Flower Between The Banks

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By the pile of accumulated garbage, which gave off a foul smell of rotten food leftovers and waste left to rot under the rain, I saw her—inside the abandoned building. She wasn't like any child I had seen in our neighborhood before, for every child in Arcanon bore on their face the marks of effort and hardship. But she was different, as if she had come from another world.

She was sitting on the muddy ground, curled up like a small ball of misery, her head buried between her thin knees. She wasn't crying loudly, but her sobbing was faint, barely a trembling whisper, like the sound of cold wind sneaking through the cracks in the walls.

What caught my attention first was that strange glimmer in this thick darkness—a glimmer unfamiliar to Primor Alley, an alley that knows only dust, mud, and darkness. She was wearing a royal blue dress, expensive-looking, its fabric seemed like heavy silk or something similar, though it was completely soiled with sticky mud clinging to every thread. The fabric was luxurious, adorned with scattered crystals reflecting the faint light coming from afar, and faded golden embroidery, worn by what was surely a fall she had suffered.

Her hair, golden and shiny, was wavy and falling around her small face. Part of it was soaked in sticky mud, and another part was entangled with some withered leaves carried in by the cold wind from outside. She looked strange—like a precious painting thrown with great care into a pile of garbage, waiting for someone to discover its lost worth.

I approached her very slowly, step by step, on the muddy ground that caught the sound of my dirty shoes and made an annoying noise with each move, while I wondered in my head: Who is she? What is she doing here, in the heart of Primor Alley, which is only visited by thugs and thieves? I had never seen such luxurious clothes, or such golden blond hair shining in the dark, except on the little girls from the district of the glowing towers, when I was lucky enough to see them from afar—like moving pictures from another world, a world of dreams and luxury. Is she a runaway? Was she kidnapped? Did she fall from another world by mistake? Endless questions poured into my tired mind, which wasn't used to such mysteries.

When she slowly lifted her head, her eyes were the color of the clear sky we barely see behind the dust and constant clouds of Arcanon. They shone with tears and deep fear—like two small lakes reflecting the horror inside her.

She was very small—surely no older than five years, maybe even younger. Her little white face was smeared with mud and tear tracks that had drawn lines down her cheeks. She was trembling badly—not just from the piercing cold that seeped into the bones, but from the shock and fear that had begun to take hold of her.

"Are you okay?"

I asked her in a voice I tried to keep as calm as possible, but my tone still carried a trace of shock and wonder that I couldn't hide. My rough voice—used to yelling in the market to attract customers—sounded strange to my ears as I directed it at a child this pure, as if I were speaking a language I wasn't used to.

She recoiled slightly, as if my voice frightened her more than comforted her, as if she thought I would only add to her misery. Her large eyes settled on me for a few moments. She wiped her mud-covered face, then burst into tears again—this time a little louder, a cry that carried the bitterness of the whole world, making me realize that she had been holding back her tears all along, perhaps out of fear of anyone passing through this forgotten alley, or of being seen in such a state.

"Are you lost?"

I asked again, trying to remove any hint of threat in my voice, anything that might make me seem like someone who could hurt her. I knelt on the muddy ground to be at her eye level, ignoring the cold mud that seeped into my worn-out pants. I felt the chill creeping into my bones.

She nodded faintly, still trembling, her eyes fixed on my face, as if searching for the slightest trace of hope or reassurance.

"Yes... lost..."

The two words barely escaped her small lips, accompanied by a muffled sob that could break a heart.

Lost? Here? That was almost impossible. No one from the Bright Class ever came here on purpose. This place wasn't on their maps—not even in their darkest nightmares.

Did someone throw her here to get rid of her?

Did something happen to her parents, and she was left alone to face this unknown fate?

My mind was trying to grasp the strangeness of the situation, while my heart ached for her.

"What's your name? Where did you come from?"

I asked her, feeling like I was standing before a real mystery—a mystery that might change my entire day, or maybe even my entire life.

She took a long time to answer, as if the words were freezing on her lips from the biting cold or the fear that had gripped her.

"Rosen... my name is Rosen."

She spoke the two words in a voice barely audible, then the words choked in her throat, and she began to cry again.

Her name was beautiful and strange in this dark alley, like a rare flower blooming among barren rocks, glowing faintly in the middle of darkness.

"Rosen... alright, Rosen. Do you remember your family name?"

I asked gently, trying to be patient. I knew fear had paralyzed her thinking.

She looked at me with her wide eyes, which reflected a faint glimmer from the tears that hadn't stopped falling, and shook her head.

"No... I don't know..."

Her words felt like a slap across my face.

She didn't know her family name? Had she hit her head? Had she been through something so violent it took away her memory?

A tightening knot of worry grew in my stomach.

Being lost was one thing—but losing one's family was something else entirely, especially for a child her age.

It felt as though she had fallen from the sky.

"What's the last thing you remember, Rosen?"

I asked her as gently as I could, trying to get any bit of information that might help me.

In a broken voice, with trembling lips, she explained to me that yesterday, she had been shopping with her parents for New Year's in Crystal Square—one of the largest and most luxurious shopping plazas in the Luminous District, miles away from here—and that she had been separated from them unintentionally in the midst of the heavy crowd and noise. Then… she couldn't remember how she ended up in this alley.

Her eyes told a deeper story than a simple case of getting lost—a story of shock and fear that her small words couldn't express, as if she had seen something terrifying on her way.

I looked at her again—at her expensive, dirty clothes that screamed wealth, and at her innocent features that didn't belong in this harsh, miserable place.

I couldn't leave her here.

She was far too young, and alone.

In a place like this… she wouldn't survive a single day.

Someone might find her and use her for evil purposes—or worse, sell her.

That was my absolute certainty.

Even though I could barely manage my own life and my aunt Venice's, and every coin I earned was just enough to keep us from starving for a single day, my conscience wouldn't allow me to leave such a flower to wither in the depths of Arkanon—or become easy prey for human wolves.

I felt a heavy responsibility fall upon my shoulders—a responsibility I hadn't asked for, but one that had asked for me.

"Come with me, Rosen,"

I said, reaching my hand out to her—my rough hand, covered in mud and dust.

"I'll take you to my aunt. She's a very kind woman, and she'll take care of you. We'll find your family."

I tried to show her all the reassurance I had, knowing that finding her family might be impossible.

She hesitated for a moment—her blue eyes moved from my hand to my face, as if weighing the fear of the unknown I was leading her into against the fear of me myself.

Then she slowly reached out her small hand, as if reluctant to trust this stranger who had suddenly appeared from nowhere.

When her hand touched mine, I felt a surprising warmth—a strange warmth in this freezing cold.

Her hands were so soft, bearing no trace of work or hardship—they were too delicate even to hold a leaf.

She was definitely not a child of the Edge.

I held her small hand and gently pulled her up from the mud. Her left foot twisted slightly as she stood, and she clung to me more tightly, letting out a faint moan.

"Are you hurt?"

I asked with concern, noticing a small bloodstain beginning to spread on her blue dress.

She nodded and pointed to her slightly swollen ankle.

"I fell…"

"It's alright. I'll help you."

I said, trying to reassure her, then took off my worn wool scarf from around my neck. It was rough and only somewhat warm, but it was all I had for extra warmth.

I gently wrapped it around her thin neck to give her some warmth she so badly needed.

I carried her in my arms—she was astonishingly light, like a feather.

I felt her small head rest on my shoulder, her golden hair brushing against my neck, and her warm breath touching my skin.

She was trembling like a small bird caught in a net.

"Let's go."

I said, and we began walking back through the dark alley of Bremor, leaving behind the stench of garbage, rain, and despair, heading toward our modest home—the only refuge for my aunt and me.

As we advanced, I began to feel strange eyes following us. A few men were loitering at the entrance of one of the crumbling buildings, the smoke from their cheap cigarettes rising in the cold air and mixing with the smell of mold.

They exchanged looks when they saw me carrying the small girl, whose appearance clearly showed signs of wealth.

Their gazes carried a mix of curiosity, suspicion—and perhaps a hint of greed that could quickly turn into danger.

One of them, a large man with a thick beard, gave us a long stare and raised his eyebrows, as if to say, "Who is she, and what is she doing with you?"

I quickened my pace, gently pressing Rosen closer to me to hide her face from them as much as possible, ignoring the violent pounding of my heart in my chest. I whispered to her:

"Don't look at them. Just keep holding on to me. We're almost there."

We passed by them in silence, and I could feel my heart beating even harder, as if they had uncovered my secret. They said nothing, but their stares were enough to ignite a deep unease inside me—one I hadn't felt before.

I realized then that having Rosen with me in Arkanon wasn't going to be easy at all.

She was a precious gem in a place that knew no mercy.

And I had to protect her with everything I had.

The thought that I was carrying this innocent child, one from a world of light, into my dark home in this ruthless district was both terrifying and strangely moving.

When we reached the end of the alley and breathed in the slightly wider air of the main street, I felt a little relieved—like a heavy weight had been lifted off my chest.

But the relief was only temporary.

The challenges ahead were far greater.

I didn't know then that this small "flower" would change the course of my life forever…

That holding her in my arms was the beginning of a journey I never expected...

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