Renault sat at the breakfast table, his tiny hands shaking slightly as he tried to hold the wooden spoon. The events of last night still haunted his mind. Every time he blinked, he saw the scroll.
Human acquisition ledgers… The words echoed in his head like a whisper from the void.
Across the table, his parents were cheerful, completely unaware of the storm inside him.
His mother, Alina, placed a fresh plate of eggs and bread in front of him with a warm smile.
"Eat up, sweetheart," she said softly.
"Yes, Mama," Renault replied, forcing a small smile. His father, Lionel Darcier, sipped tea and glanced over the morning reports.
"You've been learning quickly, Renault," Lionel said suddenly, his voice calm yet proud. "I've spoken with your mother… we think it's time you start training properly to become a scribe."
Renault blinked. His spoon stopped halfway to his mouth.
Me? A scribe?
"Really?" he asked quietly.
"Of course," Lionel continued, folding his papers neatly. "You have talent. You're curious. Curious minds are the foundation of great scribes. If you start now, by the time you're ten, you'll already surpass most of your peers."
Alina nodded with a loving gaze. "But remember, my dear, it's not just about learning spells or scripts. A good scribe carries responsibility. Power must be used wisely."
Responsibility? Renault thought bitterly.
Is human trafficking part of that responsibility too, Father?
He forced another small smile. "I'll do my best."
---
Later that afternoon, Renault sat alone in the study. He carefully traced a simple Binding Glyph drawn in chalk on the table.
The glyph sparked faintly. A soft breeze circled the room. The spell activated — weak, but functional.
So this is magic, Renault thought.
His hands still trembled. No matter how hard he tried, the image of that scroll wouldn't leave him.
I need to know more, he thought, gripping the chalk tightly. I need to know what Father is involved in.
His gaze shifted toward the locked drawer where the forbidden scroll had been stored last night. After a moment of hesitation, he approached it again.
The lock was simple. He had studied it last night before closing the drawer. With a little patience, his small fingers carefully slid a thin piece of metal between the hinges. After several tries, it clicked open.
He pulled the scroll out, his heart pounding.
Unrolling it carefully, he scanned the pages again.
Clients… transactions… shipment dates… destinations…
Then, his eyes landed on something new.
"Primary Facilitator: Lionel Darcier."
His breath caught in his throat.
Father is not just writing contracts. He's managing them.
Further down, another name appeared.
"Crestford Inner Circle Protection—Approved by Lord Mavrick."
There's a noble involved too? Renault's mind spiraled. Is this entire city corrupt?
His stomach twisted. He felt like vomiting.
A loud knock startled him, nearly making him drop the scroll.
The front door!
Heart racing, he quickly rolled the scroll back up, locked the drawer again, and ran to the entrance.
Opening the door revealed a tall man wearing a black business suit — strange clothing in this medieval world, yet unmistakably clean and sharp. His eyes were cold.
"Good afternoon," the man said. "Is Master Darcier home?"
Renault swallowed hard. "He's… out at the moment, sir."
The man studied him for a moment, then gave a thin smile. "No matter. Tell your father that the Council expects an update on shipment schedule Delta-47. He'll understand."
Renault nodded nervously. "I-I will."
The man leaned down. "You're a bright boy, aren't you?"
Renault froze. His lips trembled, but he managed a small nod.
The man straightened his jacket and turned away. "Good. The Council likes bright boys." And with that, he walked down the cobblestone street and disappeared.
Renault closed the door, locking it firmly behind him. His heart wouldn't stop racing.
The Council? What Council? What is Father truly part of?
---
For the next few weeks, Renault buried himself in his training. His father provided him with basic magical scrolls and practice glyphs. Though his small fingers struggled at first, he was learning quickly.
He drew simple containment circles, bound small objects in place, and read through beginner contracts.
But every time he trained, a deep fear sat behind his concentration.
What if they find out I read the scroll? What if Father knows?
The memory of that suited man's cold stare never left him.
---
Two months passed.
Renault was now four years old.
The city of Crestford bustled with life as Renault and his mother went shopping. Market stalls overflowed with fruits, fabrics, and trinkets. People laughed and shouted as merchants haggled with customers.
Alina held Renault's hand tightly as they walked through the crowded street.
"Are you enjoying yourself, sweetie?" she asked warmly.
Renault smiled faintly. "Yes, Mama. The bread smells nice."
They bought fresh vegetables, a small toy lion for Renault, and a stack of parchment for Lionel's work. The sun was beginning to set by the time they returned home.
As they entered the house, Renault immediately felt the tension.
His father sat at the dining table, his face dark, his fists clenched.
Alina froze. "Lionel? Is everything—"
"Where were you?" Lionel cut her off.
Alina stiffened. "We were shopping. You knew that."
"You were gone too long."
"There was traffic in the marketplace. The stalls were crowded."
Renault gripped his mother's hand. His father's eyes flicked toward him, then back to Alina.
"We've talked about this. You shouldn't wander for so long, not when things are… unstable."
Alina's voice trembled. "You're being paranoid."
Lionel's hand slammed against the table, making Renault flinch. "You don't understand what's at stake!"
Alina's voice raised. "No, you don't understand! You've dragged us into something dark, Lionel. Something you refuse to explain!"
Renault stood frozen as their voices grew louder and sharper. The air felt heavy.
"I've done what I had to do for this family!" Lionel roared.
"By dealing in slavery?!" Alina screamed back.
Renault's breath caught.
She knows.
The house felt colder. The lights flickered. Every word between them was like a blade slicing into the air. Renault's small frame trembled. Tears welled in his eyes.
"Stop… please…" he whispered, but they couldn't hear him.
Then came silence.
His parents stood staring at each other, breathing heavily.
Renault stumbled back toward his room, his legs weak and his head dizzy. He crawled into his bed and pulled the blanket over his head, but he couldn't block out the fear.
Hours passed.
The house was finally quiet.
Renault wiped his eyes and slowly peeked out from under his blanket, looking toward the window.
That's when he saw him.
A figure stood far in the distance outside the house.
Dressed in a long black coat, the man stared directly at Renault's window. His face was pale and expressionless, his eyes like black pits.
He didn't move. He just stood there — watching.
Renault's entire body froze. His breath quickened, but he couldn't scream.
The man's lips curled into the faintest, most terrifying smile Renault had ever seen.
Then the wind blew, and like smoke, the figure vanished into the night.