I was so scared I couldn't sleep. Finally, I decided to go to the church and pray. Before I left, my father asked, "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to the church",to pray. The nightmares won't leave me."
He didn't look convinced, but he let me go. The street air bit at my face as I hurried through town, every shadow feeling like it wanted to swallow me whole.
Halfway there, a commotion broke out. A skinny kid bolted from a shop clutching a loaf of bread. He darted past me and shoved the blame onto the nearest easy target—me. People shouted. A merchant pointed. Voices rose like knives.
"Thief!" someone yelled.
I didn't stop to argue. I ran.
They chased me through the alleys, boots pounding and curses spitting behind me. Panic made my legs move faster than they ever had. Ahead, a tall wall cut off the street—a grey, stone thing that looked impossible to climb. I could hear them getting closer. The only thing that mattered was escaping.
Even with my tired body and trembling strength, I didn't hesitate. I ran, leaped, and felt the world stretch as I sailed over the wall.
I landed hard on the other side, breath burning, heart hammering. For a second, I thought I'd made it—until I heard a voice behind me, low and amused.
"Well done," it said. "But running never solves what's inside."
I froze.
I turned toward the voice. My breath caught in my throat.
It was the Duke.
He stood there like a statue carved from stone, his cloak trailing behind him, eyes sharp and intense as blades. For a moment, I couldn't breathe beneath the weight of his gaze.
"You…" his voice rumbled, low and heavy. "You look like a noble. Why were you running?"
At first, I thought about lying. Maybe I could make up a story and trick him somehow. But under those eyes, the words died in my throat. There was no tricking someone like him.
"I…" My voice cracked. "I'm just a commoner, my lord. I got blamed for something I didn't do. That's all."
Silence.
The Duke's expression didn't change. He just stared at me, and the longer it lasted, the more ashamed I felt. My chest tightened as I dropped to my knees.
"Please," I said, my voice shaking. "Forgive me. I won't repeat the mistake again, I promise."
The air hung still. Then, finally, the Duke exhaled softly, almost a sigh.
"I will let this one slide," he said at last. "But only once, kid. Don't waste it."
Relief crashed over me like a wave.
"Yes, my lord. Thank you!"
He turned away, his cloak whispering against the ground. "Leave," he commanded without looking back.
And I did. I didn't wait another second.
Then
I went to church to pray. While I was praying to the gods, the priest came up, patted my head, and said, "Poor soul. Don't stress — God will make things right, kid." I was grateful for the advice.
On my way home, I saw kids playing with glowing things, like they were controlling magic. I was amused until one of them noticed me. "Look at that commoner," he sneered. "I bet the first one to make him cry gets to ride with me to the royal palace."
They started pointing their fingers at me. At first, I thought they were going to perform a trick, but then a girl with crimson-red hair — beautiful, goddess-like — stepped forward. Her face looked kind at first, and then I saw disgust in her eyes. She mouthed something and launched a powerful spell that sent me over the bridge and into the river below.
Luckily, the river ran straight toward my neighborhood. When I got home I lied and told my parents I'd been swimming so they wouldn't worry. The lie tasted bitter. I lay down but passed out. In the dark, I dreamed of lines wrapping around me, binding me like threads. Everything felt half-dream, half-reality. A voice whispered, "Don't worry. Your time will come." I woke up, soaked in sweat.
Then.
My dad came and patted my head. "Let's go to the river — we'll catch some fish," he said. I agreed. We walked down to a quiet bend and settled under a wide, shady tree. The river whispered over stones, and for a while, we sat in easy silence, the kind that only comes with someone who knows you without asking.
After a while, he said, "You haven't been sleeping well these past two nights." I laughed it off, but he didn't look convinced. He watched me with those tired, steady eyes and finally said, "I know this world is cruel, even without contracts." His voice was soft, like the current beside us.
"I know," I replied.
He put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't carry everything alone. It'll break you." There was no lecture in it — just a quiet advice from a man who had seen enough. We stayed until the sun leaned toward the trees, then packed our things and went home.
Once we were inside, he handed me a small pill. "This will help you sleep," he said simply. I swallowed it, and this time, the sleep that came was deep and complete — the kind I hadn't known in days...
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