Sister Lilian couldn't help the limp boy down the flight of stairs. She let him lie on the floor by the trapdoor; it was as far as she could take him without wilting under his weight. Nathaniel was almost her height and presumably troubled and weary.

The curious boys had peered from the trapdoor then. They had come out of their dorms, creating a great ruckus.

One of the older boys had just sputtered a crafted story of a monster on a moonless night to scare the younger ones.

And scare them it did.

The noises that came out of the attic later that night only frightened the younger ones more. Their minds were even more agitated after Sister Lilian, wo went to inspect the attic on the boy's behalf was heard crying out.

"Go get Maurice. Hurry!" She hadyelled at them. Just then another nun had come to inspect the ruckus.

"Sister Maria! Take them to their dorms." Sister Lillian pleaded, her voice wavering with concern.

The young sister nodded and ushered the young boys away, like one handles a flock of sheep. "You heard Sister Lilian! Off you go! Say grace and go straight to your beds."

Sister Lillian stepped down the trapdoor, keeping her eyes on Nathaniel who lay by the trapdoor, curled into a ball, by Sister Lilian's side, like a shriveled stray pup. Not long after, a man came to help the nun carry the boy down the stairs, out of the attic.

Sister Lilian's trembling orders were heard, and Maurice, the manor's east wing caretaker immediately went to lift the boy off the attic floor. The boy stiffened as two arms slipped underneath him, but he was too weary to fight back.

Maurice took careful steps as they climbed down, with Sister Lilian praying behind. Nathaniel's eyes squeezed shut against the light.

The boy's mischievous arrival had awoken the entire Manor at the ungodly hour of night. Nuns ran about in their white veils and night gowns, ushering off curious children back to their dormitories. The manor's nurse was awakened with urgent news of assistance and the cook was given a vague one to prepare a warm meal for a sickly child.

The infirmary was a candle-lit chamber with two rows of beds of three against stone walls, covered in white linen. As soon as Maurice laid the boy on one of the beds, Sister Lilian closed the door to avoid the prying eyes of the young boys. The nurse came running, as soon as she heard the news. The untimely call meant she didn't have much time to change into her formal gown. They drenched a cloth in warm water and washed the boy clean before dressing him in a clean dress.

The nursed moved about efficiently, tending the boy, without asking any questions from Sister Lilian, Maurice or the boy who was half asleep and half awake. Neither of them had answers, nevertheless questions were reserved for later.

***

Nathaniel awoke in a dimly lit chamber of stone walls, dressed in a clean white dress. His body felt lighter as he consciously took a breath and processed his surroundings.

The golden light from the morning sun was streaming through the white curtains from the large arced window in the far corner of the room. Candles from the night before melted and snuffed.

He recalled his memories from earlier. He had been carried into the infirmary. Where he was inspected by a nurse. Sister Lilian had taken a sharp intake of breath when the nurse had lifted off his bloodied vest and unbuttoned is shirt. Bluish and red gashes ran across his torso and arms.

Both the nuns had started praying then. A prayer that resembled gratitude and penance. Once the boy was dressed they let him chug down warm broth the cook had just heated up. Only after the warmth of the broth had settled in, had he drifted to sleep.

Nathaniel tentatively sat up straight and swung his feet off the bed, wiggling his toes. The strange feeling of unfamiliarity unshaken. His hand went to clutch a fistful of his cotton dress, his skin itchy beneath from the ointment the nuns had used to tend his bruises and wounds.

The sound of footsteps clapping against stone startled him.

"Sister Maria, I told you not to leave the boy alone." A voice came. Nathaniel recognized it to be the nun who had found him.

"He stirred in his sleep." A new voice sounded. "He was uttering gibberish. Terrified by a nightmare perhaps."

The footsteps had reached him then, Sister Lilian stormed in with another nun trailing behind. She gently pushed in through the door and entered the quiet infirmary. The sight of Nathaniel sitting in his bed, made her release a sigh of relief. No one knew what trouble the boy has been through or what trouble he brings. It was best to keep an eye on him.

"Nathaniel." Sister Lilian approached him with a smile to which Nathaniel showed no response but swallowed, seemingly confused, that has not changed just yet but his face had gotten a little bit of color. A sign of good circulation of blood. The cook's chicken liver broth was given to him in assurance of it.

His sandy hair which had appeared dark, dusty and unkempt sat neatly on his head, gleaming with streaks of golden under the sunlight. She went over to him and gently patted his head. "Rest well child."

Nathaniel opened his mouth and closed it again. His mind trying to piece together the words he wanted to say out loud. The questions that had been tormenting him.

Sister Lilian held him by his shoulder, looking into his eyes. The were the same innocent eyes of an babe that gleamed at her years ago.

He was merely a weaning infant when he was taken into the care of the sisters at the Manor of Wahlburg. An institution for children, found the wealthy Duke Walburg who had opened his home to the homeless children. Duke Walburg had no heirs of his own so he had left his fortune to the church and the children upon his death founding the great Walburg institute. The Children of Hope.

Several years ago as a newly anointed nun in the congregation, Sister Lillian was given a certain period of time to visit her family before she devoted the rest of her life to God.

On her journey back to the Manor where she was working as a helping sister and tutor, she had stopped by a quaint chapel in the small village of Hartford.

It would have appeared to be abandoned if it wasn't for the lit candles. Prayer services were conducted by one friar with barely any participants.

The village had been stricken with poverty. The people had turned away from god and had fleed to the capitol after whatever form was work was available to support their lives.

Sister Lilian had been the only participant that evening. She was the first in ages as the friar had claimed. 

Their prayer service had been interrupted by loud cries of a child that day.

Someone had left a baby in a basket, by the chapel's doorsteps. The little thing was thrashing his arms and legs about, his little round face flinching and red. Only when the young sister had gathered him up in her arms and rocked him had he stop crying.

A small piece of parchment was left in the basket it was a note that read:

"In God's gift of life, lies His care."

Sister Lilian had crushed it in her hand and thrown it aside. She had to retrain herself from cursing the cruel parents who abandoned their child. But cursing was not the way of God and she knew nothing about the parents. They might as well have done a great favor to the child by not raising him in a poor household.

It surely was the baby's luck a sister from a distant Manor was in the lonely church that day. That day she took the Baby with her to the Manor of Walburg.

The elder nuns had shot her with cold stares when she had entered with a child in her arms. After explaining the ordeal and after her virtuousness was proved with the testimonials of the Friar, She was permitted to care for the child. Shortly he was baptized as Nathaniel for he was indeed one of God's gifts.

Fifteen years later there he was, troubled and grown, yet alive. Five weeks had past since he disappeared from the Manor. It was not uncommon for children in the orphanage to runaway seeking freedom from religious strains. Whatever happened, whatever took him away had returned him back to his home, alive. Sister Lilian knew it was important that he was alive. Not only because she cared for him but what he means for the world as a whole. He was about to know.

"Nathaniel, Do you know where you are?" Sister Lilian asked him. Nathaniel shook his head and gulped, casting his eyes away from the Sister.

"You are home."