It was early morning, and the sun shone down fondly on the world below.
At the base of a mountain, a thriving city spanned several miles along a crystal blue coastline.
Markets had opened up and people were already browsing wares, searching hopelessly for the next bargain.
Everyone in the market could hear the sound of hooves beating down on the paved streets. Their eyes darted towards the source.
Two powerful and majestic white horses pulled an ornate carriage behind them.
It's silver and white coloring meant it could belong to only one family. The Olethros.
Inside the carriage, a young boy in fine clothing was testing the patience of his poor nanny.
"I don't want any of those pompous little pricks. They're all spineless little shits who'd wipe my ass in the morning if I asked them to."
By now, the boy's nanny was used to hearing such vulgarity come out the mouth of an otherwise cute child. She barely even noticed it.
"Young Master, you can't keep being so picky. You're almost ten now. In a week's time, if you haven't found a Bi'an then you'll fall out of the line of succession. And your older siblings will not-"
"I know, Nanny Jia." The child sighed as he stared out the window. "Those taint ticklers won't hesitate to kill me…"
The boy's nanny nodded in response.
"That's right, so you have to pick someone. They don't have to be perfect, just your age and competent. The cadets from your class have been selected from the finest families in Komen. They have great potential if you'll give them a chance."
"Yes, their potential is worthy of renown. And perhaps if what I was in need of was a stablehand or an altar boy, I would consider them. But as I am in need of an attendant, I find them to be worth the same as the dung on my shoe."
"Young Master…"
No matter how hard the nanny tried to sell the idea, the child didn't look like he was any closer to buying it.
Nanny Jia didn't like to play the stern guardian card, but she certainly wasn't above it either.
As a nanny of the esteemed Olethros family, any perceived shortcomings on the part of her young master would be seen as a reflection of her care.
Even without knowing it, he held her life in his hands.
"You need to choose a brother in arms soon, Young Master Raizel. It's the only way our safety can-."
"Stop the carriage."
"What? Young Master, you-"
Raizel was an impatient little tyke. He only liked telling a person to do something one time before he endeavored to do it himself.
So in hindsight, Jia shouldn't have been all that surprised when the young boy opened up the window and jumped out of it.
-
"You're going to die today, brat!"
"You first, tubby!"
A crowd was gathered around a fight in the bazaar.
The participants were on unequal footing from the beginning. One was a large man with a rounder figure, and the other was a thin child.
The child was emacieated. He barely looked strong enough to stand up against the wind.
No one was expecting the child to be able to wrestle a fully grown man to the ground with savagely well-placed bites and scratches.
Blows constantly rained down on the back of his head, but the boy was not deterred.
"Little bastard!"
The man reached for an empty bottle lying still on the street.
He smashed the bottle over the child's head, and finally, the two separated.
Blood leaked from the young child's head as he struggled to get up from the ground.
A hard hand grabbed him by the neck and lifted him into the air.
The business end of a broken bottle was pressed into his neck.
"You so much as twitch again, I open your carotid, you thieving little fucker."
Both fighters were bleeding in one spot or another. But the child's head wound looked particularly bad.
Everyone in the market had been fine watching a little scrap before, but now that they were seeing the severity of the injuries sustained by the participants, they had begun to have second thoughts.
Particularly surrounding the death of a child- however unruly he may have been.
Voices from the crowd began to speak up on the boy's behalf.
"Hey... I think this is going a little too far, Pete."
"Kid's not even from around here. Just call the guards and let them handle it."
"All of you shut up! This one's a thief through and through! Size of im' don't matter!" The man snapped.
"He was eating out of the trash..."
"My trash!"
Several audible groans could be heard, but Pete paid them no mind.
"As I'm the offended party, I'll handle this however I see fit! And if any of you have a problem with that, you can get what he got!"
It seemed speaking up was the full extent to which anyone would deign to interfere. No one was willing to get cut or worse just to save the life of one homeless child.
"Can we now? Are you certain that you can back up your words?"
A child's voice cut through the tense atmosphere.
Heads turned to the top of a building where a young boy sat watching in great amusement.
Despite the glare of the sun, everyone immediately recognized the white and silver coloring of his coat.
Pete in particular had gone pale. Years of tax evasion would do that to someone.
"I... umm.."
Raizel leapt down from the roof and landed perfectly in the square without so much as a bend in his knees. The emaciated child recognized the clear difference between the two of them right away.
Even though they appeared to be around the same age, Raizel had quite the height advantage.
His body, though not nearly at it's peak, was also well developed and balanced.
This wasn't just the result of someone who never missed a meal. What the thin child was seeing was the kind of body that could only be produced by someone from someone who trained consistently.
Envy coursed through him.
"Drop the boy please, sir. I beg you to make me ask twice."
Raizel was years away from possessing the commanding tone of manhood. And yet, Pete still dropped the boy in his grip and backed away without thinking about it.
The boy rubbed the dirt and blood out of his eye as he started to get to his feet. As he did so, Raizel noted his appearance.
Ashy brown skin, and black hair matted with dirt, blood, and who knew what else. He was as thin as two twigs put together.
Raizel had a sneaking suspicion that if he were to lift the child's shirt, he would find ribs protruding from the skin.
But for now, all of that was secondary.
Raizel's only focus was on the bright orange eyes sitting in the boy's skull.
'Found you.'
Reaching inside of his coat, Raizel pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to the bleeding boy. As he did so, he slowly tried to establish a bit of familiarity.
"You're Albazian, right? Quite a long way from home if that's the case." He smiled. "What's your name?"
The child stared at the pristine white handkerchief through bloody vision. It was woven with some fine fabrics and even a nicely designed pattern.
"...Solomon."
Before Raizel could take it back, Solomon took his handkerchief.
But instead of putting the piece of fabric to his head like Raizel expected, Solomon pulled off his own dirty shirt and put that to his head instead.
He proceeded to walk across the square to a woman's stall. The boy then placed the handkerchief down in front of her gently and looked up at her with innocent eyes.
"Wanna sell this."
Silence settled in the square like a fog.
Everyone thought that the young master of the destruction swordsmen was going to cut down the very same boy he had just saved.
The very last thing they expected to see was the young master double over in laughter instead.
As the young boy wiped tears from his eyes, his thoughts were ones only known to time and himself.
"Hey, kid." Raizel called out. "Do you want to make some real money?"
Solomon's ears twitched like a dog's.