Sanctuary Orphanage - Beran's Arrival

Even on a Summer night, Havenstep was cool. Its six boulevards, which branched into countless capillaries of streets and alleyways, was tempered by the breeze falling from the surrounding caldera. Next to where all six met, at the true centre of the city, resided the orphanage known as Sanctuary.

It was a large castle; made out of green stone and even darker bricks. Its triangular perimeter sported many towers of varying heights, at the edges and within. The southern-facing wall was furnished with an extensive window that overlooked the Circle Market. There was only ever one entrance in Sanctuary, but the new arrival that night didn’t need it.

Sanctuary was tended to by Mycel, the god who created this world. He made certain that the orphanage was accessible solely to the children under his care, the exception being the empty hall at the entrance. Inside, the walls - first scrubbed by the children, then made spotless by his divine magic when they were all asleep - were of a lighter green than the exterior. One could always hear the echoing distant footsteps of some mischievous brat, or the excited giggles behind nearly-closed doors. With hundreds of young inhabitants, calm silence was never quite a trait of Sanctuary.

Tonight, the hushed conversation of a pair sitting on the stairs of the lamp-lit foyer was interrupted by a faint pop that they both recognised. At the bottom of the stairs suddenly appeared a bronze-skinned child, seemingly no more than ten years of age, with a head of exuberant hair of all types: coils of black; curls of pale blond; long brown; short red; and uncountable others. Displaying unnatural strength, He held in his arms a child that looked not much younger. Coughing and wheezing, face ashened with grey, the kid was carried up the stairs by the god who rescued them.

Due to the darkness that was insufficiently lit in the impoverished quarter of the city, no one who would’ve cared had seen the smoke before the smouldering became a roaring blaze. There were two who were trapped by the flames in the upstairs bedroom, and two more who tried to find a way up. An older sister, almost seventeen-years-old, held a damp cloth to the face of her sibling, hoping it would last until the parents came. In a few moments, the stairway collapsed, and its debris buried her hopes of their rescue.

It was then that Mycel arrived.

Though Mycel was kind and helpful to his orphans, He is by no means generous with his aid. He’d sworn to protect all those who were young and hopeless. Though both Camella and Beran were the latter, Mycel did not consider her young. This was explained to them both, and so the younger sibling arrived within Mycel’s grand shelter, angry, and with a deceased family left behind.