"Bimpky" - a derogatory term for the lowest of the low, those deemed worthless. The body Flynn now occupied had been nameless, abandoned on the streets, until Mr. Baggins took him in. The old man's first impression had led him to call the boy Bimpky, a name that stuck.
Bimpky's timid nature and frail appearance had made him an easy target for the Digger boys. They would often steal his meager earnings, leaving him with nothing.
But that was before Flynn's arrival.
"Hey Bimpky!" their leader called out with a wide smile. "What'cha doin' here, slummin' it with the beggars?"
Flynn took a deep breath, he knew the Digger boys' limitations - uneducated, impoverished, and reliant on brute force.
"I'm exploring the application of fractal geometry in urban planning," He said, watching as confusion broadly written onto their faces.
The Digger boys exchanged bewildered glances, their leader's expression twisting into a scowl.
"Wha'?" he growled, "You think you're clever, Bimpky?... and wha' the bloody hell Fractals?."
Flynn's eyes became filled with amusement. "Fractals, my friends. The mathematical sets that exhibit self-similarity. Imagine optimizing beggar placement using Mandelbrot's principles."
The Digger boys looked at each other, lost.
One of them, a burly youth, spoke up, "Blimey, Bimpky's gone mad!"
Flynn chuckled, "Not mad, my friends. Educated. Something you lot could benefit from."
Their leader frowned. Hearing 'Bimpky' say all these made him fill inferior, and this, he wasn't ready to admit, "Shut it! You think you're better!—"
Flynn stood tall and proud, "I know I am. I have a scholarship in Advanced Physics and Mathematics. What do you have?"
The leader shook head both in utter disbelief and disapproval, "Ya just talkin' nonsense! Ain't no way in 'eaven 'n' on this Earf you speak like a scholar, Bimpky!"
Flynn fingers steepled before his face, as he stood in a pose of intellectual superiority. "Would you like me to define the denotation of your obtuseness?"
The Digger boys again exchanged confused glances.
"Blimey, guv!" another exclaimed, turnin' to the leader, "I dunno wot 'e means, but it sounds like 'e's 'avin' a go at us! 'E's insultin' us, ain't 'e?"
Their leader's face reddened. "Shut yer gob," then to Flynn, "Bimpky! Ya think ya're better'n us wiv yer fancy book learnin'?"
Flynn smiled, he actually was relishing the moment, as he again said, "Obtuseness, my friends, means being stubbornly foolish or ignorant."
The leader snarled, "Ya think ya're so clever, don't ya? Well, let's see 'ow clever ya are when we—"
Flynn interrupted, his voice calm and authoritative. "I'd advise against any physical altercation. Your... limited cognitive abilities wouldn't fare well against my intellectual prowess.
"Get hold of 'im!" the leader rashly shouted.
The five Digger boys charged towards him, but Flynn had a backup plan. He swiftly sat amidst the Beggers, seeking refuge.
The Digger boys hesitated, unsure whether to tangle with their elders. In this unforgiving society, youth generally showed deference to age.
Noticing the Beggers stare, the leader cleared his throat, "Ya think a bunch o' stinkin' Beggers'll save ya, Bimpky?"
Flynn smiled wryly from the safety of his new surroundings. "Apparently, they're better company than you lot."
Just again before the leader could say a word, one of the Beggers, a grizzled old man, spoke up, "Ain't no one bothers our own, lad. Not while we're 'ere."
Noticing the Old Beggers' seriousness, the Digger boys backed off, muttering curses under their breath.
"Next time Bimpky! Next Time!..."
As they left, Flynn released a deep breath, before his eyes met the old Begger's, "Thanks, a lot. I really appreciate."
The old Begger nodded, his weathered face creasing into a smile. "Name's Fletcher, lad. You're under our protection now, actually, the Beggers protection."
Flynn nodded, "Thanks," before soon asking, "You sound civilized."
"Born and raised in the City of London.."
"You were!" Flynn's eyes widened....
'If I have someone like this, then having a goal of becoming a scholar won't be that hard.'
He paused, deciding to ask, "Sir but Why are you.. here?" He asked pointing to the Beggers' line.
"Circumstances son!"
"Oh.. Okay. And by chance, can I get an overview of the entire environment. There would be 5 shillings as a reward."
The Begger paused and looked at him, "5 shillings?"
He nodded.
"..... What about if I tell you something more than that. The answers to your burning question?" Fletcher smile curled up, leaving Flynn confused.
"What's that?"
*******
Flynn walked beside Fletcher, noticing the older man's labored gait, his joints creaking with each step. He didn't ask what happened probably might be an accident or worse.
They left the Beggers' line, entering the crumbling location of an old church; St. Mary's Church.
It was the same size as that of a normal duplex. Inside, cobwebs covered each and every side of the stained glass windows, filtering the faint light. Dust-coated pews lined the nave, with wooden surfaces worn smooth. The air again, reeked of dampness and decay.
Fletcher halted before the altar, he turned, eyes locked on Flynn, "So, ya ready to hear about the Mysteries?"
"How did you know I wanted more answers." Flynn asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Fletcher's eyes narrowed to this question . "The Bimpky I knew would've accepted that beating, wouldn't have dared speak up."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"The Bimpky I knew didn't possess your eloquence, your fire."
Fletcher's eyes searched Flynn's.
"The Bimpky I knew...was dead inside.
Soon, his face creased into a warm smile as Flynn heard these words. "Your eyes, lad. They sparkle with life. You've got a soul on fire."
He paused, studying the poorly dressed Flynn, whose frown led him to say, "Did you bring me here to discuss my life or share something intriguing?"
The Old Beggers' gaze softened, the warm smile spreading across his face. Then, a question, "What's a Gatekeeper?"
Flynn raised an eyebrow. "A Gatekeeper? Really? That's where you're starting?"
"Answer!"
Flynn shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Someone who manages Gates, ensures no one enters or exits. But why am I here?"
The old man didn't say another word, until he sat on a nearby dusty chair. His skinny finger, traced a perfect circle in the dust.
"You're correct," he said, his voice low and mysterious. "Now, you see, I want to discuss something important with you. And that's Gates..."
"Gates?"
"Yes. Doorways to five realms: The Spirits', The Darkness, The Nightmares, The Endless, and The void...."
Fletcher's finger moved with precision, drawing a straight line from the circle's radius to another circle, connecting the two.
".... Gates are opened by Keys," he explained, "forged from ancient dark magic by Gatekeepers; They oversee Gate activities, safeguarding our world from creatures seeking to invade and wreak havoc."
Next to the circle, Fletcher drew a square, his finger cautious not to err.
"In these Gates are protected by elders who existed before time. They are known as the Keepers and are secured with chains by Holders who are like the stem of a tree with branches; The Keeper. Although Gates tend to open, creatures can't escape unless the force field breaks, but that doesn't mean humans cannot enter these Gates....."
Fletcher's eyes locked onto Flynn's,
".... Gatekeepers have struggled to seal the Gates and yet, they open, and one will open tomorrow, during the seventeenth full moon."
Flynn's gaze narrowed, sensing urgency. "What happens if the force field breaks?" He asked.
"Unimaginable! Creatures would escape the other side, into our world."
Flynn frowned. 'If all what the begger is saying now is true, then definitely this isn't a normal world—'
"Okay, now my 5 shillings!" A crooked smile revealing disarray tooth caused a shiver through Flynn's spin. He had promised when not having the money.
"..... That's true," he coughed out, "Would you take 1 for the time being?...."