Light crept into the alley, waking River from a restless sleep. He rubbed his eyes, daylight knifing through the narrow gaps between buildings.

  As his vision cleared, he froze. A tall, thin man sat just feet away. He sat easy, almost careless—but the air around him wavered with essence.

  River’s gaze locked; his mind went blank. His body lagged.

  “Don’t hurt me… please,” he whispered. “I’m not here to hurt you,” the man replied calmly, lifting his hands to show they were empty. “I’m here to help. My name’s Lud.” River didn’t lower his guard—but the man’s tone was measured, his presence oddly steady.

  “I’m… River,” he said hesitantly.

  “Nice to meet you, River,” Lud said with a faint smile. He pushed his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “I teach at a school for the gifted—magic, mostly. You’d fit in more than you think. We answer to the Court.” But before he could speak, Lud pointed toward the sky. “I saw what happened,” he said, his voice quiet and certain. “There are others like you. At the school.” River's stomach twisted. That night. The light in the sky. He’d thought it was a dream. Or a mistake. The idea of a school for mages sounded like a fairy tale. A trap. He wasn’t special—just another street rat. It was something meant for someone else, not him.

  River shook his head. “I can’t pay for anything.” Lud raised an eyebrow. “Come now. Only the strongest among us are acknowledged by the gods. What you did last night—that’s not something you see every day. I think we’ll make an exception.” River swallowed, trying to keep his fear from showing. He’d never believed in the gods. Why should he? They’d never done anything for him.

  “A god?” he whispered, barely able to force the words out. It felt like a cruel joke. Was Lud trying to trick him? Lud smiled faintly. “You can stay here, if that’s what you want. But make no mistake—if you thought life was dangerous before, it’s going to be hell now. That kind of power draws attention. Attention means politics; people will fight for control over you.” River’s heart skipped. “Worse than this? Then freezing nights, empty stomachs, and hiding from the guards? “ Then Lud’s tone dropped, serious. “The Shadows will be coming.” River blinked. “What?” “No one really knows what they are,” Lud said. “But they’ve made a habit of attacking mages recently.” River’s mind reeled. “Aren’t they just stories? Blamed for people’s misfortunes—like dragons stealing their gold?” “They’re real,” Lud said flatly. A cold weight settled in River’s stomach. “Why would they care about me?” “Recently a minor lord’s heir died. In Norvil. They called it a fever. Yet I saw the markings that were left behind. It was something else.” The words hung in the air. Dry. Final.

  River had no words. He didn’t trust Lud — not completely — but if even half of what he said was true, then staying here meant waiting to be hunted. And at the very least… maybe there’d be food. A warm bed. “…Do I get somewhere to sleep?” he asked. “Something to eat?” Lud chuckled. “Yes. And clothes. We can’t exactly take you to the school looking like that.” River nodded, unsure. “Okay.”

  “Good,” Lud said, standing and brushing dust from his coat. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” River rose and followed, trailing behind as Lud rounded the alley’s edge and turned onto the main street. Then he stopped cold. His feet refused to move forward. His chest tightened. His legs locked. Lud paused, glancing back. “Come on. We’ve got to get you a few things before we leave,” he said, voice edged with impatience. “Not a good idea,” River muttered, eyes fixed on the pavement. He didn’t want another beating. Not from guards. Not from nobles. Not from anyone. “They won’t touch you,” Lud said, stepping back. He rested a hand on River’s shoulder — firm, not forceful — and gently nudged him forward. “Not while you’re with me.”

  Reluctantly, River stepped out. The street felt wrong beneath his feet—streets this clean belonged to nobles, and they liked what they could control. He didn’t belong here: barefoot, bare-chested, hair tangled among silk and polished carriages. With Lud beside him, even the guards in bronze only nodded and looked away. Lud stopped at a shop.

  River stared.

  It was one of those stores — the kind he’d only dared to look at through darkened windows long after midnight. It glowed from the inside with warm lamplight, lined with polished oak shelves and fabric that shimmered like moonlight. He didn’t know the names of any of it — only that it was expensive.

  And completely out of reach for someone like him. “Here we are,” Lud said. “You sure they’ll let me in?” River asked, his voice trembling. “Yes. The owner’s my brother,” Lud replied, grinning.

  River blinked. That made sense — Lud really was someone important. Recognized by guards, respected in the streets… and apparently connected to one of the fanciest shops in the city. As they stepped inside, River’s jaw dropped. Robes and tunics in every color and texture hung in perfect rows. Soft leather boots sat displayed like treasures. Embroidered belts, finely stitched gloves, even underclothes were arranged with such care they looked more like art than something anyone would actually wear. He couldn’t believe people wore this stuff.

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

  “Michael! You there?!” Lud bellowed into the store.

  Two customers turned sharply, their expressions wrinkling with disdain—until they saw Lud. Their posture changed immediately. Eyes widened. Nods replaced scowls.

  “I’m coming, you big brute!” a voice called from the back.

  A man emerged from behind a curtain. He was tall like Lud, but broader—strong like an old soldier who hadn’t let age slow him down. Lud lit up with a rare, genuine grin and stepped forward. The two men embraced briefly, like they hadn’t seen each other in years.

  When they parted, Michael raised an eyebrow. “So? What do you need?”

  Lud nodded toward River. “It’s for this little squirt. He needs clothes — and a bath.” Michael let out a booming laugh. “You disappear for a year and come back asking for charity?” “Next time, bring someone I can actually make money off,” he added, jabbing a finger at River. “You hate those snobby little shits. We both know it,” Lud shot back. “…True,” Michael muttered with a sigh. His eyes finally settled on River, who stood half-hidden behind Lud, trying to shrink into the floor. The shop, the robes, the light—it was all too much. It was like standing in front of royalty. “There’s a shower out back,” Michael said more gently now. “Clean yourself up. Then we’ll figure out what to dress you in.”

  “O-okay,” River mumbled. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Suspicion? Disdain? But this was... different. Michael led him through a side door into a small room. A wide wooden barrel sat in the center, steam curling from the surface of the water. The scent was clean and earthy, like wood and soap. “Can I… go in now?” River asked, still not meeting Michael’s eyes. “Of course,” the man said kindly. “It’s all for you. Take your time. When you’re done, we’ll get you fitted.” Once Michael stepped out and closed the door, River stood in silence for a moment. Then, slowly, he peeled off his clothes and lowered himself into the water. The warmth wrapped around him like a second skin, gentle and unfamiliar. It seeped into his muscles, into his bones. Almost magical. But not quite like the orb. That had been, deeper, older, alive. Still… this was the closest River had ever come to comfort. And for now, it was enough. He found a bar of something soft and fragrant. It smelled like wildflowers and something sharper — pine, maybe. He rubbed it cautiously along his skin, watching in awe as it lathered into bubbles. Unsure how much was normal, he scrubbed everything. His arms, legs, neck — until he reached his face. The second he hit his eyebrows, pain shot through his eyes. “Ow, that fucking hurts,” he hissed, blinking rapidly. His eyes stung so badly it was hard to keep them open. But still… worth it. He’d never smelled this clean before. Too clean, maybe. He didn’t even smell like himself anymore. Like… he was scrubbed raw. When he finally stepped back into the shop — dripping slightly, dressed only in the threadbare shorts he’d arrived in — Michael was waiting with a small, amused smile. “There you go. We’ve picked out three sets of clothes that should fit — plus shoes. Try them on behind the curtain.” River hesitated. Then nodded. “Thank you,” he mouthed, too softly to break the silence.

  The fabric was unreal —strong, light, and warm. Each piece slipped over his skin like water. A deep blue tunic, a charcoal vest, pants that fit. No holes, no fraying. When he glanced at the mirror, he froze. The boy staring back didn’t look like him. His hair was still messy, but it curled more now that it was clean. His skin was pale beneath the grime that had been stripped away. His eyes— His pupils shimmered. Red around the edges from the soap, but unmistakably… colors danced across them. The same colors the orb had glowed with. He stepped back in alarm. What the hell was happening to him? He pulled the curtain aside, heart pounding, and pointed straight to his eyes.

  “Did the bath do this to my eyes?”

  River had never taken a bath like that before, unsure of how it might affect him. Lud and Michael burst into laughter. The kind that left Lud clutching his stomach. Michael wiped at his eyes. “Oh, gods, that’s rich.” River blinked, more confused than ever. “No,” Lud finally said, grinning. “That’s your essence. Best keep it dim. People will get jumpy when power like that walks in wearing a child’s face.” River nodded numbly and turned back to the mirror. His fingers moved almost on their own, buttoning the last piece of his tunic. He didn’t know who that boy in the mirror was. But he didn’t hate the look of him.

  “You look much better,” the brothers said in unison. “I... I can’t afford this,” River said, his face filled with confusion and gratitude. “Don’t worry, boy,” Michael said, joy in his voice. “It’s a gift—for someone with a bright future.” “I don’t know about that,” River whispered. “But Lud does,” Michael replied, patting him on the shoulder. “And that’s what matters.” “Thank you, sir.” River stood beside Lud as Michael handed him a small sack containing two more identical robes, neatly folded. “Here you go,” Michael said. “Enjoy them—and keep them safe.” “I will,” River stammered, swallowing back tears. “Let’s get going,” Lud said, placing a hand on River’s back and handing him the pair of sunglasses. You should wear these. Your eyes will freak people out. You’ll learn to veil them, but a veil costs power—and it leaches at you every breath.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” River looked up at Lud, confused.

  “Nothing. I suspect you have an affinity for light, and it’s a physical representation of illusion magic just as my eyes reflect the waves on a beach. But we need to get to the school before the entrance exams end.” River and Lud stepped once more onto the main street. This time, River walked taller.

  Clean. Dressed. And with fewer stares following behind. His feet still moved cautiously, out of habit, but the eyes that once followed him with suspicion now slid off him without pause. For once, he wasn’t a street rat to be avoided or shoved aside. He was just another boy in decent clothes.

  He glanced sideways at Lud, who gave him a small nod. No words. Just silent approval.

  And for the first time in as long as River could remember, he didn’t feel like running or hiding.

  Maybe—just maybe—River would find a place to belong.