The boy ran through the crowd. Passing by markets, taverns, merchants and large residential buildings that held a dozen different families. 

“Come back you little shit! I’ll have your hands!” A slightly overweight man chased after. His face red as rose. 

Ahead stood a carriage blocking the street. The boy slid beneath it and felt temporary pain as the skin was ripped from his legs. He was used to that. A few new bruises for later. Not losing his momentum he kept running. The merchant yelled from behind, followed by gasps and angry shouts on the side. More obstacle was on the street. Building logs, stones, furniture. The boy smiled, jumping over a few times then duked here and there. He felt like a Leo warrior, dancing with the wind. His heart raised, his adrenaline maxed out. He felt exhilarated. There was no way the old fart would keep up this time. He glanced back and his eyes grew wide with surprise.

The old fart was like a bull. The red no longer only visible to his face but his whole body. It felt he was glowing it. The carriage broke in half as he was running through it. More obstacles broke apart as he kept the chase. A shadow loomed over the boy, he looked up to see a table flying toward him. In the last possible moment, he ducked. It flew past him and shattered. That table alone was worth ten times the bread he held. Perhaps the merchant had enough of him this time. It only marked the twelfth time he had stolen from this merchant afterall… Not that bad compared to the others. 

The boy continued, turning down a pathway that led toward the alley. The merchant hesitated, this part of the city was known for gang activity. He stared into the alley, watching the kid slowly disappear. He took in a deep breath then yelled

“Let the maker curse you for eternity!” The words echoed through the alley.

The boy exhaled, then stumbled. His adrenaline exhausted. The loaf slipped his grip, it fell onto the dirty ground. He took a breath and crawled over. Picking it up, he brushed it a few times on the dirty side with his dirty hands, before he took a bite. It felt incredible. Having food in his stomach, he felt like a king. 

I wonder if the King feels like this everytime. He thought, perhaps that’s why the king was so fat. 

There was a lot of things he hated about the king, but he could not judge the king for being so fat. He probably would be a fat king himself if he had all the food in the world. The boy almost ate his fingers. The loaf was gone before he knew it and his stomach growled, wanting more.

A sound carried down into his ear. The boy raised his head. He listened.

“I’m running like a kid, I go--”

The more he listened the more interested he became. The boy, like all boys curiously followed the song. On the dark side lay a frail man. Most of his features concealed beneath the tattered robe. The singing stopped, the hood tilted to one side showing a set of crooked yellow teeth.

“Even the dreams could not foresee this,” The man paused. “Staring like that would do you no good, boy. But I’ll let it pass if you introduce yourself.” He was breathing slowly but it not conceal the stench of rotten fish ooze around them.

The boy took a step back. His nose wrinkled and slipped, fell down on his arse with a thud. He laid there surprised at the revelation. The last time he slipped like this was when he was three years old.  Now… He never slipped. He couldn’t, it would have been a death sentence. And yet, and yet...

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The man laughed with an edge of bitter joy.

“Ha! Not so quick on your feet are you kiddo.”

The boy giggled. He couldn’t help it. It was something funny about this man. His voice, his posture, his face? Though the boy could not see the man’s eyes. He could feel its glimmer radiating beneath the hood. 

“You’re blind.”

“Mmm. Quite observant young man, quite observant,” The man leaned forward. “Don’t tell anyone else that. I like to pretend to see. And most people can’t even tell the difference. Tell me, how did you figure it out?”

“I--” The boy hesitated. Was he going to reveal his secret abilities randomly to this strange man? The ability that had kept him alive this whole time. He closed his mouth.

“Very wise of you. Never reveal your secret. Very wise!” The man laughed again. “Can’t deny it, it’s all true. It’s what keeps you alive in this god forsaken shit-hole, secrecy and deception. I’ll let you another secret, kid. It’s the recipe to a lifetime of painstaking trouble,” He lowered his voice. “Take my advice and leave this place.”

The boy rose to his feet. He had refrained from taking advice from strangers or anyone really. The memory of his brothers, sisters, mother and father taking the advice to stay. Had killed them, all of them. Except for him. People had told him it was a miracle he had survived with the wounds. Miracle, the word stank in his mind. And the more he thought about it, the more his old wounds ached.

“You must have heard. Haven’t you? The Tale of The Boy Emperor.” 

The Boy Emperor. A legend, a myth. He had heard about it. His older sister had always talked about The Boy Emperor so passionately. She had promised everyone; “One day I’ll find the secret door! Then I’ll have my own tale! One far greater than his!” They had giggled around the family table. Little did they know. That was their last night they spent together.

The boy swallowed, he did not believe the story. Whoever wrote down the story must have been losing his mind. Cause Gods do not exist, nor did dragons, demons, dwarfs, undead or beautiful elf maidens. What did exist was humans. Humans, only humans. Not imaginary nor foul creatures hiding in your bed. It was a tale of to keep the children from misbehaving. A tale of dreams really. 

“Peace, harmony.” The man continued. “The words of a bard. The word of a king, and the word of the watcher. Well, we’ll need more of that here. Don’t you think? If only a watcher existed. He’ll have dragged you out of here in a heartbeat!”

“A watcher, what’s that?”

“A question? For me? It’s getting heavy! So heavy!” The man motioned his arm into an imaginary rope. He strained for a second and then his smile returned. “A watcher is everything and anything. It is what you want to become. Ha! That old bastard, now I get it why he’s always laughing when he sees me. Those words freaked me out too, kiddo. Though I was not alone. No, I was weak. Weak and a fool. Foolish enough to destroy a generations of family legacy. And yet, here we are. Here we are.” 

The boy narrowed his eyes. He saw a silver kraken hang loose around the man’s neck. The nonexistent aura was shattered replaced by a radiating beacon that felt like the second sun. The boy turned away, unable to hold the gaze any longer. Whoever this was, he was astonishingly powerful. 

The man sprawled to his feet, his agile speed made the boy go in defensive stance. “Even now you able to act. You remind me of him. A natural born ranker. Unconsciously using the aether like it is air to you. Here’s the deal, kid. I’ll take you with me. You’ll think it’s a dream. But let me tell you. I was hella big dreamer believing I’ll explore every corner of it. That world always has a promise for you. It’s there, it’s always there. It keeps you going, going and going. Main issue? There’s not enough rankers.” He slapped his hand on the boy's shoulder. His godly strength kept the boy in place, frozen. “Sometimes you just have to take faith by force. Even if it means chaos. Only then will we achieve true harmony.”