown eyes, just like his father. It cried loudly announcing his presence to the world. Still covered in blood in the hands of the midwife, the baby looked more like a deformed demonic potato rather than a human.
The couple was overjoyed at the arrival of their first child, to the world it may look like an abomination but to them, he looked like a gift from God – precious, shining, a true miracle. They named Ciaran, in honor of his Grandmother Ciera, who unfortunately was not present for the birth of her grandson.
The merchant was a kind and generous man who had built his business from scratch. He was a hard worker and had become very successful, but he never forgot his humble beginnings. He had met his wife, in a small café in town. She was a shy girl with a kind heart, and he fell in love with her instantly.
Camille was not a beautiful woman, but she had a warm smile that lit up her face. She had grown up in a poor family and had learned to appreciate the simple things in life. She was an excellent cook and loved to sew and knit. She was excited to become a mother and had spent months preparing for the arrival of their baby.
When Ciaran was born, Camille held him in her arms and marveled at the miracle of life. Liam stood by her side, tears in his eyes, and his heart overflowing with love for his family. They both knew that their lives would never be the same again. Not so happy was Liam's father, The Colonel. The man stood two meters tall (6, 5 ft.), dwarfing everybody in the room. He was muscular, with a death stare that looked scarier than death.
The midwife was trembling, fearing for the young child's life. Just as she was contemplating making a run for it with the kid in hopes of keeping him alive, a slap echoed in the room. An old lady had slapped the mountain of a man and was shaking her hand in pain.
"Drop the act you old goat!" she told him.
"Edit I am n-". He couldn't even finish his sentence before his wife told him in the sweetest voice she could muster.
"Drop it or we are getting a divorce"
This was the first time she had threatened him with the Big D word. He was a strong silent man with a rough attitude, he had been one his whole life, yet his wife had always been by his side, always supporting.
The midwife was almost suffocated by the pressure emitted by the old man, just as she was about to have a mental breakdown, the most bizarre thing happened – the old man broke down into tears, the biggest grin on his face.
"I am a granddad Edit. I have a grandchild."
"WE have a grandkid and it's the happiest day of our lives, so no posturing as the perfect soldier, not today, not with him, not anymore. Promise me, Edie."
The old man wanted to defend himself, wanted to say that he was not posturing but that he WAS the perfect soldier, but the cries of his little angel and his wife's seriousness forced the only two words that could possibly come out of his mouth – "I promise"
As Jack grew up, he should become a happy and healthy child. His parents would doted on him and love him fiercely. Liam could take him to work, and show him the ropes of the trade. Another possibility was the military, where his grandfather could push his carrier as a prominent soldier.
Of course, his mother wouldn't want anything bad happening to her baby so she would fiercely oppose the idea. To her, the best possible option was the path of a scholar, safe behind the walls of the academy.
Ciaran had many fascinating options ahead of him - his father's business where he would watch the ships come in and out of the harbor. The military where he would more or less be treated like royalty and everything else he might need his family would provide.
For now, though, the midwife had finally calmed down enough to clean him up and give him to his mother where he had fallen asleep peacefully. His only desire was for the loud giants to shut up so he could rest, being a baby is hard work after all.
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Camille spent most of her time at home, taking care of Jack and running the household. She loved to sing to him and read him stories. She would often take him for walks by the beach and teach him about the different sea creatures they would find.
The one-year-old would giggle at the funny shapes of the "sea doggies" as he would call them. More than once he would cry as his mom wouldn't let him play with them.
"Ranny they are harmless to me but deadly for you baby" she would tell him. The little one didn't care for an explanation; he just wanted to tussle with his slimy sea friends. Needless to say, this brought on endless headaches to his mother.
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When Ciaran was six years old, he started to attend school. He was an eager learner and loved to read. He would spend hours at the library, devouring books on history, geography, and science.
His teachers were impressed by his intelligence and his thirst for knowledge. His greatest dismay was that the library was separated into sections, and as one of the youngest, he was only allowed into the first one with the most elementary of books.
This isn't to say that he found the books easy, he was no genius, but he loved learning and complicated or not he wanted more. His curiosity burned and the fact that the "big ones" as he called the adults didn't even allow him to go near section two made that itch inside his head even worse. More than once he tried to sneak his way in, every attempt a familiar. When he realized he can't make it in alone he knew he needed help so he cooked up a plan.
The first step was to consult a professional as he had no experience in raising an army and leading his troops. One entire weekend he spent going through strategies and planning with his grandpa.
"Listen well Private Ciaran first you need to motivate your soldiers, find out what they want and course them into helping you out. Yours is no easy task so you will need at least a dozen soldiers. Next, make sure they are all loyal, no one likes snitches." His grandson looked confused to the Colonel clarified.
"A snitch is someone who would tell on you to the teachers" – a look of understanding and disgust shined on the young lad's face. "Finally you need a solid plan; breaking into the second level would be a challenging task even with your whole squad. Think, Plan ahead, and always remember Grandpa will always have your back."
The next school day the little general began his war preparations, he found out that of his sixty-seven classmates only five shared in his thirst for knowledge. He shared his ambitions and his plans with them and they all agreed, this had to happen; knowledge was to be shared by everyone. That being said they needed more hands, and more comrades, so they devised a plan.
Lately, their teachers gave them only fruit as snacks, saying it's better for their growing bodies. That gave Ciaran the idea to tell the rest of the chosen, the ones who he knew would not tell on him that the candy was hidden in level two of the library. Needless to say, his innovative suggestion ( that he knew was probably a lie) worked, a little too well, in fact as by the end of the recruitment stage he had the joy of commanding forty-one soldiers.
Next came the training faze, he couldn't lead unprepared soldiers to their death after all. Their training consisted of Stamina training (running around in playtime), hand-to-hand combat ( resealing and biting which was frowned upon), range training ( they wanted to use rocks but wisely chose to tone it down to their rubber balls each of which was as big as a marble), and finally distraction and corporate espionage (distracting the teachers and dragging them away ) this task was given to the students who the teachers perceived as most trustworthy, as such Ciaran promoted them to executive backstabbers.
Ciaran Clades was a cautious kid, mostly due to all the times he has already been caught, so he insisted that the training be prolonged. One whole month of ferocious army training (perceived as little more than rougher play by the teachers) and they were finally ready to storm the gates and take what was theirs. It was time for the siege to begin and History to be written.