The walls of Etharyon rose like scars of stone against the clouded sky. Outside, fields of wheat swayed in the cold morning wind, but within the gates the city buzzed with voices, hammer strikes, and the clinking of coins. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the sharp smell of burned iron from the forges, and every street had its own song: merchants shouting their wares, religious chants, and the creaking of horse-drawn carts.
Kai walked slowly through the market, his hood covering his dark hair. Despite his ordinary appearance, his gray eyes hinted at a strange origin—too unusual to go unnoticed. People didn't look at him directly, yet there were always whispers behind him.
"— There goes the orphan from the southern quarter…" a woman murmured while arranging fruit in a basket.
"— He doesn't seem to be from here… I heard he never knew his parents," replied the man beside her.
Kai pretended not to hear. He had long since learned to live with rumors.
He carried a leather bag with a few stale loaves of bread, some herbs, and a whetstone. Nothing valuable. Nothing that would draw attention. He liked to believe he had become invisible, but he knew that in Etharyon, being invisible was a dangerous illusion.
His home stood in the lower part of the city, near the warehouses. A cramped room, damp walls, and a ceiling far too low. But it was enough. As he entered, he set the bag on the worn wooden table and sat down, his arms folded over his knees.
"Every day the same. Every day pretending to be someone I'm not. But… who am I, really?"
He looked toward the corner of the room. On a small improvised altar rested an unlit candle and a smooth stone marked with ancient runes. It was the only inheritance he carried—an object worthless to others, yet one that seemed to hold answers for him.
Answers that never came.
A knock sounded at the door. Dry, twice.
Kai rose, tense. He opened the door just enough to see the visitor.
"— Kai, are you going to work today, or are you going to keep hiding in this hole?" said a broad-shouldered young man with a mischievous grin. His name was Ronan, one of the few people who still spoke to him. He worked in the warehouses, hauling crates and earning a handful of coins.
"— I'm coming," Kai replied, dragging out the words.
"— Good. The master will skin us alive if we're short-handed. And hey, don't walk around with that ghost face. The city's already full of them."
Kai grabbed his coat and followed him.
The streets leading to the warehouses were narrower, filled with children running around and old men sitting on the steps, complaining about expensive food and taxes. Guards patrolled every corner, armed with spears and shields marked with the crown's emblem.
At the dry port, where goods were unloaded, work began early. Kai gripped the ropes and began lifting crates. Sweat quickly ran down his back, but the routine was familiar.
"— You don't talk much, do you, Kai?" Ronan remarked as they carried a heavier crate together. "You always seem like you're in another world."
Kai forced half a smile.
"— Maybe I am."
Ronan laughed, unaware of the weight behind those words.
By the end of the day, the sky was stained red. Kai said his goodbyes and returned through the same streets, finding the city even more alive than before. Priests chanted prayers in the central square. Beggars pleaded for coins. In the distance, the temple bell announced the coming of night.
Kai paused for a moment before the square. He watched people lighting candles, giving thanks for another day of life.
"For them, it's just routine. For me, it's always empty. As if I'm standing at the edge, waiting for something that never comes."
He left the square behind and returned to the dark room. Sitting before the rune-marked stone, he turned it slowly between his fingers. A distant melody echoed in his mind—something he could never quite remember in full.
In the silence, he murmured to himself:
"Who am I, really?"
The unlit candle gave no answer. Only the wind slipped through the cracks in the window, carrying with it the quiet omen that peace in Etharyon would not last forever.