“Wait your turn, Whisper,” Dreamer complained, trying to elbow his mate away from the warmth of the fire.

“How long's it gonna take, Ms. Tara?” Doti asked from beside Whisper. Every one of them was cold to the bone.

The kids had gathered around their caregiver Ms. Tara, to have their robes smartened. Today was a significant day. The day when those who had come of age for the Initiation would dress in their best clothes and journey to the City Square.

“Just be patient you all, it won't take much time,” Ms. Tara said as she heated up a flat piece of metal with fire coming from her hands.

They all held their hands out to reach for the little warmth coming from Ms. Tara's fire. Well, most of them. Jerome sat beside Ms. Tara, smiling as he watched his friends. He wasn’t shivering like the rest of them. Almost like he could resist the cold without external heat.

“Why are you smiling, Jerome, aren't you cold?” Ms. Tara asked. This phenomenon wasn’t strange anymore. She knew how sturdy Jerome was compared to the rest of the kids in the orphanage, and she wished that like Jerome, they had had the opportunity to be given names—real names—backed with power. Not the nicknames they came up with on the spot for them.

Jerome’s smile brightened but he quickly pursed his lips to restrain himself.

“You’re hiding something, ain’t you?” Doti said. Then he pointed to Jerome looking at his caregiver, “Ms. Tara he’s hiding something,”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Jerome said, opening his hands wide for them to see but failing to keep the smile off his face. This just made him all the more suspicious.

“Tsu!” Whisper sneezed.

Ms. Tara looked at him and quickly said, “Ok, Dreamer, let him get some warmth. We don’t want Whisper getting ill, do we?” She quickly held Whisper's hands, warming them up while she blew hot air on him.

Life at the orphanage was a struggle for the kids. But with lots of friends — siblings really — though they were dirt poor and lacked resources that most children needed, they lived happily, nonetheless.

The orphanage was a decrepit structure, the walls were a bleached white, stripped of any vibrancy they may have once possessed. The interior was bare, save a few donated blankets that lay haphazardly on the floor, offering meager warmth to the children who slept there at night. The air was damp and musty, and a pervasive odor of decay and neglect hung in the air.

The orphanage, a forgotten and neglected structure situated in the heart of the slums in the capital city of Farryn, was devoid of any official name. Despite its squalid conditions, it was home to twenty-five children who had been abandoned by society.

These children were forced to endure the harsh realities of life in the orphanage, surviving on meager rations and sleeping on bare, cold floors. Their frail bodies, with little flesh to cover their protruding bones, were a testament to the harshness of their existence.

Jerome and his friends had been up before dawn, preparing for the journey to the City Square where they would sense the essence of the world for the first time. Puberty, typically occurring between the ages of eleven and thirteen, marked the onset of this pivotal rite of passage.

Over the past four cycles, Jerome, Doti, Whistle, and Dreamer had been meticulously preparing for this momentous occasion. They had worked for the textile materials for the robes in the sewers of the slums, cleaning out food waste clogging the drainage pipes.

Ms. Tara quickly finished smartening their robes, helping them look presentable.

“Well, how do we look?” they asked Moss, the other caregiver, who walked out of one of the rooms in the orphanage, looking like he’d been run over by a mob.

“Well…” he dragged out the word not wanting to discourage the kids but having nothing good to say about their robes.

“Splendid,” Ms. Tara said, applauding, as she gave Moss a scary glare.

The boys’ robes were crafted from the cheapest and roughest fabrics, which barely clung to their frames. The dull, lifeless gray hue of the robes made them appear as though they were being led to an inevitable fate, akin to prisoners walking towards the guillotine.

“Right,” Jerome murmured to himself, clearly not convinced. He carefully retrieved the sandals he had woven from the scraps of cloth and leather he collected in the slums from inside a hole in the wall.

The sandals were a hodgepodge of colors and sizes, with uneven stitching and frayed edges, but they were the best he could make with the limited resources he had.

“Here,” he handed his friends a pair, each smiling brilliantly.

Despite their imperfections, the boys were elated to receive them. It was a first-time experience for Jerome’s friends, who had never owned shoes before, and the joy of having something to cover their feet was written all over their faces.

“How...when did you make these?” Doti asked, amazed. They were always together. Did everything together. So it was a wonder he had the time to craft sandals out of scraps.

“I've been at it for a while now,” Jerome responded with a grin at him and added, “…secretly.”

The others mumbled their thanks as they excitedly put on their new sandals.

~~~

Leaving the slums to see the other parts of the city was a dream come true for Jerome and his friends. They chatted as they hurried along towards the central part of the city, pointing at places where they brought mischief to bear. Shouting greetings at the homeless and elderly in the streets while those they greeted hurled curses at them.

As soon as they stepped out of the slums, a breathtaking panorama of the city was unveiled before them, arresting their attention with every passing moment. The bustling activity, grandeur, and beauty of the cityscape left the children in awe. It was as if they had entered a different realm altogether, one they had only heard of in tales.

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

The imposing structures of the towering edifices loomed over them, casting shadows on the pavement. The colorful facades of the buildings shone brilliantly in the sunlight, their intricate designs and patterns mesmerizing the children.

They couldn’t help but gape at the shops lining the streets, offering an array of merchandise, from dazzling garments to gleaming weaponry. The streets were wide, and carriages glided smoothly along the well-laid-out paths, the rhythmic sound of horses’ hooves resounding in the air. It was a dazzling spectacle that left them spellbound, the sheer grandeur of it all nearly overwhelming their senses.

“Why couldn’t we see the rest of the city in the slums?” Dreamer asked after they all calmed down a bit.

“That’s because there’s a visual array around the slums preventing those within from seeing what's outside of it. It’s a brilliant idea if you ask me.” Jerome chipped in.

His friends didn’t know what to say because they couldn’t wrap their tiny brains around it, so they just looked at him in silence.

Dreamer finally asked again, “what’s a…visual array?”

“Think of it as a...an illusion, created to prevent us from seeing what’s outside the slums.”

Their Jaws nearly touched the floor.

“Someone can do that!” Whisper said in a low voice. “Maybe it ain’t just someone, but a lot of someones!” He continued.

Doti and Dreamer bobbed their heads up and down in amazement.

Jerome was equally amazed, not at the achievement of creating an illusion around the slums, but at the pure and innocent nature of his friends, who could not fathom the idea of being offended by the fact that they were kept from seeing the rest of the city.

Ah, he sighed to himself. How nice it’ll be to be a child again. I sometimes forget that I’m a child and my friends are children.

“Let’s hurry up so we can get to the city Square on time,” he said.

Reluctantly, they tore their gaze away from the grandeur of the cityscape and begrudgingly made their way through the bustling throng of people, determined to reach their destination at the square.

~~~

As Jerome and his friends arrived at the City Square, the sun was already high in the sky, casting a warm glow across the open space. The Square was massive, with the buildings surrounding it towering high above them.

In contrast to the bleakness of the slums, the Square was a feast for the senses. Fruit trees lined the edges of the Square, bursting with vibrant colors and sweet scents. The ground beneath their feet was tiled with intricately designed jade-like stones, gleaming in the sunlight, and adding to the picturesque atmosphere of the Square.

The children couldn't help but feel in awe of the grandeur of it all. Despite being the first ones to arrive, they could sense the excitement building within them, knowing that they were about to embark on an incredible journey toward their dreams.

“I call dibs on the biggest tree!” Dreamer screamed and ran forward. The fruits on the trees looked so delicious, he just had to get one.

Jerome tried to stop him but he was already a dozen paces away. And not only him, the rest of his friends had also taken off too.

Platforms of various sizes were strategically placed around the square, which Jerome surmised were for disseminating information to the city's populace. He quickly jumped on one of those platforms and tackled Whisper to the ground.

“Stop!” he screamed.

The rest of his friends looked back, wondering what happened.

“We may be punished for touching the trees!” Jerome shouted loudly.

They backed up away from the trees. Jerome released Whisper who fell to the floor heaving. He looked up admiring the backdrop of towering peaks ahead of him. Farryn, located at the heart of Vorthe, was built at the base of a vast mountain range that spanned hundreds of thousands of miles, giving the city a magnificent backdrop of towering peaks.

“We should settle down and meditate,” Jerome said, “We don’t know who’s watching over this place.”

They looked around but found no one. “No one’s watching, Jerome,” Whisper said, eyeing the succulent fruits on the tree ahead of him.

“You may not see them, Whisper,” Jerome replied. He held his hand to his mouth, lowering his voice and said, “ doesn’t mean they’re not there. They may be watching us even now.”

“Just one bite and I’ll be satisfied,” Doti said and his stomach rumbled loudly.

Jerome sighed at that. None of them had eaten this morning. They were all feeling hungry and the fruits on the trees were very tempting — even to him. Jerome was used to bearing the pain of hunger, though. They all were. But as kids, their self-restraint when they see food was weaker than his — because he was an adult in a child’s body. He had mastered his body with his more developed mind.

“And what happens when a guard comes at us for plucking a fruit from the tree, or even just climbing it?” Jerome said. He felt the need to remind them again that this was not the slums where they could just run away. Here they could be punished severely. “We could lose our hands for it, you know?”

Every one of them shivered in fear at the reminder.

“Don’t worry,” Jerome said, concerned. “After today, you won’t feel hungry like you do again.”

Jerome had saved them a lot of times from making wrong decisions. And he was the leader of their gang. They all listened to him because he was able to get things done and get results.

They all grumbled as they settled on the ground a few dozen steps away from the southeast entrance, crossing their legs and closing their eyes. As they breathed deeply, the sounds of the city faded away, replaced by the soft rustling of the trees and the distant hum of voices.

For Doti, Dreamer, and Whistle, time passed sluggishly, their bodies feeling restless and impatient. But Jerome was the picture of tranquility, his posture steady and his mind clear as a cloudless sky. After the time it took to boil a cup of water, other adolescents began to trickle in until the square was brimming with kids from all walks of life.

The wealthy youths occupied small, exquisitely carved thrones, tended to by their retinue of serfs who offered them fruits filled with world essence, displayed on golden platters. Some of them luxuriated under parasols made of expensive materials, while others were gently fanned by elaborately decorated hand fans.

These privileged kids looked down upon the rest of the attendees with disdain. Meanwhile, there were those from middle and lower-class families who were less ostentatious in their attire, so one could easily spot them amidst the throngs by the quality of their clothes and the non-existent attendants around them.

Jerome was keenly aware of the danger that lurked in being too conspicuous in the midst of the crowd of adolescents from different backgrounds.

“Let’s move away from here,” Jerome whispered to his friends. They quickly moved backward, away from the center of the Square.

“The last thing we need is to attract the attention of these rich kids,” he said.

“I like their robes,” Dotti said with a smile, and the rest of them nodded in acknowledgment, but they looked at their own robes and sighed in discouragement.

As time trickled by, the bustling City Square was overtaken by an eerie atmosphere, like an unseen presence spread out slowly through the crowd. Suddenly, countless black glass-like cubes, resembling some sort of dark magic, materialized all around, hanging effortlessly a few feet above the ground. Slowly, they began to rotate, spinning gracefully in the air like an ominous dance.

“For ages untold,” A thunderous voice boomed across the Square, its power echoing through the very souls of those gathered there.

“Our forefathers have bestowed upon us the sacred knowledge of sensing the essence, passed down from generation to generation,”

“And with each passing era, it has been the great men and women who have risen to wield this power, shaping the very fate of our kingdom.

“Now, as the hour of destiny approaches, it falls upon you to cast off the shackles of mortality and rise up to claim your rightful place as champions of Vorthe!

“Let Mhen Agrh'ur begin!”

The moment they were all waiting for had finally come!