Novels2Search

Chapter 1

https://i.imgur.com/fWcVTyb.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/fWcVTyb.jpg]

Ollie pretended not to hear the other children. Staring at the ground, he walked neither too fast to draw attention nor too slowly to invite danger. On good days, he managed to leave school without anyone speaking to him or even looking in his direction.

Today is my special day, today is my special day, today is…

"Hey, Pig."

It was the voice that said today would not be a special day. Ollie looked up to find the sneering smile and the red eyes of the Rabbit blocking his path.

"Are you going to leave without saying 'goodbye'? Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"Goodbye, Godofredo." Ollie replied, almost voicelessly.

Around them, the few students who had previously ignored him now gathered in anticipation of the spectacle to come.

"Do you want to hear a joke?" Godofredo spoke enthusiastically. "I thought of a new one."

No, none of them knew what day it was today. Ollie thought about saying it, after all, he had promised his mother that he would, maybe if he spoke, he wouldn't have to hear the joke.

But he knew it would change nothing. it might even get worse.

In life, sometimes you had no choice, sometimes it was life that made the choice for you.

"Yes, why not?" Ollie pretended to smile. "Who doesn't like a joke?"

Godofredo looked at his audience, this was his moment to shine.

"Your mom is so fat," he said with exaggeration and projecting his voice, "that when she goes to the circus, she becomes the main attraction."

Everyone laughed.

Ollie arched his lips even more.

Pretending with them, that it was the joke they were laughing at.

The jokes were never funny, or even new. Ollie was a Pig, Pigs were always called fat, it didn't matter if they were fat or not. That was what hurt him the most, no one there was laughing at the joke, the joke was but the excuse for them to laugh at him.

He clenched his fist and stared at the Rabbit.

https://i.imgur.com/gnb4JPh.jpeg [https://i.imgur.com/gnb4JPh.jpeg]

Among all days, today would have to be the day he would stop laughing at himself.

Today would be the day he would show everyone that he was not a coward.

He had promised himself.

A promise so many times made, so many more broken.

If he did nothing, then they were right to laugh at him.

Today would be the last day.

The last day of jokes and laughter.

The last day he would feel powerless and small.

Today he would show everyone that he was not afraid.

Ollie stared into Godofredo's red eyes without hiding the hostility of his intention. For a second, he let all the contempt and disgust he felt for the Rabbit show. It was the blink of an eye, but in that glorious instant he saw his enemy lose his composure, in the fleeting glimpse of his smug face, he recognized a flicker of fear.

It was now or never.

“What's wrong?” Godofredo spoke regaining his composture. “You got something to say?”

Yes, Ollie had a lot to say, years of feelings and choked back insults.

But as he opened his mouth, the words fled his mind.

“No,” Ollie spoke, hiding behind the mask of his smile. “It was a good joke.”

Ollie relaxed his fist and lowered his ears.

“Every day I think of an even better one,” Godofredo spoke to his audience, then approached Ollie and whispered in his ear. “See you tomorrow, you cowardly Pig.”

The Rabbit bumped into him as he passed.

The crowd dispersed and once again he became invisible.

It's better this way, when they get tired they leave me alone.

Ollie went back to staring at his shoes, one of the laces was untied. But he didn't care, somehow they seemed better that way, more honest. The children were still laughing, whether they were laughing at him or just laughing he didn't want to know, all he wanted was to walk with his laces dragging on the ground, walk until he disappeared from the school.

***

Outside, in the vastness of the city, Ollie felt even smaller.

The streets pulsed with the frenetic energy of the Rabbits.

In front of the temple, the young and old meditated in a wide courtyard adorned with orange-leafed trees. Near a fire altar, a pair of Daykar Rabbits performed a silent dance of precise and fluid movements, he with a sword, she with a spear, merging in perfect harmony. Tourists watched in delight.

Entering a street paved with pastel mosaics, Ollie walked through a wide corridor of shops with lacquered wood facades in a soft shade of gray.

Rabbits were everywhere, in their tea houses, in their art galleries, in their craft emporiums. There was a tranquility and joy that permeated the air, and in the beauty around him, Ollie felt like a grotesque intruder.

He knew it was futile to lament that there were Rabbits in the Nation of Rabbits, yet he lamented every day. His eyes always sought the tourists, the Academy Cats, the Sacred Library Dogs, even the Merchant Houses Gorillas. All these had their culture, their nation, even the Rats had their place. All but the Pigs.

Ollie passed by the Bank of Giants, the colossal black marble construction, decorated with gold engravings. Boars wearing elegant armors stood guard, Pigs in tailor-made suits entered and exited their small domain.

he Pigs were stateless. Five hundred years ago, a war had cost Ollie's future, and something completely out of his control today defined how he was treated, where he lived, and how he should live, even determining who he should be.

The Pigs lost everything, their lands, their empire, their place in the world.

Now stateless, the banks were what remained of their culture, architecture, and past glory. Being an employee of the Bank of Giants was the only path Ollie could find to have a life with respect and dignity.

"Wealth is our culture, suits our armors, and debt the swords with which we defeat those who do not understand the game of power."

His father had told him once. No, he had told him countless times.

On the horizon, hovering above the bank and the lacquered wood buildings of the Rabbits, Ollie could see the Crystal Tower. Erected in the center of the Capital of Ilys, the architectural feat was the heart of the city and could be seen from anywhere, boasting another kind of power.

Tourists from all over the world came to see one of the Seven Towers of the Academy, candidates also came from everywhere, he always wondered what it would be like to become a Technocrat. A foolish dream, since he didn't have the intelligence to compete in their duels.

Maybe he didn't even have the competence to be accepted into a branch of one of the banks.

Ollie looked down at his shoes again, his laces loose and dirty. He knew he should tie them, there was no reason not to, no logical reason at least. This was a choice he could make, to bend down and tie the knot, or just continue.

Today was a special day, something good was waiting for him, the bad part was over, and he wouldn't even waste time to tie his shoes.

Crossing the stone bridge, he got distracted watching the fishing canoes and the rafts with tourists. When he realized, a child was standing, blocking his path.

It was a small and beautiful Bunny girl, no more than six years old, half his size and age. She was smiling radiantly with bright eyes of curiosity and joy.

Ollie trembled with fear and nausea, he had failed once again to remain invisible.

"Hi," the Bunny girl said, waving her hand. "My name is Lara, what's yours?"

https://i.imgur.com/3Yafzcb.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/3Yafzcb.jpg]

In his mind, Ollie wanted to run away from her, but if he ran, he would attract attention, he could ignore her, but if she cried, everyone would think he had been cruel.

"Hi, my name is Ollie."

The Bunny girl seemed so happy in her lilac dress. Her fur was of an immaculate white and one of her ears fell forward as she smiled with affection and kindness.

Ollie couldn't help but smile back.

Why couldn't Rabbits and Pigs be friends? Why couldn't it always be like this?

In his chest, he felt the absence of distress. The bad feeling was so familiar and continuous that it could only be perceived in the relief of its omission.

Today was a special day, sometimes that was a sign, a sign of good things to come.

"Get away from her, you disgusting Pig."

It was the girl's mother bringing Ollie back to reality.

That Pigs shouldn't exist outside their banks.

The Bunny girl didn't understand when her mother dragged her away.

One day she would.

One day she would learn to despise the Pigs.

It was an easy lesson, Ollie had also learned to loathe the Rabbits.

If he could be blamed for the crimes of his nation, then he could hate a nation for their crimes against him.

Ollie hurried home, eager for the expected surprise, today was his special day, and nothing else mattered, all he had to do was run home.

A centipede flew in front of his face.

Ollie put his hand over his mouth to not scream.

In the street, the Rabbits went on with their lives, unaware of the flying centipede above their heads.

Ollie wanted to shout at them, scream at them, how could they be blind to something so disconcertingly spectacular? Centipedes don't fly, centipedes don't leave trails of light, they are not pink with fluorescent stripes of topaz yellow.

The Rabbits were ignorant, ignorant of the preciousness they didn't see, but above all ignorant of the ignorance of what they were missing without knowing.

When the centipede descended into the underpass leading to the underground part of the city, Ollie knew he had lost something precious. That on his special day, life had shown him that magic was real, that miracles can happen, and that all he could do was let another opportunity go without doing anything to reach it.

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What's the point of seeing what others don't, if I don't have the courage to act on what I see? What's the point of wanting, if when I have the opportunity to take it, I do nothing?

His feet responded for him, without understanding or deciding, not caring about drawing the world's attention, Ollie began to run, run towards the underpass, not just in pursuit of the centipede, but perhaps, maybe, in a quest for his future.

***

Ollie's heart beat faster than his steps on the ground.

The city's underground, known as Nightland, remained deserted. As its name suggests, this place came to life only when the rest of the city surrendered to sleep. Walking through its wide corridors flanked by closed shops, it was noticeable that some bars were already welcoming the bohemians, bards, and others refugees from the sunlight.

Ollie ran, already knowing he had lost the centipede. However, he couldn't stop now, because stopping was to admit that he had failed once again.

At the turn of the central gallery, he saw a yellow trail, an insignificant spark of hope, one that reignited the furnaces of his heart. Today would be different, he swore to himself once more. This time, however, he allowed himself to believe.

Ollie gave everything he had. He followed the trail until he saw the pink centipede, it tried to fly away from him, but this was the opportunity of his life, he wouldn't give up, not this time.

Not today.

The centipede flew fast, but he was even faster.

The creature was within arm's reach, he stretched out his hand, his fingers a moment from capturing the mystical creature. He didn't know how it would change his life, but he knew this had the power to make the impossible possible.

Ollie didn't believe in magic, but today was a special day, today he believed that anything could be possible.

This was his long-awaited moment of victory.

Or so he thought, until he tripped and sprawled on the stone floor.

He rolled on the stones, but the pain of the fall was nothing compared to the pain of his shattered expectations. Lying on the ground, his eyes sought the yellow light, when they didn't find it, his eyes sought an explanation. What had he done wrong? Why did life have to do this to him? What had he done to deserve this?

He spotted the loose laces of his shoes, the laces he didn't want to tie.

Ollie took off his shoes, stood up, his chest beating in a storm of feelings and exhaustion. Around him, he looked once more for the magical light, found only the color of petals. Assorted bouquets on tables, ceramic pots filled with flowers and plants. A beauty oppressed by the metal grates protecting the closed shops.

There was no sign of the magical centipede, nothing but the imprisoned flowers around him.

Ollie threw his shoes over one of them.

After a long sigh, he lowered his ears and made his way back.

Barefoot of shoes and illusion.

***

Ollie arrived in front of the shattered gates of the Lamentation District. Pigs had no homeland, yet they still owned the ruins of a past filled with power and ostentation. In this small village, the mansions that had not been destroyed during the revolution were preserved. The imposing rotunda-shaped mansions, which were once symbols of power and wealth, had become mere echoes of their desolation.

Their large stained glass windows were broken, their statues dismembered, and the prestigious white marble of their walls was cracked and covered in dark moss. Their gardens, once vibrant, were now empty of flowers and overrun with tall grasses and weeds.

Most of the mansions stood abandoned, but a few were occupied by older and less fortunate Pigs, those who, despite having once worked in the banks, did not have the resources to live in better places. Ollie recognized the paradox of residing in a mansion and yet being considered poor. His schoolmates could not grasp this contradiction, and he himself found it hard to explain. Although he lacked nothing materially, whenever he returned to his home, he felt engulfed in a sense of loss and misfortune.

He was the only young one among his elderly neighbors, just as he was the only Pig in his school. Being the only one could mean being special, but for him, it underscored his loneliness.

On his way home, the path forked in front of an imposing statue of Madrik, the favorite son of the God-Emperor of the Pigs, the last prince before the fall of the empire. Carved in white marble, with meticulously defined muscles, he sat on a cracked throne, symbolizing his legacy of power and decay.

The throne was filthy, and the prince had lost his head and crown, his arms and one of his feet as well. Now, he was merely an obstacle in the path.

A choice had to be made.

To the left was Gustavo's mansion, a good neighbor who always smiled and whistled, busy tending to his garden, the only one still blooming with flowers. Although his dwelling was the smallest of all, the fact that it was the only one with intact stained glass and walls free of dark moss gave the impression of wealth.

To the right, the path led past Gertrude's balcony. Hers was the largest mansion in the District of Lamentation, and also the most decadent. Like Gustavo, she was often seen on her balcony, but unlike her neighbor, her "garden" was a patch of cracked concrete and weeds.

Choosing was easy, as Ollie had never liked Gertrude. When he was younger, she always scolded him—telling him not to play, not to laugh, not to run, and not even to stand still.

"She never liked me," Ollie mused as he took the familiar right path.

"This city was once ours," Gertrude lamented. "Cursed be the Lions."

There she was, perennially on her balcony, swaying high in her wheelchair.

Ollie quickened his pace, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Gertrude."

They always talked. Ollie would mention something trivial, like the heat or the weather. Gertrude, on her part, invariably lamented about the Lions. Despite their demise over five hundred years ago, her animosity toward them remained undiminished, as if immortal.

"I think it's going to rain," Ollie said, indifferent to whether it would rain or not.

"The Rabbits betrayed us," the old woman pointed to nothing in particular. "The world belongs to the villains."

Ollie nodded, not because he agreed, but because this was their ritual; every day they spoke without truly communicating, words just thrown in each other's direction.

An empty and unpleasant ritual.

Yet, it was a familiar encounter, she always spoke to him, and that was better than silence.

Better than witnessing Gustavo's flowers, the beauty of his garden troubled him, to see his garden was to confront his own lack, to hear the whistle was to recognize his absence of joy. In the aroma of the flowers, Ollie also sensed bitterness.

It wasn't a difficult decision because, in life, many paths are already chosen for you.

Upon arriving at his mansion, Ollie let out a sigh of relief.

The worst of his day had finally ended.

Today was his special day.

A day that held the power to remedy everything bad that had happened.

Grateful for having survived, he entered his house wearing a broad smile.

***

https://i.imgur.com/5EfnTd2.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/5EfnTd2.jpg]

"Happy birthday, my son," a shrill voice shouted, clapping hands.

His mother, a slightly obese Pig, wore a tight, luxurious floral dress. Behind her, the room burst with color from flags and a large table covered in a white cloth, adorned with jugs of juices, cheese pastries, and a massive three-tier cake.

Ollie entered, his smile brimming with genuine joy. Yet, as he surveyed the room, the smiles on both his and his mother’s faces faded into bitter disappointment.

"Where's my father?" He asked anxiously.

His hand didn't ignore him, looking over his shoulder. "Where are your friends?"

"My father promised..."

"I don't want to hear about your father. I asked you a question. Where are your friends?"

His mother spoke coldly, but behind the ice, a fire burned.

Apologize, make up an excuse, and apologize again.

Ollie knew all too well what his ritual was, that it was up to him to swallow his dissatisfaction.

His disappointment.

His anger.

His desire.

His sadness.

None of that belonged here and now, not disappointing his mother was the only thing that mattered, before the cold fire spread to burn away his special day.

My friends couldn't come because they are sick.

That was the lie he had promised to tell.

"I don't have friends," is what he blurted out instead. "No one knows it's my birthday today, no one knows, and no one cares, mom."

Ollie could see the tears forming in his mother's eyes, of course, she knew, when had been the last time they had received a visit? When was the last time they had been invited anywhere?

"I spent weeks preparing everything." Her cold voice now spoke melted in emotion. "All the work I did, for what then?"

"It's for us." Ollie still wanted to save his day. "When dad comes it will be like before, the three of us, the three of us is more than enough."

Ollie had already imagined his perfect day, he had lived inside that day for so many months.

"Your father isn't coming." His mother shook her head with a mix of pity and revenge. "He sent an envelope with money."

On the entry table, Ollie found the open envelope, it wasn't even a letter, just a small note in his secretary's handwriting. The paper money were generous, but note hurt him.

It said, For the most import person in my life, with love dad.

"He promised me."

"Every year he promises."

"No. You don't understand, he swore to me that this year would be different."

"You believed him?"

"He marked it in the calendar," Ollie choked on memories. "He always said that his commitments were sacred."

"They are." His mother's words came out bitter. "Until he crossed out your name, and put a more important one in its place."

"More important than me?"

His mother laughed, not the same laugh as the children at school, a more honest and even more cruel one.

"Your father is selfish just like you." His mother gestured to the decoration. "Just want to take and take." she sighed and shook her head. "Until the day there's nothing left to take, that's the day you'll leave."

"Don't say that."

His mother looked at him for a long time, Ollie knew that look, that was a warning and a judgment, one said, there was nothing bad, that couldn't get even worse.

"I will never leave you," Ollie said, lowering his ears. "Never, I promise."

"You promise? Like your father?" She gave a small laugh. "You're just like him."

Ollie didn't respond, just a small, gentle nod.

His mother smiled, relaxing her shoulders. "To the abys with your father and your friends, we don't need them, we don't need anyone, my son."

Ollie nodded with relief, the relief that came from understanding that his terrible day had finally come to an end. It was still his birthday, he could eat cake and be content with his small party; it wasn't what he wanted, but it was better than nothing.

He smiled, a big forced smile that pretended everything was okay.

"I'm starving," his eyes sparkled at the sight of the cake.

"Ollie, my son," his mother said in her cold voice. "Where are your shoes?"

No, no, no, no, no.

With a knot in his stomach, he looked down at the floor, at the incriminating trail of mud that led from the entrance to his filthy bare feet.

"I lost them," Ollie lied. "I lost my shoes."

"How?" With her arms crossed, she spoke as cold as a volcano. "How, tell me how?"

Ollie tried to think, but his mind was blank. "I threw them away," he admitted.

"Why?" she tilted her head. "Why would you throw your expensive shoes away?"

Because I followed a magical centipede, because I didn't tie my shoes and fell.

"I'm sorry, mom," Ollie skipped the explanation.

"Sorry?" His mother's face twisted in disgust. "Sorry changes nothing. Sorry doesn't fix anything. Sorry doesn't turn back time."

She began to cry and sob.

"Please, forgive me," Ollie touched her belly. "I'm sorry, mom."

The Pig grabbed his arm. Squeezed.

"You're hurting me."

"No, you're the one hurting me here," the Pig shouted. "Your apologies hurt me."

"I'm sorry."

The Pig released his arm and approached the birthday table.

"Now that you've ruined everything, it's no use apologizing now."

"Mom, don't do this," Ollie spoke in a sigh and a plea. "Not today."

The Pig pulled the white cloth. Cutlery, plates, and glasses, along with the three-tier cake, all shattered noisily on the living room floor.

He lowered his head, so sad he couldn't cry.

"You forced me to do this," she said with trembling pink lips. “It is all your fault.”

Ollie fled, ran to the refuge of his room.

***

With the door slamming behind him, Ollie threw himself on his round bed. In the refuge of his pillows, his tears finally poured out. "I want to leave, I want to leave my life."

Ollie remembered the centipede, the magic he let slip by. "Why do I ruin everything? Why does no one help me?" His pleas were to anyone or anything. He prayed to gods he didn't believe in, or to miracles that didn't exist. No one would help him.

"My father can help me. He can still come, take me away from here." He imagined his father entering and seeing the injustices of his mother. He would take him to live with him. It would be his mother who would cry then, watching him leave.

However, that was a dream that only made him feel more unhappy. Deep down he knew it would never happen.

Tired of thinking about his father, Ollie remembered Godofredo, how he hadn't had the courage to confront him. If he had done what he swore to do, he would have been respected. He could have had friends. If he had friends, his mother wouldn't have destroyed the cake, wouldn't have cried. It was all his fault. One day he would make the Rabbit pay for what he did. But how?

There was no magic or miracles, not for him. He had to be smart, he had to become invisible, be docile and compliant. Apologize to his mother. Show her that he was sorry, tell her she was completely right. That he deserved the punishment.

Yes, that seemed to be the only feasible solution to become reality.

He succumbed to the weight of his lamentations. His heavy eyes fell with the sight of his closed door.

***

Ollie woke up to the movement of the door opening.

His heart raced, and he barely contained his joy.

Could it be his father? Was he coming in to show that he was his priority?

Ollie hid his disappointment behind a smile when his mother entered.

With a plate in her hands, she sat on the edge of the bed.

On the plate, a generous piece of crumbled cake.

"You can eat, I took it from the clean part that didn't touch the floor," she said, offering a smile of regret. "It's your favorite flavor."

Ollie sat up, this was one of their moments of calm after the storm.

Food was how his mother showed affection.

"Thank you, mom." Ollie ate the cake, still forcing his smile.

His mother washed his feet, and as she hadn't done in a long time, helped him put on his blue pajamas with yellow stars, then she covered him and kissed his forehead.

"Only I will love you," she stroked Ollie's head. "You know that, don't you?"

Ollie nodded.

She smiled with genuine affection.

He smiled, a true smile now.

His mother went to the round door and looked over her shoulder.

"You and me, Ollie, you and me till the end."

She spoke tenderly, but what he felt was nausea.

His mother closed the door, covering his face with darkness.

Ollie closed his eyes and dreamed of the centipede.

***

The pink and yellow centipede entered through the window crack and flew around his room.

It landed on his chest and crawled up to his face.

He could feel the centipede running over him, he wanted to scream, but he couldn't move.

The centipede then rose and entered through his left nostril.

He screamed, in his mind he screamed, but in this dream, he had no voice.

The centipede crawled until it disappeared inside his flattened nose.

***

Ollie sat up with a scream of horror.

He put his finger in his nose, tapped on his ears trying to get the centipede out of him.

Then he remembered it had been a dream.

"It was just a dream," he said to comfort himself. "It was just a dream."

He looked at the round door.

A strong, yellow light seeped through its cracks.

"Mom?" Ollie called out softly for some reason.

When silence answered him, he stood up.

For a moment he imagined a surprise party, thought again of his father.

Something special awaited him on the other side.

Ollie ran and opened the door with enthusiasm, bathed in golden light.

On the other side, there was no party, but there was a surprise.

The living room no longer existed, in its place stood a majestic candy store.

Luxurious shelves covered the walls with candies of all types and colors. The display cases contained cakes and pies of all flavors and shapes. Crystal jars overflowed with chocolates, gummies, and lollipops. The air was filled with the delicious aroma of fresh sweets.

The yellow light came from elegant oil lamps.

Ollie entered hesitantly, the store seemed larger than his house.

A counter stood out from all the others, one that seemed to be the heart of the hall.

Behind the counter, a figure in dark clothes wore a white porcelain mask.

"Who are you?" Ollie asked the stranger.

The figure in black tilted its head, shadows fell on its mask, creating the illusion of a smile, in the empty darkness of its eyes, a yellow light shone.

"Hello, Ollie"

The Stranger spoke with a friendly and ethereal voice.

"I am the Dream Merchant."

https://i.imgur.com/NORXzNK.png [https://i.imgur.com/NORXzNK.png]

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