Alen Halfcup Is Considering Running Away.

Alen Halfcup was considering running away. He wouldn’t be gone for long. A day, or two, at the most. He just wanted to see what it was like beyond the Door, the world Outside. And then he would be back.

It was now just after lunch. Alen stood patiently in the shadow of the grocery-side alley, observing the tidy town square. He had been waiting here for the better part of the last hour, and yet intent still lit his bark-brown eyes.

For in the square’s centre, among its sunlit stretches of grey pavestone, stood the Door. It was like a proud monument being paid tribute to by rows of cloud-grey buildings lining the square. Those same double-storied buildings looked a little shorter than the Door and even two of them put together might not measure wider than it.

An Ordinary onlooker might think it led nowhere, just a funny gigantic door in the middle of
When Alen had woken up this morning, the house had been empty. Ten coppers set on the dining table for him. This was not at all unusual, for his uncle was often working. The streets being empty and quiet on his way to the centre of town for breakfast, on the other hand, was another matter.

Entering the bakery with its fragrant baked smell, he had been surprised to see other children there. They who normally ate with their parents were messily munching through loaves of freshly baked bread and pieces of moon-yellow cheese on the wooden chairs and tables.

Alen got the story from chatty Erissa, one of the older nightchildren. According to her, she had been suppering with her parents when a knock on the door called them away. When they returned they said they had sudden business to attend to, for half a day or more. A few hours later, she and the other nightchildren had stood under the moonlight, watching hundreds of the town adults and dozens of familiars parade through the Door on their various riding beasts. Yes, your uncle Seffron was there too, of