As the time neared ten, the surroundings were quiet, disturbed only by the fountain's constant yet gentle splashing that subtly broke the stillness. Even though the area was drowned in darkness, the half-moon cast its pale glow across the ground. Everything was silent, and almost nothing stirred, except for the slow breathing of a boy sleeping against the fountain's edge.
His clothes were torn and filthy, and in some places even stained with dried blood. The most striking thing about him was the thin, shirt-like garment he wore, something reminiscent of medieval clothing. Under normal circumstances, such a piece would not look extraordinary, but the marks carved across it were enough to horrify anyone.
Those seven long slashes had clearly come from a Night creature, and the fact that this boy had managed to survive such a monster was astonishing. Even now, the seven injuries on his body were healing thanks to the Great Water. Who would have believed that an ordinary fountain's water could possess such power?
But the boy — Unwan — paid no attention to any of it. His dream was unfolding pleasantly. To be precise, he was reliving a memory. The events had taken place about two years earlier, when Unwan was living in an orphanage, and days passed as they always did.
***
As always, the clock struck 7:30, and a young caretaker — resembling a nun, yet different somehow, and without a veil—walked between about twenty simple beds, waking the children. For an ordinary orphanage, twenty might have seemed small, yet these beds had remained unfilled ever since Unwan could remember, unless one counted the incident that happened when he first arrived.
The children rose one by one. Some stretched, some frowned sleepily, but one boy did not wake. Unwan lay curled up, hugging his pillow like any child. But his pleasant dream did not last. The caretaker approached, gently grabbed his blanket, and yanked it off in one swift pull. Exposed to the cold, the boy began shivering and, within three seconds, shot up and began speaking.
– Hey, whoever you are, I'll teach you some manners, you filthy. I told you a hundred times not to wake me up like—
By then he had opened his eyes and realized what he was seeing. A woman stood holding his blanket. Behind her, from other beds and corners of the room, several children were watching him with curiosity.
– Ah, my apologies, Miss Kalia. I mistook you for someone else. Please—
But Kalia did not let him finish. She summoned her first-tier grimoire of water and dropped a sphere of water that nearly the size of his head—right over him. The water was so cold that it jolted him awake, and he instantly understood that resisting would do him no good.
This wasn't the first time, and clearly it would not be the last. His face, his clothes, his bed, even the blanket—everything was soaked. The children around him were laughing.
– Change your clothes immediately and take your bedding out into the sunlight.
Unwan replied in an annoyed tone.
–Fine.
Kalia ignored him completely. Instead, she turned to the other children.
– The rest of you—wash your faces and go to the dining hall.
The children calmly left the room. Most were younger than Unwan. His peers were few, and he had never seen anyone older than himself in this orphanage—only those around his age.
As everyone left, Unwan slowly rubbed his empty hands together and muttered to himself:
– A wonderful start to a wonderful day.
Even though the Unwan dreaming now was only observing this memory like a second person, it still belonged to him.
After changing clothes, he reached toward the small drawer beside his bed. Though every child had such a drawer, most kept theirs empty or with only one or two items inside. Unwan was the complete opposite. If he could, he would have taken someone else's drawer as well.
Each unit had two standard drawers. Unwan opened the top one. Inside were various items: stones with carved numbers, a small rope, pieces of animal hide, and other objects no ordinary orphan would own. In the far corner lay several folded papers—small scraps of different shapes. These papers had recently become popular and expensive, well beyond what an orphan could afford.
Yet none of this belonged to anyone else—these were Unwan's. He had always been fascinated by nature and how things worked. He conducted little experiments on his own. The orphanage considered it dangerous and punished him. But the punishment never stopped his curiosity. In fact, the very first thought he had after being scolded was: "Where can I continue studying nature now?"
Strangely, no one else shared this interest. No other child cared about nature or how it worked.
During one lesson about the sun, stars, and moon, Unwan had asked why the sun rises every day. His teacher had stared at him as if he were talking nonsense, then replied in a firm tone.
***
"Why should we care about that? What matters is that it rises, driving away the terrors of the night. If you really want an answer, here it is: The Goddess created it so it would serve us every day. Is that enough?"
These words hurt Unwan a little; after all, he had been very young then. But something else bothered him even more.
'Did she say that because she truly believes it… or because she doesn't know the real answer?'
As he slowly returned to his seat, he continued thinking.
'Yes, it rises, Miss Lorens. But what if it doesn't rise tomorrow? Can you be certain it will?'
In his mind, he was speaking directly to his teacher, though outwardly he remained silent.
'Yes, maybe the Goddess made it for our benefit. But why? Why make it helpful? And why is it so small…?'
His thoughts were becoming more and more engrossing, but Miss Lorens approached and lightly smacked the back of his head.
– Go write the topic on the board.
***
Thus, the rest of that day passed tediously. Daydreaming in class for merely two minutes had earned him extra homework.
But today was different. Today, Unwan hoped he would finally uncover the answer to a mystery that had intrigued him for a long time.