Altair was beaten thoroughly like usual. Master Gregor slapped a child's cheek for oversleeping her cheek bled a bit which made Altair pissed so he kicked the bastard's shin as hard as he could making Master Gregor snap and beat him brutally with the coarse rope always in his hand, kicking him when he was on the ground till he was twitching in pain.

  After that he said he went back to talking and exited leaving Altair on the floor as if he was never there.

  The kids quickly surrounded him worried for him and when their meal came a few children gave him their soup.

  Even though he was badly injured it didn’t matter to the place's rules and he still had to practice his magic in his personal room.

  All of their rooms were different to match their different style of magic. It was purely for practicing magic not for anything else so the kids had to sleep in a single room together.

  Altair’s magic was making people see the things they wanted to see but he never bothered using it, in fact he refused to ever use it.

  Altair was such a troublemaker even though he didn’t have to be yet he was always snarky to adults and hated them with his whole being but even though he hated the place he never tried to escape.

  After hours of performing his magic the kids had to go back to sleep but before Altairs head hit the pillow everything went black.

  ***

  Jaxon was tired of living an exhausting life. His parents passed away when he was eight, leaving him in the care of his uncle since he didn't have any other family members.

  His uncle was a bitter man who drank excessively, cursed at everyone, and complained about the smallest things. He only kept Jaxon around for the insurance money.

  At thirteen, Jaxon began performing small acts on the street that he learned online, earning a decent amount of money, which he saved in hopes of moving out. When he turned eighteen, a decent-sized entertainment company took notice of him and offered him a job.

  Eager to escape his uncle, Jaxon signed the contract without a second thought. That was the day he became the company's slave.

  From that moment on, he had to work for them 24/7, exhausting himself until he met their requirement—to win a significant international award. It was practically impossible since magicians were only seen as street performers and were not as popular as singers and actors.

  But now, after a long decade, he was finally free. He had won an international award with his honed skills, fulfilling the contract’s terms. No longer bound to that shitty company, he had saved enough money to retire early… Tonight would be his final act.

  “Jaxon, get ready to go on stage,” someone called out.

  “Yeah,” he replied simply, masking his excitement.

  ‘After this, I won’t have to be forced to do any performances and acts. I'd be too tired to ever do a single one again.’

  He slipped on his usual white gloves and stepped onto the stage. His heart pounded. Just one last act, and he would finally be free. As he went to the stage The stage light flickered then everything went black.

  ***

  A small, warm hand tapped his arm hurriedly. It felt like a child was trying to wake him up.

  “Altair, wake up! If you're late, you’ll get in trouble. I've already dressed, so don’t worry about me and get up.”

  The voice was urgent yet indistinct, making it difficult to determine if it belonged to a boy or a girl. Instinctively, his eyes fluttered open.

  A little brown-haired girl stood beside him, her face filled with urgency.

  “Where am I?” he said, confused.

  “Don’t bother changing—you’ll get hit more if you’re dressed well but late than if you’re on time but not dressed well. There aren't any guests today, so you’ll get off easier if we go right now.”

  He blinked, glancing around for some reason his whole body felt sore so turning even slightly hurt.

  The room was filled with multiple empty beds, each accompanied by a small dresser, a mirror, and a brush.

  His gaze landed on one of the mirrors, where a boy with messy black hair and electric cyan eyes stared back at him. The child looked no older than seven.

  He hesitantly raised his arm, and the boy in the mirror mimicked the movement.

  He couldn’t help but be shocked that the small, pale boy in the mirror was doing the same.

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  ‘This small boy… is me?’

  Jaxon touched his face trying to figure out where his middle aged face had gone.

  But his face wasn’t his, it was too soft to be his!

  “Altair, we gotta go,” the girl urged, grabbing his arm and dragging him along.

  Despite the overwhelming situation, Jaxon was remarkably able to keep calm.

  From a young age, he had been forced to adapt to dumb striking situations. He remembered the night his uncle kicked him out, drunk and crazy as usual, demanding that he find his lost house key. Rain poured heavily, drenching him to the bone. By morning, he had caught a fever and his uncle obviously didn’t take care of him.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to piece together what had happened.

  ‘The last thing I remember was going to the stage and everything going black where I was standing. This child called me Altair… that's the kid's name?’

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to think. Soon, they reached a large open door, revealing rows of silent children sitting on worn-out wooden benches.

  The little girl who brought him here quickly sat down, letting go of his arm, and Jaxon sat as well.

  Jaxon took the time to look around. All the children were wearing the same thing: The boys wore black overalls, and the girls wore simple blue dresses, including the girl who brought him here. All of their shoes were old and ragged.

  A chill ran up Jaxon’s arms as he looked down. His thin, sleeveless shirt his arms were too thin to wear such worn out clothing, and his pants were loose and frayed at the edges, barely clung to his small body.

  His feet were bare, with bandages wrapped around his ankles. The fabric was thin and faded from overuse, but no one seemed to care, as if he always looked like that.

  After a couple of minutes, an adult walked in, and the atmosphere immediately stiffened.

  He was skinny and wore a monocle and a suit. He clutched a coarse rope, and anyone could tell just by looking at his eyes that he was trash.

  He slowly eyed the children one by one before landing his gaze on Jaxon, looking him up and down, making Jaxon instinctively shiver in disgust.

  “Altair, come here,” the man said, looking down at Jaxon.

  ‘The girl called me Altair too… that must be this kid's name.’

  With that thought, he got up and went toward the man, looking into his cold eyes calmly.

  Without another word, the man took Jaxon’s hand and struck his palm with the coarse rope. A sharp sting shot through his palm, and his fingers curled instinctively. His small hand trembled, the skin already raw and red.

  “Be grateful there were no guests. Otherwise, you would get five times as much. The only thing that's good about you is your freakish eyes that a few nobles seem to like. Troublesome brat,” he spat out.

  After that, the man shooed Jaxon away with his hand, clearly gesturing for him to sit back down.

  Jaxon sat back down, deciding to see how things played out—also because he didn’t have enough courage to disobey. His hand trembled violently, and he could feel his heart beating fast from fear of this old man.

  ‘I don’t have to start something unnecessary. Let’s just gather information.’

  The man looked at all the kids coolly.

  “Listen up. There are important guests coming tomorrow. I want you all to be on your best behavior and give them the best performance you can give.”

  All the children looked scared stiff, as if they'd die if they moved a singleinch.

  The man’s lips curled into a cruel grin, his eyes lingering on each trembling child, as if savoring the fear.

  "Good," he said, turning on his heel. "You all know what happens if you disappoint me."

  With that, he strode out of the room, leaving the children frozen in place. Only after the heavy doors shut behind him did they dare to exhale.

  Jaxon carefully watched the others. Some lowered their heads, avoiding eye contact, while others clenched their fists, their small bodies trembling.

  The little girl who had woken him up earlier let out a quiet sigh of relief beside him.

  "Master Gregor didn’t punish anyone as badly today. He must be in a good mood," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Jaxon turned his eyes toward her. He still didn’t know her name, but she had been the only one to interact with him so far.

  Before he could ask, a boy a few years older than them shot her a sharp glare. "Shhh, Rue," he hissed. "You’ll jinx us."

  Rue flinched, quickly pressing her lips together. She gripped the hem of her dress tightly but said nothing.

  ‘Is this place an orphanage? No… it feels more like a prison.’

  "You should be careful, Altair. I’m surprised you got better from your last punishment. You were barely moving for days. Don't be too troublesome for them, stop worrying about me, I can take care of myself” she told him.

  Jaxon hid his reaction, keeping his expression blank, though he was shocked on the inside.

  ‘Why would they hurt a kid so ruthlessly to the point where the poor kid can't get up? What's with this place?’

  Jaxon internally sighed. ‘If I suddenly act too differently, it’ll raise suspicion. I need to play along for now. How would a troublemaker even act?’

  Jaxon had no idea since he wasn’t the type to cause any unnecessary problems and preferred to just watch things go by to gather information; it was a habit he had acquired when his parents died.

  The heavy silence was only broken by the creaking of the doors opening again. A frail-looking woman in a modest gray dress entered, her expression tired but not as cruel as Gregor’s.

  “Line up,” she instructed.

  The children quickly and quietly obeyed. Jaxon followed Rue’s lead, standing beside her as they formed a single-file line.

  The woman walked past each of them, handing out small wooden bowls filled with watery soup. When she reached Jaxon, she hesitated for a second before handing him his bowl.

  “Don’t throw it this time,” The woman instructed him.

  Without missing a beat Jaxon threw the bowl to the ground and the soup completely wasted on the ground.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” He said snarkily.

  ‘That should do it. If I’m right about how this kid acts, it won’t raise suspicion… though I might get hit again for it.’

  The woman looked calm as if already used to it.

  “Your not getting anymore and nobody cared if you go hungry you can only blame yourself” ’

  As she said it his stomach growled loudly.

  ‘I really should have thought that through…’