Early in the morning, when the sun was swallowed by a thick, rolling mist, a thin boy with messy, dark brown hair and deep black eyes walked the cobblestone streets.
His name was Bernard; although most called him Bernie, he was only seventeen, yet his eyes held a hollow, despairing look.
He walked through the cobblestone street like a ghost, making almost no sound; his eyes weren't focused on anything, as if he was oblivious to his surroundings, his face contorted into a frown.
Walking through the streets, Bernard could still remember the scene of his eldest sister Adelaines' funeral, which had happened barely a few hours ago. She was taken away by an illness his family couldn't afford to treat. He could still remember her laboured breathing in her last moments; tears welled up in Bernard's eyes as he realised now all he had left of his family was his elder sister Alara and mother. His father had died in a war when he was barely two years old, and now his eldest sister, the woman who taught him how to speak, had passed away.
Because he was lost in the memories of his sister, the funeral, and her last moments, he didn't notice the man walking towards him. Slamming into the man, Bernard tumbled to the hard, wet cobblestone street, which snapped him out of his memories. Looking up, Bernard saw a man who stood out in the greyish fog.
He had an average-looking face, which was covered in wrinkles from old age and frowns; his hair was already turning grey. He wore a shiny half top hat with a black suit jacket covering the man's vest. In his suit jacket's pocket was a custom silver pocket watch with an engraving of a tree in the centre.
While Bernard was trying to get up from the slippery cobblestone street, in the corner of his eye, he saw the man's aged face looking down at him in a sneer filled with disdain, his piercing blue eyes staring at Bernard angrily. "POLICE HELP! THIS… THIS MONGREL TRIED ROBBING ME! "He shrieked out in outrage.
After a few minutes of the man screaming out, a shadowy blob appeared in the mist. Before pulling themself out of the mist, it was a man! He was middle-aged and had brownish-black hair with a few grey streaks within; his eyes were brown, which served to contrast the linen blue coat he was wearing. His hair was in disarray, signifying he had run as quickly as he could.
Oh great, I'm doomed... The police always favour the rich folk. Bernard felt like crying, but no tears would come out. Taking in a sharp breath, he quickly apologised to the man. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't notice where you were. With the fog and my sister's funeral, my mind wandered elsewhere. I'm really sorry." He spoke in a polite tone while bowing slightly.
The policeman's deep brown eyes looked between the frail kid on the floor and the obviously unharmed nobleman in the suit. Walking over to the noble, he asked a question quickly. "Are you sure this kid tried robbing you? He could've just not paid attention; I'm sure he didn't mean to disrespect you."
The man's face distorted into a hate-filled sneer. "That brat's bitch of a mother must teach him some lessons! Even if he didn't rob me, I demand you incarcerate him for at least a day!" He needs to be taught some manners."
Bernard's face distorted into an ugly expression, his mouth twitching slightly. We'll see whose the bitch when I – Bernard quickly stopped that train of thought as he realised getting into a street fight with a noble right in front of a police officer... It really wasn't a smart idea. Smiling self-deprecatingly inwardly, he walked over to the officer who had cuffs in his hand.
The policeman with brown eyes had a reluctant expression as he clicked the heavy iron cuffs onto Bernard's thin hands; he muttered silently to Bernard. "Sorry kid, can't risk offending the noble; got family n kids back at home. It'll be fine though, a day at most in the jail."
With those final words, the officer walked away into the greyish white fog, making sure to keep an eye on Bernard.
Biting his lip to stay silent and not release a torrent of curses at the noble, Bernard followed the police officer quietly as he walked into the greyish-white fog; the chains on his hand clinking every once in a while, focusing on nothing in particular, Bernard realised he would miss his mother's famous apple pie.
Walking along the streets, Bernard continued to occupy his mind with bizarre and random things until his thoughts were interrupted by the officer trying to make small talk. "So... what's your name, kiddo? "I'm Richard, Richard Gukil."
Bernard looked at the officer's back with an expression of dread; this officer was even more awkward at talking to people than he was! And that was an achievement at the officer's age! Chuckling at his own joke, he spoke quietly. "Bernard Cesimir, although most call me Bernie."
After Richard and Bernard had spoken a bit, they returned to the awkward silence, which made the walk to the police station feel like an eternity, pushing the awkwardness away with thoughts. Bernard realised his brown linen coat and his grey cotton vest below it were partly soaked from the tumble... My coat! Bernard's face turned unsightly. This was a gift from Adelaine... His eyes flashed with rage for a second before cooling down as he had heard Richard speak.
"We're here." He spoke while pulling a key from his trouser pockets, jingling as he pushed it into the lock of the station door, opening it with a small click.
Seeing the door open, Bernard quickly walked in to try to get away from the cold; his eyes twitched as he saw how the station had silver pipes running around. To his left, near a wall, was a small wooden desk with a lamp half the size of an adult's head, with a plume of flame within.
Sitting at the desk was a middle-aged man wearing the same type of blue linen coat. His eyes were a light grey; he had ginger hair and a small moustache on his face. He was quite rotund, his face a deep olive tone. In his hands was a stack of documents, some even scattered on the table. A nearly empty ink bottle and pen sat upon the table.
The man's face immediately brightened as he smiled at Richard, who had walked in, which dimmed slightly as he saw Bernard, whose clothes and face were caked in mud, walk in.
He stared at Bernad judgingly, probably assuming he was some homeless child who robbed a merchant or something.
Bernard locked eyes with him, which made the man look away after a few moments. Blimey, I fall into some mud, and now I get death stares! How horrible of these old men... Bernard almost pouted at how unfairly he was being treated; his eyes moved over to the back of the police station, which had a single cell with thick iron bars to block escape and an iron door to put someone in.
Sighing, Bernard walked over to the cell, having to wait for Richard to finish his small talk, which Bernard ignored stubbornly. Bernard leaned on one of the iron bars while waiting; after Bernard had almost fallen asleep, he heard the clacking of boots on the hardwood floor. Looking up while rubbing his eye, he saw Richard walking towards him.
"There's nothing we can do about it now, kiddo, sorry." Richard opened the cell door with an iron-looking key, his expression sombre; Bernard voluntarily walked in and sat down on the floor, which was a cold, grey stone instead of wood; frowning, he tried to the best of his efforts to try to remove his mud-covered coat.
Sitting in the cell, Bernard shivered from the cold, his teeth chattering from how frigid the cell was. Shaking his head, Bernard moved over to the furthermost wall from the entrance of the cell; laying his back against it, he started to relax. His mind was exhausted from the day, so he quickly fell asleep.
...
While Bernard was lying there against the wall, he seemed to have a nightmare as his face contorted into a grimace as sweat filled his face before he suddenly jerked awake, his eyes showing grief. Wiping away the sweat from his head, he rubbed his eye. What is that…? Bernard's mind was completely shocked, as in front of him was something unexplainable.
Goddess, please say I'm still asleep. I can't afford to fix any mental issues. Sigh, with that last thought, Bernard closed his eyes to sleep when he heard a ringing voice in his head. "I am no hallucination. Open your eyes, Bernard Cesimir." Now Bernard was a bit scared, after all... He didn't hear any sounds of talking.
Taking a deep breath, Bernard realised he was probably talking to a ghost; his eyes lit up with some hope as he opened them. "Are you the ghost of my dead sister!?" The disembodied voice vehemently disagreed. "No. I am not Adelaine Cesimir, nor am I a ghost. Now listen to me; I am giving you an opportunity to become powerful!"
Bernard looked at the empty space in front of him with a deadpan expression. "No thanks, uhh, disembodied totally not a ghost... Not interested." His eye was twitching with annoyance.
Suddenly, a flash of bluish white appeared in front of Bernard; a piece of coarse, white paper flew into his hand. It took a bit to read it since he was slightly illiterate, and his eyes opened wide... This must be one of those scams. Adelaine spoke about it! How dare this ghost try to scam me! They're already dead, yet they thirst after money... How broke were they when they were alive?
After that thought had passed through his brain, he tried talking... When he realised he couldn't speak, and his body wasn't moving as he wanted it to, a deep sense of terror emerged within him.
His black eyes shone with fear as he tried speaking again... "S-So... What was the offer...?" His tone was laced with fear.
"Ah... forget it; you're too stupid for the explanation anyway..." With that final comment, Bernard suddenly felt like he hadn't slept in years, his head crashing onto the cold stone wall, which would definitely leave a bump in the morning; blue light shone on Bernard's skin for a few moments before disappearing.