Lleu grabbed his cloak from the wall peg along with a small bundle of packages he had prepared the night before and dashed out into the streets of the city’s lower district.

As it was still early enough in the morning the light that shone through the clouds above was dim and the streets relatively empty. Lleu knew that very soon this would change as the streets filled with people going about their daily routines. The streets would be bad enough on a normal day making any sort of easy travel next to impossible but it was not a normal day.

‘Damn choosing, they really don't need to make such a big event out of it.’

The choosing was both what made the day abnormal and the reason for Lleu’s annoyance. For the majority of the lower district it was a festival day to enjoy but since he was a runner it just meant much more work than usual. He was already internally grimacing at the idea of running back and forth from the large plaza to deliver messages to impatient customers. These would usually be whichever people were awaiting the results of the testing of one of their relatives and bringing bad news, which was the norm for the testing results, was never paid well.

The testing, if one could afford to undergo it, was one of the only ways for a family to move up and out of the lower district. Although the exact specifics of it were not known to Lleu he knew that it uncovered any magical affinities someone had. If the abilities it uncovered were of an acceptable level it would earn you a spot in one of the groups of warriors, called societies, that took part in the yearly expedition into the mountains far to the north.

As the only family Lleu had ever known was comprised of his fellow runners he had long abandoned any hope of ever being able to take part, the meager amount of wealth he had saved up during his life was not even close to enough for the entrance. Instead, he had resigned himself to working and rising up the ranks of the runners, if things continued as they had been he might even be able to deliver messages between the lower and middle districts within ten years!

Even though it was fairly rough around the edges the lower district was not necessarily a bad place to live, compared to the stories of the slums located in the southern cities it could be considered a true paradise. To Lleu however, it felt like a cage he needed to break out of.

The feeling of being caged was not unheard of among the population as most would live their entire lives without ever leaving the lower district. Leaving was not possible as moving to any of the higher districts had strict requirements and exiting the city entirely was suicide. This was because the lands surrounding the city were covered in a dense mist which would kill anybody excluding those who could wield magic with only a touch.

Why the mists acted as they did was not something Lleu had ever thought much of as he spent most of his time trying not to be trampled by crowds. It had seemingly only been a minute since he had left but the crowds in the street were already thickening forcing Lleu to slow down greatly.

Even though the streets had not been built with any sort of organization in mind they still would have been wide enough for everyone to walk comfortably if not for the countless stalls latched onto nearby buildings. These stalls turned every street into a winding maze which currents of people squeezed through. As they were the lifeblood of the lower district the stalls sold anything one could ever need, their owners already busy with trade while keeping an eye out for the greedy hands of urchins weaving their way through the legs of the passersby. What limited space there was between everything contained hawkers who seemed to compete for the loudest voice and occasionally a rare patrol of guards who had long abandoned any hope of being able to bring any sort of order to the chaos that was the street.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Dodging out of the way of a man carrying a mountain of sticks in a basket strapped to his back so he would not be trampled Lleu twisted his way through the throng, his goal a pile of abandoned crates that had lined the wall of the alley he was currently in for as long as he could remember.

He climbed up onto the crates, out of the mayhem of the street, and onto the peaceful solitude of the rooftops where he could finally move without being jostled from every side. Because of their openness the roofs had always been Lleu’s preferred way of traversing the city even before he had known such a convenient way of accessing them.

Also since Lleu had always been on the shorter side he had needed them just to be able to move fast as forcing his way through the crown was not something he could realistically do, weaving through people’s legs had also gotten old very quickly. Unfortunately this need had never changed as when his peers all began shooting upwards with growth spurts he had stayed the same. He had ended up a good two heads shorter than everyone else without any expectation of that changing.

Lleu began to jog across the rooftops and as he headed towards the great plaza which was the center point of the entire lower district he began to note which buildings had the tiny red flags raised which signified a need for a runner.

“Lleu, you have my pay for this week?”

The question was posed by Obo. He was a lamplighter who each morning would climb onto the roofs to gain access to the countless lanterns that swayed suspended by ropes above the crowded streets below. He would pull these onto the roof and fill them up with fresh lamp oil for the next night. A little before dusk he would make the same rounds and light them all.

Obo and other lamplighters like him were the result of an effort made by the council governing the lower district to try and reduce the amount of thievery taking place during the night. Of course, since the guards essentially had no real power in the streets, this attempt fell flat and did nothing other than making the nights a little more lively. Since the people liked the atmosphere they brought any attempts to stop would most likely result in riots, the council could only gnash their teeth and keep on paying for the lighting.

“Sorry Obo, I think the task is still on the board, someone else should grab it sometime later today.”

Lleu ran on with an apologetic wave to the man and leaped over a small opening between streets. He briefly heard some angry shouting from below, most likely one of the few guard patrols had noticed his jump.

Technically the only people allowed on the rooftops were those like Obo since he was employed directly by the council and needed access to do his job. In reality, however, the rooftops were used by plenty of other people.

This lawbreaking was not deterred as unwilling to climb up only to see their quarry vanish before they arrived, the guards simply no longer cared enough to do more than simply shout at the offender to get down. The vast majority of these offenders were those who the guards considered undesirables: street urchins, thieves, any anybody else who wished to move around without any regard for the law.

Other than those the only other noticeable group of people using them were the younger members of the runners who used them for quick delivery of messages. Luckily Lleu had grown up as one of the latter.

His life could have been much different as his early childhood had been spent living on the streets stealing from distracted vendors. On one of those days a member of the runners had watched him being chased by a baker he had liberated his lunch from and speed away at a very impressive pace.

Soon after that, he had been offered a place in the runners which he gladly accepted, traded in his street life for consistent meals, a job, and even some education. Education was needed as alongside simply delivering messages as runners were recognized legitimate witnesses for the signing of contracts or even just verbal deals. Due to this all of their members were required to be literate.

Becoming literate had been both a boon and a curse for Lleu. With this skill, his life quality had risen dramatically as being a witness was an easy payout but he had also learned about everything he was missing. Books told him of the exotic southern lands and of the mysterious ruins which the great expedition investigated yearly, each time bringing back the artifacts the magic users of the city drew much of their power from. One way or another he had to move up in the city so he could experience more, even it if was only through books.