Nathan was the oldest male in the orphanage, and the most skilled at the work he had been put to.
The 14 year old male was raised by the previous headmaster, who was the sister of the current headmaster- Mrs. Fera. That was until she recently died, and as soon as the new headmaster took over, his entire life took a turbulent turn.
Life was not exactly great before, but he was able to get by. Once the children in the orphanage turned 12 they were sent to work as apprentices to craftsmen in the village in order to learn a trade and make their own living once they were sent off. Nathan therefore worked daily for a carpenter, until the new headmaster took over that is.
Once the headmaster took over, his apprenticeship was suspended and he was instead put to work in the newly built factory.
This time however, it wasn't just the children above 12.
It was everyone.
Nathan was more experienced than most children, so he took on the responsibility of the heavy lifting, but the way the children were treated was inhumane.
Many suffered cuts and burns from handling the equipment and machinery.
The poverty which the children currently faced was far greater than anything they had ever experienced, and this was a result of the greed of Mrs. Fera, who allocated every penny to herself and her own profits, and spent the absolute minimum only to keep her free labor force running.
Nathan had deep hatred towards her for this, but there was nothing he could do.
As soon as he was 15, he planned to get out of here. He would be an adult officially at that point, and he would go back to his apprenticeship for the carpenter he worked for.
Nathan worried for the other children, and he was troubled as to what would happen to them once he left. He was far more skilled than most of them, and as soon as he left the productivity would significantly decline.
Since they were held to a quota each day, this meant that if people got sick or injured that the same work would be split among the remaining people- meaning whoever was left would have to work harder to carry the weight of the missing people.
Nathan didn't hold it past Mrs. Fera to keep the workload the same for the others, even after he left.
She was a vampire who would suck every last victim dry before throwing them aside.
Despite being so troubled, he wondered if there was actually anything he could do about it.
Would he just run away, leaving the rest of the children to continue suffering, or would he muster up the courage to do something about it? Even Nathan was unsure. He didn't know whether he would be able to stand up for what is right when the time came.
It would be easy to say 'Of course I will do what is right! Of course I will stand up for the weak! Of course I will help the innocent!'
But people who say those things- when it truly comes down to it- realize that they were only performing lip service, and telling the ones around them what they wanted to hear.
Of course, everyone would like to think that they would be a hero in a life or death situation.
That they would risk everything to help those weak and abused.
But these same people are more than likely to run away with their tail in between their legs when they are faced with a true life and death scenario.
They will save their own lives before anything. This isn't evil. It is only human.
Nathan didn't think he was better than other people, or able to perform such heroic actions, as much as he would like to do so. He didn't know what he would do if it came down to it.
Still, he knew one thing right now, and one thing only.
That he had to keep working.
He had to keep molding the metal in front of him. He had to continuously strengthen it with the hammer. He had to keep his body moving, despite his great fatigue.
He had a quota to fulfill, and he wouldn't be able to eat or sleep until it was fulfilled.
If it wasn't fulfilled by the end of the day, then it would carry over to the next day, leading to an endless cycle of working day and night.
When Mrs. Fera first came into power, the very first day he made many mistakes. He was barely able to create even a poorly made sword, and he paid dearly for this lack of experience.
Among all the children, who were just beginners at the craft, Mrs. Fera set an unbelievable quota for the first few days. They were unable to make it the first day, and they were not allowed to eat or sleep.
This forced Nathan to get serious about figuring out how to quickly and efficiently produce.
Despite his endless fatigue and hunger, which all the children around him shared, he knew that there was nothing he could do but succeed. It was his only option.
After the 2nd day, he was able to make a few weapons and a set of armor- after numerous tries. However, this was still nowhere near the quota.
Nathan collapsed in fatigue in the middle of the workshop, and slept on the cold floor that night before waking up bright and early to see that many of the other children had passed out as well.
Mrs. Fera had locked them in, with the notice that if they didn't finish the quota for all 3 days, that things would only get worse from there. There was a tank of dirty water which had only enough for a few days if they rationed it out, and it was only there so they wouldn't die of thirst- nothing more.
Nathan, fully energized from the sleep but with a completely empty stomach, once more prepared for the day, and got ready to produce.
And produce he did.
Some of the children gathered around to watch him, as his hands worked with extremely fine movements as if he was a practiced master.
He was a prodigy. In only a few days, he was able to go from a complete amateur to one who could mass produce without thought.
He was then able to teach the other older children how to do as he did, and while their work was slower and the quality was worse, they had at least made some progress.
The quota was not caught up to until the 6th day, where they were finally allowed to eat a meal together and sleep back in the orphanage.
However, things had completely changed by the time they were allowed back in.
The playroom had been locked, and much of the furniture was gone.
A new set of rules were established.
While each person in the group was allowed to have a piece of bread each on that day, this was a one time occurrence.
From then on, they were ranked based on their production, and allowed to eat and sleep in beds based on these rankings.
It was horrible, but it was a benefit for Nathan who was the best worker by far.
Even so, he did all he could to keep the other children fed, but if he ever tried to give them his bread he met severe punishment, so he never did that after the first time.
Soon, people began dying.
One after another, due to injury and sickness children started being culled. One even died in an accident after slipping while carrying a pan of molten metal. The boiling fluid covered his face and he died on the spot after a bout of screaming in pain.
It was disturbing, and after seeing that, each of the children were filled with a horror beyond imagination.
"I.... don't want to do this anymore...."
"Nathan..... when are we going to leave here?"
"When are we going to finish working? When will we be able to play again?"
But Nathan couldn't allow himself to become riddled with emotion.
He had to continue surviving.
He couldn't shed a tear on those poor souls who died of sickness or injury, for if he did he feared he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going insane.
He had to keep working.
He had to keep his hands moving.
Despite the hunger, despite the fatigue, despite the mental stress and torment he went through, he continued.
Even now, Nathan kept his hands moving.
His emotions were bottled up and sealed away in a dark corner of his heart, and he pretended like they didn't exist.
But this was not the case.
He understood well that deep within him, he would never bring himself to forgive Mrs. Fera for what she had turned this orphanage into. And neither would the other children.
They became robots.
Tools.
They focused only on obeying the orders of Mrs. Fera so as to not be punished.
They could not think of anything else but to work and to produce.
Perhaps one day they would explode, but that day was not today. They had to continue their work, for the sole purpose of surviving.
Nathan continued working for the rest of the day, and when he had finished the last set of equipment, he went over to the shelves to count everything up, ensuring that the daily quota was fulfilled.
It was.
They could live another day.
But how much longer would they be able to live like this? Many of the younger children were starving, and they would reach their limit.
He had to allocate food to them one way or another. Fortunately, since Mrs. Fera was gone today he would be able to do so.
It would be obvious that he was lying, in saying that they did the most work- however Mrs. Fera would have no proof to say otherwise, as she didn't oversee the factory herself today.
Nathan stood forward at the door of the warehouse, and called out to the rest of the children.
"Let's head inside, everyone. It's time for dinner."
----
After a short nap, Mrs. Fera awoke to the sound of the door opening.
'Ah, it seems that I've dozed off... I suppose I've been a bit too tired recently. I am working very hard, of course.'
It was then that she remembered her own anger, and the fact that one of the children must have broken into the orphanage while she was gone.
'Ah, those little.... I need to show them well just what they've done wrong...'
Mrs. Fera got up and exited the room to see all the children filing in through the front door.
Nathan was at the head of the group, and they lined up in a 5x6 row.
"Mrs. Fera, we have completed the quota for today. However, on my way in.... I can't help but notice that there seems to be something wrong with the door handle. Is everything alright?"
It was Nathan who asked this.
"Oh?? You noticed, eh? You noticed that something is wrong with the door handle, hmm??"
Mrs. Fera seemed to be very irritated, and was pacing back and forth with a condescending face.
"Just what was wrong with the door handle, Nathan?"
"Well... it seemed that the door was forced open. The wood around the handle was completely destroyed. Please take a look for yourself if you haven't seen it."
The children made a pathway for Mrs. Fera to walk through, and she went over to the door and pretended to inspect it- in a way that was very obviously a facade out of sarcasm.
"Hmmmm!!! It does indeed seem as if this door handle has been destroyed!!! Now, just who.... could it have been??? Does anyone here have any guesses?? I will give a piece of bread to anyone who can tell me what happened here."
"Was it a robber?", a young child- about 8 years of age- asked innocently. There was no sense of greed or gain in his tone, he was simply legitimately trying to help.
"A robber, eh?? Hmm.... not a bad guess. Not a bad guess at all. As a matter of fact, that was the first thing that came to my mind when I first saw this broken door. Now, why don't we all go on a little field trip. Follow me children. Over here!"
Mrs. Fera went behind the desk counter, to the door that led to her own room to show that her own door had been broken into.
"If it was a robber, then that would make so much sense, wouldn't it! My room as well has been broken into!! A robber would of course want to steal valuable things, and where else would these things be but in my own room. Isn't that right, children!?"
"Yes ma'am!", all the children shouted in unison. She had instilled a sense of tension in them from her irritation, and they all stood on guard like soldiers who were about to get a harsh scolding from a drill sergeant.
"Buttttttt..... there is something odd. Very odd indeed. Something that is incomprehensible. And that is, nothing has been stolen!!! Nothing at all!!! Not even the things that were wide in the open! No gold, no jewelry, nothing!! Isn't that strange???"
The children looked back and forth to each other in complete confusion.
Even if they weren't the brightest, they understood enough to know that indeed something was off.
"Mrs. Fera, is it possible that-"
One child spoke up, however Mrs. Fera gave him a furious glare, and he shut his mouth before speaking.
'Is is possible that the one who broke in didn't have time to steal anything, and is still in this building', was what the 12 year old boy was going to say.
"Now.... that first guess was a dud. A failure. A mistake. Just like every single one of you. What do you do when you make a mistake? You try to erase it with a success. Just like I wish I could erase every single one of you. Let's try again, but this time with some more information."
Mrs. Fera walked over to the hallway, and the group of children followed her like a line of marching soldiers, until they reached the door to the playroom.
Of course it was broken as well.
"Now... let's take a look. What does the sign here say. Can anyone tell me?"
"Playroom...", one of the younger girls said.
"Thats right, Jessica. Playroom. Do you know what the playroom is? Anyone?"
"A room with toys and games....", a young boy said.
"Exactly!! A room with toys and games, where you children used to play, relax, and have fun before. Right?? Isn't that what the playroom is?"
Many of the children were scared to answer. Agreeing would imply that her current rule- that of locking the playroom off was wrong. It would state that she had rid fun from the lives of the children, by locking the playroom. Disagreeing of course, would mean that they disagreed with her, which they could never do. It was a checkmate, and so the children all remained silent. Even the youngest ones were too scared to say anything.
"But I am sure you all know that things like toys, games and fun are useless. Right? People will tell you that you need to relax in order to work well, that you need to take breaks and have time off in order to be able to work in your best state. But they are wrong!!!! That's nothing more than a lazy excuse for those who wish to lounge about, doing nothing as they claim that there is a reason for their stagnancy!!! I've trained you all to be better than those fools, right???'
"Yes, ma'am!"
"But why then.... why is it that this room has been opened?? We've already established that it could not have been a burglar, as nothing has been stolen. Just what then, could have happened here? Who exactly broke in? And why would they have entered the playroom? Why don't we take a look inside for the answer."
Mrs. Fera opened the door, and pointed out the footprints in the dust. There were another set of footprints- her own from when she originally entered and investigated.
"Now, those large footprints there are my own, but take a look at the other set. What do you all think when you see them? Anyone?"
"Um.... they're small?"
"Yes!!! Exactly!!! They. Are. Small. What does this mean, then??? Anyone? Anyone???"
Nobody answered. Some had realized what was implied, and others didn't- but the ones who did know were aware that the answer was something very dangerous for them.
They belong to a child.
This was the only logical conclusion.
"Nobody knows?"
Mrs. Fera seemed to be getting more and more enraged with each second that passed.
"Fine then. Since nobody knows, it seems that I will have to tell you myself."
Mrs. Fera paused for dramatic effect, and looked around to see the faces of all the children.
'One of them.... no, it could be all of them. Someone here has tried to pull one over me, but I won't allow this.'
"It was one of you little brats who broke in while I was gone."
----
Coran and Alicia had rested for a while ever since witnessing Mrs. Fera take a rest, before the children entered the orphanage.
'Ah, it seems that the children in the factory indeed are the ones who live here', Coran thought as he watched the children enter and line up.
Going from peekhole to peekhole, Coran kept an eye on the situation in every room throughout the building.
He watched as Mrs. Fera got up and out, and he witnessed her little detective session with the children.
With every word she spoke, a chill went down the spine of Coran.
He could tell just by the way she acted.
By the way she carried herself.
By the way she spoke to the children.
She was exactly like his mother.
She used these children for her own benefit.
She planned on raising them, but only so long as they proved useful.
Perhaps she would even toy with them for her own entertainment, in the same way that his mother had allowed him to take part in the battle for survival among his siblings.
This woman was nothing like his masters.
This woman was a hypocrite.
His masters were ruthless, but they were also fair. They wouldn't harm anyone without a reason, and they wouldn't berate those under them like this woman did.
His masters treated every single one of their subordinates with kindness and compassion. Even if they were ever reprimanded, it was only out of concern and in an attempt to get those who are mistaken to improve.
This woman was nothing like them.
She hounded herself over these children, acting as if she was better than them.
It was fine for his masters to act like they were better than everyone else, because they were. But this woman was nothing more than a mere human. So why did she treat these children with such a snobby attitude?
Coran found himself getting annoyed by the way the woman was speaking.
'Well, one thing is for sure, she is the last person who will accept me and Alicia. I should try to stay away from here. It looks like we should move onto another home to find a different person to investigate, however not quite yet. I should at least wait until tonight to travel through the town in the darkness, when not many people are out. There is also the problem of escaping, but I can do that when everyone is asleep. I should be able to run out in a flash, so long as nobody is awake to notice anything strange.'
Coran decided to leave later tonight, but for now he would watch how things progressed.
The woman led the children, and continued her little detective rant until she led them to the playroom.
'Ah, she's talking about the footprints I made. I hope she hasn't caught onto anything.'
"It was one of you little brats who broke in while I was gone."
'Eh? She thinks they did it?'