The flame

Chapter 9:

Chapter 9:

Drach had arrived in that village as he had arrived in the world: with nothing. From the first moment he was conscious his life had been nothing but a constant struggle to survive. What kind of child is found in the middle of a forest with no clue where he came from?

He passed through foster homes and various orphanages, always in search of something that didn't seem to exist, filled with a longing for something he had never known. The world felt like a giant jigsaw puzzle and he seemed to be that piece that no matter how much you try to mold it or force it, it just doesn't fit.

He had spent weeks with nothing but rice crackers and water for sustenance, forced to keep mopping floors or washing dishes even when his numb fingers had started to bleed, to keep using those icy rags that made his hands ache for days.

He had been kicked out of his last foster home: a couple of shoemakers who had only sought the financial help that the orphanage gave to families willing to take in homeless people. Those who were supposed to have cared for him considered him a freak and finally discarded him like a dirty napkin.

"Beat it, you good-for-nothing! No orphanage would take in your kind!" Sure, it was unusual for orphans to go past 18 without having found a home, but there he was, at 26, with no family, no job, no opportunities. Being seen as nothing more than a leech who wanted to keep taking advantage of a system that didn't even work. "The world would be a better place if you just lay down and die over there."

-Shut up!

Drach shouted at nothing. He would never give the pleasure of seeing his wishes fulfilled to those who had wished him dead, and at that moment he swore he would live no matter what. The loud growl in his stomach brought him back to reality.

He had left the orphanage, he now had no roof over his head and no food, no matter how little, he had been forced to sleep on the streets, in dark alleys or in parks, and it had been almost three days since he had tasted a bite of anything. He hadn't had the guts to steal, but if he wanted to survive it would be necessary.

He made his way to the market, tried to pass for an ordinary villager, and though his own heartbeat was drilling in his ears he did his best to appear falsely confident. He came across a fruit stall manned by an old woman. He looked at that weather-beaten face and the lady's diminutive body and thought that it would not be difficult to take a few fruits behind the old woman's back.

He grabbed two apples and three peaches as stealthily as he could, always making sure that those tired eyes were not following him. And at the moment when the old woman seemed to be busy attending several customers he set off, walking fast enough to get away but not so fast as to arouse suspicion.

He was sure he had made it, pleased with himself, he could almost taste the sweetness of the fruit, his mouth filled with saliva and his stomach roared, demanding food. He felt a strong blow to the back of his head, he turned around in surprise, so fast that for a moment everything went black, he fell on his ass like a sack of potatoes and that's when the old woman finished him off by giving him a hit with a broom on the crown of his head.

-You're nothing but a dirty vermin! Get out of here!

The old woman shouted giving him a smack for every word she pronounced, Drach just ducked his head, trying to protect himself a little, the noise was making him dizzy and the amount of people that were gathering around him made his nerves stand on end. Everything was spinning and he didn't know if he felt like vomiting or if he was going to faint.

The beating stopped but he was still staring at the ground, counting the pebbles as he tried to catch his breath.

-Milo! It's good to see you.