Adrian's gaze wandered across the dimly lit room, his young eyes observing more than any child should. The walls, stained with the passage of time, echoed with the coarse laughter of the burly man and the hollow words of the women who called this place work.
"Get this kid out of here!" the man barked, his voice a thunderous boom over the moans and sighs.
Adrian's thoughts raced, a silent storm brewing within. 'You think I wanna be here? I can't do anything about it,' he seethed internally, a frown creasing his infant brow.
The daily debauchery unfolded before him, a twisted performance by those who seemed to have forgotten the innocence of the child in their midst.
"We have to watch over him while his mother is out," one of the women, draped in a dress too weary for her years, spoke up, her voice a mix of resignation and duty.
"What is Melissa doing outside?" the burly man grunted, pausing in his exertions.
"She's scouring the city for a decent place that'll take this kid," she replied, her eyes avoiding Adrian's curious stare.
"There's a sea of orphanages out there. She doesn't need to be doing all this," the man argued, his actions unceasing.
"She's searching for a haven where the kid will be cherished, maybe even adopted by a family of means," the woman countered, her tone softening at the thought.
"I pegged Melissa as the type to discard him without a second glance. Seems maternal instincts aren't a myth after all," the man mused, a rare moment of reflection crossing his rugged features.
"That's all well and good, but ain't this spectacle harmful to the lad? Witnessing such acts, especially involving his own kin," he pondered aloud, concern briefly flickering in his eyes.
"Ain't none of my business. Besides, he's unlikely to remember any of this. Do you recall anything from your infancy?" she shrugged, dismissing the notion with a wave of her hand.
"That's true," the man conceded, his voice curt, signaling the end of the conversation.
Exhaustion finally claimed the man, his movements slowing to a halt.
"That'll be two silver," the woman declared, her hand outstretched.
With a careless flick, the man tossed a pair of silver coins her way, their clink a familiar sound in the sordid symphony of the brothel.
Adrian, though but a babe, held a mind far beyond his years. He pondered the currency system, deducing the value of silver and bronze, and the elusive gold he had yet to lay eyes upon. His calculations were rough estimates, but they provided a glimpse into the economy of this strange new world.
A silver was worth a 100 bronze and a gold worth a 100 silver, a silver had the buying power of approximately $10 that meant a bronze was worth $0.10 and a gold worth approximately $1000
Brittanica, the kingdom he found himself in, was a land where English was spoken, and magic thrived alongside swordsmen and knights who wielded aura. It was a world ripe with potential for those with power, and Adrian yearned to grasp it.
For three months, he had attempted to meditate, seeking the elusive spark of magic within. Yet, nothing stirred. Without knowledge or guidance, his efforts were shots in the dark, but he persisted, hoping clarity of mind would pave the way to arcane mastery.
The squalor of his current abode weighed heavily on him, and the prospect of the orphanage seemed a paradise in comparison. Malnutrition had stunted his physical development, but his spirit remained undeterred. He was a man trapped in an infant's form, and he would not be confined for long.
As the night drew on, Adrian's thoughts turned to the future, to the possibilities that lay beyond the brothel's walls. He would escape this den of vice, he vowed. He would rise above the filth and the cruelty, and one day, he would change the world.
Adrian's newfound ability to walk brought a small sense of freedom in the confined space of the brothel. At ten months old, his steps were hesitant but determined, a stark contrast to the stillness of his earlier months.
The slums of Aryde city, a stark shadow beneath the gleaming capital of Brittanica, were all he knew. Here, the air was thick with lost dreams and the heavy burden of survival. Yet, amidst the despair, his mother had found a glimmer of hope—a well-regarded orphanage just beyond the reach of the slums' grasp.
His speech was emerging, single words escaping his lips with effort, as he navigated the complexities of language with underdeveloped vocal cords.
But today, the brothel was quiet, its usual clamor muted as it prepared to open. This was Adrian's time—the precious hours when he could roam beyond the confines of the rooms that held too many secrets.
Roxanne, whose life was woven into the fabric of the brothel, lifted Adrian into the air, her eyes reflecting a mix of affection and sorrow. "Adrian, you're getting quite cute now," she said, her voice tinged with a sadness that seemed out of place in the harsh reality of their world.
"You'll be leaving us soon. I'll miss you. Despite everything, I cared for you, and I'll feel your absence," she continued, her words sincere.
Adrian's thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. 'Cared for me? Is this some twisted joke, is throwing a baby in the corner of the room while you get fucked in front of said baby called caring?' he wondered silently. But he saw the opportunity to bring a moment of happiness to Roxanne's life, however fleeting it might be.
"Love Auntie," he said, his voice soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the thoughts racing through his mind.
Roxanne's smile was a rare sight, and her kiss on his cheek was gentle, a momentary escape from the reality they both faced. "When you're grown, come back and we'll have some fun together, okay?" she said, half in jest, unaware of the turmoil her words caused.
Adrian, maintaining his innocent facade, acted as if he didn't grasp the meaning behind her words.
The moment was interrupted by Melissa's entrance. Her presence was commanding, her protective nature evident in her tone. "Stop messing with him, Roxanne," she said firmly.
Roxanne's expression softened. "But I'll miss him. When is he leaving?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of genuine concern.
"In two months," Melissa replied, her voice steady with resolve. "He'll have a chance at a real life there."
As the conversation unfolded, Adrian remained silent, his thoughts on the future. The orphanage represented a new beginning, a place where he could grow and learn, far from the shadows of the life he was leaving behind. It was a chance to be more than a silent witness—a chance to live a life he had yet to imagine.