Abbair moved into the boat as dusk fell. The family followed behind pushing off into the ocean. The father and the son began to paddel the boats with the oars that had taken with them. Abbair stared at the land as they moved further and further away.
"Goodbye Grandmother." Abbair said softly. His hand clenched a small madaleion the size of a quarter. It was a bronze color that had a wierd eye design in the middle that was a reddish brown color.
Abbair only had to wait about a half an hour before the entire world that he knew was pitch black. The boat swayed and Abbair heard the lapping of the waves. It was smoothing, as if a lulaby, it was almost as if the entire world was trying to cause him to sleep. But he couldn't though, I mean could he? He was threatened, the boy had said that he would die on this journey. But was that so bad? If he died, there would be no more jeering, no more whispering behind him as he walked past crowds.
He remeber it began when he was three. It began with his mother, or at least he thought it did. He learned later that his father had walked out on him when he was one, unable ,suposible, to be able to deal with Abbair's appearence. His mother hadn't blamed Abbair until he was three when he began to talk, and understand what things ment, better then he ever had. She had beat him, namecalled him, barely remebered to feed him. this went on for five years. When relitives came Abbair's mother would hide him in the closet, not wanting anyone to see his tan skin and white hair. His eyes reminded her of his father, was what she always said, and she beat him for that as well. Five years later, Abbiar was playing out side when he was visted by an older woman who talked to him kindly. and asked to meet his mother. It turned out to be his grandmother, and she took him from that place giving him a gift. A bronze tolken necklace with a crimson brown design of a type of eye. After that things seemed to get better. Abbair barly noticed the remarkes he got when he went into town but they didn't go unnoticed. Sometimes late at night Abbair would cry himself to sleep, but his grandmother was always there to help him move on, until she had died, the prievious year.
On that day Abbair refused any help from his granmother's friends that they wished to give. He sold everything his grandmother had left him and used it to give her a proper barrile. Which left him with barely enough mony to live by. He didn't care though. If he were to die, be go to were his grandmother had gone, be free of this world. That was until this family took him. Did he feel different now then he did then? Why? Then the answer came to him. The girl with the fiery red hair. She had been kind to him despite his coldness to him, despite his looks and despite what her 'family' had thought. She was different, and to him it was if his grandmother had come back to take care of him.
Abbiar opened his eyes to see the boy's face of hate. His breath was pushed from his body as an ore was hit hard into his chest by the boy.
"Time to paddle, earn your place on this boat. I've decided not to get rid of you yet, that was it's less work for me. You paddle now and I may let you sleep during the day with the sun burns your tainted skin." Abbiar pushed the paddle through the water as the boy did with the other side. He was getting permission by his enemy to keep living.
"I'm so glad I have your permission."Abbiar said as he felt the Ores beginging to work. "I didn't know that I had that chance to live in a life of missery since you stole me from my home." Abbiar felt anger corsing through his blood. The boys inhalling and exhaling told Abbiar that the boy felt the same way.
The blood pounded like a tempo that had to be followed. THe boys rowed on and on through the night. There never ending silent battle of rage. They couldn't talk. No that would give the other an advantage of breath that wasn't to be wasted for presious arguing. The sun began to rise slowly and Finally the two began to slow. The sun ment was going to wake up and if she saw them engaged in this battle it would end badly for the two of them. Their rowing stopped when the Parents awoke and gave them some rations of food.
"Exselent job son." The boy congratulated the son. Abbiar didn't hear a word of thanks. During the day the mother and father would row occationally but for the most part they would try to stay as still as possibule so not to waste there pressious energy. The boy would show the girl silly magic tricks that Abbair stared at half mindedly. His body was so tierd all he could do was lie there and save his energy.
That night they began again. Blood pounding, The battle rageing once again. It went on for days. Abbair couldn't remeber when they had started. The only thing that reminded him it had been going on for so long was the blisters that had been forming each night on his palms.
To be exact they had been moving at a constant pace for forteen days.