The early morning chill in the Valdorán capital spared no one sleeping on the ground. Lucian opened his eyes with a start, shivering on his straw mattress inside the abandoned shed. His thoughts felt clouded and heavy, a common consequence of the chronic hunger that sometimes caused him to experience brief flashes of dizziness and distortions of reality. The first thing that struck his senses wasn't the painful prick of his freshly bandaged leg, but a scent he thought he'd dreamt: fresh milk and baked bread.
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He sat up quickly. There, on a clean wooden box, lay a clay bowl of milk, a thick piece of bread, and a handful of copper coins that glittered in the morning light.
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"Again..." Lucian muttered, running a hand over his dirty face. "Who on earth is this person who's always helping me? I haven't even been able to see her once to thank her for everything she does for me."
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As much as the boy had tried to stay awake at night to hunt down his benefactor, the accumulated exhaustion and his body's physical weakness always ended up overcoming him, plunging him into a deep lethargy. The mysterious protector seemed to know his schedule perfectly. Lucian sighed, but a bitter smile touched his lips; thanks to this daily miracle, he had managed to survive the squalor of the capital.
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"Well, as long as he keeps helping me and isn't a bad person, I'm not going to complain," he said to himself.
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He sat down on the ground, crossing his legs on the straw. He grabbed the thick piece of bread with one hand and the bowl of milk with the other, beginning to eat slowly to make the food last. As he chewed, his gaze automatically shifted across the broken wooden beams of the shed, fixing itself on a fixed point in the landscape outside. Every time he managed to get something to eat, Lucian did the same thing: sit in silence and fix his gaze on a distant object, as if his mind were trying to escape reality and find an answer in the void.
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After finishing, he gathered the coins. Weighing them in his hand, he felt they would be enough to last him a few more days.
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"Time to get to work," he told himself, even though the word "work" sounded like a joke in his situation.
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Lucian was fourteen years old, but chronic malnutrition and his short stature made him look like a helpless child of barely nine. If the people of the kingdom knew his true age, things would be different, but his weakened body was the price he paid on the streets. In return, nature had blessed him with extraordinary gifts: prodigious speed and a brilliant mind capable of memorizing an entire page with just a glance and performing calculations in fractions of a second with a simple blink.
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“I’m not going to get into trouble today,” he promised himself as he stuffed the coins into his threadbare clothes. “I’ll find something decent to do at the market; maybe some merchant needs a quick helper to keep track of sacks.”
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---
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The capital’s central market was a hive of activity, teeming with carts, merchants, and hawkers. Lucian walked stealthily, looking for a chance to earn a living. He was so engrossed in scanning the stalls that he didn’t see the iron bundle coming.
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***THUMP!***
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Lucian crashed head-on into a gleaming suit of armor and fell backward onto the icy ground.
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“Look here, you little brat! Watch where you’re going!” roared a hoarse, authoritative voice.
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When he looked up, Lucian’s heart stopped. It was none other than the Captain of the Guard, the one in charge of patrolling the kingdom. The officer was a man obsessed with discipline and the strict enforcement of colonial laws; for him, any disorder in his streets was a personal stain on his reputation. Brushing the dust off his breastplate, he fixed his gaze on the boy. There was a second of deathly silence as their faces recognized each other.
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"If it isn't... the sewer rat," a cold smile spread across the Captain's face. "Finally, you've disturbed the peace in my sector. This time you won't get away."
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"Hey, Captain, this time I didn't mean to do anything wrong!" Lucian exclaimed, crawling back on all fours.
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"Catch him!" the officer roared, drawing his wooden club. "No delinquent makes a fool of my patrol!"
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The market square erupted into chaos in an instant. Lucian used his legs to propel himself forward and leaped over a pile of grain sacks. The chase was a whirlwind of agility: the boy slipped between a butcher's legs, knocked over a basket of apples to slow the lumbering guards, and slithered beneath a moving cart like a shadow. The officers, hampered by their clanking armor, bumped into each other as Lucian outpaced them through the narrowest alleyways, finally disappearing from sight in a recess beneath an old stone staircase.
The Captain arrived at the alley panting, his face red with fury at seeing his impeccable record of captures challenged by a child. He slammed his fist against the wall.
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"Damn it! Report to the High Council immediately that the sewer rat has evaded the security cordon again!" he ordered one of his subordinates.
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---
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At the royal palace, the High Council was in a meeting of great importance. The most powerful men in the kingdom were discussing tributes and provincial affairs when the heavy doors to the chamber burst open. A guard rushed in, pale and trembling with fear of interrupting the nobles.
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"Excuse me, my lords! Excuse me, High Council!" the soldier shouted, falling to his knees, his voice trembling. "I have urgent news about the sewer rat. We saw him again at the market!"
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The first councilor, one of the youngest and most arrogant in the chamber, immediately stood up, slamming a scroll on the table.
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"You dared interrupt a session of the High Council over a beggar?" the nobleman hissed with profound disdain. "Do you think our time is worth the same as yours? We are discussing matters of great importance to the kingdom!"
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"Forgive me, my lord!" the guard managed to say, bowing his head.
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A second councilor, middle-aged and more pragmatic, intervened with a sigh of annoyance, looking at his colleagues:
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"That street urchin again? All this fuss over a minor nuisance? It seems to me an absolute waste of the Royal Guard's men and resources on a dying orphan. We should ignore him; winter will take care of him."
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“It’s not that simple, Councilor,” replied a third member of the Council, crossing his arms in concern. “The Captain reports that this boy easily slips through the security lines. If the town sees a malnourished child mocking authority, we’ll lose the respect of the business districts.”
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“That’s unacceptable!” interrupted the Senior Councilor from the head of the table, instantly halting the debate. The vein in his forehead bulged, and his voice cracked like a whip. “I demand the immediate dismissal of those responsible for that sector! Are you telling me that an entire patrol is going to let a mere starving wretch escape?!”
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“Well… he moves with a speed that confuses men in the alleyways, my lord,” the soldier explained desperately.
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“That’s incompetence!” roared the Senior Councilor. “I will report this to the King of Valdorán himself.” That vermin must be stopped now. If the direct order was to give him no work anywhere in the kingdom so he'd die in the mud, how is he still alive? Tell your Captain to mobilize every available man. I want a thorough search of every corner. I won't accept any more excuses: this time we want him in jail. And now get out of here!
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The guard hurried away, closing the gates with a dull thud. At the table, the youngest councilman looked at the leader with obvious bewilderment.
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"Senior Councilman... I still don't understand why you have such a personal interest in a mere orphan."
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The Senior Councilman straightened his fine robes, trying to regain his composure, though hatred gnawed at his features.
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"That boy humiliated me in front of the wrong people in the past," he whispered through gritted teeth. "It won't happen again. I won't tolerate that stain walking my streets anymore."
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Forcing a hypocritical smile, he glanced at the rest of the table to ease the tension.
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"But we're all here to support each other for our mutual benefit, right? We all like profit. As long as we look after our own interests, no one can do anything to us. So everyone's happy."
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Most of those present burst into knowing laughter, pleased by the shared corruption. However, at one end of the table, a couple of council members maintained a tense silence, smiling only out of obligatory politeness.
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As glasses clinked, in the darkest part of the room, hidden among the dense shadows of a stone column, a figure stood completely motionless. No one at the table noticed its presence. The figure watched the toast with a disdainful sneer. Suddenly, a faint ray of light filtering through the tall windows struck the side of her face, revealing only a sliver of her ear, where a gold earring gleamed in the dimness before disappearing once more into absolute darkness.
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"I hope the boy grows up quickly..." the silhouette whispered to itself, its voice so low it was lost in the echo of laughter. "Hold on a little longer, so this place will begin to tremble beneath your feet..."
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Without making the slightest sound, the silhouette turned and left the room, vanishing into the darkness.
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--
Meanwhile, in the market alley, Lucian remained crouched in his hiding place, holding his breath. Nearly forty minutes had passed. His legs were completely numb, and the pain from the previous day's wound was throbbing, causing beads of cold sweat to form. Outside, the guards had finally given up.
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"He's not here anymore. The trail went cold. Let's search the other street," he heard one of the officers say before his footsteps faded away.
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Lucian waited a few more moments, and as he tried to stretch his legs to ease the cramp, a freight cart sped past, skimming past his hiding place.
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***CRACK!***
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The wheel crushed his little toe. The boy stifled a cry of pain, clenching his teeth until he tasted the metallic tang of his fasting in his mouth. As he crawled out, limping and covered in dust, he felt the weight of the world's rejection. Passersby stared at him with disgust, mocking his appearance. No one wanted anything to do with him.
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Walking with difficulty along one of the commercial avenues, Lucian passed by an old woman's vegetable stall. Seeing him so battered, she called to him softly.
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"Boy... come here, please. I need you to run an errand for me quickly. Go get this sack from the other end of the street and bring it here. If you do, I'll give you a coin."
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Before Lucian could reply, a neighboring merchant shouted at the old woman from his stall with contempt:
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"Good heavens, old woman, are you crazy! How can you hire that guy? Look how thin he is, and he smells like the devil. That scum will steal your merchandise."
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The old woman turned sternly and confronted the merchant:
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"Shut your mouth! Just because we're helping him behind the guards' backs doesn't mean you should treat him like a dog. If it were your own son starving in the street, would you look at him the same way? These are different things. We must have compassion in this world."
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The woman turned to Lucian and gave him the instructions. Moved by gratitude and using his prodigious speed, the boy went to carry out the task. Half an hour later, Lucian returned panting from the strain of his injured finger, but with the errand perfectly completed, carefully placing it back in its place.
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The old woman smiled tenderly and, instead of what they had agreed upon, placed two copper coins in his palm, exactly the same design and mint that always mysteriously appeared in her shed every morning.
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"Here, son." With these two coins, you'll be able to survive a few more days and buy yourself some food.
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Lucian looked at the coins, touched, recognizing the engraving immediately.
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"Thank you so much, ma'am... Truly, no one in this kingdom is as kind as you, apart from the kings in old stories," the boy said, lowering his gaze.
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The old woman studied him closely, noticing how the boy avoided eye contact and how he kept his eyes averted from the palace's towering spires.
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"You want to leave here, don't you?" the woman asked softly. "It's obvious from how you avoid looking at this mud and how you seek refuge on the exit routes. You want to explore new kingdoms beyond these walls."
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Lucian's eyes widened, realizing the keenness of her observations. Startled and intrigued, he asked:
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"How... how do you know that?" "Do you read minds, or do you know everything I'm thinking?"
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"I know how to observe, young man. I've lived quite a while," the old woman replied with a wise smile. "Those eyes of yours... when you stare intently at something, they betray that your mind is clearing, wandering elsewhere, thinking about different things. I can tell you don't want to be in the capital and that you long to explore; your own steps lead you to the city's outskirts whenever you can. All I can tell you is that great things are coming your way, Lucian. Just be patient... good things always happen to those who wait."
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Upon hearing those words, Lucian froze completely. A mixture of fear and intrigue ran down his spine; he didn't know what to do or how to organize his thoughts in the face of such a profound revelation from a stranger. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable and with the mystery swirling in his mind, he thought to himself that the best thing to do was to get away from there immediately. He didn't know if the old woman was an ally or a hidden danger, so he preferred not to take any chances.
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"Thank you for everything, ma'am," he managed to say timidly.
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---
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Night fell once more over the capital. Despite the massive deployment ordered by the Mayor, Lucian managed to evade the main patrols by using the blind spots in the suburbs and the underground drainage channels that only the orphans knew intimately. He headed to a secluded drain to wash off the grime that had accumulated during the day.
As he bathed in the cold water, washing away the grime, his mind continued to replay everything that had happened. He couldn't stop thinking about the old woman's words, nor the strange coincidence of the coins. How did she know he stared at things when his mind cleared? Why were the coins from his payment identical to those of his anonymous benefactor?
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After finishing his bath and dressing in his threadbare clothes, Lucian walked stealthily back to his refuge, dodging the last torches of the guard patrolling the main avenues. The cold water had soothed the pain of his stepped toe and eased the tension of the chase.
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"That'll have to wait... I'll go back and ask her," he told himself, trying to quell the doubts gnawing at his mind. "For now, I'll go to bed and rest. At least we have enough money to survive a few more days."
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Lucian lay down on his straw mattress, wrapping himself up against the cold of the medieval night. He clenched the coins in his fist and closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep as the mystery of Valdorán's capital still hovered above him in the silence of the darkness.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB6xIpC2VP5
and then Add to home screen.