Brachius Vernan grew up in a Viscount family out in the countryside. His parents were wealthy, and from a young age, the boy was taught the mannerisms of nobility. He learned how to carry himself, how to wield a sword, and most importantly how to communicate with people.

His father, Tarich Vernan, taught him that the most valuable thing in this world was how you could talk to people.

In Saarthal kingdom, Brachius learned quickly that others did not value such a thing so highly. When the boy was 12 years old, his father sent him to the Noble Academy of Saarthal.

The boy found a lot of people like him. They were nobles, but their values completely differed. Brachius Vernan would listen to what the kids his age talked about, yet he found it all so superficial.

If the boy was honest with himself, he much preferred listening to the worries of commoners. On the days when he didn't have to go to school, he would visit little flower shops or merchants' booths in the capital city.

He especially loved visiting this granny's flower shop when he had free time. The old wrinkled woman would smile at him.

"You've come again today, young man? Have you found someone special to give flowers to?"

Brachius shook his head. "As if there would be anyone like that. The girls at the academy only care about what you have in your coffers. I've gotten some proposals in the form of letters, but I wish that it wasn't like this."

The old woman walked out from behind her counter and sat next to the little boy on her bench. "I see...And you fancy yourself as different from them?"

Brachius looked down at the ground and kicked his feet up in the air. "I don't really see myself as anything. Is there any meaning to any of the things that we do? I often wonder about it. Why do they fill our heads with education about how to collect taxes? Why do we need to attend all of these dancing classes?"

"I thought the human god was all about diligence and duty to kingdom?" The woman asked him with a soft gaze.

"Human god? I have no idea. The only things we know are what the church and upper echelon of the kingdom gives us. Do you really think that such a being cares about what we do?"

The old woman chuckled. "You know that what you just said could be considered heresy in front of guards?"

"Yeah, but you are not a guard. You are just a flower granny."

She started laughing even more and stood from the bench. "I guess that is all I am, isn't it?" She reached towards a beautiful vase of flowers, and she took it out of the shelf. The old woman handed it to the little boy with a grin. "Here, these will serve you well when you do find that special woman. Take care of this well, and then you might understand the meaning of life."

Brachius took the plant without even thinking about it. He'd never gotten a proper request from the granny, so he diligently obeyed. The boy took the vase of flowers to his house in the city and planted it in his backyard flower garden.

The next day, he tried to go back to that woman, but she'd left. The little boy struggled to find her and even went to the merchant's guild to ask for answers, but they said she left the next day. And no matter how many days passed, she would not show up again.

Brachius continued studying at the academy, and during his off time, he would visit more commoners' shops. He would ask them how their business was. He would seek out people in the merchant's guild. He would talk to soldiers to see what the world was like.

The child eventually learned how spoiled he truly was. He learned about the slums and the shady business dealings of the underground. He learned that this kingdom didn't value the lives of its commoners at all. Soldiers were sent into battlefields that they would never return from.

Brachius realized that it was only by the sacrifice of so many people that he could live so lavishly. Had his father known that all along? Was that the reason they rarely went to the city? Living in the countryside away from all of the suffering seemed like a much better deal.

The little boy saw another little boy begging at the corner of a street. He wore rags and mud clung to his slender frame. The other boy's cheeks were sunken, and he held a small canteen out in front of him. His voice rasped at traveler's by.

"A coin...food?"

Most of the others looked at the boy with pity. They passed and tried to ignore him.

Brachius reached out with his hand towards the boy and dropped a silver coin into his canteen.

"Here…"

"Thank you," the boy rasped.

Brachius turned his head and went on about his way, feeling good about himself, yet an old man got his attention from behind his food stall.

"You think you're something special, boy? Do you think that was a good thing you've done?"

Brachius turned towards the old man and stared at him with confusion. "Why do all of you ignore him? Is it not normal for you to want to help?"

The old man sighed and grumbled. "You're not helping anyone. You just wanted to feel better about yourself. What will happen tomorrow? That little boy will come back here, and he will beg you for another silver piece. Will you give it to him? And what about the next day? What happens when he tells all of his little friends that you are doing this? Will you be able to pay for all of their dinners? Get over yourself, brat."

Brachius' eyes widened, and his cheeks reddened. He'd felt angered by the man's harsh words, but he found nothing he could disagree with. He thought about all of those other kids at the academy. Am I really just like them, after all? Everything I do...the reason I talk to commoners, is it all just fake?

The elderly man sighed again and pulled an apple from his cart. He walked over and handed it to Brachius. "Here, take this apple, little boy. I can't have you just thinking I'm some grumpy old man, after all."

Brachius took the apple and stared at it. It was a beautiful red color, and he could faintly see his reflection in the fruit's moisture. His noble hair was styled perfectly.

Little Vernan walked towards a nearby window and stared at his own reflection. He saw how his outfit stood out among the crowd. Each of the commoners wore rags or linens, and he had fine cotton clothes. They were a royal red and form fitted to him perfectly.

The elderly man came up behind him and looked at his reflection with the boy. He reached out and ruffled Brachius' hair. "I tell you what, young man. You should come back here tomorrow. I will give you another apple."

Brachius looked down at the apple and took a bite of its flesh. The sweetness and crunchiness of it made the boy smile. "This is really good, sir."

"I'm no sir. Just call me Todd."

"Then...You should call me Brachius."

The elderly man chuckled. "I already know who you are. Several people around here have been talking about a little boy that runs around and pretends to be a commoner. I don't understand the type of play kids are into these days, but I can understand a curious kid when I see one. I will learn you all kinds of things."

Brachius nodded and went about his way. He made a promise to himself that he would bring even more coins the next day.

When the next day arrived, Brachius handed a silver coin to two different little boys. They thanked him immediately and ran back into their alleyway.

Once again, Todd sighed when he saw what Brachius did. "If you really want to help some gutter rats, you should teach them instead of giving things to them."

"I can't teach them much if their stomachs are empty, can I?" Brachius asked. He looked at the fruits on Todd's stall. "Aren't you going to give me an apple?"

The old man chuckled. "You really believed me when I said that? Oh well, how about this." He reached towards another orange-yellow fruit and plucked it off the stand. "Try this one instead."

Brachius looked at the slightly oblong fruit and tilted his head, his gaze becoming confused. "What is it? It's different than any fruit I've seen."

Todd shrugged. "I have no idea. I thought you would like it. The merchant said it came from the Granchin's country."

"You mean you would serve me something that you've not eaten yourself? What if it's poisoned?"

The old man grumbled. "You think we have time to care about if something is poisoned? Look boy, I've been doing business in this part for years, if someone tried to sell me a poisoned fruit, I'd know it first. Those disgusting bastards are more likely to be your ilk anyway."

"My ilk?"

"Yeah, noble brats with high noses. Look at you. You even have a different outfit on today. Did you get them boots from your daddy?"

Brachius ground his teeth together and chomped down on the soft fruit. A heavenly sweet flavor invaded his tongue, and he felt pure bliss.

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