Nepticolea

---

The doctor hurried through the dimly lit streets of Libiya, the faint glow of lanterns guiding his way. He reached the merchant's house and was quickly ushered inside by the anxious father, whose face was pale with worry. In the corner of the room lay the patient, a young man trembling under a thin blanket, his breaths shallow and labored. The doctor knelt beside him, his hands moving swiftly to examine the boy's fevered skin and fluttering pulse.

"When I found him," the father said, his voice trembling, "he was coughing blood. I tried to give him water, but he couldn't swallow it—it just came back up." The doctor's expression darkened as he leaned closer, listening to the ragged breaths. Something was terribly wrong.

---

The doctor paused, his hands still hovering over the patient. He straightened slowly, his face grim. "This must be a case of rabies," he said quietly. "He was likely bitten by a sick animal and contracted the virus. Unfortunately… there is no cure for this illness."

The father's face crumpled, his hands clenching into fists. For a moment, the room was silent, save for the patient's ragged breathing. Then the man turned abruptly, his voice rising in anger and despair. "This is all my fault!" he shouted, his words echoing off the walls. "We had a fight the other day—stupid, foolish words said in anger. He tried to make it right, though. He went to the woods with his friends to find those rare flowers I've always loved. He just wanted to make amends, and now… now he's—" His voice broke, and he sank to his knees beside the bed, his shoulders shaking.

The doctor placed a hand on the man's shoulder, his expression heavy with sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "There's nothing more I can do."

---

The doctor's words hung heavy in the air, but before the father could respond, a low, guttural sound broke the silence. The boy's body twitched, his head lolling to the side as a strange, almost animal-like growl escaped his throat. The doctor froze, his eyes narrowing as he studied the patient. This wasn't the sound of a rabid animal—it was something deeper, more primal, and utterly foreign.

He leaned closer, his breath catching as he noticed the boy's pupils, dilated and unnaturally black, like pools of ink. The veins in his neck and arms stood out starkly against his pale skin, pulsing with an unnatural rhythm. Saliva dripped from his bared teeth, his lips pulled back in a grotesque snarl. The doctor's stomach churned. This wasn't right. This wasn't rabies.

He straightened, forcing himself to remain calm, though a cold knot of dread tightened in his chest. "I… I need to think," he muttered, more to himself than to the father. He turned away, trying to shake off the unease that clung to him like a shadow. But deep down, he knew. Whatever this was, it was far more dangerous than anything he had ever encountered.

---

The sun hung high over the city of Libiya, its golden rays filtering through the leaves of a large oak tree near the orphanage. Beneath its shade, Lenz lay sprawled on the grass, his silver hair catching the light as he dozed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The faint sounds of children playing nearby barely reached him, lost in the warmth of his dreams.

"Lenz!" A sharp, sweet voice pierced the quiet, jolting him awake. He blinked groggily, squinting up at Mother Charmine, who stood over him with her hands on her hips, her habit fluttering in the breeze. Her usually gentle eyes were narrowed with irritation.

"You've been sleeping the whole morning," she said, her tone firm. "Pray, you will definitely make up for it this time. We're going to pray at sunset with the other children. Be sure to be there—with Paulie and Jackie. No excuses."

Lenz sat up, brushing grass from his hair, and frowned. "I'm seventeen already," he muttered, his voice tinged with defiance. "I'm not a kid anymore. Why do I have to pray with the others?"

Mother Charmine's lips tightened, her patience wearing thin. "Child or not, everyone needs to pray," she said sternly. "And if you don't join your friends, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

Lenz looked away, his jaw clenched, but he nodded reluctantly. As Mother Charmine turned and walked back toward the orphanage, he sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. The last thing he wanted was another evening of kneeling and chanting, but the look in her eyes told him he had no choice.

---

Lenz pushed himself to his feet, brushing the grass from his clothes, and made his way toward the orphanage. The building loomed ahead, its stone walls weathered but sturdy, a testament to the countless lives it had sheltered over the years. As he walked through the courtyard, he noticed a group of new faces—children huddled together, their eyes wide with uncertainty. He paused for a moment, watching as one of the older caretakers knelt to comfort a tearful girl, her voice gentle and reassuring.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen new arrivals, and it wouldn't be the last. The orphanage was always full, always bustling with life, thanks to the tireless efforts of Mother Charmine and the others. They worked from dawn until well past dusk, feeding, teaching, and caring for the children as if they were their own. Lenz felt a flicker of guilt as he thought about how often he took their sacrifices for granted.

Shaking off the thought, he continued inside, scanning the familiar halls for his friends. He found Jackie in the corner of the common room, his nose buried in a book as usual. The boy's dark hair fell over his eyes, and he didn't look up until Lenz tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey," Lenz said, leaning against the wall. "Have you seen Paulie?"

Jackie glanced up, his expression calm but slightly annoyed at being interrupted. "Oh, Paulie?" he said, shrugging. "Haven't seen him since morning. Probably having a fight with some of the kids in the neighborhood. Or he's fighting *him*."

Lenz understood immediately who Jackie meant. He sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. "You might be right. He's looking to get beaten again. He might be tough, but that doesn't mean he can be an idiot."

---

Lenz made his way through the bustling streets of Libiya, his silver hair catching the occasional glance from passersby. The city was alive with activity—merchants called out to customers, children darted between stalls, and the air was thick with the scent of fresh bread, spices, and the occasional whiff of livestock. He walked past a blacksmith's forge, the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal ringing in his ears, and a group of women haggling over bolts of colorful fabric. Despite the lively atmosphere, Lenz's mind was focused on one thing: finding Paulie.

As he approached the market square, the crowd grew denser, and the noise louder. Vendors shouted over one another, their stalls overflowing with fruits, vegetables, and trinkets. Lenz scanned the area, his sharp eyes taking in every detail, but there was no sign of his friend. Just as he was about to turn down a side street, a sudden commotion caught his attention—raised voices, the sound of scuffling, and the sharp crack of a fist meeting flesh.

His heart sank. He knew that sound.

---

Lenz pushed through the crowd, his pace quickening as the noise grew louder. Rounding a corner, he saw them: a group of rascals, their faces twisted with malice, surrounding a figure on the ground. It was Paulie, his lip split and his clothes torn, but his eyes burned with defiance as he struggled against their blows. Standing at the edge of the circle, arms crossed and a smug grin on his face, was *him*—the one Jackie had mentioned earlier. The ringleader. The one Paulie always seemed to clash with.

Lenz's jaw tightened as he stepped forward, his voice cutting through the chaos. "That's enough!"

The rascals froze, turning to face him. For a moment, the square seemed to hold its breath.

---

Lenz stepped forward, his body shifting into a fighting stance—shoulders squared, fists raised, and his silver hair catching the sunlight as he moved. The group of rascals turned to face him, their smirks faltering for a moment as they recognized the determination in his eyes.

Then, *he* stepped forward. Furio.

Lenz's stomach churned as he took in the sight of him. Furio's face was the same as he remembered—cold, calculating, and always wearing that same cruel grin. Their history went way back. Furio had been banned from the orphanage years ago after beating a kid so badly that the boy was left paralyzed. He'd terrorized the younger children, extorting the money they'd worked all day to earn, until Mother Charmine had finally thrown him out. But here he was, still causing trouble, still surrounded by his lackeys.

Lenz's eyes flicked over the group. There was Joe, his round face flushed with excitement, his bulk making him look more like a boulder than a teenager. Beside him stood Michael, his muscular frame towering over the others, his arms crossed as if daring someone to challenge him. And then there was Ramsey, leaning against the wall as usual, his hood pulled low over his face. Even from a distance, Lenz could feel Ramsey's eyes watching everything, calculating, waiting.

All of them were seventeen, just like Lenz and Paulie, but they carried themselves like hardened criminals. Lenz clenched his fists tighter, his voice steady but sharp. "What now, Furio? Is it not enough that Paulie gives you some of his money—money he works really hard for—and you have to beat him too?"

Furio smirked, his lips curling into a sneer. "It's not enough, Lenz. We're running out of booze, for gods' sake!"

The group erupted into laughter—Joe's high-pitched cackle, Michael's deep guffaw—but Ramsey stayed silent, his expression unreadable under the shadow of his hood. Lenz's jaw tightened, and he muttered under his breath, "Fuck you."

The laughter stopped—except for Joe. His wheezing giggles continued, oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. Furio's head snapped toward him, his eyes blazing with fury.

"SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING PIG!" Furio roared, his voice like a crack of thunder.

Joe froze mid-laugh, his face turning pale as the sound died in his throat. The square fell silent, every eye fixed on Furio and Lenz. Furio turned back to Lenz, his grin gone, replaced by a cold, calculating glare. "Pardon me?" he said, his voice dangerously low. "I didn't hear what you said. Can you repeat that?"

The air grew heavy, the tension crackling like a storm about to break. Lenz hesitated, his mind racing. He knew the consequences of pushing Furio too far. But then, his gaze flicked to Paulie, still struggling to stand, blood dripping from his split lip. Something inside him snapped.

"I said," Lenz growled, his voice rising, sharp and clear, "*Fuck you.*"

---

Furio's face twisted with fury, his jaw tightening as if no one had dared to speak to him like that in years. His fists clenched, and the air around him seemed to crackle with barely contained rage. Behind Lenz, Paulie struggled to his feet, his voice weak but sincere. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this, Lenz."

Before Lenz could respond, Furio lunged forward, his fist flying toward Lenz's face in a brutal arc. The crowd gasped, expecting the blow to land—but Lenz moved faster than anyone anticipated. He raised his elbow, blocking the punch with a sharp *crack*, and in one fluid motion, he dropped low, sweeping his leg out in a wide arc. His foot connected with Furio's ankles, sending the taller boy crashing to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"Don't think you're invincible," Lenz said, his voice cold and steady as he stood over Furio. "You've always been like this—picking on people weaker than you."

Furio's friends stared in shock, their smirks fading as they realized Lenz wasn't the easy target they'd assumed. Michael, the muscular one, was the first to recover. "Let's teach this punk a lesson!" he snarled, charging at Lenz with his fists raised. The fat kid, Joe, hung back, his laughter gone, replaced by wide-eyed uncertainty.

Lenz braced himself as Michael swung a heavy punch. He ducked under it, countering with a sharp jab to Michael's ribs that made the larger boy stagger. But before Lenz could follow up, the second thug—a wiry kid with a mean streak—came at him from the side, landing a glancing blow to Lenz's shoulder. Lenz gritted his teeth, spinning to block another strike, but the two of them were relentless, their attacks coming fast and hard.

For a moment, it seemed like they might overpower him. Michael landed a solid punch to Lenz's side, forcing him to stumble, and the wiry kid followed up with a kick that sent Lenz sprawling to the ground. Joe, emboldened by the sight, finally stepped forward, his fists raised as he moved in for the finishing blow.

But before Joe could strike, Paulie was there. With a roar of anger, Paulie launched himself at Joe, tackling him to the ground. The two of them tumbled, but Paulie was quicker, landing a solid punch to Joe's gut before delivering a powerful kick that sent the larger boy flying into a nearby wall. Joe hit the bricks with a dull *thud*, groaning as he slid to the ground.

The wiry kid turned to face Paulie, but Lenz was already back on his feet. With a burst of speed, Lenz tackled him from behind, pinning him to the ground. "Stay down," Lenz growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The square fell silent, the tension thick as Lenz and Paulie stood side by side, breathing heavily but unyielding. Furio, still on the ground, glared up at them, his face a mask of fury and humiliation. The crowd, which had gathered to watch the fight, began to murmur, their whispers carrying through the air like a storm on the horizon.

---

Lenz and Paulie froze, their breaths catching in their throats as Furio straightened up, a glint of steel flashing in his hand. He held a knife, its blade catching the sunlight as he turned it over in his grip. Paulie's eyes widened, and he took a step back, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Have you fallen this low, Furio? I thought you were stronger than this."

Furio's only response was an evil grin, his eyes gleaming with malice as he lunged forward, the knife aimed straight at Paulie. Paulie braced himself, his arms coming up to shield his face, but before the blade could connect, a loud, echoing sound cut through the air.

*Horns.*

The deep, resonant blare was unmistakable, and it sent a ripple through the crowd. Everyone in the market froze, their heads turning toward the source of the sound. Even Furio hesitated, his knife lowering slightly as his eyes darted toward the commotion. The horns were familiar—too familiar. They were the kind of sound that every child in Libiya grew up hearing, a sound that commanded attention and obedience.

"Fuck," Furio muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "Not now."

The crowd began to move, forming a straight line along the edges of the market square. Lenz and Paulie exchanged a glance, their earlier confrontation forgotten as they were swept up in the tide of people. There was no choice but to comply. Everyone—young or old, healthy or injured—was expected to show respect. It was an unspoken rule, a sickening reminder of the hierarchy that governed their lives.

The Roose family's wagon rolled into view, pulled by two magnificent white horses, their coats gleaming in the sunlight. The wagon itself was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, adorned with intricate carvings and gilded designs that screamed wealth and power. Inside sat the family, their faces serene and untouchable, as if the world beneath them was nothing more than a passing spectacle.

Lenz and Paulie joined the line, their heads bowed like everyone else's. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin crawl. It wasn't just respect—it was submission. A reminder that no matter how strong or brave you were, there were always those who stood above you, their power unassailable.

As the wagon passed, Lenz risked a glance upward, his silver hair falling into his eyes. He caught a glimpse of the family—their fine clothes, their indifferent expressions—and felt a surge of anger simmering beneath the surface. But he said nothing. None of them did. They simply stood there, heads bowed, as the Roose family rolled by, their presence a silent command: *Know your place.*

---

Lenz grabbed Paulie's arm and pulled him away from the market, using the distraction of the Roose family's procession to slip through the crowd unnoticed. They moved quickly, weaving through narrow alleys and side streets until they reached their usual spot—a flat rooftop overlooking the city. It was their sanctuary, a place where they could escape the chaos of Libiya and just be themselves.

Paulie climbed up first, his movements practiced and smooth, followed closely by Lenz. Once they were settled on the roof, Lenz leaned back against the warm tiles, his silver hair catching the breeze. "So," he began, glancing at Paulie, "about the sunset prayers. Mother Charmine's on the warpath again. She said if we're not there, there'll be consequences."

Paulie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks for, you know, kinda saving me back there. But I can't go to the prayers. I need to work."

Lenz's eyes narrowed, and he sat up straighter, his tone sharpening. "All you do is work, Paulie. I barely see you these days. What do you even need that money for, huh? You trying to buy a house or something?" He paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Wait… it's for that rich girl, isn't it?"

Paulie's face turned bright red, and he stammered, "No, no, no! Don't think like that! I just… I want to help the community a little, okay?"

Lenz raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Help the community? With what? Your charm and good looks?"

Paulie groaned, shoving Lenz lightly. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

Lenz chuckled, leaning back again. "I mean, my only job is cutting wood, and that money's enough to keep me from starving to death. Barely."

Paulie smirked, shaking his head. "Yeah, we all know you don't have the money to buy an axe. You're still cutting wood with that stone tool. Why don't you work more smartly? Save up and buy a proper axe."

Lenz shot him a look. "And what would I eat in the meantime, dumbass? Rocks?"

They stared at each other for a moment, the unspoken truth hanging in the air. Then, almost simultaneously, they grinned. They both knew exactly what the other was thinking.

"Stealing food again?" Paulie asked, his voice teasing.

"Only if you're in," Lenz replied, his grin widening.

They both burst out laughing, the sound carrying over the rooftops of Libiya. For a moment, the weight of their struggles faded, and it was just the two of them, like old times.

---

The sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the rooftops of Libiya in shades of orange and gold. Lenz and Paulie sat side by side, their legs dangling over the edge of the roof as they watched the city below. The tension from earlier had faded, replaced by the easy camaraderie they'd always shared.

"Poor Jackie," Lenz said with a chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence. "He's probably stuck in the middle of prayers right now, trying not to fall asleep. Remember that one time he actually snored during Mother Charmine's sermon?"

Paulie laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, and she made him clean the chapel for a week. I still can't believe we managed to sneak out this time. She's going to have our heads tomorrow."

"Worth it," Lenz said, grinning. "Besides, Jackie's the perfect scapegoat. He's too nice to rat us out."

They both laughed, the sound carrying over the rooftops. But after a moment, Lenz's expression turned sly. "So… about the girl. Have you confessed yet?"

Paulie groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I'm working on it, okay? It's not that easy."

"Working on it?" Lenz teased. "What's there to work on? Just walk up to her and say, 'Hey, I'm Paulie, and I'm hopelessly in love with you.' Easy."

Paulie shoved him lightly. "Shut up. It's not that simple."

Lenz laughed, but his amusement faded as he noticed the sudden shift in Paulie's expression. His friend's face had grown serious, his eyes distant as he stared out at the city.

"Every time I do it," Paulie said quietly, "every time I bow down to them… it makes me sick. It makes me feel so low, so… insignificant. Like I'm nothing."

Lenz frowned, his teasing mood evaporating. He didn't fully understand what Paulie meant, but he could sense the weight behind his words. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I get that. It's like they're always reminding us of our place, you know? Like we're beneath them."

Paulie nodded, his jaw tightening. "Exactly. And I hate it. I hate that we have to live like this."

Lenz leaned back on his hands, his silver hair catching the last rays of sunlight. "My dream," he said, his voice firm, "is to make those rich fools pay somehow. I don't know how yet, but I'll figure it out."

Paulie was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Then, almost hesitantly, he said, "Promise not to laugh, okay?"

Lenz raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Okay…?"

Paulie took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. "My dream… is to become the king of this country."

Lenz blinked, then burst out laughing. "Oh, come on! You think a mere peasant from an orphanage can suddenly become the king of a nation? That's—"

But Paulie's expression stopped him mid-sentence. His friend wasn't laughing. In fact, he looked hurt, his shoulders slumping as he turned away.

Lenz's laughter died away, and his voice softened. "You can probably make it, man," he said, punching Paulie's arm lightly. "If anyone could, it's you."

Paulie looked up, a small smile breaking through his earlier disappointment. "You really think so?"

"Yeah," Lenz said, grinning. "Just don't forget about me when you're sitting on your fancy throne."

Paulie chuckled, the tension between them dissolving. For a moment, the weight of their struggles felt a little lighter, and the dream of a better future didn't seem quite so impossible.

---

The morning light filtered through the cracked window of the orphanage dormitory, casting long shadows across the room. Lenz groaned as he stirred awake, his silver hair a tangled mess. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, glancing around the room. Paulie's bed was empty, the sheets neatly folded—uncharacteristically tidy for him. Jackie, as usual, was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his nose buried in a book.

"Morning," Lenz muttered, stretching his arms. "Where's Paulie?"

Jackie didn't look up. His fingers tightened around the edges of his book, and his lips pressed into a thin line. The silence stretched on, heavy and awkward, until Lenz finally sighed. "Okay, what's with the silent treatment?"

Jackie snapped the book shut, his eyes narrowing as he finally looked at Lenz. "You two left me to take the blame yesterday. Mother Charmine made me clean the chapel *and* the kitchen. Do you know how many pots were stacked up? Do you?"

Lenz winced. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't supposed to go like that. We got caught up in… something."

"Something?" Jackie repeated, his voice rising. "What kind of something?"

Lenz hesitated, then sighed. "We ran into Furio. He had a knife, Jackie. Things got… messy. Paulie and I barely got out of there."

Jackie's anger faltered, his expression shifting to concern. "Furio? That guy's trouble. Is Paulie okay?"

"He's fine," Lenz said quickly. "But you see why we couldn't make it back, right? It wasn't exactly a walk in the park."

Jackie sighed, his shoulders relaxing. "Yeah, I get it. But next time, give me a heads-up, okay? I don't like being the sacrificial lamb."

"Deal," Lenz said, grinning. "So, where's Paulie now?"

"He left early," Jackie said, reopening his book. "Said he had to work. You know how he is—always hustling."

Lenz nodded, swinging his legs off the bed. As he grabbed his boots and started lacing them up, Jackie added, almost casually, "Oh, and Paulie said to meet him on the second floor tonight. He said it's urgent."

Lenz paused, glancing up. "Urgent? What's that supposed to mean?"

Jackie shrugged, his eyes still on his book. "He didn't say. Just told me to make sure you show up. Don't be late."

Lenz frowned, his curiosity piqued. "Alright, alright. I'll be there."

As he headed for the door, Jackie called after him, "And Lenz? Try not to get into any more knife fights today, yeah?"

Lenz chuckled, shaking his head. "No promises."

---

Furio's fists came down again and again, each blow landing with a sickening thud against the older man's face. The man groaned, his hands flailing weakly as he tried to shield himself, but Furio didn't stop. "You didn't pay me back," Furio snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you can just ignore me? Huh?"

The man's protests turned to incoherent mumbles, and finally, his body went limp, collapsing onto the dirty alley floor. Furio stood over him, breathing heavily, his knuckles raw and bloodied. He wiped his hands on his pants, a cruel smirk spreading across his face.

"That's enough, Furio," came a calm voice from the shadows. Ramsey stepped forward, his hood pulled low, his hands tucked into his pockets. His tone was steady, but there was an edge to it—a warning.

Furio turned to him, his smirk fading into a scowl. "Hey, you still haven't given me my money, you know? Don't think I forgot about that."

Ramsey raised his hands in mock surrender. "I know, I know. No need to get mad. The only one you should be mad about is Lenz and Paulie. They're the ones who humiliated you yesterday."

Furio's eyes darkened at the mention of their names. "Yeah," he muttered, kicking the unconscious man at his feet for good measure. "I'll make them pay. But I need time to think of a plan to corner them. We'll probably need some other guys." He turned to Michael, who was leaning against the wall, his massive arms crossed. "Go tell Jake I need his help. And tell him to bring his older guys. We'll need the numbers."

Michael nodded, pushing off the wall to leave, but Ramsey stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Wait," Ramsey said, his voice calm but firm. He turned to Furio, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. "You know what, Furio? I think we need to go with another plan."

Furio frowned, tilting his head. "Another plan? What are you talking about?"

Ramsey smirked, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone. "Think about it. Having ten guys just to beat up two kids? We look like pussies, Furio. Where's our pride at? We're better than that."

Furio hesitated, his scowl deepening as he considered Ramsey's words. "Alright, smart guy. What's your plan?"

Ramsey's smirk widened. "You know that Lili chick? The one everyone says Paulie's in love with?"

Furio's eyes lit up with recognition. "Yeah, the rich girl. What about her?"

Ramsey leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder how Paulie would feel if we hurt her. You know he loves her, right? What if we… pay her a little visit? Show her what happens when people cross us."

Furio's face broke into a wide, malicious grin. He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the alley. "Well done, Ramsey. That's why you're my best friend. That's perfect." He rubbed his hands together, his excitement palpable. "We'll hit them where it hurts. Paulie won't know what hit him."

---

The market was alive with the sounds of haggling merchants, the scent of ripe fruits, and the chatter of townsfolk. Paulie weaved through the crowd, his eyes scanning the stalls until he heard a familiar voice call out.

"Paulie! Over here!"

He turned to see Lili waving at him, her smile bright and her cheeks flushed from the sun. She was dressed in a beautiful medieval gown, its vibrant colors—deep greens and golds—standing out against the more muted tones of the market. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, catching the sunlight, and her blue eyes sparkled with warmth. Paulie's heart skipped a beat, and he hurried over, a grin spreading across his face. "Sorry I'm late," he said, slightly out of breath. "My boss decided today was the perfect day to lecture me about 'responsibility.' Like he's one to talk—he's late to his own meetings half the time."

Lili laughed, the sound light and melodic. "No problem. I was just browsing anyway."

Paulie glanced around, his tone teasing. "So, does your dad know you're out here?"

Lili rolled her eyes. "I told him I was going shopping with a guard. You know how he is—overprotective."

Paulie raised an eyebrow. "And where is this guard, exactly?"

Lili smirked, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. "I told him to stay somewhere until I finish my shopping. He's probably drinking somewhere. You know how guards are."

Paulie chuckled. "I mean, you guys are rich after all. You can afford to lose a guard or two."

Lili playfully swatted his arm. "Oh, come on, we're not *that* rich. We just own a big farm, that's all."

Paulie laughed, but his expression softened as he looked at her. "One day," he said, his voice tinged with hope, "I'll work there too. Then we can see each other all the time."

Lili's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked away, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve. "I don't know if that's a good idea right now," she said quietly.

Paulie frowned. "Why not?"

Lili hesitated, then sighed. "There's… something going on at the farm. One of our maids got sick. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. She can't even drink water, Paulie. She can't speak properly, and her veins… they're all black. It's like she's not even human anymore."

Paulie's eyes widened, his concern evident. "What? That's… that's insane. Are you okay? Where did she even get it?"

Lili shook her head. "I don't know. She didn't say anything about feeling sick, and then… it was too late. The other maids noticed, but by then, she was already…" She trailed off, her voice trembling.

Paulie reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you just take care of yourself, okay? Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Lili looked up at him, her blue eyes softening. For a moment, they just stood there, the noise of the market fading into the background. Then, almost instinctively, Paulie pulled her into a hug. Lili's breath hitched, and her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she hugged him back.

When they pulled away, Lili's gaze fell on something Paulie had set down on the ground—a bundle wrapped in cloth. "Oh, what's this?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Paulie glanced at it and shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Nothing. Just something for my best friend."

Lili raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Your best friend, huh? Should I be jealous?"

Paulie laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nah, you've got nothing to worry about. It's just… you know, Lenz stuff."

Lili's smile widened, but before she could say more, Paulie picked up the bundle and tucked it under his arm. "Come on," he said, nodding toward the stalls. "Let's finish your shopping before your guard realizes you've ditched him."

Lili laughed, linking her arm with his as they walked deeper into the market, the weight of their earlier conversation momentarily forgotten.

---

Lenz trudged up the stairs to the second floor, his hands raw and aching from another long day of cutting wood with his crude stone tool. He winced as he flexed his fingers, the calluses worn thin from hours of labor. His mind raced with questions about Paulie's urgent meeting. *What could be so important? Did something happen at the farm? Did Furio and his gang cause trouble again?* He couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he reached the top of the stairs.

The hallway was dimly lit, the faint glow of lanterns casting long shadows on the walls. As Lenz turned the corner, he froze. There, standing in a small group, were Paulie, Jackie, Mother Charmine, and Luke—his fluffy white dog sitting obediently at his side. Lenz's eyes widened as he took in the scene. The dog, which he remembered as a tiny pup the last time he saw it, had grown into a sturdy, well-groomed companion. Its tail wagged excitedly as it spotted Lenz.

"What's going on here?" Lenz asked, his voice tinged with worry. He glanced at each of them, his heart pounding. "Is everything okay?"

Before anyone could answer, Paulie stepped forward, a wide grin spreading across his face. In one swift motion, he grabbed something from behind him and held it out in both hands. It was an axe—but not just any axe. The handle was carved from polished oak, smooth and sturdy, with intricate patterns etched into the wood. The blade gleamed in the lantern light, its edge sharp and flawless, reflecting the room like a mirror. It was a masterpiece, a tool crafted with care and precision, the kind Lenz had only ever dreamed of owning.

Lenz's breath caught in his throat. He stared at the axe, his mind racing as everything suddenly clicked into place. The times he'd walked past the blacksmith's shop, staring longingly at the axes on display. The way he'd joked with his friends about how much easier his life would be with a proper tool. The urgent meeting. Paulie's constant work, the way he'd been hiding his money, coming home late every night. Mother Charmine's uncharacteristic lack of anger when he'd skipped prayers. It all made sense now.

His eyes welled up as he looked at Paulie, who was beaming with pride. Paulie didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced at the others, a silent signal passing between them. Jackie, Mother Charmine, and Luke stepped closer, their faces lit up with excitement. Even the dog seemed to sense the moment, its tail wagging furiously. The air in the hallway grew still, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Then, in unison, their voices rang out, loud and clear, filling the hallway with warmth and joy:

"Happy birthday, Lenz!"