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“I will not permit you to speak of your father that way! As if he worries about his position more than you! You know he is only doing this because you’re his living image. Gosh, for the name of Saint Patrick boy, even a near blind old man can tell you are Master Claremont’s son.” Alan straightened up his glasses and had one good look at Joaquin.

Blonde hair of the lightest shade, oceanic blue eyes with a handsome face, and wearing a crimson jacket with a black undershirt and matching black pants. Staring down at Alan was the miniature model of Lord Claremont, Joaquin Claremont.

“Now go wash you’re hands. Dinner is about ready.” Alan turned to the kitchen, to chop some carrots when the door of the living room slammed open, revealing a snow covered shape.

“Anderson?” asked Alan in shock. Joaquin remembered that Gale had been able to escape Nikola by fooling him and faking finding a treasure in the bottom of hole. Well this was neither a hole nor treasure, but it was the perfect opportunity for sure, so he ran for it. He passed Alan who was helping the broken Anderson into the house.

There was a loud slam behind and the door closed. Taking not a minute to think, he ran for it. Most of the streets were covered in snow; it was impossible to tell the sidewalk from the once vivid green grass in the lawns of the neighboring houses. Once more he couldn’t help but think that Gale and he were more alike than he wanted them to be; both were outsiders to society and were yearning for fun!

Several other kids were building a snowman. Using his ability with words, he introduced himself as the son of a traveling merchant, Sol.

“Me and my Pa used to lived in Sunderland with me Ma, but she was killed by a mass murderer named Saga. Ya hear of him?”

Several of the kids questioned him about the identity of the murder, if he missed his mother, and just what did his father sell. For once he wad thanking his father for making him read the rather boring novel, Underworld Zero. As much the inspiration for his lies came from the book he read. Soon he gained their trust, and after a full day of building snowmen, making snow angels on the ground, and playing snowball fights, Joaquin thought of returning home.

On his way back home he passed by Dr. Braddock’s house. Everything would have been normal except for a radiant light coming from his garden. Joaquin turned to see if there was any place he could look to see what was causing the radiant light. After turning a corner, he saw it, a wooden plank with several cracks in it. He slowly pushed the wood until it gave in and allowed passage into a dark area of the Dr. Braddock’s garden.

Nothing in his years of formal education had prepared him for what he saw; a golden rose among a withered field of roses, all dry and dead, besides this one.

“I just can’t comprehend what went wrong…too much sulfur? No, impossible I measure the sulfuric doses three times…then could it have been that unknown element I tried to duplicate?” Dr. Braddock came into view. Joaquin hid his head and remained silent. He wanted to hear more of what Braddock was saying.