Chapter Text
It was a day like any other for Felt.
The gold coins were warm in her pocket, reminding her of the woman she had stolen them from. That was an easy mark, someone too trusting for a city like this. Felt didn’t feel guilty, as guilt didn’t buy bread, but she also didn’t feel proud of what she did.
Nah, that's a lie. She did feel proud. Can you blame her? Not everyone can do what she did so easily. It took skill, to be a thief.
Yes, she was a thief, but not by choice. Choice was a luxury, and the slums of the royal capital had never been generous with luxuries. Here, children learned early that the world had already decided their worth. If you wanted to live, you sold something: your body, your soul, or your hands.
Felt didn't want to lose her dignity, so she sold her hands.
As she was walking back home, she looked around. Broken walls, broken people, broken dreams piled atop one another until no one could remember how it had started. These were the slums, a place that was paradoxically full of people, but devoid of life. Most of the residents here had given up, waiting for tomorrow to be exactly like today.
Felt wasn’t like that.
There was a fire in her chest that refused to die, even when hunger gnawed at her ribs. One day... One day, she and old man Rom would leave this place behind. One day, they’d have a real home.
She kept thinking as she turned down the familiar alley. She then slowed as her “house”, if you could call it that, came into view.
Then she stopped.
Someone was sitting there.
A young man lounged against the half-broken wall as if he belonged, legs stretched out, with an apple held loosely in one hand. He bit into it leisurely.
When his eyes met hers, they lit up. Had he been waiting for her?
“Oh,” he said, grinning. “There you are.”
Felt’s hand slipped closer to her knife.
“Who the hell are you?!” she demanded.
The man stood, dusting himself off with a careless air. He wore a white tunic, with black and orange patterns woven into it. A star-shaped earring dangled from his left ear, light reflecting into it. His eyes were scary to look at, with a bright golden color, and his hair was messy, and white as snow.
His appearance was pretty unusual, but beneath it, there was something like warmth. Like he was smiling not just with his mouth, but with his whole body. It's hard to describe, but he just exuded an approachable aura.
Exactly because he felt so approachable, Felt was wary of him. His whole vibe was incongruous with the area that surrounded them. Someone like that shouldn't be found in the slums.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.
“That’s already suspicious,” Felt shot back. “I don’t remember inviting any fancy noble.”
He laughed softly. “Fair. Though I am not a noble. Sorry to disappoint.”
"As for who I am... you can call me Flügel."
She squinted. “And why are you here outside my place?”
“I’ve got a commission,” he said lightly. “And I’m looking to buy something from old man Rom’s Loot House.”
Her guard rose instantly. “You don’t look like the usual kind.”
“I get that a lot.”
He tilted his head. “You’re close to Rom, right? The people here told me so. I figured you could guide me there. You know, two birds, one stone.”
Felt hesitated. She really didn't trust this guy... buuuuut he did say the word "commission".
A very nice word, that one.
“…You pay?” she asked.
“Yuh huh.”
She turned away. “Don’t lag behind.”
They walked.
The slums swallowed them as they moved. They walked between the narrow alleys, the rotting wood, and the smell of damp stone. Flügel moved like he wasn’t bothered by any of it, as if the filth didn’t cling to his boots.
It did. His boots were pretty filthy at the moment.
“So,” he said casually, “you’ve lived here long?”
“All my life,” Felt replied. “I grew up in this shitty place.”
“Doesn’t seem fair,” he murmured.
She glanced at him. “Fair’s not a word that lives here. Everything here turned to shit because the kingdom doesn't give a damn about us.”
He nodded, thoughtful. “What do you think of the people?”
“They’ve given up,” she said bluntly. “Most of ’em are just waiting to die.”
“And you?”
She snorted. “Obviously not.”
“An indomitable spirit." He chuckled. "Thought so.”
She frowned. “You talk weird.”
“Occupational hazard.”
They walked in silence for a while before he spoke again.
“You know, I like listening to wishes,” Flügel said.
“…Huh?”
“People’s wishes,” he repeated. “The things they want most. The things they’re afraid to say out loud.”
His eyes moved to the sky.
"Have you got something like that?"
She scoffed. “You’re a weirdo.”
He didn’t deny it.
They walked on. The sound of footsteps echoed between them, and before she realized it, the words slipped out.
“...I want out.”
He looked at her.
“I want to leave the slums,” Felt said quietly. “Me and old man Rom. I want a real life. And…” She clenched her fists. “I want someone to fix this damn broken kingdom.”
Flügel listened without interrupting. When she finished, he rested his hand on his chin, nodding slowly.
Then—
Snap.
He snapped his fingers.
The sound cut clean through the air.
“Oi, what was that for?” Felt asked, wearing a confused expression.
He smiled. “Don’t mind it. It's just a tick of mine.”
He kept walking.
“I think your wish will come true sooner than you believe. Maybe you'll get a once-in-a-lifetime occasion. ”
“…If you say so,” she muttered.
The Loot House came into view.
“Here it is,” Felt said, turning—
And froze.
Flügel was holding a familiar bag.
Her gold coins!
“I should apologize,” he said in a teasing tone. “I lied earlier.”
Her eyes widened.
“I didn't actually have a commission for you, and I didn't need anything from the Loot House. Also, well, I don’t just like hearing wishes,” he continued. “I like making them come true.”
“And you see, a woman wished to have her stolen coins returned."
He raised his arm.
Before she could move—
"See ya, Felt-sama."
Snap.
He was gone.
Silence rushed in to fill the space he left behind.
Only then did Felt remember. Lately, there had been whispers flying around, talking about a mysterious figure: the Wish Granter.
The man who appeared suddendly to help anyone who asked.
He who could grant any wish, with just a snap of his fingers.
She always thought these stories were fake. Something the slumdwellers told each other to feel better about their condition, to feel a little less despair.
She stared at the empty air, her heart pounding.
“...Sama?” she whispered.
Felt looked at the hand in front of her.
That pristine white glove was holding a small trinket, with a red gem inside of it. She recognized this object. It looked identical to the one she had stolen a few hours before from the silver-haired half elf. The one that would've got her killed, if the man in front of her hadn't shown up to defeat that mad customer of hers.
She took it in her palm, and the gem awakened, as crimson light spilled out.
"So he was telling the truth." Muttered the red-haired man with impeccable looks, his blue eyes focused on the light coming from the trinket—no, from the insignia.
He grabbed her arm. "I'm sorry miss, but you'll have to come with me."
Felt really wanted to refuse. No, she wanted to tell this guy to shove his Dragon Sword up his ass. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with him, as she had just survived a brush with death. She didn't care if meeting the Sword Saint was supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime occassion—
Words from some day ago resurfaced in her mind.
“I think your wish will come true sooner than you believe. Maybe you'll get a once-in-a-lifetime occasion."
Don't tell me...
"That fucker..."
A lone figure was seated on one of the rooftops of the slums, looking towards the Loot House, its roof now shattered.
It was a young man with raven-black hair and scary looking eyes. The man wore an orange scarf, a green jacket, and a long black-hooded cloak.
"Well," he said, smiling with quiet satisfaction, "guess that's settled."
Snap.
Suddendly, his clothes shifted, green dissolving into a white tunic, adorned with black and orange patterns. A star-shaped earring appeared on his left ear, and his black eyes turned gold. His hair grew a little, as it became white as snow.
"The night's still young." He stood up. "Let's go grant some other wishes."
Snap.
And the lone figure couldn't be seen anymore.