The clatter of cutlery and the low hum of conversation filled the dining hall as the children of Little Garden finished their supper. The food had been simple but delicious—a thick, hearty stew with fresh bread—and the atmosphere was a world away from the tense formality of the Ainsworth manor.

  Once everyone had finished eating, Sister Elodie stood, clapping her hands gently to get everyone’s attention, a warm smile on her face.

  “I hope you all enjoyed your meal. We will now have a fifteen-minute break, and then we will all meet in the main hall for the assignment of the daily chores. See you soon, my dears.”

  Hearing this, Pip looked up at me from my lap with a questioning tilt of her head. I just shrugged, then leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I have no idea if you have to help, and if you do, how. Maybe you could… hunt a few mice or rats?”

  Pip just gave me a look that could only be interpreted as a feline version of, “Are you serious right now?”

  Sighing, I stood up, the screech of my chair on the wooden floor seeming to trigger a chain reaction. One after another, the other children rose and began to file out of the dining hall. Arriving in the grand entrance hall, the children scattered in all directions—some heading upstairs, some out the front door for their last few minutes of playtime. Slowly but surely, the hall emptied, until Pip and I were left standing alone.

  Or so I thought.

  Arthur, the blind boy, emerged with careful, measured steps from the dining hall and made his way over to a bench that stood against a wall near the door, sitting down patiently. Did he wait on purpose? I wondered. Waited until the noisy crowd of children was gone so he could navigate by sound more easily?

  I couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like to be blind, especially in a world like this, full of unseen dangers. Looking at him more closely now, the isolation it brought was palpable. He sat there, all alone on the bench, a solitary figure trapped in the eternal darkness of his own mind… Or maybe he was blind from a young age, but not from birth? Maybe he had memories of sight, of colours and faces, so at least he wouldn't be truly alone in the dark.

  But that made me wonder what would be worse: to have never known anything but darkness, or to have seen the world in all its beauty, only to one day lose your sight forever…

  Shaking my head, I pushed the somber thoughts away. He’d probably appreciate some company. Taking the first step in Arthur’s direction, a friendly greeting on my lips, I stopped with a grin as I realized someone else was faster.

  With an effortless, silent leap, Pip landed on the bench beside Arthur, meowing softly at him. As she began to cuddle up against his side, his milky eyes seemed to light up, and a genuine, radiant smile spread across his face.

  “Hey, Pip! I’m glad you’re here to keep me company. Are you all alone?” he asked.

  In response, Pip meowed again. Arthur laughed, a warm, amused sound. “Ah, I see.”

  Grinning myself now, I walked over to the two of them and stopped in front of the bench. “Hey, Arthur,” I greeted him.

  The blind boy turned his head in my direction, his unfocused gaze landing somewhere past my shoulder. “Grim! Ready for chores?” he grinned mischievously.

  I sighed lightly. “Depends. Do we get to choose our tasks, or are they permanently assigned? And, forgive me for asking, I’m a bit curious… what kind of chores do you usually do? Or are you exempt?” I asked, feeling a little awkward about prying.

  Hearing that, he just chuckled, the sound completely free of any offense. “Grim, don’t worry about it. You can’t be blamed for your curiosity, no one can.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Sometimes I forgot that to them, I was just a curious kid, not some jaded adult. Hahaha, being a kid did have its advantages.

  Arthur paused for a moment, rubbing his hands together before continuing. “Well, it’s like this. I either help with things like bookkeeping, where I can add up figures, or simple tasks like washing the dishes. Mostly stationary work, you see. And to your original question, everyone gets to choose their own tasks, for the most part. However, if, for example, sacks of wheat need to be carried from a cart to the cellar, the older, stronger children are naturally expected to help with that.”

  Rubbing my chin thoughtfully, I considered this. Hopefully, there was something I could help with… or better yet, something I could help with using magic. Even if not, any honest work was better than sleeping under a bridge and fighting for scraps just to survive.

  Any honest work was better than sleeping under a bridge and fighting for scraps just to survive. My ass.

  I was lying flat on my back, panting, my chest heaving spasmodically, my fingers digging into the soft turf of the lawn.

  “Get up. That field isn’t finished being watered yet, oh Your Highness, Lord Mage,” the old demon, Grimelda, sneered, her voice dripping with hateful sarcasm.

  Oh gods, please grant me the strength to endure this mockery without doing something I’ll regret.

  For five, ceaseless, break-free hours, Grimelda had been running me ragged all over the orphanage grounds. First, I had to water all the fields, all the flowerbeds, and every single flowerpot, both inside and outside the Orphanage. Then, the paths, fields, and meadows—and who knows what else—had to be cleared of fallen leaves… and Grimelda insisted that every single leaf be returned to whence it came: the forest. Every. Single. One.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  My head was screaming in agony from the mana drain. The monster from hell had let me rest for a whole ten minutes, then she sent me inside. The orphanage had a large communal bath, more like a small, tiled swimming pool, and I was tasked with filling it with water so the children could bathe. That had to be at least 50,000 liters. And then, once it was full, it had to be heated.

  By the time I was finally done, the sun was low in the sky, and I was sure that if I spent even one more drop of mana, my body would simply shut down.

  Taking a few precious minutes to catch my breath, and since I couldn’t immediately find Grimelda, I started making my way with weary steps back outside, hoping to find Pip.

  But instead of Pip, I found… Grimelda. Of course.

  She was standing at the edge of the field, pointing a bony finger at it. Astonishingly, the ground looked completely dry, even though I must have watered it just a couple of hours ago. She just looked at me, that vicious look in her glowing orange eyes saying, “You know what you have to do…”

  But I couldn't. I just couldn't anymore. My legs gave out, and I fell backward into the grass.

  And that’s where we were now. “Get up. That field still needs some water….” the old demon sneered again.

  I hadn’t even been here for a few days, and I was already starting to hate this place. Why do I always, always run into such vile people? Utterly defeated, I let my eyelids flutter closed. What was she going to do? Kill me because I wouldn't water a field? Pff. I’d tear the old skeleton apart before that happened.

  My breathing was heavy, ragged. But apart from the rustling of the trees in the wind, it was quiet. Which surprised me… had Grimelda actually decided to leave me alone? Mentally shrugging, I tried to enjoy the momentary peace, the feeling of the cool grass against my back.

  But the quiet didn't last long. There was a sound. A soft, rhythmic sound, like a purring cat.

  Is Pip nearby?

  Exhausted, I forced my eyes open and looked to my left, but there was nothing there but the vegetable garden and the dark edge of the forest. My gaze wandered to my right, and I nearly shit my pants in shock.

  Verity.

  She was sitting not even a meter away from me, cross-legged on the ground, calmly stroking Pip, who was lounging contentedly in her lap.

  My heart hammered against my ribs, a fresh jolt of adrenaline cutting through my fatigue. Painfully, I swallowed down the surge of anger and confusion and said, as politely as I could manage, my voice hoarse, “I’m sorry, I was just taking a short break. I’ll get back to wor—”

  Verity cut me off, her voice sharp, harsh. “Why?”

  Blinking, I stared at her bewildered. Is she asking why I’m taking a break? But she didn't give me time to answer.

  “Why do you let her do this to you?” she continued in that same harsh tone, and for a fraction of a second, I thought I saw something flicker in her calm, brown eyes. I was so taken aback, so unsure of what to say, but she seemed to have all the time in the world. She continued to stroke Pip with an unwavering rhythm, her gaze fixed on me, unblinking. It honestly just made me even more unnerved.

  “I-I don’t quite understand what you mean…” I replied quietly, shamefully lowering my gaze.

  But Sister Verity only sneered. “Grim. I know exactly what you are capable of. Someone who nearly overwhelmed Corbin Crownfield, a Master Mage. Someone who Lord Rockford himself would have taken as a personal apprentice, had circumstances permitted. Why does someone like that let himself be pushed around by anyone? With all that power you carry inside you? And even if you didn't have it, Lady Ainsworth donated enough to this orphanage that you wouldn't have to lift a finger for a hundred years…”

  She let out a sharp, frustrated breath and gently lifted Pip from her lap, placing her on the grass. Slowly, she stood up and then pointed a threatening, trembling finger at me.

  “Why, Grim?! WHY DOES SOMEONE WHO POSSESSES SUCH IMMENSE POWER LET HIMSELF BE PUSHED AROUND LIKE THIS?! YOU COULD KILL US ALL, AND NO ONE HERE COULD DO A DAMN THING TO STOP YOU! SO WHY…?”

  Her voice broke. “Why do you carry so much humility in your heart and just… endure all of this…?”

  Verity’s eyes filled with tears, and she began to cry, bitter, racking sobs, as Pip, sensing her distress, rubbed purring against her legs. I was speechless. But I didn't have to say anything.

  Suddenly, the air around her seemed to shimmer. Her tear-filled eyes snapped to mine, and the brown iris was swallowed by a brilliant, penetrating golden light.

  “I see everything, Grim. Nothing happens in this orphanage that I don't know about. You haven't been here for even a week, and you're already getting up extra early to practice and improve your magic, not for yourself, but so you can ease the hard field work for the other children. And how are you thanked? You are used. You are abused, so much so that you are on the verge of dying. You're not just burning your mana, you are burning your life force so that others can enjoy a nice warm bath, while you are out here, about to take your last breath. So tell me WHY, Grim,” she practically spat the words, her tears gone now, replaced by a cold, righteous fury, “why do you put up with it?!”

  I bit my lip, avoiding her glowing gaze, her words hitting me like physical blows. Exhausted, I managed to push myself up so I was sitting cross-legged.

  I let every word she said wash over me, replaying the events of the day, of my short time here. She was right. I didn't have to put up with it. But I also knew my actions had consequences. And I knew exactly what those consequences would be.

  Pip.

  Her soft little paws were on my lap now, kneading gently. She purred, her presence a familiar, grounding comfort that only she could provide me. She curled up in my lap, purring contentedly as I instinctively scratched her under the chin. Pip was the answer. She had always been the answer.

  I looked up at Sister Verity now. The golden glow in her eyes was still present, but the raw anger had subsided, replaced by a deep, searching intensity.

  “I came to this world without parents, without family, without friends… without love,” I said, my voice quiet but steady. “I have endured homelessness, shame, and humiliation. I have survived hunger, kidnapping, slavery, monsters, and death itself. And I survived it all, only because of her.”

  I looked down at the purring ball of fur in my lap. “She is the only reason I am alive. I endured all of that so I wouldn't lose Pip. And if it means that I have to endure Grimelda’s malice every single day to ensure that Pip has a warm, safe place to sleep and a full belly… then I will endure it.”

  As Verity heard my words, the golden light in her eyes faded, and tears returned, her expression softening completely. The drops traced paths down her cheeks, falling silently onto the blades of grass at her feet. She looked down at Pip, her gaze now filled with a profound understanding.

  “I understand…” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “That is… very noble of you, Grim. But think about it. If you are dead... you can't protect anyone. Not even her.”

  With that stark warning hanging in the air, she turned and disappeared back towards the main house as silently as she had appeared.

  What the hell? First, she makes this huge, dramatic scene, and then she just leaves me with that?

  I shook my head, completely bewildered, and looked down at Pip. “Thanks for always being there for me, my angel.” That earned me a loving, affirmative meow. “Come on, let’s go inside. I just want to go to bed.”

  Pip jumped from my lap, and I struggled painfully to my feet. I was just about to start the long, weary walk back to the house when I saw something in the corner of my eye.

  Behind the corner of the building, partially hidden in the deepening shadows, stood Grimelda. She was watching us with a malicious, hate-filled expression on her pale, gaunt face.

  And in her hand, she held a dagger, its blade gleaming faintly in the last light of dusk.

  Happy New Year! ??

  THANK YOU to everyone who picked up this story during the launch month. Seeing your comments, follows, and ratings has been the best motivation I could ask for.