Life in the slums

My first days in this world blurred together, a cycle of hunger, cold, and fleeting moments of warmth. One thing became clear to me almost immediately: we were poor. Not just poor—we had nothing.

Our house, if it could even be called that, looked like it might collapse and bury us at any moment. The ground was nothing but dirt, the air thick with the stench of rot and filth. A single flickering candle provided the only light, its feeble glow barely piercing the darkness.

Another thing I noticed is Lyra, this woman who is my mother, or more precisely the mother of the child that was supposed to be born, is someone who is really strong.

She works as a laundress for the wealthiest residents of Eldoria.Every night, she would return home, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion, her hands raw and red from scrubbing clothes in the icy river. Yet, she always managed to summon a smile for me, her tired eyes lighting up as she cradled me in her arms. Seeing her sacrifice that could melt even the coldest hearts, I couldn't help but be moved. Perhaps she could be the only one to truly care about me in this life. The only one in two lives, in fact.

She's starving herself for me, I realized one evening, as she fed me a thin, watery broth. Her own bowl sat untouched, the meager portion meant for her pushed aside. Her cheeks were hollow, her frame becoming thinner as the days go by. Whenever i wake up at the middle on the night, i can hear faint sobbing and see her silently crying as to not wake me up. The sight stirred something deep within me—a mix of guilt, gratitude, and a fierce determination to repay her.

I'll make this right, I vowed silently, my tiny fists clenching. I'll find a way to give her the life she deserves. No matter what it takes.

But for now, I was helpless, trapped in this weak, infant body. All I could do was watch, observe, and plan. And so, I did.

The Slums were never quiet. Even in the dead of night, the air was filled with the sounds of life—crying babies, drunken shouts, the occasional fights. It was a symphony of despair, a constant reminder of the world I'd been born into.

I listened intently, piecing together fragments of conversations, learning about the people around us. There was Old Man Garret, who lived two shacks down and occasionally shared scraps of food with Lyra. There was Mira, a young girl who helped Lyra with the laundry in exchange for a few bronze coins. And then there was Gorrens gang.

Time flew by, and after a few months, i felt a faint sensation, a tingling in my chest that I couldn't quite explain. At first, I dismissed it as a trick of my imagination, but as the days passed, it grew stronger, more distinct. It was as if there was an energy inside me but no matter how much i tired i couldn't grasp it.

Ahh I remember hearing about this from mother, its Essence, I realized, recalling the stories Lyra had whispered to me. This is what powers the world. And I can feel it.

I continued testing with different ways. One night, as Lyra slept beside me, I decided to test it. I focused on that energy, willing it to come to me. At first, nothing happened. But then, I felt it—a spark, small but undeniable, flickering to life in my chest. It was warm, comforting, and filled with potential.

Yes, I thought, a smile tugging at my lips. Hahaha finally...This is it!

Lyra's love was a constant in my life, a beacon of warmth in the cold, harsh world of the Slums. She sang to me, her voice soft and soothing, as she rocked me to sleep. She told me stories of the world beyond the Slums, of the gleaming city of Eldoria and the wonders it held.

But there was something else in her eyes—a flicker of fear, of worry. She knew the dangers of this world, knew how easily hope could be crushed. And yet, she never let it show, not to me. To me, she was strength personified, a shield against the darkness.

I'll protect her, I thought, my resolve hardening. No matter what it takes, I'll make sure she never has to suffer like this again.

The years passed in a blur of hunger, hardship, and fleeting moments of joy. I grew into a cautious, sharp-eyed child, my mind far beyond my years. I had learned to navigate the Slums, to avoid the dangers and how to survive. But my focus never wavered from trying to learn more about this new power.

One day, as I watched the city Eldoria near the edge of the Slums, I felt it again—the spark of Essence, stronger now, more tangible. I closed my eyes, focusing on that energy, and for the first time, I felt it respond.