1 Early Years - Rewrite (1/2)
The year was 2135.
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The hilltop grass bent lazily as a sad wind meandered its way, blowing past a man who was standing placidly as he held the hand of a small boy. The boy held out an urn to the man who looked lost in thought, peering at the horizon where the last rays of twilight stretched across the sky bestowing it with a red hue.
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The man finally took the urn from the small boy and shook it causing fine dust to take to the air. The wind caught the dust, twisting and swirling it towards the horizon. The pair watched it rise until it dissipated. After a few minutes, there was nothing remaining from the contents of the urn except memories.
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Further down the hill, a group of onlookers talked in hushed voices.
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”Do you think they will be ok?” The young lady asked.
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”Ikaros was always independent before they met, but I imagine they were so in love he will never be the same,” another older lady answered.
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Close friends and family were gathered at the bottom of the hill, after the ceremony it was decided that Ikaros and his son would throw the ashes off the large hill into the wind. It was a symbolic gesture signifying they were letting Laine go.
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”What about the boy?” The young lady asked.
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”He is too young to understand, but anyone that age would miss their mother terribly,” the older lady answered.
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”I wouldn't be so sure,” a man interjected. ”Laine was so proud of him she showed me his aptitude scores, and they were off the charts.”
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”In what way?” The young lady asked.
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”I'm not an expert, but I'm fairly sure he broke the test. All I could see were one hundreds,” the man said.
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”What will he do? With scores like that he should surely go to the Academy on scholarship,” the young lady observed.
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”We should be more concerned with counselling, and day to day affairs,” the older woman replied. ”Will you go and see them? Make sure they're alright?”
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The trio were interrupted by the woman in the hover chair turning to face them, tears were streaming down her face, and she struggled to speak, ”I will look after him,” she said dramatically. The words came out were blubbery as she was weeping openly. ”Always.” She said emphatically before attempting to move away.
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”Cisse, don't,” the young lady said and went to grab the chair. ”Oh dear, why this chair. Please, Cisse, you are all alone, come home with me tonight.”
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”I'm fine,” she said in a determined manner and scooted off leaving the small crowd behind.
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Etana Daedo was nine years old in the year 2139 when he went to his first Academy entrance trials.
”Etana are you ready?” His father called.
”Yes, Father,” he answered as he left his room. It was the year 2139 and Etana was prepared for the most important day of his short life.