Avelora was a beautiful city.
It sat along the coast of Sozambeque, where the buildings stretched from the shoreline towards the greener hills inland. White walls and rooftops caught the afternoon sunlight, while narrow streets wound between cafés, small shops and houses packed closely together. Flowers grew from window boxes, washing hung between balconies, and the salty smell of the sea seemed to reach every corner of the city.
It was the kind of place where people rarely needed a reason to spend time outside. Down by the harbour, a group of citizens stood around a fishing boat, watching as two men hauled a net from the water. "Oh, I've got it!" one of them shouted. "Come on! Bring it to us! "The net rose higher. Water poured through its gaps as several fish thrashed inside.
"YES! WE CAUGHT IT! HA HA HA!" The people around them erupted into cheers. One man held up the biggest fish for everyone to see, while another immediately began arguing that he deserved the first portion. Not far from the harbour, a football match was taking place on a patch of open grass. A few children had gathered around the makeshift pitch, their school bags abandoned near the edge.
"Pass me the ball!" A boy received it and pushed forward, weaving between two defenders. "SHOOOOOT!" He kicked. The ball sailed towards the goal. "GOOOOOOAL!" his teammates rushed towards him, celebrating as though they had just won a championship. The opposing team protested that the goalkeeper had been distracted, but nobody seemed particularly interested in listening.
Life continued around them. Shopkeepers called out to passing customers, couples walked along the waterfront, and old friends stopped in the street to catch up. Avelora had its problems, like every city. But for many of its citizens, those problems could wait until tomorrow. There was something special about the way life moved here. The sea, the hills, the trees and the warm air that travelled through its streets. Even the smallest things seemed to have their own place in the world.
Of course, not everyone appreciated that.
In fact, one resident barely noticed any of it. "Brush, brush, brush, brush..."Lucian leaned towards the bathroom mirror, inspecting his teeth. He brushed one side, then the other, before running his tongue across them to check for anything he might have missed. He rinsed his mouth and examined his reflection again.
"My teeth are looking fresh." He gave himself a small nod. his clothes were neatly arranged. His shirt sat properly beneath his jacket, his tie was straight, and his dark trousers had no visible creases. He ran a hand over his hair, then checked his appearance from another angle.
Everything looked right. Almost everything. Lucian lowered his gaze towards his shoes. a crease ran across the leather near the toe. He stared at it. "...No." He crouched to inspect it more closely, pressing his thumb against the material as though he could somehow force the crease to disappear. "Dammit. Now I have to get new shoes."
He stood up and returned his attention to the mirror. His hair was a deep violet, layered and slightly spiky, with a few strands refusing to settle into place. He gathered the longer sections at the back, working them into a bun. He checked the mirror. One strand was sticking up. Lucian tilted his head. He pressed it down with his fingers. It rose again.
"What the hell? Go down already." He tried again, smoothing it against the rest of his hair. For a moment, it stayed where he wanted it. Then it lifted. Lucian's expression tightened. "Go down." He pressed harder. "GO DOWN!" The strand sprang back up. "Oh, my days." He stepped away from the mirror and took a breath. He could leave it. It was only one strand. Nobody else would care.
But he would notice it. And once he noticed it, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. Lucian returned to the mirror and tried one last time. The result was no different. He stared at the stubborn strand for several seconds. "Fine. "He reached for a pair of scissors. A few moments later, the strand was gone.
Lucian examined his hair from the front, the side and the back. He adjusted the bun, checked the position of his tie, then checked it again. Only when he was satisfied did he finally leave the bathroom. He grabbed his school bag and glanced at the clock.
"Shit. I'm going to be late." For someone who disliked almost everything about school, Lucian certainly wasn't fond of arriving late. The streets were already busy by the time Lucian reached the school.
Avelora's schools were scattered throughout the city, many of them built near parks or residential streets. His was a large building with pale stone walls, wide windows and a courtyard surrounded by trees. Students gathered near the entrance, some finishing their breakfasts, others talking about the previous evening's football match. As Lucian approached the gates, he noticed a small crowd gathered near the courtyard.
There was shouting. Then another voice. "WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?" Lucian slowed down. Two boys were arguing in the middle of the courtyard. One had his hands clenched while the other was being held back by a couple of students.
"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO STARTED IT!" Lucian looked at his watch. 8:27. He looked towards the entrance. 8:28. Then back at the boys. "...Seriously?" He approached the crowd. "What's going on?" One of the boys turned towards him. "Stay out of it, Lucian." "Why are you fighting?" "Because this idiot—" "That's not what I asked." The other boy interrupted. "He was supposed to meet me twenty minutes ago! He just showed up and started acting like nothing happened!" Lucian stared at him.
"Twenty minutes?"
"Yeah!"
"And you?"
The first boy looked away.
"I had something to do."
Lucian's expression changed.
"You had something to do?"
"Yeah, so?"
Lucian checked his watch again.
"Do you understand how long twenty minutes is?"
Both boys looked at him.
"People have places to be. Things to do. Schedules to follow. If you agree to meet someone at a certain time, you show up at that time."
"Bro, what are you even talking about?"
"And you," Lucian continued, pointing towards the other boy. "If you're going to fight someone, at least make sure you have a valid reason."
The boy frowned.
"He wasted my time!"
"And now you're wasting everyone else's."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then one of the boys pushed past the other.
"Whatever. I'm done with this."
He walked away, muttering under his breath.
The other boy followed shortly afterwards.
Lucian watched them leave before looking at the surrounding students.
"Honestly. People have no sense of punctuality."
A familiar voice came from behind him.
"Lucian!"
He turned.
Inês Moura approached with a smile.
"Good morning, my dear."
"Morning."
She glanced towards the boys disappearing into the building.
"What happened?"
"Nothing important. Just people who don't know how to manage their time."
Inês laughed.
"Of course. And here I thought you were going to save the school."
"Well, someone has to maintain standards around here."
She shook her head, still smiling.
They walked through the gates together.
Inês was one of the most popular girls in their year. She seemed to know everyone, and even people who had never spoken to her were quick to recognise her. She had a way of making ordinary conversations feel interesting, and she rarely walked through the school without someone greeting her. Lucian, on the other hand, attracted attention for different reasons. A pair of boys standing near the entrance watched them approach.
"Psst. Is that Lucian?"
The other boy followed his gaze.
"Yeah. That's him for sure."
"How is he with the most popular girl in school? It's not fair."
A third student joined the conversation, looking Lucian up and down.
"Look at his hair. It's purple now. It used to be grey, didn't it?"
"Maybe that's why she's walking with him."
"Does anyone even know what his actual hair colour is? Does he?"
The boys laughed among themselves.
Lucian continued walking, apparently unaware of their conversation. Inês, however, noticed their attention. She glanced around the courtyard before turning towards him. "Lucian, my dear, why is everyone staring at us? Do you think they're jealous?" Lucian looked towards the students. A few quickly turned away. "Maybe," he replied. "It's strange, though. I haven't done anything." Inês gave him an amused look. "Look at him. Yes, they're jealous. They aren't as handsome as you."
Lucian smiled. "Well, I can't blame them for trying." They continued towards the main building. A breeze moved through the courtyard, lifting a few loose leaves from the ground and sending them tumbling across the path. The branches above them swayed gently, filling the air with a soft rustling sound. Students passed in both directions. Some hurried towards their classrooms, while others lingered outside, unwilling to give up the last few minutes of freedom before lessons began.
Lucian and Inês entered the building together. The school day passed much like any other. Lessons, conversations, the scraping of chairs against classroom floors and the constant noise of students trying to talk when they were supposed to be working. Lucian wasn't particularly interested in his education. He attended because he was expected to, although his attention rarely remained on the teacher for very long.
Occasionally, he'd glance towards the windows. From his seat, he could see the tops of the trees outside moving in the breeze. Sometimes, he'd find himself watching the leaves for several minutes before realising he had completely lost track of the lesson. Inês was a few desks away. Every so often, she turned around to exchange a comment with him, usually about something happening in the classroom.
By the final lesson, the afternoon sunlight had shifted across the desks. Then the bell rang. Chairs scraped backwards. Bags were lifted from the floor, and students began pouring into the corridors. Lucian packed his things and met Inês outside. "Are you coming to the group today?" he asked as they walked towards the gates. Inês slowed slightly. "Probably not."
Lucian glanced at her. "Why?" She hesitated. "I don't know. I've just been thinking about some things." "What things?" Inês looked down at the pavement. Lucian sighed. "You're not having doubts again, are you?" She didn't answer. He looked ahead. "We're getting closer every day to Salvador Neves and his money. Once we get it, we'll all be rich."
He spoke with the confidence of someone who had already imagined the result. The money, the opportunities, the things he could finally afford. It all seemed close enough to reach. Inês finally spoke. "I just... don't feel good about working to rob people, okay?" Lucian's expression changed. He looked at her for a moment before lowering his gaze as well. "Alright." They continued walking. Inês seemed to expect him to argue, but he didn't.
After a little while, Lucian spoke again. "But I hope someday you'll come to realise this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." "Lucian..." "I'm serious. Think about it." He looked towards her. "We could finally have enough money to do whatever we want. No worrying about tomorrow, no worrying about how much something costs. Isn't that what everyone wants?" Inês didn't respond immediately. Perhaps she understood what he meant. Perhaps she even wanted some of the same things. But that didn't mean she agreed with how he intended to get them. They reached the school gates. Lucian stopped.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow." Inês gave him a small smile. "Bye, Lucian. In a while." He watched her leave before turning in the opposite direction. The afternoon breeze followed Lucian through the streets. He passed a small bakery, where the smell of freshly baked bread drifted through the open doorway. A shopkeeper was arranging fruit outside his store, and two children raced each other along the pavement.
Further down the road, a football rolled into the street. Its owner chased after it, apologising to a passing cyclist. Lucian barely glanced at any of it. He was thinking about money. It wasn't difficult to understand why. Lucian hadn't always lived the way he did. A few months earlier, he'd left home, determined to make his own decisions and live without depending on anyone else. The problem was that independence wasn't free. Rent, food, clothes, transport. Even the smallest things required money, and Lucian quickly discovered that wanting a different life didn't mean he could afford one.
He needed work. He wasn't particularly interested in finding something respectable, nor did he have the patience to spend months searching for the perfect opportunity. So, when someone from the group offered him a way to make money through dealing drugs, he accepted. It had been a few months since he started.
At first, he'd treated it as a temporary arrangement. Something to keep him financially comfortable until he found a better opportunity. But money had a way of changing how he looked at things. The more he earned, the more he wanted. And the group had bigger ambitions than simply selling drugs. Salvador Neves was the real prize. His wealth was on another level entirely, and the group had been gradually working towards getting their hands on it.
Lucian saw it as an opportunity to leave his old life behind completely. settle for earning enough to get by when he could become rich? He wasn't going to let something like that slip away. Eventually, he reached the building where the group operated. It wasn't particularly impressive from the outside. An ordinary building tucked between other businesses, easy to overlook if you didn't know what went on inside.
Lucian paused outside and looked down at his clothes. His tie had shifted slightly. He straightened it. Then he adjusted it again. He checked the knot, pulled it a fraction tighter, and smoothed the front of his shirt. He looked at the reflection in the glass entrance. Something was uneven. He fixed it. A few seconds passed. He checked again. Only when he was satisfied did he open the door and step inside. Another shift. Another step towards the money. Another ordinary day in Avelora.
I used to think there was nothing special about the world.
Every day looked the same. People woke up, went to work, went home and repeated the same routines until the days eventually became years.
Everyone wanted something. Money, happiness, recognition, love. It seemed like the entire world was built around people chasing things they could never quite reach.
I couldn't understand what made any of it worth caring about.
I thought I'd seen enough of the world to understand it.
I was wrong.
There was a beauty in the world that I'd never noticed. Something that existed in the smallest moments, in places I'd passed a thousand times without giving them a second thought.
It wasn't another Earth, nor another world hidden among the stars.
It was the same world I'd always known.
I simply hadn't learned how to see it.
And this is the story of how I did.