I hate my name.
I hate everything about it.
Reynold Alwyn. Ironic, right? Alwyn means loved by all. It's hilarious. Loved by all?
That couldn't be further from the truth.
"Hey, you! Brat! Get back here!"
Sprinting through the crowd gathered in the town square, I weaved through the legs of any passerby in my way. I looked back and snuck a glance at the butcher chasing after me, magikblade in hand, face flushed and distorted into a grimace. He almost looked like a bull, although thankfully much slower, jogging angrily a few paces behind me. Lifting the sack of—ahem—mischievously gained salted beef over my head with one hand, I flashed him a smirk before stuffing it inside my bag, which only infuriated him further.
'Hahaha! He looks a lot like a tomato, huh? Maybe I should swipe a few of those while I'm at it.'
Scurrying between any opening I found through the gaps in the crowd, I dashed through the marketplace, all the while picking up and pocketing various food items along the way. An apple from this cart, a loaf of bread from another. The small, crumpled bag I was carrying filled up rapidly, almost so full that the fruits of my labor started spilling out, making it a problem to run with it in my arms. Fortunately, the only one who chased after me was that old man the butcher, but he was slowly being pushed farther and farther away from me until his face could not be seen amidst the rolling mass of people. Leaning against the alley wall I found myself in, I let out the breath I was unintentionally holding in.
'Haaah, he's got lungs for an old man. However, I don't think I've even gotten close to being caught in the last couple of months. Thank Sephira they didn't send out the guards.' Being an experienced pickpocket, avoiding people's eyesight became a skill of mine, yet against an Arcane Guard, I could do nothing but be found. The difference between us was too great.
The crowd thickened as I walked closer to the main square, creating a human wall in which everyone was trying to get a view of the celebration occurring today. Men, women, children, everyone pushing against each other in an attempt to peek over the hundreds of heads to view the tall wooden platform in the center of the square. I stopped in my tracks.
'Ah, I forgot about that. The noble inaugural celebration.'
It was spread among the citizens through the papers that the city of Partisian was welcoming a new ruler. Baron Userio has become old and frail, leaving the city in the hands of his son, Victor, the new Baron Userio, who was to be inaugurated today.
The commoners all surrounded the podium where the newly appointed Baron was making his speech. Dressed for the occasion was a pompous brown-haired man, looking to be in his late forties with his clothing not able to hide the fact that he was very, very well fed; his stomach protruded out, stretching the fabric of his silky, purple shirt. Above that, he was dressed in a gray vest with a navy cloak lettered with the insignia of the empire. I'm honestly surprised that a button didn't burst and fly out into the ocean of people.
'So that's why the stalls were unattended. Nobody would expect someone to steal right under the newly appointed Baron's nose.' I stole a glance at the heavily armored guard standing at attention a few feet away from the Baron. Suddenly, his eyes turned to me for a moment, locking with my own, before drifting away and turning back to attention. 'Not that anybody would be able to, anyhow.' I mutter under my breath.
My eyes darkened and the smirk fell from my face as I turned away from the podium and towards my bag of food. What's so good about nobles anyway?
"They're just greedy fools who put their pleasure before everything else," I murmured.
They don't care about the people. A scowl crept up my lips and my brows furrowed, but it vanished as fast as it arrived. "Hey! Where did that kid go!" The voice of the butcher somehow overpowered the crowd as I heard him come nearer and nearer to me, getting through by pushing and shoving anyone in his way. I guess he makes up for his speed with his sheer physicality. 'Whew. Let's get out of here before I do get caught,' I decided.
I ran up against the mass of people crowding the center of the square, pushing against whoever was in front of me, but to no avail. Their bodies clumped together like a pack of sardines, everyone smushed together, trying to get a view of the ceremony. A wall of flesh that I'd either have to climb over or run through like that mad bull behind me. I don't think I'd manage the second, and the first would probably piss off quite a few people, so I need a new plan.
Gripping my bag of stolen food tightly, my gaze moved across the street, searching for any exit I could find to get out of the street before finding a narrow alleyway between two general commercial buildings.
I quickly hid myself in the darkness of the alley. Darkness truly is inviting sometimes. The light from the sun faded to a dim glow as the walls reached up so high I needed to crane my neck to see the top. Sensing something, I ducked into the corner and peered behind the street in search of a tail. Scanning the entire space behind me and having not found anyone, I sighed in relief.
"Haahaahaa.." My shoulders drooped as the tension of the chase left my body, leaving me temporarily weakened. I dragged myself along to wherever the path led, only one thought left in my head.
Home.
The maze of interconnected streets and alleyways can prove daunting for the average person to navigate, yet the labyrinth of pathways is truly a great escape route for me, a resident of these backroads. An 11-year-old kid living off the streets must know at least this much, especially when you're up against the Marked.
Marks. A brand that forms on a person's body on their twelfth birthday, but only to those with adequate potential. Every person has some amount of mana, the magical energy that permeates every living being in all Wivre, but only the children who have enough mana to form a mark attain the brand and become a Marked, gaining the ability to manipulate mana according to their elemental affinity. The kids in the empire, according to the newspaper, have a 5% chance of becoming marked, giving us one of the highest percentages of marked individuals in the surrounding regions.
I'm envious. Why? My mana levels are strikingly low. My mana core is barely able to collect and store any mana at all, so the chances of me gaining a mark are slim to none. I've always felt like it, but the mana hates me. Shaking my head at my misfortune, I slipped through the shadows as I walked home.
Passing by the upper-class housing, I strained my neck to look up at the tops of the three-story buildings surrounding me on both sides. Textured wooden exteriors partnered with solid ironbrick support painted the walls on both sides. Copper gargoyle statues loomed over my head, staring ominously down as the guardians of the skies. My hand reached up toward the rippling clouds overhead.
'I want to reach those skies.'
The thought appeared in my head, but I quickly brushed it off. 'It's impossible for me. I have no chance to develop a mark, not with my mana levels. I just need to scrape enough money for Mother's medicine.' Shaking my head, I faced the road ahead and blended back into the darkness, making my way home.
As the sun continued to set, I continued along the path. The roads became coarser, the buildings became smaller and more sparsely populated, and the slums became more pronounced. The stench of unfiltered sewage and trash that I have become so accustomed to invade my nostrils. I walked past people, young and old, lying in the streets, begging for food, just trying to stay alive for one more day. Nothing changed. Our small two-room shack slowly became more visible among the litany of other homes.
'Finally.'
"Mother, I've arrived," I announced my arrival as I pulled the tarp blocking the entrance of the house, only to be answered with silence. Looking around the shabby interior, all that could be seen in the sparse amount of light were the pots stacked against each other and a moldy loaf of bread sitting on a plate. The candle was snuffed out and there was no sign of movement. I set down my sack of food and again looked around. "Mother?" I asked again, a hint of unease in my voice.
No response.
'Oh no.' A feeling of dread overcame me as I sprinted to her room. Pulling the tarp aside, I was greeted by a horrific sight. Mother was passed out on her bedroll, covered in a mess of her own blood. Her body continued to vibrate as the mana inside her destroyed her own organs. I spotted her medicine container knocked over by the side, completely empty.
"MOTHER!" I screamed, immediately clutching her in my arms and flipping her onto my small back. Please, I need to make it to the healer. 'she's light,' I noticed, 'too light.' Stumbling through the doorframe, I ran as fast as I could through the tarp, nearly tripping over the stolen bag of assorted food in the process. Some of the onlookers stared, some voiced out their concerns, but I could hear none of it at that point. I just needed to keep her alive.
I stumbled on the rocky pathway, having to stop and catch my breath multiple times. 'Damn it, this will take too long.' The priest at the church was only a lumen level marked, but that was enough to completely heal basic wounds and limit the spread and activity of disease, including the one plaguing my mother. Even as much as I hated the church, this priest seemed to be a saint among sinners.
"Please please please please please please!" My breath became ragged, and my legs shook but I did not stop. 'Please let me make it to the healer. Please let me make it to the healer. Please please please! I'll do anything they ask of me as long as they can save Mother.' My vision began blurring as I trudged onwards.
'Nearly there Reynold. Nearly there.' The outline of the church began forming in front of me and the building grew to the size of a small house as I approached the entrance. I struggled up the steps to the double doors but lost my balance and fell headfirst through the doors, taking the fall instead of Mother.
Crack! The doors flew open under the weight of two people and opened up to an arched room with a statue of Sephira sitting in the front, surrounded by a pool of water. Her molded marble exterior with azure gems inlaid into the eyes gave the statue a feeling of ethereal beauty. The reflection of the tinted glass created a picture of a beautiful woman with her eyes closed, draped in white cloth. The roof of the church had a colorful mural of the goddess Sephira blessing the first Emperor. The priest, who was reciting a prayer, turned around with surprise to see who or what had entered the holy place.
"Who are you! What happened?"
"Father, please heal my mother! I'm begging you!" I screamed desperately as I pushed myself back to my feet.
"What?! First, bring her here. Child, what happened."
"I don't know. I got home and found her like this. Please, she has formation disease, and she has been taking medicine for years. Please, Father, heal her." As soon as the words 'formation disease' left my mouth, the priest's eyes softened and he lifted Mother's head off the ground.
"Formation disease? Hmm…I understand. I'll do what I can but be warned, I can only temporarily stop the effects of malformation. Nobody can cure it. You can only pray to Sephira for her guidance and mercy."
'I know.' I inwardly spoke.
We lifted her up onto the table and the father stood over to her side. He pulled his sleeve up and his mark was revealed. A glowing white symbol of the sun was visible on the back of his forearm. His hand extended over Mother's abdomen, and he closed his eyes in concentration. The mark glowed brighter as his arm coalesced the mana, surrounding Mother with a warm, yellow light.
The blood dripping from her mouth began to cease and the cuts and bruises along her arms and legs faded at a rate visible to the naked eye. Sweat trickled down the priest's forehead as he continued to pour his mana into her. 10 minutes passed and eventually, the light faded. Mother lay on the table, deeply asleep.
The priest took a deep breath and then turned to me. His eyes contained sadness as he looked into my eyes. "What's wrong?" I questioned. "I'm afraid that your mother's disease has progressed immensely. She may not wake up, and she will have to be admitted to the proper facilities that can care for her and will provide medicine to keep her alive." The priest's words were definite.
'What? Mother can't wake up?' For a minute, I was lost in thought. The idea of dying always flitted through my mind regarding my mother, but I never imagined that… 'No, she's not dead. I can save her.' My brows furrowed as I looked up at the priest.
"Okay, then I'll do it. How much will it cost?" My brain worked quickly as I tried to calculate how much silver I would need to pay per month.
"One gold royal per month is what they will need to keep your mother alive." The priest delivered another shock to the point that I was speechless. "O-one gold royal? I don't have that kind of money, much less 50 silver royals. I can't pay that!"
"I'm afraid that is what I need to extend her life. It's either that or she will pass away within a month. I'm sorry, but there's nothing else that can be done."
A solemn air swept across the room. Even the goddess' expression instilled on the walls seemed to pity me. Yet they gave me no mercy. I belatedly regained my wits as I bowed. "Please, I'll pay the fee. Please keep my mother alive." My eyes narrowed as my face darkened, unbeknownst to the priest. I have to keep her alive at all costs.