Miles Conway would have been the type of child who would have gotten picked on in school, except now there is no such thing as a primary school, or elementary school, for seven year olds.
If Miles was walking down the road towards you, it would be a funny site because he was a mixture between a typical seven year old, and something from a horror film.
In his left hand he held a teddy, Mr Jones, who at this stage was missing an eye, an arm and part of his left foot. Mr Jones looked like he desperately needed a hug. Walking beside Mr Jones was Antrim, a four year old Great Dane, which could have been mistaken for a horse standing beside Miles. In the boys right hand, he held a long curved falcatta, a type of Italian sword, where a seven year old got a sword, I fear I may never know. It was a comical site, considering the blade was longer then his arm.
Miles could not remember a whole lot about his father, and he never even knew his mother. Before his dad died he placed a locket around his neck, containing the only remaining photo of his parents, in what appeared to be a care free time. On the opposite side of the locket a small note. On the note the words went something like this:
'Head for the mountains,
Head for the fire,
Miles was on the west side of the mountains base, he knew this because of his compass. He could see no fire, no smoke, nothing. Behind him lay the wasteland. There was nothing but barren space between him and the city. Antrims ears suddenly stood tall. He started barking maniacally, it was a cat. The feline ran straight for the concelled cave entrance, that until that moment, Miles had not seen. The little boy had only one though, have I found it?