Past.

Khiva, the capital city of the country, was contained inside a massive circular wall. Its thickness, giants would find difficult to ram through; and its height, wyverns would find a challenge to fly over.

Outside a gate, beside a merchant’s caravan, Artour Altaveli handed his “daughter” a silver key.

‘What’s this for?’ Latla asked whilst inspecting the key.

‘I once tried running a café in Khiva,’ he explained with a dismissive shrug. ‘It ran, but it never took off. It’s just an abandoned building now. That’s what the key is for.’ Artour, having spent enough time with Latla by now, noticed from her expression that she was dissatisfied. To which, he laughed. A key alone doesn’t mean ownership, every good merchant knows that. ‘There’s a safe inside that café, which that key will also unlock. You’ll find all the legal documents there. That place is now yours.’

Only then did Latla’s expression soften. She looked at the key in her hand and grasped it with gentle affection. The place was hers and she could do whatever she wanted with it.

‘That’s my parting gift for you, Latla,’ he said. Latla opened her lips, but before she could voice her words, Artour continued, ‘But don’t get me wrong. Having lived a merchant’s life, you should have this lesson instilled by now:’

He pointed at the key and gave her a smile that expressed his intent:

‘Nothing is ever free in this world.’

***

Present.

Latla stepped on a crack.

Step on a crack, Latla recalled, break your mother’s back. Thus, she made sure her next step landed on another crack.

The street that Latla was walking through was full of cracks and potholes; to make matters worse, pieces of wood—collapsed roof shingles of surrounding rundown houses—littered the street. The condition was bad enough that Latla had to watch her steps.

This is difficult. It’s difficult to not see why your café never took off, Artour.

Searching for the café that Artour gave her, Latla couldn’t quite ignore the condition of this slum area. While this wasn’t the worst slum area she had ever seen, it didn’t change the fact that the condition was bad.

I guess he was betting on this slum area being fixed when he opened the café. Well, his past decision is not my concern.

Instead, Latla’s concern was to locate the café and to check whether she could use the place for her purposes.

… Take a turn here.

Passing through a bread store, Latla turned right and entered an alleyway.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The walls pressing from the sides were green with moss and the pathway was wet from rainwater that had nowhere to drain into. Latla made sure to walk right in the middle while sidestepping the puddles.

After a short narrow journey—which felt long enough—Latla stepped outside the alleyway. She turned left. Follow the street, keep straight until—

‘You ungrateful child!’ A man’s shout disrupted her thoughts.

Latla glanced toward the shout and saw a large man standing high and mighty over a small boy laying on the street. The former had a reddened fist, the latter had a reddened cheek. He had hit him.

The man held a bottle of alcohol. His face was flushed drunk.

The scene that unraveled before her was by no means a form of tough love.

‘When are you going to return the favor, huh??’ he continued his lecture despite the boy’s sobbing. ‘I raised you up, I gave you food, and I let you stay in my house! So why is it that you haven’t earned me any money to repay all that?!’

Hearing that, Latla clawed her palm. Her hand on the side clenched into a fist.

The boy couldn’t be older than ten. Demanding him to return the favor was nothing short of unjust expectations. It was an unfair standard that was forced upon the boy.

Looking at the boy’s situation, Latla could see a reflection of herself: just a child who was too young to make a change.

‘You take my kindness for granted, don’t you? Let me tell you this: Nothing is ever free in this world!’ He raised his glass bottle, then swung it down at the boy.

Grab!

Latla stepped in between and caught his wrist, stopping the swing.

Nothing is ever free… Latla gave him a scornful stare. ‘That’s wrong,’ she said.

‘Huh?! Who are you to tell me what’s wrong!?’ He struggled to free his wrist, but her grasp was firm and unbudging.

… ‘Here. I’ll give you this.’ She showed him her fist.

‘Huh? Wha—'

Wham!

Latla smashed her fist on his face, giving him a hit that sent him tumbling backward. The man then laid on the street on his back, his nose broken.

‘That’s for free,’ Latla declared whilst easing her reddened knuckles. She then turned toward the boy. ‘Are you alright?’

The boy’s eyes were filled with fear. He was scared of her.

‘…’ Looking into his fearful stare forced Latla to reflect on her actions.

In hindsight, it wasn’t right to let her anger get the best of her and to resolve this situation with violence, a bad part about her that she still couldn’t grow free from. However, in her own defense, she believed the man deserved that one punch. I’d be more disappointed in myself if I didn’t do that.

In the end, Latla couldn’t care less if the boy feared her. ‘When he’s awake, tell him that I’ll be around and that I’ll give him another good punch if he deserves it. Can you do that?’

The boy nodded.

‘Good.’ I don’t mind being feared. What’s important is that this boy doesn’t suffer like I did. The threat would make the man think twice before using violence on the boy again. Latla would continue her search for the café, but before she left, she felt the need to soften the blow. ‘Don’t take what he said to heart. After all,’ she knew this to be true, ‘parents are supposed to support their child.’

***

Past.

Nothing is ever free in this world? Really, Artour? Latla rolled her eyes.

‘And what do you expect in return for this “gift” of yours?’ she asked him.

‘What I expect in return is something that only you can give me,’ he said with a matter-of-fact tone and was beating around the bush. ‘I want to see you fulfil your dream and you better give me that scene.’

‘… Can’t you wish me luck like a normal person would?’ Latla smiled. She gave him a warm hug.

‘What can I say? I’m a merchant.’ He gave her a gentle hug.

‘Artour, I…’ I’m really glad that I met you. Thank you for being the best Father I could ever ask for, were the words she didn’t voice. She wanted to express her feelings, but that would be too soon. There was always the right time for everything; this one, she determined, should be for after she fulfil her dream.

Latla released herself from the hug, looked at the key he gave her, then at Artour.

‘I’ll give you what you expect in return for this. You can count on it: I’ll become the greatest mage in all of existence!’