The Shining City

Chapter 1- I Feel Horrible

 I just wanted to sleep. That's all I could think about as I walked along the cobblestone streets. The moonlight lit up the fog drifting around the city, blanketing all the workers returning home. My bare feet dragged him past all the people sitting in the streets. This was a forsaken city. That's what all the older people told me anyway. All the citizens were all tired, starving, and covered in dirt; and no matter how much we wanted to, we couldn't leave. This was the tale of the once-great walled city: Luceat.

They say it was once a shining diamond, that it was a beautiful city propped up against the coast. Once upon a time it was the beloved capital of our kingdom, but for, I dunno... 80 years now? It's been a prison. Destroyed in a fire years ago, the shining diamond was turned into a smoky pile of ash, and all its inhabitants at the time were condemned to stay inside the city until it could be repaired. We aren't even trying to fix it anymore. No one has come in or out of this city except for the king since the fire. Or so I've heard. But you can't really trust the memory of the people here.

My stomach panged with hunger, forcing me to pause for a brief moment and snapping me back to the present. Slinging my small bag of food off my shoulder, I took my last turn on my journey and reached home.

Home was an alleyway. Seated on the east side of the city and smushed in between (and somewhat underneath) two crumbling buildings. A small fire crackled in the middle of the alley. I brought my bag of food to Cynthia, the "leader" of our little group. In Luceat, people grouped up into makeshift families in an effort to have a community where we could all take care of each other. Our "family" was a smaller one (about 23 people), but we were alive and that was enough. Cynthia wasn't much older than me, maybe six years, but she was the one in charge of money and distributing food.

The first generation trapped in this place figured out pretty quickly that it was nearly impossible to live here on your own. They established the first communities, and everyone has followed suit since. We give everything we have and everything we make to each other, and that makes sure that as many needs can be fulfilled as possible. I handed my bag of food to Cynthia. Apparently, an entire day's wages equaled two mangos and three small loaves of bread.

Cynthia looked up at me, the light from the fire behind her glowed softly. "Seb... I-"

I shook my head before she could finish, "I know."

She pushed one of my loaves back into my hands, "It's been too long, I can see it in your face,"

"I'm tired, that's all it is, Cyn," I held the bread out, "No need,"

"I can't promise there will be anything tomorrow either Seb, no one seems to be getting any better,"

"That's exactly why I can't take this; our sick need it more,"

Cynthia silently pleaded with me for just a moment more, but she gave up. Holding her hands out to me, she accepted the last of my wages. My head felt a bit fuzzy for a moment. I shook it off and joined everyone else at the fire. I chose my spot next to Cynthia's fiancé Bart; he shifted to the left to make room for me in the circle. The weather was starting to get cool again. That along with the excess moisture in the air promised a chilly night, and I wasn't warm enough to sleep yet. I sat down and held my hands out to the flames, letting my eyes slip close.

I heard Cynthia speaking in the background but didn't register any of her words. Faint vibrations in the ground told me everyone in our community was gathering to eat. Most likely, only the sick and the children would be eating tonight, they would always be priority. "Sebastian!"

My eyes snapped open at the sound of my name. One of the kids was running toward me, Charlie, he always said my name more like "Subathchen". He was oddly attached to me; I didn't mind it. He sat in my lap, holding a part of one of the loaves I'd brought home. This was a pretty common occurrence; I adjusted my position to be as comfortable as possible and sank back into my thoughtlessness as the toddler ate dinner.