The city of Hohn stretched out under a summer sky, bathed in a soft light that barely illuminated the narrow, dusty alleys of its slums. Here, buildings were tightly packed together, made of worn wood and stone, and every nook and cranny breathed misery and adversity. In this lower town, poverty was not only visible, it could be felt in the air, in the glances of passers-by, in the muffled noise of arguments and shouts. On one of the rooftops, a black-haired boy with deep black eyes highlighted by large dark circles was observing the scene.
His clothes, stitched and patched, covered almost his entire body, and on his back hung an old bag. A hood partially concealed his face as he bent down to watch the people frolicking in the streets below. His glances over the city were both cynical and penetrating.
He saw those who cheated and conned their customers, those who fought for a piece of bread, and those who simply endured hunger with resignation. His lips murmured a single sentence, dry and sharp:
"As pitiful as ever... So this is what the new world is like?"
Without further ado, he slipped off the roof into the slum market, leaping nimbly down over obstacles suspended by buildings. The market was organized chaos, a mass of merchants and customers, shouting and haggling, oblivious to the small presence that moved among them like a ghost. The boy, quick and precise, infiltrated between the stalls, his skilful hands discreetly stealing coins and precious objects. Conversations continued, negotiations in full swing, but...
"All right, I'll pay you right away- Huh?!" choked a customer, fumbling with his bag.
"Where are my coins?!" bellowed a meat merchant, hand in his apron.
"My bracelets!... I had them here a minute ago!" whined one lady.
Soon, a wave of discontent swept through the crowd, with some swearing and others digging into their pockets like idiots. The merchants, in addition to their customers, realized that their pockets had been emptied. The boy was already gone. A watch, a few coins, a stone bracelet - all had disappeared with almost supernatural speed.
In the crowd, a moustachioed man, dressed with an elegance that contrasted with the austerity of the market, observed the scene with a discreet smile. He had seen the boy disappear into the alleys with his old bag. His smile widened, as if this fleeting apparition reminded him of something.
"Interesting," he murmured, intrigued.
A few minutes later, the boy darted into a narrow alley, scaled a gutter with the agility of a monkey and reached the roof of a higher building. There, he entered a makeshift shelter built from salvaged planks and sheet metal, and announced, almost gleefully. :
"I'm back."
"Kieran!"
A young girl ran up to him and hugged him tenderly.
"Liya, have I kept you waiting?"
She shook her head, smiling despite the tears in her eyes. Losing sight of her would be unthinkable for Kieran. Aliya, his little sister, was his treasure, his driving force, the reason he kept fighting every day. Ever since the Great Collision that had destroyed their family and turned the world upside down.
The world they lived in, called Resh, was no ordinary world. Born of the fusion of three worlds by the gods to counter the Corrupters, it still bore the scars of that cataclysm. Most of the population had perished, but some with the ability to travel between worlds - the Blessed - had survived.
Some had been given supernatural powers to fight the Corrupters, who were reappearing in ever greater numbers and strength. Others, like Kieran and Aliya, possessed no gifts at all, but had learned to survive through ingenuity and perseverance.
They lived in this city, day after day, Kieran stealing what he could to support his sister. As for Aliya, she often stayed hidden, but cooked whenever the opportunity arose, turning what little they had into a decent meal. Today was no different.
Kieran poured onto the table made of wooden crates everything he'd stolen that day: a silver watch, three bracelets adorned with stones, five bags of copper coins, four red apples, an orange and, most precious to him, a piece of pork shoulder for Aliya's pleasure.
"Well, we've had quite a haul today," he murmured, analyzing each item meticulously.
Kieran, had gained an enormous amount of experience over the course of his multiple larcenies traversing time, when it came to appraisal mainly.
"The watch can sell for a lot, the bracelets are valuable, and these copper bags... perfect for the week. I even brought some meat, look!" he exclaimed happily, holding the pork shoulder tied in his hand.
Aliya smiled, her eyes shining with emotion and gratitude.
"Thank you, Kieran... I-I'm sorry I can't do more than you already do. You're...forced to fly because of me and you..." she held back, sobbing.
Kieran hesitated for a moment, confused by her words and her tears. Then, with a firm but benevolent air, he replied, stroking her head:
"You're wrong, Liya. You're already doing much more than you think. And it's not because of you that I'm doing this. Even if you weren't here, I'd have had to do it anyway.
Aliya, with tears in her eyes, tapped him gently on the chest:
"Dirty Villain!" she said, half angry, half in tears. "You're always saying embarrassing things."
"It's the truth, Great Crybaby," he smiled. "Don't ever forget it."
She apologized, blushing, and quickly changed the subject, preparing the piece of pork shoulder for dinner. Two hours later, the vegetable pork stew Aliya had prepared had filled his stomach. Aliya herself was full, but Kieran, who was pretending not to be, his belly growled comically, making his sister laugh.
Outside, a sheet of metal creaked in the wind. Farther away, a tower alarm sounded - three times, muffled. In Hohn, it was said to be the signal of a patrol of Blessed having driven "something" back into the sewers. Many things were said. Murmurs about the Corrupters ran faster than water.
Kieran stopped laughing first. Something was wrong. The silence that followed the bell was not the usual silence. It was a silence that held its breath.
A light friction grazed the tin roof behind his back.
Suddenly, a faint sound reached Kieran's ears. His senses, honed by years of survival in the slums, constantly protecting his sister from all dangers, allowed him to perceive an unusual presence. He grabbed Aliya by the arm and gestured silence. :
"Stay here, and don't make any noise. I heard something. Stay hidden until I get back, okay?"
Aliya nodded, worried there was little she could do, so she advised him:
"Yes, be careful, Kieran..."
He smiled at her, then changed his expression, his face hardening expressly. Slowly, he stepped out of the shelter and positioned himself on the roof.
All seemed calm, but he felt a heavy, unpleasant presence, as if someone were watching him. A large shadow suddenly covered him from behind. Despite his lack of combat skills, he immediately tried to kill the person behind him, in one swift move, he drew a broad-bladed knife and stabbed hidden in one of his pockets, but his blade only met the wind.
"Not bad. What agility!" cried a deep voice behind him.
Surprised once again but keeping his composure, Kieran rolled to the ground on instinct, taking up a position to observe his interlocutor after some thought as to who it was. In front of him stood a tall, mustachioed man, dressed with an elegance that contrasted violently with the poor streets of Hohn. It was the first time he'd seen him.
"Who are you?!" asked Kieran, on guard.
"Where are you from?! And how did you know where this place was?!"
Kieran was wary of the moustachioed man who exuded an enigmatic aura, noticing this, the latter curtsied with a refined smile in apology.
"Forgive my rudeness, young man. I forgot to introduce myself... My name is Delcan Beladung, nicknamed 'The Refined Collector'."
Following Delcan's brief introduction, the boy frowned, suspicious, but intrigued by who the man was and why he had come all this way.
"I am a merchant of great renown, recently arrived in Hohn, and I have a proposal for you, young Kieran."
Delcan pronounced his first name with a strange, almost calculated intonation, and the man's air of mystery only served to arouse Kieran's curiosity, but also his still-intact distrust, for he sensed that this man was extremely dangerous.
"How about we discuss this, amicably?"