The city buzzed with life, as chaotic and vibrant as ever. Children darted through the crowd, their laughter ringing out like bells amidst the clamor of merchants shouting prices and haggling customers. Carriages rattled noisily over the uneven cobblestones, their wheels creaking under heavy loads of goods or passengers wrapped in fine fabrics. Birds flitted overhead, their wings slicing through the crisp air before disappearing into the blue expanse above. Life here moved at a relentless pace, each person absorbed in their own world, oblivious to those on the fringes—like Kale.
Kale sat in his usual spot near the edge of the marketplace, a dented tin cup resting beside him. Some passersby noticed him, tossing coins into the cup without meeting his gaze. Others walked past without so much as a glance, their faces blank masks of indifference. But every now and then, someone would stop long enough to say something.
"Still here, boy?" an old woman asked, her voice gruff but not unkind. She tossed a copper coin into his cup, its clink barely audible over the din.
"Y-yes, ma'am," Kale replied quietly, keeping his head bowed. He didn't look up, knowing better than to make eye contact.
The woman hesitated for a moment, studying him. "You should find work. Sitting here won't get you far kid."
"I w-will," Kale murmured, though he doubted she heard him. Work wasn't easy to come by for someone like him—just a scrawny kid with tattered clothes and no connections.
Another man approached, younger this time, dressed in worn leather armor that marked him as a low-ranking guard. He sneered down at Kale, nudging the tin cup with the toe of his boot. "Pathetic," he muttered loud enough for Kale to hear. "Get off the streets and earn your keep."
Kale said nothing, his jaw tightening slightly. He'd heard worse insults—and delivered backhanded retorts when he felt brave enough—but today, he kept silent. Arguing wouldn't fill his stomach or keep him safe tonight.
As the guard walked away, another figure approached—a young girl clutching a loaf of bread close to her chest. Her wide eyes flickered between Kale and the bustling crowd behind her, as though afraid of being caught.
"Here," she whispered, dropping half the loaf into his cup before hurrying off.
Kale blinked in surprise, staring after her. It wasn't much, but it was more kindness than he usually received.
But none of these moments truly mattered—not compared to what waited for him beyond the noise and chaos. With a gentle pull, Kale closed his eyes, letting the familiar sensation wash over him. His surroundings shifted—the cacophony of the city faded, replaced by an endless expanse of shimmering golden streams and radiant lights. This realm was as breathtaking as the first time he'd stumbled upon it nearly a year ago.
Back then, everything had changed for him.
It all started when he overheard a group of drunken men arguing late one night about Seekers—those rare individuals blessed with the ability to access the Ocean of Knowledge.
"You're telling me they just… dive into some magical place and come out knowing things?" one man slurred, leaning heavily against the wall of a tavern.
"Not 'some magical place,'" another corrected, jabbing a finger in the air for emphasis. "The Ocean of Knowledge. It's real. Seekers have been using it since the dawn of time!"
"Oh yeah? Like what?" the first man challenged, crossing his arms skeptically.
"Tools," the second man replied smugly. "Hunting techniques. Medicine. Hell, I even heard one guy learned how to build bridges from the damn thing!"
Kale had listened intently, his heart racing. Could such a thing really exist? That night, curiosity got the better of him, and he tried it himself. Closing his eyes, he focused on the faint whispers he'd always felt but never understood. And then… he was there.
The sight took his breath away. The Ocean stretched infinitely before him, its waves of liquid gold pulsing with energy. Threads of light danced around him, guiding him toward truths hidden from ordinary eyes. It was overwhelming yet beautiful—a boundless expanse of knowledge waiting to be explored. More importantly, it gave him hope. For the first time in his life, Kale realized he wasn't just a beggar destined to scrape by for scraps. He was something more.
Even now, as he drifted deeper into the Ocean's embrace, memories of that discovery surged within him.
"You're stronger than you think," a voice seemed to whisper—not aloud, but deep within his mind.
Kale smiled faintly, letting the thought settle. Over the months, the Ocean had become his mentor, teaching him skills that transformed his daily struggle for survival. Golden threads guided him to edible plants in the forest next to his makeshift hut, revealing herbs that healed cuts and bruises or fruits that quelled hunger longer than anything else he'd eaten. When he needed shelter, the Ocean showed him how to build a sturdy structure using fallen branches and salvaged materials.
When Kale finally pulled himself back to reality, the noise of the city rushed in like a wave breaking against the shore. Coins clinked softly in his tin cup, a reminder of where he was—and who he appeared to be to the rest of the world. Yet inside, he knew better.
A merchant passing by glanced down at him, shaking his head. "Kid, you'll starve if you don't do something different."
"I'm working on it," Kale muttered under his breath, though the man had already moved on.
With renewed determination, Kale pushed himself to his feet, clutching the cup tightly in his hand. Today's earnings would buy him bread, maybe even milk if he was lucky. But tonight, when he returned to his shack, he would dive deeper into the Ocean once more. There were still secrets to uncover, still truths to learn. And perhaps, one day, those truths would lead him to something greater—a way out of this life, a chance to truly belong.
For now, though, survival came first.