“Good morning Jen, how are you feeling today?”

Jen looked up from the book she was quietly reading to return the greeting, “Morning Katrina. I’m honestly fine. It’s not a big deal, seriously.”

“Better safe than sorry, what would the kids think if they saw you limping around?”

She sat in the wooden chair next to Jen’s bed. The chair was placed right by Jen’s leg, allowing Katrina to quickly examine it with ease. She unraveled the cloth around her knee and felt around, taking note of Jen’s reaction to certain probing. Jen barely reacted.

The swelling was down and there wasn’t much noticeable discomfort. Jen knew she had a reputation as a hardy woman, but she had no reason to lie about an injury. Katrina felt around until she got tired and then applied some ointment and rewrapped it.

“See?”

“Well. Everything seems to have healed, but you’re still not allowed to leave this bed until you’re good and ready.” Katrina moved the chair back.

“You girls worry too much, I’m good and ready now.”

Jen, while appreciating the care, did not enjoy being pampered so much. They didn’t allow her to do work of any kind for the past three days. Samantha wouldn’t allow it, even if it didn’t require movement. Jen hated it. She spent every day laying in bed, left with nothing to do but think. None of those thoughts were good. She feared for the kids, in more ways than one.

It was fine to get rowdy, it was part of growing up after all, but they all aspired to be criminals. Life was hard for an untitled, no more so than for the kids who were thrown out of their homes. They were left with absolutely nothing. If a kind soul didn’t spot them, they’d die within weeks or months. It was terrible, unfair, and unjust.

That didn’t mean they should turn into thugs.

She knew the kids could only see the upsides. The freedom, the right to do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. Some of the boys even loved the idea of robbing the very people that cast them out. The concept of them still being ‘family’ didn’t register. They didn’t see the darker sides for what they were. The endless cycle of death and theft, the immorality, the inhumanity. It was a grim and grotesque path. There may have been a few bright spots, but the path was the same.

When she was kicked from her home all those years back, she refused to let her dignity and humanity be casualties. She instead dove head first into work. She had worked many jobs over those years, some barely provided enough for her to eat well. Before Waldaun came about, the north had a serious lack of tree farmers. Around Norden, it was far more profitable to work in one of the many mines or as a soldier for endlessly warring nobles.

Many of those nobles fought over the same deposits. They actively took able bodied men away from the city, marched them to battle, and then the winner would send them digging until a different noble restarted the cycle. Because of all that chaos, the farms were mostly populated by women.

Jen toiled there for years. In her free time she worked several odd jobs. Bartending, tailoring, babysitting, anything she could do that would make a few more coins. In doing those side jobs she stumbled upon a talent she never knew she had, teaching. The former daughter of a wealthy merchant, she was quite learned.

There weren’t many public schools in Norden, maybe two at the time. They simply couldn’t sustain themselves. The poorer folk they were geared towards didn’t feel the need to send their kids to a school when they could be actively working instead.

Jen began by tutoring some of the few kids that attended those schools. Her impact was visible instantly. The three children she tutored were top of their respective classes.

It didn’t pay much originally, but she found great fulfillment in it. She started using a few chunks of her spare time to learn advanced subjects she could teach to older students. Soon, people wished for her to tutor their children as a replacement for proper schooling. That’s when the money started coming in. It was nowhere close enough to start up her own school, but it was enough to rent a small property to teach from.

Years down the line she caught the attention of a wealthy merchant. It was a tough decision entering their employ, but the increased pay was too hard to resist. They hired her full time. With five entitled, rebellious children to look after. Her work was cut out for her. It was tiring, frustrating, and oftentimes unrewarding, but each day offered new experience. Experience she absorbed. She knew persistence was key and persist she did. After fifteen years of tutoring in their household, all of their kids had graduated from the local academy. She’d succeeded.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Again those around her found her performance noteworthy, the merchant recommended her to a close friend of theirs. From there she hopped around from one merchant’s home to another noble’s home. Teaching to the best of her capabilities. She took great pride in her work. Making the youth not just smarter and more informed, but also teaching them about empathy and compassion. It was her way of keeping her work rewarding, changing the world around her for the better.

Eventually she stopped hopping around and commissioned an orphanage to be built. A few of the merchants and nobles she knew helped as well. She had made enough for herself, it was time to give back directly.

Now, twenty years after founding the orphanage, she rarely tutored or taught anyone. Her aides did much of the work. They were young and full of energy and vigor. Jen was still up and around, despite her age, but they had all decided it was time for her to take a less active role in managing the orphanage.

All things considered, she was fine with that. She was getting older, she couldn’t hide that fact. Time caught up with everyone. The recent batch of kids had her worried anew though. Last month they were climbing the nearby houses trying to run across them, this month they were fighting each other with makeshift swords. Kids would and should be adventurous and a bit reckless, but they weren’t playing, they were practicing. Practicing what they’d seen their older brothers do.

Katrina stood up and put her hands on her hips, “You’re the one that worries too much. The kids will be just fine. Look at Kaizer, you remember what he was like when he first came in. He’s matured so much.”

Jen looked down at the book in her hands, “Still…”

“Still nothing. They look up to them because they were able to do something with their lives, something more than anyone expected.”

A large contingent of their corner of the slums had started seeing Kaizer’s gang as heroes. They were even starting to give them ridiculous names. They called Code, ‘The fountain of Endless Energy’. That sounded less like a name and more like an artifact the royal family might own.

Then there was Otto’s old name, “God’s Vengeance.” Almost a decade ago now, he’d go out night after night and attack those known to rob and assault untitleds. Eventually, officers came scouring the streets in search of him. Titled could get away with killing untitleds, but the reverse was simply unacceptable.

Thankfully, Otto was titled. If not for the fact that the officers had believed the killer wasn’t, Jen wouldn’t have been able to get them to leave him alone. Even with that fact, it had taken a lot of begging and pleading. On a different day, with different officers, or different circumstances Otto would have been executed.

While many people saw him as a hero, his actions broke Jen’s heart. He was the first child she raised that turned to crime. It felt like her very own son was led astray. She had slowly come to terms with it over the years but the mention of any of her children partaking in criminal activity still stung.

“I just wish there was something else they could do. Something else that’d give them the type of freedom they desire.”

----------------------------------------

Chris stretched, exhaling loudly as he slumped in his chair. He had spent the past nine hours taking endless meetings. It was an exhausting ordeal. Most of the meetings were pure wastes of his time too, there were only a handful of people with anything important or useful to bring to the table.

His will to keep going rapidly diminished. He wanted nothing more than to kick a hole through his wall and run away. Sadly, too many people depended on him. He couldn’t just run and leave his responsibilities behind.

The day started with nobles; they were given priority in his schedule. Chris loathed them and their traditions, but he had to live with them all the same. Even when their meetings were little more than them going on about their long, decorated histories and shamelessly asking for preferential treatment, he could only smile. In the seven hours he spent seeing noble after noble, hearing monologue after monologue, he had only met two people he would like to form any kind of relationship with.

They were the only people that had an actual point, a purpose. Nobles only ever sought after them when they wanted to appear more powerful than they truly were. It was wholly pathetic. He stomached it though; he needed to keep up appearances. If he didn’t do it, nobody would.

The next round were the merchants. They were a mixed bag. Sometimes, they were great. He’d met many enterprising individuals seeking new unexplored land or long lost cities and temples in need of rediscovery. Josslyn only really cared if there was something to test her mettle, but the rest of them just loved a good adventure. It’s why they formed their party in the first place, all those decades ago. Now that it was more of a business than simply five hot-blooded youths mucking about, they rarely got to indulge in their actual passion.

Unfortunately, that looked like it would continue. The merchants on this particular day continued much in the same vein as the nobles. They waxed on and on about meaningless drivel. There was one interesting proposal that he agreed to, but it was too small for him to act on personally. He would send one of the parties they trained to handle it. They had quite a few adjacent parties these days.

Maybe I should get an apprentice. Only Phillip and I haven’t taken one.

Just as he was musing the pros and cons of teaching everything he knew to a pupil or two, an oddly familiar face arrived.

Where do I know you from?

“Good evening, my name is Kaizer Neufang and I represent Golden Visions Trading Company.”