The Moonbeam Grammar.

Night time had fully descended over the ancient world of Celestial City. The major giant moon loomed over the horizon. Zero stood in the thin moonlight, gazing at the skyscape. He was only twelve years old, already a survivor of the oppressive regime of all citizens in the lands, living amid the half ruined buildings of a once noble scene. The crumbling home he lived in had just received an all to frequent demolition notice. It was the only home he could ever recall.

Young Zero had been born in what was now called "Foundation Year." That had been the year when something terrible had happened. It had been the first year of the repressive grip of the current ruler, Overlord. This formerly mighty planet and all its ordinary people. The Littles, were run by Enforcer the Sorceror. The tyrant hired his allies, rogue hostile warriors. They prowled around by night and by dwindling sunlight, especially in the chillsome, shadowy dim winter that froze many.

In all that society, where talents were highly valued and exploited for food and comforts, Zero was one boy who had no magical abilities, no skills, no handsome good looks. Nothing, an absolute Zero. He was very skinny, as both his parents were. At this time of the season, all their faces were grey. The only Littles who ever looked plump were spies and soldiers of the Enforcer, who rewarded them with lots of meals.

But his parents were devoted to Zero, and often wondered aloud where these scenes of destruction were leading the future of Celestial City. His mother, Isla, many times sang sad sounding songs as she said goodnight. Her sagas wove a beautiful musical spell, telling tales of her past. Then she and her sisters had played in a fragrant garden, while her parents had sat on the balcony, inhaling the scented wonder of jasmine and honeysuckle. There the adults had drunk mint tea, made by servants. Zero silently wondered if the household servants resented the rich people for making them do their chores.

Currently, Zero and his folks lived in an old structure on the fringes of some very menacing slums, where squatters and homeless Littles clustered. Isla and Zero's father, Alby spent their days trying to grow root vegetables in a patch of dirt behind their home. There was little else to eat. There were no longer many children around. Any surviving kids were all stunted, and very shy, living hidden lives, existing hooked on hunger.

But despite Zero's lack of those vital magical talents so favoured in Celestial City, his father had spent many hours secretly instructing him in the forbidden art of reading. Under the Overload, knowledge for the young Littles was banned. The schoos and eminent colleges were closed, seemingly forever. Vast heavy machines with armed forces on board regularly demolished sites of learning and education. Zero's parents had lost all their ancestral heritage home, and their daily struggle lay in staying alive.

After their evening meal of mashed turnip, very bland, Albo said his ritual, "Off to bed, young Zero. Let's join our hands to wish for freedom for us all."

"Go to bed and get a good night's sleep," Isla added his advice, same as usual.

"Where are we going to live next?" Zero asked, worried about the demolition notice.

"We might have live in one of the Overlord's shelters for poverty people."

Zero went to his room, disillusioned by his parents' acceptance. He stood at his window, peering through the frosty, speckled glass, and wished on the moon to find a way to restore the fun and good times of his mother's youth. He would love to play in a beautiful garden, long gone now. The giant moon stared back to him, unblinking.

Zero felt fresh that night, so he sneaked through his window, and ran like a shadow he might well become. He knew where he was going, to the old Library of Antiquities.

"Might find something there to weave some understanding." he told himself, breathless. "Knowledge is power." That is what Alby had always taught him. Using the underground entrance from an old space underneath, he made it to the shelves of archives, undetected. This was not exactly a peak squatting site for any Littles, as the upstairs roof leaked. The Old Library was also heading for descruction. Too much information there which could damage Enforcer the Sorceror.

Zero sat among the shelves of tattered books, now disrespected by the rogues and spies. Under one pile of book, he discovered an even older edition. He had spotted it the previous night, and hid it silently under his dark, hooded jacket. He could barely see in the mystic moonlight, but made it home in one piece. Climbing through the window, he only looked asleep in his bed when his father checked on him. Quiet filled the home, such as it was. The night streetscape was empty, hushed.

"Found it!" Zero whispered. Even if he was so untalented, he could read really well, even if he sometimes mucked up words and syntax of his sentences. The venerable book he had located had a title, "The Moonbeam Grammar." Zero eagerly turned its pages, straining his eyes in the flickering torchlight. On the second page, a former student had scribbled, "Learn yourself Spelling."

"Wisdom, at last!" Zero was thrilled. Maybe this was a clue to liberation for the Littles. But he had to keep this a secret, even from Alby and Isla. There were spies and danger everywhere.

Meanwhile, the next page of The Moonbeam Grammar had a table of contents, and a heading. "Almanac of Enchantment Spells and Runes."

Suddenly, a siren blared, and dreadfully loud armoured trucks rolled up and down the road in front of his home.. "This is not a warning. Leave your hovels now! You have ten minutes to evacuate. The Overload wants these buildings tonight! Stand at front door ready to be searched."

Zero did panic, so he hurled himself through the open window again, and hit the back alley running. He did not know where, but he had his torch, and his newly found book. He needed time, not endanger his parents by having a banned book.

"Leave them to it, they're adults." He told himself, no turning back in his life ahead. Zero was on the run.