Storyverse

Prologue: The Hill, Part 1

Side:Oliver

It was about noon. The bustling streets of the capital were in full swing with hundreds of people and carts moving back and forth between the two-story buildings. No wonder, Arai – the main city of the kingdom of the same name – has always been full of humans... and non-humans too. If it wasn't enough, there was a big fair right now, in the height of summer, so the streets were very crowded. A stream of people, like a tsunami, walked into the center of the capital. More and more merchants arrived from the sea, to which more than half of the streets faced. White brick houses with red roofs surrounded people scurrying here and there.

One teenager stood out in the crowd, looking to be about fourteen. He stood out not because of his dark palette – black short hair and a cloak and cape of that color – but because he was walking in the opposite direction from the majority. Probably not even walking, but running as fast as he could, trying not to run into anyone on the way. If it was absolutely impossible to pass between the densely standing townspeople, the boy suddenly disappeared and immediately appeared behind them, continuing on his way. No one was surprised – in such a world, simple teleportation wouldn't take anyone by surprise. As the boy ran past one of the city's smithies, the owner waved at him and shouted:

–Happy Birthday, Oliver!

The black-clad teenager, whose name was obviously Oliver, smiled and waved back. The boy knew this blacksmith very well – after all, Oliver was working here despite his age. Though given the era, there was nothing odd about working at the age of fourteen.

"Hello, Oliver!" "Happy holidays, Oliver!" "Have a drink with us, buddy!" Invitations, greetings and congratulations were heard almost everywhere the boy went. However, he just waved and ran on. At best, he would reply with something along the lines of "Sorry, I'm in a hurry!" Sometimes, to make sure he wasn't late, Oliver would glance at the watch on his wrist... or rather, just his wrist, because there was no watch on it. He still knew what time it was, though.

Finally, he saw his house. Oliver ran to the front door and, as if he had slid across the sidewalk, barely stopped. With a big smile on his face, he unlocked and opened the door. To his surprise, darkness caught him inside. However, when the teenager took just a couple steps forward into the darkness, all the candles of the spacious house lit up at once, and Oliver himself heard the voices of his three friends saying, "Happy Birthday!" Actually, the word "friends" was only used by the boy himself in relation to them. You see, Oliver was offspring of Clain family, and the Clains were an ancient, noble, and wealthy family, so the three who greeted the young man were not his friends in the usual sense of the word. They were servants of the Clain mansion. Of course, Oliver rejoiced at the congratulations and greeted the "friends" cheerfully. However, the main thing for him was far from his birthday, but the fact that today his father, the duke, who was in the war...

–Olly, Daddy's coming back today! – Oliver's mother said cheerfully as she came down the stairs from the second floor, holding onto the ornate banister.

Oliver, his mother, and their "friends" celebrated for a long time that day. Then, toward evening, there was a loud knock at the door. "Dad," Oliver thought. His mother went to open the door, and...

–Oliver! Are you reminiscing again?

The words of the girl standing in the doorway seemed to wake the young man up. He had been standing in front of the front door for about ten minutes, staring at one point. From behind the girl, or rather from behind her lush snow-white hair and similar in color white wings, a man looked out. The winged lady herself looked displeased that Oliver had been standing in front of her for some time now and would not enter the house.