The Mandorla Chronicles 1: From One Dawn to Another

==Overview==
==Act List==
*Chapter 0 
** Part I: New Dawn, New Opportunities
** Part II: Immaculate Dusk
==Characters==
;Mandor Family
*Korben Mandor 
* Melantha Thorne
* Vincenzo Marco Mandorla
* Carmen Mandor
;Oswin Family 
*Oswald Winslow
*Mrs. Winslow
*Oswin Winslow
;Goodwill Family
*Mr. and Mrs. Goodwill
*[[Leto Goodwill]
*Anastasia Goodwill
==Chapters==
===Prologue - New Dawn, New Oppurtunities===
(Just imagine the Italian people are talking to each other in Italian lolmao)
"This is the last time we speak about this. You either stay at home, study to become a doctor, and go to school OR you're out of this house!", a middle-aged woman declares. "No, mama! I want to become a chef! Why do you not believe me?!", a boy desperately cries. "Alright then, you're out. Give me your clothes. They're not yours. Your father and I paid for those.", the woman reciprocated in a disappointed tone. Yet, before the boy can comply, he decided to run away, run out of the treacherous four walls that have been imprisoning him for as long as he can remember.
The identity of the adolescent boy who is currently wandering the somber and vacant streets of Manarola is Vigo Mandorla, a boy whose family grew up on the western coastline of the Northern region of Italy. The boy's eyes are unique to himself since they don a pink hue, not because Vigo possesses a peculiar "power", however, it is a result of the boy's ocular albinism. Unlike his parents, he was a loving and caring person, an aspiring chef, and was gifted in culinary knowledge and practice, the trinity of traits that were transmitted to him by his late grandparents; however, he wasn’t the brightest. His tenderness and ambitions were not enough for his overbearing parents who wanted him to have a greater occupation in the field of medicine.
Due to his aspirations, he focused more on cooking and baking than school, which he considers an "academic prison", therefore he ended up failing eleventh grade which sparked outrage from his parents, thus leading him to get kicked out of the house permanently when he was just 17 in 1893. He had nowhere to go, the only distant relatives he knew were deceased or overseas, besides, he doesn't know anyone around due to his parents not letting him outside the house, and the time being 2 AM alongside his social ineptitude and fear of rejection does not help his situation whatsoever.
However, merely 20 minutes after his despairful eviction, he was able to find a silver lining, a ship anchored at the pier. Perhaps he could use this as a means of refuge, finally, an opportunity to start anew. He ran as quickly as possible to wear the ship was located where he encountered two men, what looked to be the captain and a lower-ranked seafarer. Now, all he has to do is request to go with them, that's all. "H-h-h-hello, s-s-sir! Can I please g-go with you??", Mandorla asked politely. "*sigh* This ain't a cruise, kid. We're just 'ere to bring suffering Americanos from their plummeting economy.", the captain replied. It seems as if they are going to the United States, it's quite serendipitous for Vigo since he is bilingual thanks to his grandparents. "P-p-please, I have nowhere to go! I'll just exit the ship when we arrive!", Mandorla pleaded. As he was about to refute, the seafarer whispered something into the captain's ear as if he was providing a suggestion, and as soon as they finished their short confidential conversation, the captain asked the boy to "satisfy his end of the deal" through monetary means. Vigo was taken aback by this request but after a frantic examination of his pockets, he struck gold, he found leftover change of 10 lira. Despite, the sailing pair considering the money to be worthless to them, they still decide to bring the boy on board since they had no time to argue with him.
While the ship sails, he can't help but admire the beauty of the Atlantic Ocean, its magnificent blue color seemed to span infinitely, all the while contrasting with the colorful velvet cloak above it, this scenery was something that he could only see through the window of his school and home, therefore he was grateful for this first-time experience. The volatility of the ocean waves may have seemed scary for some, especially on this windy day, yet for Vigo, it was a mirthful time, due to the movement of the ship being akin to an amusement park ride, the ones his friends always told him about at school.
As he was still admiring the maritime landscape, he noticed that the rocking of the ship ceased and the seafarers declaring that “they're here", this must be his destination. As a flood of people entered the ship, he was ordered by the captain to depart from the ship as quickly as possible, and so he did. Luckily, he ended up in a well-known region of the United States, New York. What he decided to do was go to each residence and knock on their door until a family decides to take him in.
"Sorry, no.", "I already have children I don't need a new one!", "I don't want kids.", “You’re old enough you should be able to take care of yourself!” among others were all responses he received after two consecutive days of attempting to find a new family or even a place to stay at. As soon as he felt like he hit a brick wall and was ready to no longer waste his breath, he decided to make one final attempt, the 46th one to be exact, and little did he know that this was the one that will have changed the course of his life. He knocked on the rustic wooden door of the home, as usual, and was met with the ear-piercing sound of the door knob being turned followed by the blaring creaking of the door itself as it was being opened ajar, there stood an emaciating elderly lady with a cane in her hand staring back at him.
He was reluctant to ask her if he could be taken in by her due to her unhealthy physique, yet he asked the same question as he did with the other residents. The lady, in a slow-paced whisper, replied "Sonny, there's a boarding school nearby if you go straight down this path and go to the right, I'm sure you can find it.", Vigo was struck with astonishment by this discovery, yet he was perplexed by it as well due to the fact that it is a school, his personal hell. However, those negative thoughts did not stop him from thanking the elderly lady with a huge grin on his face, which was reciprocated by her own.
He runs and runs down the path he was instructed to and found a small town that ends on the cliffside named New Dawn. “Am I still in New York?”, Vigo thought to himself in confusion. He looked around in order to detect the boarding school but found nothing but several brick houses built adjacent to one another all the while each house is complimented by a path that led to a building located in the center, a town hall; it is as if the latter was the heart pumping blood and sending it to the organs, the houses, in order to form a cohesive organism, the communal town. 
After doing a superficial investigation of his surroundings, Vigo immediately decided to give up, believing he had once again come up against a brick wall and the elderly woman deceived him or was mistaken; therefore he had no choice but to pray, pray that the situation will end in his favor. He kneeled in order to show supplication, put his hands together, made both palms face each other, looked up to God, and recited the first prayers and bible verses that come to mind. While he pled and pled, he noticed a building that he failed to locate during his subpar examination of the town. The building glitzily displayed a sign containing its name as if it was being proudly waved around like a flag, he began reading the sign, and the more he read, the slower his recitation became until it progressively stopped. The name of the building was “New Dawn Boarding School.”, he ran into the building excitedly.
He enters the building and was immediately met with a variety of children playing, ranging from ordinary kids, and physically ill kids, to kids with facial deformities; after scanning the juvenile crowd, he deduced that all of these kids are no older than 10 years old. His train of thought was wrecked by a girl dressed in religious clothing, who looked to be about his age, for interrogation: "Um... hello... Do you want your child to enroll in this school? Are you looking for a job?". "W-w-w-w-w-w-what n-n-n-no I j-j-justa came here to be a student in this school!", replied Vigo. "Oh! You… How old are you uh...", "Mandorla! V-Vigo Mandorla isa my name. A-a-and I'm 16, no w-w-wait 17!", he declared. "Oof sorry! This is an ELEMENTARY school! Only kids below the age of 12 can be accepted… not kids who LOOK 12 like you of course... Bye-bye! Come again! Please leave now!", she responded post-haste. "W-WAIT! Please! I got nowhere to go! Please-a help me!", Vigo pleaded. "*sigh* I mean... we do have an open job in the canteen for a caterer...", she apathetically said.
His eyes shined brighter than the stars of the nocturnal sky, this was a perfect opportunity for him to pursue his hobby as a profession as he always wanted. He zealously accepted the offer and thanked the girl with all of his life before asking for her name, to which she replied with "Melantha Rila LaCroix!, nice to meet ya!"; Vigo, with a surplus of vim and vigor, then rushed to where he assumed the canteen was while the girl followed suit to tell him that he's going the wrong way.
===Chapter I - The Ever-rising Sun===
July 21st officially marks the first day of his new life in the boarding school. Vigo was allowed to work as a caterer during lunchtime. He learned that his new friend, Melantha, was also assigned to work as a teaching assistant. A few of his colleagues in the kitchen approached him with ice-breaking questions, he tried to respond as best he could yet he only ended up fearfully muttering out an incomprehensible sequence of noises as if he was speaking a language that does not exist. They ended up thinking he was a hysteric madman which ended up in them distancing themselves away from him, thus rendering his fear of rejection a self-fulfilling prophecy. As he was moping from his failure of an ice-breaker, he decided to check the menus and recipes of what he was cooking since no one informed him. He read the menu and didn’t recognize a single item, which is par for the course, since he isn’t familiar with American cuisine. All was well until he made the decision to cross-examine the recipes with the ingredients stored in a cabinet placed dead center with the word “LUNCH” inscribed on it as if it played the role of a label, he gently opened the cabinet and was appalled, it was as if he was a witness to a crime scene. What he found was irradiated meat, mashed potatoes sprinkled with mold as if they forgot to throw it out years ago, brown milk he mistook for chocolate milk, and he swore he found a tub of dirt contained within the confines of a glass jar. Was this an elaborate insult to the students? Or is it a prank? “You’ll get used to it.”, said a colleague. “The kids are comin’ now so ya better ready up.”, he ordered. 
As soon as he was taken out of his shocked state by the colleague, Vigo heard a tsunami of children flooding into the cafeteria, it’s cookin’ time. As the students started piling up onto each other, so did the orders. Considering the fact that the number of caterers is small, he tried his best not to feel snowed under and worked through the pressure. It took twenty minutes but the gang managed to complete the orders as if they were shoveling an overwhelming amount of snow from their path. While he was decompressing, Vigo noticed something: a boy, sitting alone, was getting food pelted at him by a much older boy student as if the latter was a catapult. He knew he was too socially anxious to intervene yet he could not allow himself to let others be intimidated, not on his watch. Therefore, he resorted to approaching the assailant and timidly exclaimed “H-h-h-hey don’t do that! You should l-l-learn to love one another like br-brothers and s-s-s-sisters, as Dios intended!”, he knew it was out of character for him to initiate a confrontation, yet that’s the least he could do. The student remained unaffected by Vigo’s speech; hence, he shifted the target of his harassment from the aforementioned to the Italian adolescent. He took a large scoop from his mashed potatoes using a spoon and fired it at our unsuspecting Vigo, it was a direct hit to the face. 
His eyes were covered by the lunch, yet he could still hear the kids at his table, including the perpetrator, laughing at Vigo. He felt a sentiment he’s all too familiar with, the sense of drowning in an inordinate sense of ridicule and humility, which he cannot say he isn’t accustomed to from his previous life across the pond. The grating and patronizing laughs of the children were soon to be canceled out by the shouting of a more empowering voice that Vigo recognized, it was the first person he met when he first arrived in this building, Melantha LaCroix. She confronted the student, whom she addressed as “Mr. Winslow” about the fact that his actions have consequences, that being detention after class. Vigo appreciated her intervention but he wonders why she, a teaching assistant, didn’t decide to step in when he was harassing the lone student, yet he was too afraid to ask her about it. Still, in a stunned state, Melantha compassionately handed him paper towels in order to completely dispose of all the nutrients from his face, he quietly thanked her. “Hey, are you busy this afternoon?”, she asked the boy, to which he reciprocated by tacitly shaking his head from side to side in order to say he was a free agent. Her curious facial expression quickly molded into that of excitement, complemented by a warm ear-to-ear smile.
After going back to his room and vigilantly watching the clock’s arms rotate until they land on previously mentioned time, Vigo dashed as quickly as he could to the room assigned for detention; his profuse eagerness is explained by the fact that he does not want to disappoint his new friend, as Melantha was his first and a broken promise equates to a broken opportunity. As soon as he arrived to the location, he fervidly turned the crude wooden door knob and pushed the door open. He saw Melantha, straight in front of him, sitting in the teacher’s desk to the fore of many insubordinate students, his acquaintance stare back at him with the same sweet smile she presented him, due to its contagion, he couldn’t help but reciprocate one back at her with the addition of a timid wave and a nod. 
As his eyes swayed to the direction of the students, he easily spotted the assailant from the cafeteria, the latter avidly and avoided eye contact with Vigo as if he was a child who was sent to time out by his parents. Vigo ignored him then averted his attention back to Melantha, the two sparked a conversation where everything clicked like two pieces of a puzzle: they had similar backgrounds, primarily their hostile familial environment in addition to their mutual passion for cooking. Their topic of cooking allowed Vigo to segue the conversation into his main concern regarding this institution, which is the inexplicably revolting rubbish that play that ascertain the role of food given to students.
Vigo thoroughly describes his qualms about the cafeteria food as if he was writing a dissertation about it, he states convincing arguments about sanitation and the detrimental health aspects it could cause, he was unknowingly reciting everything his grandparents taught him about the idiosyncrasies of cuisine. Melantha, as He told her to be, was being as good of a listener as needed, this is a critical subject no one has ever reported on it after all, plus she could sense the passion flowing from Vigo during his stutter-filled heavy-accent constructive criticism and she inferred that it would be dastardly to shut him up now.
As Vigo called a halt to his monotonous yet vehement argument, Melantha apathetically commented “What can we do about it?”, her hand was holding her head which donned an ennui-filled expression. He noticed this and felt like he was going to implode due to extreme chagrin therefore, he loudly and rapidly replied with “WE CAN-A GET-A NEW AND HEALTHY INGREDIENTS!!”. Melantha responded with a confused look followed by “In what world do you think THAT’S possible? Are you dense??”. That was enough to hit his once high morale like a train, his colorful and bright rays of zeal have been absorbed by the blackness of his own shame.
The awkward silence was subsequently broken by a students soothing and calm voice that said “Excuse me?”, Vigo, almost startled, looked to his right in order to locate the source of that voice, turns out it was the boy who caused a ruckus in the cafeteria earlier. Unbeknownst to the boy, not only did he break the silence but he broke a pivotal rule of detention that being “no speaking allowed.”. As Melantha attempted to confront him in an irate manner about this act of insubordination, Vigo, who was also uninformed of this rule, had a different idea in mind, therefore he, as silently as a grave, walked to the boy’s desk which perplexed Melantha.
Vigo walked until he reached the front of the student’s desk, he whispered “what do you need?” timidly. “I heard what you were talking about with Ms. LaCroix, I really want to help out! Especially because the food now tastes like dirt…”, the boy enthusiastically said. “Oh, haha! N-nice…!” was the first thing that came to Vigo’s mind as a response. “There is a fruit and vegetable market right next to this school! Lets start there!” the boy declared. It seems as if not all of the aforementioned rays of zeal have been absorbed but some was also reflected. “Oh ok! Thanks that’s really big help!” Vigo said in a burst of energy before noticing that the boy suddenly looked upset. Before Vigo could open his mouth in order to ask “Whats wrong?”, the student answered his unspoken question for him: “I’m sorry for throwing food at you earlier, my friends forced me to do it…”. “I-its okay… no worries haha…” Vigo awkwardly laughed until he noticed that the boy was reaching into his pockets before pulling out a… pendant? The chain looked to be made out of alloyed pink gold which were designed to hold an ornament in the form a four-leaf clover of the same pink color alongside a hint of green. “This is a token of both my apology and my friendship! I found it on this chair and I thought I’d give it to you since it kinda looks like your eyes hehe! Also, what’s your name? Mine is Oswald Winslow!”. “Oh! V-V-Vigo Mandorla! Nice-a to meet you!”