Misa Sinth:
Run you ungrateful punk!! I better not catch you back here again or you’re dead!

Fazil heard these words but kept on walking. There was no way he was turning back around now. As he walks on towards the end of the road he spots the sign that reads: FEERIAL VILLAGE ½ MILE. Feerial Village was the main village on, Sael, the Third Island, on Arcantha, the world of the healers. It is also the largest village on Arcantha. Though each island has a main village and shopping areas, here is where most Arcanthians do their shopping for food, clothing, and other goods that are imported from Blithe, the sister world to Arcantha. Fazil smiles at seeing the sign and is relieved since it was to be dark soon. The hills to his left looked beautiful in the dimming sunlight casting a beautiful glow over their jagged edges. It is indeed a beautiful day to run away. Though Feerial isn’t that far Fazil is beginning to get tired and the cold was coming upon him fast.

Fazil:
I hope I find shelter soon or I’m going to die out here.

These words ring true since the cold came quick taking you over and knocking you down. He zips up the red striped jacket and puts his hood on over his messy head. Fazil, a fifteen year old kid of 5’9, has big, greenish gray eyes and long black hair with patches of teal green falling to his shoulders. He has a perfect pointed nose with a hoop in the left nostril and full lips with a black hoop through his lip done by himself. As he keeps walking he begins rubbing his bare grayish purple legs and finds that wearing shorts wasn’t such a good idea. After trying in vain to keep warm Fazil slows down and taps his side just under the armpits then waits a few minutes. Suddenly a pair of what seem to be angel wings painlessly appears from his left and right shoulder blades. They are grayish and dark brown, beautifully decorated with white spots at the end. He waits for them to finish expanding then begins to flap them. The thunderous five foot wings lifts him off the ground with ease and carries him the rest of the way to Feerial Village. After reaching the Village, Fazil stows his wings again between his shoulder blades then starts in search for shelter. It was dark by now and everything was closed plus he had no money, and therefore he could not afford a place to stay. As he walks along the streets of Feerial he stumbles upon an opening in the ground and realizes that one of the grates that covered the underground tunnels is missing. Without hesitation Fazil jumps down the hole and runs full speed towards one of the tunnels to his right. He stops short then sits down and breaths in deeply, exhaling with a bit of satisfaction. He props his bag against one of the tunnel walls then lays his head down. It is hard trying to sleep but he feels he would have to manage one way or another. As his eyes begin to close, he starts thinking back to when his father would always yell at him and tell him how much he didn’t care for him.

Misa Sinth in a harsh biting voice:
Fazil, you’ll never be anything but the spit I created you from. You’re not worth a damn to care about so I don’t care whether you live or die today or tomorrow.

Fazil in a slight country accent without feeling:
If that’s how you feel then why not leave me in a volcano somewhere and be rid of me.

Misa:
I would, but I need a worker for the farm and I have no money to pay for one, and so you’ll just have to do.

Fazil:
How come you don’t love me? I’ve tried to love you but you won’t love me back.

Misa:
What’s there to love? You’re nothing to me but a boy that works on the farm. You’re a worker in my eyes… Ha! I never wanted children, but your mother was the one that wanted to keep you, and I wanted to keep her happy. But, she’s gone now.

Fazil:
Yeah. She’s gone now… (Under his breath) I wish it were you instead.

Misa:
Get back to work these vegetables won’t plant themselves.

Fazil to a patch of blue crystalized flowers on the ground:
I love you momma. I miss you so much. I must say, though, you’d make a beautiful bouquet.

Fazil smiles in his sleep remembering those flowers that kept him happy. Because her flower spirit was blooming ever so brightly, he knew in his heart his mother was doing well now in the heavens above. As an Arcanthian when you die your body becomes one with the dirt. The body becomes crystalized flowers of all colors and bloom wherever the home or the heart is. The Arcanthian people are spiritual people and are powerful healers on this World. Here, there are four types of healing powers, four types of spiritualists, within four clans. Fazil’s family was apart of the Sinth Clan, or the second Clan. They heal the mind, or at least they were supposed to, but Fazil believed that his ability to heal was being stifled by his father’s abusive ways. Furthermore, he’d never seen his father heal anyone in all his life. Fazil sneers at the thought of his father healing anyone then relaxes his body and falls fast asleep in his new home.