"-in…
Rin…"
As I slowly open my eyes, waking up from a deep sleep in a cold sweat, I hear my mother calling out to me from the other side of my door, if you could call it that. Being a curtain hanging in the door frame.
"If you don't get up, I'm coming in!"
"I'm up!" I call out through chattering teeth. The cold sweat froze me more with the negative temperature.
I crawled off my mat, threw on my winter jacket, and walked through the curtain. Startling my mom when I appeared in front of her.
"You're going to be late for work." She says, walking with me to the front door.
I responded with a confirming groan while opening the front door, which was barely holding on to its hinges.
"You're not going to eat?"
"I'll eat when I'm there. Save what's left of the food for you and Rose. I'll see you at the end of the week; say bye to Rose for me."
"Wait! I hear there's going to be a terrible snowstorm soon. Do you have your emergency heating artifact?"
"Yes. It's fine though, I'll be in the Middle District." Looking back at my mom. "I love you."
"Love you, t–" I cut her off with the door. Shutting it with a screech.
As I walked off the front steps, the pressure of the wintry morning winds hit like sharp, piercing blades; instinctively, I pulled my hood up to suppress some of the feeling.
It was early morning, barely allowing me to see the dull, freshly fallen layer of snow covering every square inch. Every step sent more frosty particles into my boots.
Decorated with white flakes and icicles, conveniently placed off to the sides, trees lined the obscured gravel road.
Every so often, the line of trees would break to frame the homes of the Lower District residents in all their run-down splendor. Singular floor homes, made of old rooting wood and a few bricks. Patched together just enough, so the cold doesn't get in. Every building was a dark shade of brown and grey, and the many dead shrubs lining the homes and streets added to the dreariness of it all.
Living in the Lower District means I have to work as often as possible just to live a passable life. Having to quit school at 13, after my father passed away, I picked up any odd job I could to get zen in my pocket. Luckily, not too long ago, a man in the Middle District hired me for a position in his cafe. Right time, right moment situation. I get a little extra pay than the average Lower District resident, and he gets cheap labor. Unluckily, as the Middle District is a four-hour walk away, I have to stay in a nearby inn during my work week. The decreased time I've spent with my family is straining our relationship, making it hard to be in a good mood.
I'm exactly like Dad.
I tried to pass the time and distract myself from my grumbling stomach by enjoying the scenery, which was about as remarkable as Officer Crowell's rear end, and greeting the few people I passed by.
I did what I could to keep my eyes and mind busy. Fire lights flickering in homes, students on their way to classes with friends, and the occasional early-morning drunk stumbling down the path… and proceeding to collapse, was all I needed to stay entertained.
The outskirts of the Lower District, which is where I live, are filled with plots of land with a few homes, all separated from each other. Leaving the plot of land down a dirt path, and it's typically a couple of minutes before coming to another one. Some plots of land are bigger than others, with some having markets and schools deeper into the District.
The closer I got to the Middle District, the scenery became less and less of a sight for sore eyes. The trees deeper and stronger, the homes bigger and more impressive, and the increasing number of people going about their day made the atmosphere seem like less of a ghost town.
When one goes past the last town in the Lower District towards the District Gate, the thinner the District boundary becomes and the fewer buildings there are. Switching from a town, to a kilometer-wide stretch of flat land and dirt roads that lead to the Gate. The only way into the Middle District is through a town connected with the gate. With the area surrounded by unpatrolled forest, it acts as a funnel that keeps people on one path. So unless you want to become Beast food, it's best to stay in the funnel. Leave the confines of the town or patrolled roads, and meeting a Beast face-to-face no longer happens in just nightmares.
Just as the walk became insufferable from the boredom and cold, the sight of buildings ahead refreshed my resolve. Marking my arrival at the Lower Districts' town proper, which holds the gate.
A river separates the town and the Middle District Gate, with a bridge being the only way across. From Will Beasts-infested Forest along the river, to angry guards looking to take their anger out on any Lower-District resident, this is the only safe way inside.
… And legal.
As I made my way quickly through town, ignoring the calls of merchants and stalls asking for my already little zen, I finally arrived at the gate three and a half hours after I left my house.
The line to get through wasn't long considering the population of the town, but it was long enough to count the seconds standing out in the cold. Being greeted by a gate guard just under ten minutes after getting in line.
A scruffy, 30-year-old man with unkempt facial hair, faint wrinkles, and a gruff voice to match.
"Permit." He said while looking me up and down.
I did as he asked, imbuing some of my Will, in bursts, into my permit, and handed it over. "Here. You'll find that everything's in order." I said with a smirk.
Permits are like keys that only react when imbued with a specific order and intensity from one's Will. The corner of my permit glowed with a faint brown hue in reaction to my Will.
"I'll be the judge of that." The guard said slowly as he leaned closer, accentuating the final word enough to spit in my face. I practically recoiled from his breath.
He knows me, which is why he's not asking questions. He simply enjoys making a scene.
The scum.
"Come on. You know me, Officer—"
"Now, what fool would hire an inish like you?" Cutting me off.
I rolled my eyes, tired of this routine. "Someone who makes more money than you." I said as a matter of fact.
"What did you say, inish!" The guard immediately flairs in anger, readying himself to punch me when a commanding order comes from behind him.
"At ease, Crowell."
The guard straightens like a log, yelling, "Sir!" And throws up a general salute with his right hand in a fist over the base of his sternum, where the source of the Will is, and brings his left arm straight down at his side, fingers straight.
Guards all around follow suit upon noticing the superiors' passing.
The superior, a mid-60-year-old man by the name of Captain Moser, begins reprimanding the guard. "Rin here, is a welcomed guest of the Middle District. Don't you forget it."
"Thanks, Captain Moser." I said appreciatively.
"If any of these stones they call soldiers give you any trouble, just mention my name. That'll shut em right up." He responds with a grin.
Angrily addressing Crowell, "You are a soldier, boy! Not some street rat. Treat the ones following the law with the same respect you would show to the Royal Family themselves! And watch your tongue. You're setting an example." He finishes with a more menacing tone.
"Yes, Sir!" Crowell cries out, his voice cracking.
After Captain Moser finished reprimanding the stone soldier, still shaking in a salute, he offered to finish my admission.
I thank Captain Moser again after being processed, before setting off into the Middle District.
As I walk through the gates, I look back to see Officer Crowell watching me with a grimace. I give him a wink before my line-of-sight is cut off by the crowd of people walking past.
Out from the influx of people around the gate, I got my bearings straight and headed off in the direction of the cafe, which is about a twenty-minute walk. Thankfully, the livelier surroundings of the Middle District make for a more entertaining trip.
The bustle of people all moving around with joy and determination, the rolling of stones as carriages passed by, and the melody of private conversations all blended together in a chaotic harmony.
The view of taller buildings, all made of various bland colours, cumulated to make a professional, but not dreary, scenery that mixed with the snow. The bright shine from the streetlight artifacts reflected off the snow, spotlighting the streets as its early-morning stage.
Maybe… I don't hate the snow.
The concrete and brick buildings easily distinguish the quality between the Middle and Lower Districts. Rich, wood roofing sloped down, decreasing the chances of it caving in.
Walking past an open garden, with wooden benches and trees. I spot a familiar face on one of the benches and walk up to the man.
"Mr. Dunam!" I call out, startling him. Upon getting closer, I continue, "I wanted to thank you again for your help at the gate last week. That guard never gives me a break." I spoke with a bit of resentment in my voice.
I stick out my hand, intending for him to take it. He absentmindedly stared at it for a few seconds, and only when he didn't grab it did I pull my arm back.
He simply responds with an animalistic grunt. Taking that as the end of the conversation, I awkwardly turn away, heading back toward my work.
Shaking off the odd feeling of the encounter, I turn my attention back to my surroundings. The many taverns, food market stalls, and winter clothing stores everywhere made it feel like I jumped forward in time a bit.
The difference in pure spectacle between the Lower and Middle Districts was night and day. I only wish I could show my little sister this, but unfortunately, my worker's permit doesn't allow requests for guest passes.
With the light atmosphere, the rest of the walk to the cafe was relaxing for once. With the harsh, cutting wind blocked by the tall buildings, and the warmth that spread from the warming pits and street lights, which only grew in number the farther in the Middle District, I went.
To warm up, I stood by a warming pit, taking my hands out of my pockets and putting them by the fire. Mesmerized by the flames, I tried to enjoy the warmth. There were a few others around the pit as well, and failing to ignore them, I overheard their conversation.
"Did you hear? A merchant tycoon was killed in his home last night." One man said.
"I did! The rumor is that he scammed a powerful industrialist in the Service District, who paid a group of men to kill him." The woman next to me responded.
A third person jumped in, "That so?! I heard it was an elite group of assassins from another Kingdom. Apparently, they had a falling out with the merchant years ago, and they finally came back for revenge!"
The first man spoke again, "Oh please. Not you and your 'Oston's Boogeyman' again. I've had enough of your fairytales…"
'Oston's Boogeyman' sounds like an eventful story. Clearly made up, though. That man doesn't know what he's talking about.
Feeling their gazes on me, I glanced in their direction with the corner of my eyes, catching the looks on their faces. One had a look of repulsion, the other of loathing, and the last was trying not to make direct eye contact.
They leaned in close and spoke in each other's ears, the word 'inish' bouncing around other fun words. Practically jumping out of their mouths like it was a requirement for them to say.
Way to spoil the mood.
I left the warming pit and walked past a particularly mean-looking woman giving me a look of disgust.
'Inish' is a term created by people with massive superiority complexes. A mix of invaluable and 'Wisher', meant to insult someone who has a weak Will and no capabilities. 'Wisher' is the term used in formal settings to describe children with a Low-Will, normally in schools. With my age and Will's presence, my weakness isn't an understatement. It's people like me who live in the Lower District, so it's no wonder they look at me with disgust. They think of us as useless.
With my family's life my responsibility, after our father passed away, I can't risk going into the wilds looking for a stronger Will Beast to hunt. But that's the funny part, isn't it? Everyone's strength comes from an external factor. You're either rich and were given a strong Beast to inherit its Will, or got lucky stumbling across one.
If only the world cared about the little guy.
With my thoughts focused inward, I forgot to concentrate on where I was going. Luckily, I walked in the right direction by instinct. Despite my short employment here.
Looking up, I smiled at the familiar green-lettered brown sign of my boss's cafe. 'OCC', Oston's Coffee Café. Or, as I liked to read it, 'Oston's Crazy Café' — the craziest cafe in the kingdom of Oston, as my boss is a little… eccentric.
Not exactly on the sane side.
"At least I didn't think he was." I whispered to myself.
The door opened with a ring from the bell above, which was immediately drowned out by a man calling out from inside, before both my feet were even through the door. "Rin, my boy!"
The man, my boss Asher, was wearing a simple white button-down collared shirt, with black dress pants and a pair of thin brown boots. He is a pale man of tall stature with a lean build, and he has bigger-than-average hands. He carries a trimmed beard that doesn't go far from the roots. A defined nose that's a bit crooked, like he's been hit one too many times. He has narrow eyes like he's always grinning, and bushy eyebrows to match. With long, dark-brown hair that goes down to his jaw, but at the moment, he has it clipped back behind his ears for work. Out of work, he lets it hang down.
I walked over to the fireplace on the other end of the room and knelt next to it. Letting out a yawn after feeling the warmth, "Mor-in-g, Asher."
Asher was currently drying a mug at the counter sink, which he undoubtedly used to have a drink.
"Common, ma boy! It's not even 7 o'clock yet."
"Unlike me, you didn't wake up at 3 this morning," I explained to him.
"Bah, the time one wakes from their slumber is relative. Did you get the proper amount of sleep? Is the real question."
"Dunno," I replied. "I don't have a clock in my home. My mom woke me up." I continued.
"Ah, mothers. Always reliable." He said like he were reminiscing. "Now! Enough of this idle chatter. Get your uniform on. We're opening soon." He practically swatted me away to the back.
Walking into the back room for employee storage and changing, I took my coat off and hung it up on one of the racks. Pulled my hanging uniform from nearby and changed. Taking no longer than a minute, I finally looked myself over in the mirror.
I only checked the mirror to fix my disheveled hair, but even with the untidiness, I didn't have the energy today.
'While your hair may not be what attracts customers, looking good could bring em back.' My boss's voice rang in my mind.
'Or just your coffee and pastries.' I always say back.
The uniform I wore was a simple heavy-weight, white linen long-sleeve shirt, tucked underneath black linen trousers, with a brown apron overtop.
After looking myself over in the mirror for several seconds too long, I made my way back out to the main cafe floor.
The cafe was small but quaint, with light-coloured wooden tables and chairs lining the walls, while a few small round tables stood on the open floor. Paintings of mountainous ranges and open fields from Asher's travels as a Voyager filled the dark brown elmwood walls. The chairs were all adorned with soft seat cushions made of a variety of pelts from Will Beasts he's killed over the years. His essence personalized the entire building.
If only he could give me at least a Mid Beast-Will. Sweeping my gaze over the walls. Exhaling wistfully.
Perhaps as a promotion?
The counter, separating the workers and the customers, matched the dark wood aesthetic of the wall, with shelves blocked by glass to allow customers to see our pastry options. The room is illuminated by standard factory light artifacts, made with the Will of Light Holders. The same thing the street lights are made of.
The world is run by these powers.
Behind us was a wall-length shelf that held all our freshly made desserts and all sorts of machines used to heat the coffee and add flavors, with the kitchen on the other side. The pastries are made by Asher and other bakers before and throughout the day.
Sometimes, if my boss lets me, I'll bring a coffee home, with almost everything I can add to it, and give it to my mother and sister. Though it's never been warm when I get it to them, they still enjoy the bitter, sugar-rich drink.
"Good, you finally came out. Cause we're about to open." Asher's voice rises up from my right.
Tossed out of my daze, "Y-yeah."
Asher's voice suddenly goes a pitch higher, "Yur hair! You look like you wrestled a Beast on yur way over! Which I know is impossible, cause you'd lose."
His voice changes to a pitch resembling teasing, "Though your hair may not be what attracts customers, looking good could bring em back." He said like clockwork, laughing to himself.
"Or just your coffee and pastries."
He gave me a knowing grin. "You know. Ever since you started working here, more academy girls have started shown' up."
I waved away his remark with a grunt.
And they would all run and scream if they knew I lived in the Lower District.
That's the one thing I like about this uniform. I don't look poor, and out of place. I look like I belong in the Middle District.
'You belong, wherever you make yourself belong,' My mother's voice came into my head. The first thing she advised me, consolingly, after I told her about the looks I got in the Middle District. Nice thought, but I can't agree with it.
"You eaten?" Asher walked towards the front door.
"Not yet."
"Grab yurself a pastry from behind the counter. Yur lookin' thinner by the week." Asher grabbed the store sign and flipped it from 'Closed' to 'Open'.
"Thanks."
Taking a carb-loaded cookie with raisins, I popped it in my mouth just as I got settled at my spot behind the ordering counter. Almost immediately, someone walked in, following the ring of the bell.
"Aa-wwa?" I called out, surprised.
Pulling down her hood as she walked in, her freshly washed light-brown hair reflected the light from the light artifacts. Tied up in a messy bun, she shakes it out before walking towards the counter. Two strands fall around the sides of her head, almost blending in with the colour of her skin. Her head, now looking like a mushroom, bobs up and down with each step. The strands of hair at the sides of her head swaying as she walks.
Even after living in the Middle District for 5 years, she has kept her disregard for something as trivial as hair management.
"Rin! Hi," she said in her usual cheery voice
Taking a big bite out of the cookie and quickly swallowing, I greet my friend properly. "Sorry. Hey, Ava."
Ava is my good friend, my only friend really. She used to live in the Lower District near me, but once her father attained a Decent-Will through a promotion, they got permission to move into the Middle District. After that, we saw less of each other. She's even attending a good school here.
"I came for coffee, to go." She smiles at me, her lips practically reaching her eyes. Her round, tadpole-like, eyebrows angled up just like her smile.
"This early in the morning, and you already need coffee?" I asked curiously with a hint of teasing.
"I was up almost all night. It's near the end of the year, and exams are coming up. Now, don't be too eager to congratulate me, buuut," Extending the word like I was meant to drumroll. "My father has just attained a High Earth-Will through his job overseeing construction on the North side of the Service District! And, with my grades, we could be eligible for residence in the Upper District!" She made a show of throwing up her arms in grandeur.
"That's great." I said with as much enthusiasm as I could manage. A pang of envy enveloping me.
She continued speaking as I made her coffee, talking about her father and his amazing contributions to construction with his Earth Will and Sub-Attribute Metal Will. I could only manage to respond with the occasional, "That's cool," or "Wow."
Finally, I finished her coffee and handed it to her as I collected her payment. She wished me a final goodbye and promised to see me later before leaving.
"It's like she's oblivious to the struggle of others." Asher spoke from my left, with disappointment in his voice.
I didn't respond. I was in my head too much. If only my father hadn't…
My thoughts trailed off.
The day went by like any other, working here. The early morning was met with adults grabbing a quick drink and snack before heading off to work. Early afternoon was the rush of nearby students coming for the sugar, during their break. Some, of course, flirted with me, earning me a sly look from Asher. I took my break during the mid-afternoon downtime and ate a sandwich from the store across the street.
Surprisingly, when I was wiping the table during a less busy time, Mr. Dunam walked through the door. He looked around, taking in the place and eyeing a young woman reading the paper, with a coffee in hand. Until he spotted me, giving me an uncomfortably long stare down with a hint of relief in his eyes.
After getting out of his reverie, Mr. Dunam walked up to the counter where Asher was standing and looked at him expectantly.
Eventually, Asher spoke, "Well? Whatchu want? This ain't a window-shoppin' gig. Either point somethin' out or getchyur creepy ass out."
Mr. Dunam stared, not even acknowledging the meaning behind Asher's words, before turning to the table with the woman and pointing at the coffee in her hand.
"Th… the-that." He said plainly.
"M'kay." Asher replied. Quickly making his drink before handing it to him.
Mr. Dunam grabbed the drink and merely walked off, out of the building, before Asher could even stop him.
"Hey! Yu're supposed to pay for th… Ass hole." Asher yelled, before mumbling something to himself about a 'changing kingdom and bastards.'
Not long after that fiasco was the late afternoon rush, with students coming in for a quiet place to study; that wasn't their library, cause why read books when you can eat snacks?
With the occasional drunk woman, or 'sweets lover' as I called them, coming in to vent their love life to a handsome man like Asher. Earning him a sly look from me.
It wasn't until we almost closed that a man in a thick jacket with his hood up walked through the door. When Asher saw him, he made a show of checking the sugar jar and told me to go to the back to fill it. A little confused, I looked at him, then back at the stranger. Finally, with a long sigh, I complied with his order, grabbing the jar, which was more than half full, and headed for the back.
I took my sweet time, not wanting to intrude on something that had nothing to do with me. After what was an unnecessarily long time to fill a sugar jar, I headed back. Just before I was about to turn the corner, I heard the two still talking. Deciding not to make things weird by exposing myself, I leaned against the wall, waiting for things to finish.
The stranger's voice — a man's, I acknowledged — was not too deep, but with a bit of a higher pitch that indicated him as someone young. About my age, 16.
"The Lord requests it." The man says.
'Boss's secret love child?' I thought mischievously.
"And by 'Lord,' you mean daddy. And by 'requests', you mean demands. I know m'brother, thank you. The scoundrel he is." Asher shot back.
Not Boss's secret love child, I confirmed with myself.
"You speak of my father as if he is some dishonorable man." Earning the stranger a snort of amusement from Asher. "However, your relationship with him, uncle, I am merely the messenger. I will be back in a few days to retrieve you."
With the stranger finished with the conversation, he promptly leaves in a hurry.
Not wanting to pressure Asher on the abnormal conversation I just heard, I let it be for the day. Luckily, the store was just about to close anyway. Whether because no one was coming in, or because of the conversation with the stranger, Asher closed a bit early for the night.
Heading for the door of the cafe after changing back into my clothes, Asher wished me a good night.
"This won't affect my pay for the day, will it?" I asked with a grin.
Asher replied with a twisted smile, "No, it won't. Little shi-" Slamming the door shut, not letting him finish.
"Good."
With another day down, that was slightly more eventful than the others, I was ready to crash into a bed for the night. Making my way toward the nearest, and cheapest, inn I'll be staying at for the next week, I enjoyed the scenery of the early evening aesthetics.
The orange-red horizon in the background of the buildings was like a painting. The light from the streetlight artifacts reflected off the many windows, and the glamouring reflections off the metal signs on some shops.
I cut through alleyways and back roads to get to the inn as fast as possible. When I was almost at the inn, a couple more blocks down, I heard a scream from behind.
'A man?' I thought.
Not caring enough to worry about something so far away, I continued my walk.
It wasn't until I heard it again, much closer this time, that I stopped to look back.
"Beast! in the district!" The man yelled out.
'Beast? The guards'll handle it.'
Continuing my walk, only stopping to look back a few times.
"Guaaards!"
It's super close now!
When the guards get there, it'll be a nice show. I was hesitant to make my way there, but eventually, curiosity got the better of me.
Curiosity killed the cat, I reprimanded.
But satisfaction brought it back, I reassured myself.
Just a quick peek.
As I turned the corner, which I was sure the yelling was coming from, a man appeared, sprinting right into me. Thankfully, we didn't fall to the floor.
Surprisingly, he looked a lot like me. He was wearing a similar, thick, dark grey jacket, with dark-red string highlighted along the pockets, and he wore a thick hood. While I used to have a hood, it is just the lining after the thicker part got ripped off. Now, it just sticks straight up like a high collar.
He even had the same length of blond hair, though his was more filled out with colour, and alive, from better eating habits. All in all, not too bad. Missed the mark on the looks, though.
Where are the guards, though?
Before I got too focused on his looks, a shadow moved from behind him, barely illuminated by the light.
Is that a guard?
It was fast. In a split second, it went from ten meters away to jumping on us with razor-sharp claws reaching for the man. Out of pure fright, I pushed the man to the ground, attempting to gain a boost in preparation to dash away. Before I could even fully turn around, I was hit by a force so jarring from the side that my vision went dark.
When I came to, it felt colder on the ground, and it was like the wind had suddenly picked up. Before I even opened my eyes, I felt the icy sting of snowflakes falling on my skin. When I finally had the strength to open my eyes, I stood up and looked around.
What!?
I… wasn't in the Middle District anymore. I wasn't even in the kingdom anymore… I don't think. All the buildings were gone, and the lights from the lighting artifacts were gone as well.
Instead, everything was replaced with the natural vista of a forest. Trees surrounded me, the snow was up to my shins, and the cold blizzard wind was painful. It wasn't dark, but it wasn't bright either. Like the snowstorm was creating a natural glow that kept things illuminated in my vicinity while getting foggier the farther away I looked.
I could hear a high-pitched wail like a reverberating siren in the distance.
That sound is not the wind. The Beast?!
Before I could even stand back up, I was, again, smacked from the side with enough force to jolt my bones. I fell down a slight decline, and then, black.