cross the blue sky, gray clouds could be seen in the north, indicating an approaching storm. This news brought dismay to everyone, especially the vendors who had set up their booths to sell their wares. The rain had only stopped that morning and had already caused significant damage. Puddles had formed, and every time someone ran or children jumped in them, water splashed everywhere. The horses only added to the mess. The prospect of more rain made the situation even worse, as it will create even more waterlogged conditions. Everyone, except for the guards and a few working men, would seek shelter in their homes. This left the vendors in a difficult position, wondering how they were supposed to make a living if no one ventured out to buy from them. Occasionally, a passing wagon or two might come by, but the likelihood of a purchase was doubtful.
To add to their frustration, just half an hour before, the guards had attempted to arrest a vendor for theft. The poor man swiftly fled, causing chaos in his wake. He knocked over people's booths, trampled over fruits, and even knocked some people down in the process. Some of the individuals who had previously been cheated by him found amusement in the situation. The ones responsible for reporting him happened to be the king's son and the grandson of a general. They may have appeared like ordinary peasants, but they had guards standing nearby who knew about the vendor's dishonest practices. It was their decision to put an end to his cheating ways. The two young men laughed throughout the whole ordeal, even when the general's grandson was knocked over. But he was never caught, which brought disapproval from all, save the angry vendors. Now, many of the vendors were closing up until the rain would stop.
"Hey," a voice called out, "I need you to sell me some fruit." It was a person passing through.
"Nope," replied the vendor. "I am not selling anything to anyone. Big or small, king or queen. I am done."
"Really, what happened here? This is the worst place I have been," replied the passerby. "There are even abandoned booths."
"Yeah, well, blame it on the rain," the vendor grumbled. "It started pouring this morning and hasn't let up since. Everything's a mess, and nobody wants to come out and buy anything."
The passerby looked around at the deserted and disheveled market, nodding sympathetically. "I can understand why. It looks like a disaster zone."
"It is," the vendor agreed. "And to top it all off, we had a thief causing havoc just before you got here. He knocked down our booths, ruined our goods, and got away scot-free."
"That's terrible," the passerby said, a mix of concern and curiosity evident in their voice. "Do you know who he was?"
"Oh, we know exactly who he is," the vendor replied bitterly. "But he's slippery, that one. Always manages to elude capture. It's like he has some sort of ally with connections."
The passerby raised an eyebrow. "Connections? You think someone is helping him?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," the vendor replied. "There are rumors that he's been scamming people for years, but nothing ever happens to him. Some people say, 'Oh, you know I don't care.' But he is just too good for others to notice."
"That's infuriating," the passerby said, anger tinting their tone. "Someone needs to put an end to his deceitful ways."
"Like anyone can, you know this is the first time someone has actually reported him."
"Oh, well, my friend, I must be going, but keep trying to sell, don't give up. Everyone has troubles."
The vendor smiled. "See y'all someday soon, I hope."
Meeting the Dumb One - Chapter 2
The passerby's name was Winder. He went to the inn to stay the night. He had troubles of his own and he was not going to travel in the rain. So he decided to get some food and stay a couple of days in town. When Winder entered the inn, he saw that there was a fight going on. But he did not care.
He made his way to the bar and sat down, ordering a hot meal and a pint of ale. The innkeeper, a burly man with a red face and a thick beard, looked at Winder with curiosity.
"What brings you here, stranger?" the innkeeper asked, wiping a mug clean with a towel.
"Just passing through," Winder replied, taking a sip of his ale. "Thought I'd seek shelter from the rain and grab a meal."
The innkeeper nodded, understanding. "A wise decision. This rain has been relentless. So, where do you hail from?"
Winder gave the innkeeper a blank stare. "Is it common that you must know where your customers hail from?" he asked.
The innkeeper chuckled, shaking his head. "No, it's not a requirement. But it's always interesting to know where people are coming from, especially travelers like yourself. Makes for good conversation, you know? But if you wish to keep it secret, then it matters not."
Winder just stared blankly at the innkeeper, but he said nothing.
“Fine, if you don't want to share, I don't care," the innkeeper said as he went to help another customer.
Winder kept to himself, but then something caught his attention as the door opened. The fighting had stopped and someone came in; the only reason this caught his attention was because the wet figure wearing a long black thin coat, or robe, with a hood on their head looked mighty young to be traveling alone. Winder watched as the person went and sat down in the corner, opposite to where the fight was taking place. Winder's attention was drawn to them again as someone shouted, "Hey there little boy, lost your mommy?"
Winder looked behind him to see the two fellows who were fighting earlier talking to the young person who had just come in. Winder watched when the person did not answer. Someone else in the other corner said, "Hey boys, why don't you teach him a lesson? It's rude not to speak when spoken to."
"Yeah," one of them shouted. The other put up his hand and said, "Wait a minute, do I know you?"
The boy looked up. "Nope," he replied.
"Yes, I do," both of the troublemakers said. As one of them grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him to the floor.
Ow, the boy cried he got the floor, he instantly tried to stand up but On of the boys kicked him. Then one of the grabbed him and pushed him in to the corner with the drunken crowd. "You idiots" he cried again. One of the boys began to punch him continually. The loudest thing in the room was heard was the boys screams.
Winder watched in horror as the young person was bullied by the troublemakers. He couldn't stand by and do nothing. He quickly got up from his seat, leaving his half-finished meal behind, and made his way towards the commotion.
" Leave him be" winder shouted at the sound of Winder's voice. The inn fell silent as the patrons turned to look at him. Even the troublemakers released their grip on the young person and stepped back, their expressions a mix of surprise and anger.
"What's it to you?" one of them sneered, attempting to regain their composure.
"He clearly doesn't want any trouble," Winder replied firmly, looking directly at the troublemakers. "Now step away."
The innkeeper, who had been observing the situation, approached the group with a stern expression. "You heard the man. Step away and leave the lad alone."
Reluctantly, the troublemakers backed off, their faces still flushed with anger. They exchanged glances before finally heading back to their own corner of the inn.
The boy stood up and tried to run court of the inn only to ram it to some one entering. The lad fell to the floor with a bang.
Winder rushed to help the boy up, apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," he said, offering a hand to the young person. "Are you alright?"
The boy, still shaken from the altercation, nodded silently, taking Winder's hand to stand up. He brushed off his clothes and adjusted his hood, avoiding eye contact.
Winder noticed the boy's bruised cheek and cut lip, evidence of the recent attack. "Do you need any medical attention?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
The boy shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm used to it. They always find me."
Winder's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who are they? Why are they after you?"
The boy hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "They're the ones who want me back... but I can never go back."
Winder's curiosity was piqued. "Back where?"
The boy glanced around cautiously, ensuring no one was within earshot. "I... I escaped from a place called the Orphanage of Shadows. It's a dreadful place, run by cruel people. They treat us like slaves... I had to run away."
Winder's heart sank at the boy's words. "I'm so sorry to hear that. But why are they after you now? Did you do something to provoke them?"
The boy shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "No, they want to keep their secret hidden. They can't let anyone know what really goes on there. I tried to expose them, but they caught wind of it. Now, they're after me... they want to silence me."
Winder's determination flared up inside him. "Well, they won't get to you. I won't let that happen. You're safe here with me."
The boy looked up at Winder, a glimmer of hope shining through his tears. "You... you mean that?"
Winder nodded firmly. "Absolutely. No one deserves to be treated like that. You're not alone anymore."
As the innkeeper and other patrons watched the interaction, some with curiosity and others with indifference, Winder extended his hand towards the boy. "Come, let's find a quiet corner where we can talk. You can tell me everything, and we'll figure out a plan."
The boy hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached out and took Winder's hand. "Thank you... for saving me, and for believing in me."
Winder smiled warmly, squeezing the boy's hand reassuringly. "You're safe now. And together, we'll put an end to the Orphanage of Shadows and ensure that no one else has to suffer like you did."
With newfound determination, Winder led the boy towards a secluded table, ready to listen to his story and discover the truth behind the dark secrets of the Orphanage of Shadows.