Kevin's hands tightened around the rough wooden handle of the axe. He lifted it high above his head, then brought it down with all his strength. The sharp blade bit deep into the piece of wood with a loud cracking sound. The log split cleanly into two pieces. They fell to the ground on either side of the chopping block.
Sweat ran down Kevin's face in little rivers. It dripped from his chin and soaked into his worn shirt. The shirt was old and had several patches on it. He wiped his wet forehead with the back of his hand and kept working.
The sun was climbing higher in the sky now. He had started his work before dawn, when the air was still cool and fresh. Now the heat of the day pressed down on him like a heavy blanket. The pile of cut wood beside him grew slowly, piece by piece.
His arms ached with a deep tiredness. His back ached from bending over again and again. But Kevin kept swinging the axe. This was his job. This was how he survived.
Three months. That was how long he had been working here at the Red Moon Hotel. Three months of cutting wood, carrying water, cleaning stables, and doing whatever other work the owner needed done. The pay was thirty gray stones each month. It was not much money. But it was enough.
Enough to buy food. Enough to keep a roof over their heads. Enough for him and his little sister to survive one more month.
Kevin was ten years old. His sister Emma was seven years old. They had no parents. No family except each other. Just two kids trying to stay alive in a world that did not care about them.
He stopped for a moment to stretch his sore shoulders. The wood pile was almost as tall as he was now. Maybe another hour of work and he would be done for the morning.
Kevin looked around the work yard. It was quiet today. The other workers had not arrived yet. The stable boy was probably still asleep. The kitchen staff would not start cooking until later.
Good. Kevin liked it when things were quiet. It meant no one would bother him. No one would shout at him or tell him he was doing something wrong. He could just work in peace.
He picked up the axe again and went back to cutting wood.
Kevin had learned a lot in the past two years. Hard lessons. Painful lessons.
He learned that people judged you by how you looked. If your clothes were dirty and patched, they saw you as trash. If your face was smudged with dirt, they looked away. If you smelled like sweat and hard work, they wrinkled their noses.
He learned that rich people could do anything they wanted. They could hit you. They could spit on you. They could take your food or your money or your dignity. And no one would stop them.
He learned that showing weakness was dangerous. If you cried, they laughed. If you complained, they hit you harder. If you looked them in the eye, they took it as an insult.
So Kevin learned to be invisible. He kept his head down. He spoke only when spoken to. He did his work and stayed out of everyone's way.
In the city, it had been worse. Much worse.
Kevin still remembered the day a well-dressed man had slapped him across the face. Hard. Just because Kevin had accidentally looked at him. The man's rings had cut Kevin's cheek. Blood had run down his face. The man had laughed and walked away.
No one had helped Kevin. No one had cared.
That was when he understood. The world was not fair. The world did not care about poor children with no family. If you wanted to survive, you had to be smart. You had to be careful. You had to know your place.
After that, Kevin had taken any work he could find. He washed dishes in taverns. He carried bags for travelers. He cleaned stables and swept floors. Anything that paid even a few gray stones.
But the city was expensive. Food cost too much. Rent was impossible. And the people who hired poor kids like him paid almost nothing.
So when he heard about work at a remote hotel outside the city, Kevin had jumped at the chance. The pay was better. The work was hard, but steady. And best of all, the hotel owner provided a small house for his workers to live in.
It was not much. Just one room with a dirt floor and a leaking roof. But it was theirs. Kevin and Emma did not have to sleep in alleys anymore. They did not have to worry about getting kicked out for not paying rent.
The Red Moon Hotel sat at the edge of the wasteland. This area was considered dirty and dangerous. Most respectable people avoided it. Only the desperate and the poor lived here.
But Kevin had noticed something strange. Rich people came to this hotel. Not many, but enough to make him wonder. Men in fine clothes. Women with expensive jewelry. People who clearly had money.
Why would they come here? To this dirty, remote place?
Kevin did not know. And he knew better than to ask questions. Questions got you in trouble. Questions made people suspicious. So he kept his mouth shut and did his work.
The Red Moon Hotel had another strange quality. The workers here were not treated badly. The owner, a quiet man named Master Thorne, did not allow harassment or violence. If anyone caused trouble, they were thrown out immediately.
This was almost unheard of. In most places, rich people could do whatever they wanted. But here, even the wealthy guests seemed to follow the rules.
Kevin did not understand it. But he was grateful for it.
He finished splitting another log and added the pieces to the pile. His hands were rough and calloused now. Three months of hard work had made them strong.
Kevin thought about Emma. She would be awake by now, probably making breakfast. Even though she was only seven, Emma was very mature for her age. She could cook simple meals. She could clean and wash clothes. She took care of their little house while Kevin worked.
It made Kevin sad sometimes. Emma should be playing with other children. She should be learning to read and write. She should have a normal childhood.
But normal was a luxury they could not afford. Emma understood that. She never complained. She just did what needed to be done.
Kevin knew he was lucky. Lucky to have this job. Lucky to have a place to live. Lucky that Emma was smart enough to take care of herself.
Thirty gray stones a month. That was their lifeline.
In this world, money was power. Money was survival. And money came in different forms.
Gray stones were the lowest. They were small crystals that held just a tiny bit of mana. Most poor people only ever saw gray stones. One gray stone could buy a loaf of bread or a cup of rice.
Black stones were worth more. One black stone equaled one hundred gray stones. Middle class people used black stones for bigger purchases. Kevin had only held a black stone once in his life, when a generous customer had given him one as a tip.
Blue stones were for the rich. One blue stone equaled one hundred black stones. Kevin had never touched a blue stone. He had only seen them from a distance, glittering on the fingers of wealthy merchants.
White stones were legendary. Also called mana stones, they were pure crystallized power. One white stone equaled one hundred blue stones. Kevin had never even seen a real white stone. Only the truly powerful possessed them.
This world ran on mana. Everything did. The powerful used mana to perform amazing feats. They could create fire from nothing. They could move objects with their minds. They could heal wounds or make plants grow instantly.
But mana was not free. You had to have the ability to channel it. And that ability came from something called key veins.
Kevin did not understand much about key veins. He only knew the basics that everyone learned.
Every human body had ten key veins hidden inside it. These veins were like channels that could carry mana through your body. But they were locked. Closed. Useless until you opened them.
The first key vein was called the Root Vein. It was located near the heart and was the foundation of everything. To become someone with power, you had to open your Root Vein first.
Opening a key vein required training, meditation, and mana stones. Lots of mana stones. Poor people like Kevin could never afford the resources needed to open even one vein.
Rich people could open several veins. The truly powerful could open all ten.
Kevin had heard stories about people who had opened all ten key veins. They were like living legends. They could destroy armies. They could flatten mountains. They were called Ten Vein Masters, and they ruled nations.
But those were just stories to Kevin. Distant dreams that had nothing to do with his life.
He was just a kid trying to survive. He had no mana. No power. No future beyond the next month's wages.
Kevin swung the axe again. The blade struck the wood with a solid thump. Sweat stung his eyes. His muscles burned.
But he kept working. Because that was what he did. That was all he could do.
The sun climbed higher. The work yard started to fill with activity. Other workers arrived. The kitchen chimney began to smoke. The smell of cooking bread drifted through the air.
Kevin's stomach growled. He ignored it. He would eat when his work was done.
A shadow fell over him. Kevin looked up.
Master Thorne stood there, watching him. The hotel owner was a tall man with gray hair and sharp eyes. He always dressed simply, in plain clothes that gave away nothing about his wealth or status.
Kevin stopped working and bowed his head respectfully. "Good morning, Master Thorne."
"Good morning, Kevin." Master Thorne's voice was calm and level. "You started early today."
"Yes, sir. There is a lot of wood to cut."
Master Thorne nodded. He looked at the pile Kevin had already made. "Good work. You are a hard worker, Kevin. I appreciate that."
Kevin kept his eyes down. Compliments made him nervous. They often came before bad news. "Thank you, sir."
"How is your sister?"
"She is well, sir. Thank you for asking."
"Good." Master Thorne was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Kevin, I have a different task for you today. After you finish the wood, come to my office."
Kevin's heart skipped a beat. A different task? That could mean anything. Extra work? A problem? Was he being let go?
"Yes, sir. I will come as soon as I finish."
Master Thorne walked away without another word.
Kevin stood there for a moment, worry eating at him. What did Master Thorne want? Had Kevin done something wrong? Was someone complaining about him?
No. He had been careful. He had stayed out of trouble. He had done his work well.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just another job.
Kevin forced himself to stop worrying. Worrying did not help. It only made you weak.
He picked up the axe and went back to work. The wood would not cut itself.
An hour later, Kevin finished. The wood pile was tall and neat. His arms felt like they were on fire. His back was one solid ache.
He put the axe away and washed his face and hands at the water barrel. The cold water felt good on his hot skin.
Then he walked to the main building and knocked on Master Thorne's office door.
"Come in."
Kevin opened the door and stepped inside. The office was simple. A desk, two chairs, a shelf with a few books. Nothing fancy.
Master Thorne sat behind the desk. He gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit down, Kevin."
Kevin sat. His hands were in his lap. His back was straight. He kept his face neutral.
"Relax," Master Thorne said. "You are not in trouble."
Kevin let out a breath he did not know he was holding. "Yes, sir."
Master Thorne studied him for a long moment. His sharp eyes seemed to see right through Kevin. It made Kevin uncomfortable, but he did not look away.
"You have been working here for three months," Master Thorne said. "In that time, you have never caused a problem. You do your work well. You are reliable. And you are smart."
Kevin did not know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
"I want to offer you a different position," Master Thorne continued. "The work will be harder. But the pay will be better. Fifty gray stones a month instead of thirty."
Fifty gray stones. That was almost double. Kevin's heart started to race. With that much money, he and Emma could eat better. They could save some. Maybe even buy new clothes.
But nothing was free. Better pay meant harder work. Or more dangerous work.
"What kind of work, sir?" Kevin asked carefully.
"Various tasks," Master Thorne said. "Sometimes it will be regular work like you do now. Sometimes it will be helping me with special projects. I need someone I can trust. Someone who does not ask too many questions. Someone who can follow instructions exactly."
Kevin understood. Master Thorne wanted someone loyal. Someone quiet. Someone who would do what they were told and not talk about it afterward.
That was fine with Kevin. He was already good at keeping his mouth shut.
"I can do that, sir," Kevin said.
Master Thorne smiled slightly. "I thought you might say that. You start tomorrow. For today, finish your usual work. Tomorrow, report to me in the morning."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Master Thorne waved his hand. "You can go."
Kevin stood, bowed, and left the office. He closed the door behind him and stood in the hallway for a moment.
Fifty gray stones a month. Twenty more than before. That was huge. That changed everything.
For the first time in a long time, Kevin felt something like hope.
Maybe things were finally getting better.
Maybe he and Emma would be okay.
Kevin walked back outside into the bright morning sun. He had more work to do before the day was done. But for now, just for this moment, he let himself feel good.
Life was still hard. The world was still cruel. But today, things were a little bit better.
And for Kevin, that was enough.
******