[ LONDON, YEAR – 2006 | FEELS LIKE – 18th CENTURY ]
It was late at night. The streets were deserted.
A cracking thunderstorm gripped the city—
swift, cold winds; a relentless downpour of rain;
and the sky roaring with bolts of fury.
In an orphanage nestled in the hills,
Mrs. Beck, the head caretaker, was quietly arranging books in the library.
She worked late into the stormy night,
sheltered within stone walls that groaned with each rumble from above.
After finishing her work, she made her way back to her room.
But as she strode down the center hallway on the first floor, she stopped.
Something felt off.
A noise.
Barely audible above the pounding rain.
Faint. yet insistent.
She concentrated, shutting out the din of the storm.
It was outside.
A scream?
No. not really.
A cry.
A child's cry.
With no second thoughts, she tore towards the front hall and threw open the front gate.
She stepped into the storm, stretching her ears to try to pinpoint the source of the sound.
It was just beyond the orphanage gate—on the street.
Pushing through the rain and opening the street gate, she caught her breath.
There, helplessly sprawled in the center of the street, drenched,
was a baby—no older than five or six months—bawling its lungs out.
She ran to the child, her heart racing,
and picked up the little basket in shaking hands, holding the baby against her with her arms.
The child gazed up at her.
Brilliant green eyes glared back—so bright, they shone like highly polished emeralds.
"Who could be such a monster. to abandon a baby out here in this storm?" she breathed, appalled.
She turned to head back to the orphanage when a noise came suddenly from behind her.
Clang—Clang.
The top of the nearby dustbin clapped onto its rim, opened by the wind.
"Oh no, the bin will be full of water," she grumbled.
She moved towards it to close the lid--
but curiosity prompted her to look inside.
And what she found made her scream.
Another child.
A baby, perhaps three or four months old, half-submerged in the rainwater that had filled the bin.
He wasn't crying.
He wasn't even moving much.
So still, he seemed to be sleeping—in that ghastly pit of mire and water.
Then his eyes opened.
Diamond-like, blue, shining eyes looked up at her, calm and unblinking.
She screamed and awakened the orphanage from its slumber.
Caretakers flew down in fright.
By the time they reached the door, Mrs. Beck was already within—
two baskets nestled in her arms, dripping wet.
"Doctor, help! Hurry!"
Panic was set loose. The sight of two babies in that state spurred everyone to action.
Others ran for a doctor, others got ready with emergency equipment.
That night, all the people in the orphanage slept not.
By morning, the two babies were pronounced safe. They had lived.
A great relief sigh swept through every heart in the building.
Only then did they really look at the children.
Pale, silent, eerily calm—
Both were in good health despite what they had been through.
The only variance between them?
Their eyes.
One blazed blue as sapphire.
The other green like jade.
"What a miracle that both of them lived," somebody breathed.
"Who could do such a dirty thing?" another person said. "What sort of monster would do this to them?"
"What do we name them, ma'am?" a caretaker asked Mrs. Beck.
Mrs. Beck gazed at the two babies and spoke softly,
"Until we find out more, they're with the orphanage now.
So we'll give them names."
She smiled and touched the blue-eyed child.
"This one. will be named Sapphire."
Then to the green-eyed one.
"And this one. Jade."
14 YEARS LATER,
Green hills orphanage,
[ LONDON, YEAR- 2020, FEEL'S LIKE - 18th century ],
Among the infamous children in the classroom, There was a boy sitting quietly looking out the window at the weather with his blue eyes.
"Oh, I'm so loving this weather!"
"The sky is loaded with black, huge clouds. Strong waves of wind blow by and cause shallow drops of rain.
It's the perfect day to own the window seat in class."
From where I am, I can see the entire orphanage campus.
As Sapphire sat still at his desk, the wind swept through the open windows, stroking his hair with ghost fingers. Outside, the sky was a foreboding slab of grey, the sort that threatened rain any moment now. He enjoyed this kind of weather. It quieted him. While the rest of the class went ragtag—skipping around, doodling rubbish on the blackboard, trading snacks in the back—Sapphire gazed out the window, absorbed in his thoughts.
And then the sound of footsteps came from down the hallway.
The room was quiet.
Chairs creaked as the children rushed into their seats. Voices fell to whispers and then silence.
Mrs. Martha entered, her heels tapping lightly on the floor. She glanced around, nodded, and put down her leather briefcase on the desk.
"Good morning, class," she said, pulling out the attendance register.
"Good morning, ma'am," they responded in chorus.
She opened the register and started to call out names.
"Amber."
"Here, ma'am."
"Brian."
"Present."
"Christ."
"Here."
The roll continued, and Sapphire stayed glued to the windowpane as the rain started to patter softly against it. The air in the room had a scent of wet earth and chalk.
"Iris."
"Present, ma'am."
"Jade."
Silence.
"Jade?"
Still nothing.
Mrs. Martha sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, not again…"
"Sapphire."
"Ah—yes, ma'am." He blinked and sat up straight, shaking himself out of his trance.
She shot him a piercing glance. "Do you have any idea where your brother is?"
Sapphire shook his head. "No, ma'am."
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't lie, kid. You always do. Go locate him."
Her voice brooked no dispute.
Sapphire let out a deep breath and got up, drifting out of the classroom as she resumed taking roll.
He strode down the corridor, the walls ringing with the faraway patter of rain and the muted hum of wind outside. As he approached the door to the school grounds, a blast of cold wind hit his face.
Great. Just great.
Jade. That idiot. Always vanishing. Always doing whatever he wants. I'm so sick of cleaning up after him.
They weren't brothers. Not biologically, anyway. But everyone at the orphanage referred to them as such.
But in all honesty, they were opposites.
Jade was wild, boisterous, fearless.
Sapphire liked quiet. Reading. Thinking.
As Sapphire went outside, something caught his attention.
Up high—on the tilted roof of the classroom building.
No. Absolutely not.
There he was.
"JADE!" Sapphire bellowed, his voice cutting through the air. "What are you doing up there?!"
Jade was perilously close to the edge, arms out, head thrown back to the sky as if he were attempting to catch the wind. His shirt flew behind him. His smile was large, feral.
He heard his name called and turned. "Saaaaph! You've got to see this! The view's incredible! The wind's like—WHOOSH!" He laughed, turning partway, arms out.
Other children had gathered at the windows by now, gasping and pointing.
Sapphire gritted his teeth. "This complete idiot…" he growled under his breath.
Then, out of the blue—a wild cat darted across the roof, its claws scrabbling on the metal tiles. It rushed at Jade, attempting to reach another ledge—but slipped.with a thunderclap sound. During the confusion, it bumped into Jade.
Jade's foot slipped.
His arms thrashed around.
Gasp filled the air.
Sapphire's heart came to an abrupt stop.
For an instant, he seemed to be going to go over—but Jade grasped a swinging wire just in time. It swayed precariously as he clung to it, legs hanging off the side, but he was able to hoist himself back onto the roof.
Then, as if nothing at all had been out of the ordinary, he faced back towards the amazed crowd below and waved.
"Seeeeee! I'm fiiiiine!" he shouted, laughing again, that same carefree smile plastered on his face.
From inside the classroom, Mrs. Martha stared at him through the window, deadpan.
She sighed. "He really is a dumbass."