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“This sucks!” Shouted Joaquin; slamming his dist down on the book he was reading, The Meaning of the Sun. Unsurprisingly the fourteen year old had no interest in the complex book retelling the tale of Gale Angel, Nikola Tesla, and the Roman witch, Fortuna, who were driven from their homes by a menacing shadow entity named Dyavaprthivi. Much like in the story the characters were severely punished by Nemesis, the goddess of Retribution, for climbing the Arcanum Tower and trying to learn the meaning of the sun, but what did any of this have to do with him?

“Who wants to read in the middle of summer?” he said to himself, looking out the window, which was covered in snow. In his young mid Nemesis’ retribution was this cold weather, without father or fun. “Why is it snowing in summer? This is ridiculous!” he stormed out of his room, running down the stairs, letting his mind wander while looking at the picture that hung on the wall.

“Young master, is everything all right?” asked the butler, a bald, thin man with a thin mustache that gave the aspect of catfish whiskers.

“No, Alan, everything is not fine nor hunky dory or any of that satisfactory crap you and the servants try to give me. Its been snowing for six weeks, and I haven’t seen Dad for two months.” Even in his rather childish anger, he couldn’t concentrate.

“Young master you must understand that your father gave strict orders not to let you play outside, and if you think by making faces and complaining you’re going to get your way, you’re mistaken.” Alan said, fixing the handkerchief on his black tuxedo.

Joaquin was reminded of how Tesla bought the freedom of Gale who in return, was tricked into becoming the new guide of Tesla’s unholy expedition. Where was Tesla now? How much he wish he too could attend that wild adventure. “Why am I not allowed to play outside like all the other normal kids?” as the son of an aristocrat man, Joaquin had been forced to take multiples languages and , music classes, out of all the “study habits” his father had tough him, he only remained faithful to swordsmanship and sculpting.

“Because you young master are the son of a noble, I myself would had given anything in my childhood to have Lord Claremont as my father.” said Alan, imagining his childhood with Lord Claremont has a father. “But fate would have it that I had a drunk for a father and scarlet woman for a mother. However I turn out just fine, my mother’s profession fed us very well. I say if she was not dead I would had gladly pay her a visit, she made wonderful pie.” Alan closed his eyes, letting his imagination grow and breath in the air as if smiling his late mother’s pie.

Joaquin could only think how much this resemble a scene in the book were Gale spoke of wanting to drink and eat to one of his mother delicious dinner. “Not like he his my father….I am only his illegitimate son. I am sure he has other family more important than me.”

“No Young master, he love you very much and you are his only family but if anyone finds out---”

“If anyone knew Sir Trevor Claremont had an illegitimate son, Sir Claremont governmental position will be put in jeopardy not to say his son would be taken by the authorities. I know I heard about a million times!” He felt represented by Gale unlike other heroes, he and Gale both were confined to solitude in order to live a life without threats. But was that even worth living?