Dream Of A Different Tomorrow

Nathan made a stupid face as he watched the Metal Wolf Gang leave. He sighed deeply and shook his head. Looking at the miserable expressions on everyone's faces, he climbed back onto the crate and waved for attention.

"Come on, guys, no need to be so down," Nathan stated lazily as his usual confidence returned. "You've seen enough of these people. This is the best I could do to keep you all safe."

But the audience still felt despairing. Aside from everything else, they had lost a lot of money from their already meager wallets. Nathan understood this as well. After a brief pause, he sighed and grabbed a bunch of coins from his own pockets.

"But again, you guys came to listen to my stories. It would be my fault if you returned home with a frown on your face, wouldn't it?" He smiled mischievously. "I suppose you remember how much money you gave to that stupid bastard. Just take back what you gave away."

Everyone's eyes seemed to brighten as they saw the coins and notes in Nathan's hand. They could tell from his clothes that he was at least somewhat wealthy, but this amount of money seemed almost unimaginable.

"How can we take your money?" an old woman asked weakly. "You always protect us when people ask for trouble, and all your stories are free… How can we take any more from you?"

A young man in the front of the crowd nodded. "It's fine, Nathan. We'll just treat it as payment for your lectures."

Hearing this, Nathan froze and broke into laughter.

"Look at the size of today's audience!" he declared loudly, his voice filled with energy. "I started my career as a storyteller last year, and look how many people I'm attracting! If you ask me, you've already paid me by making me so famous. If the numbers keep growing, one day all of Lostburg will know me. Isn't that enough?"

"And as for the money—it's not like I can spend all of it. Between making only myself happy and making everyone happy, I think I'm not stupid enough to misjudge which is better."

With that, the audience slowly approached and took their share of the money. Nathan watched quietly from the side. To his surprise, no one took more than they should have. After everyone had collected the money, there were still a couple of coins left.

Nathan swiftly whisked up the remaining coins and flipped over the crate. "Let's just call it a day, guys. It should be dinner time soon. I'll see you all at the same time tomorrow."

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the edge of a roof and tossed himself on top. With a sharp wave, he took off, parkouring across the roofs of Lostburg.

"Now, where is that old man…" he muttered as he raced along the rooftops, scanning the streets below for the only person in his family—his father, Eric Moderson.

In Nathan's life, no one meant more to him than his father.

Though unrefined and always out playing, Nathan's father loved him more than any other father in Lostburg ever could. In fact, most of the stories Nathan told came from his father. Nathan suspected that his father's messiness was simply an act to hide his true identity. He seemed… too smart, too special for an ordinary citizen of Lostburg.

No, it wasn't just a suspicion—Nathan was practically certain his father was someone extraordinary.

The amount of money Eric brought home was simply unreal, enough that Nathan could afford to share with his audience. In Lostburg, sharing money usually meant you'd starve, but Nathan had never known what hunger felt like. Furthermore, his father knew far too much about Rune Arts and the history of Runalond—knowledge that was exceptionally rare in Lostburg.

"Not here, not there…" Nathan whispered to himself as he searched the areas his father usually visited. "Hmmm, must be at the bar, then."

With a sharp turn, Nathan leaped to a distant roof. Though skinny, Nathan was healthily athletic. He wasn't the only one traversing the city this way; young boys in Lostburg treated parkouring on rooftops as one of their favorite pastimes. Nathan had long since gotten used to it.

Eventually, he jumped down and landed in front of a bar. The bar's name was scraped off and barely visible. No one bothered to maintain the area anyway.

But Nathan was sure his father was inside—he could already hear Eric's loud, boisterous voice.

He took a deep breath and kicked the door open. "Eric Moderson, come out right now!"

The people inside the bar paused and glanced at Nathan for a brief moment before quickly returning to their business, leaving him standing awkwardly by the door. He squeezed further into the dim chamber and, sure enough, there his father was, playing cards with a bunch of scoundrels.

"Geez, do you have any idea what time it is?" Nathan patted his father's back powerfully, though it barely made Eric flinch.

Eric turned around and replied softly, "One more game, Nathan. The atmosphere's good today. Just let me finish this one, and I'll go with you." He carried the same signature smile Nathan always had. Anyone could easily tell they were father and son.

Everyone else at the table laughed wildly and mocked Eric. "Look at that! Seems the king has no say at home—even his son bosses him around. Is that why your wife left you? Hahaha!"

Because Eric shared the same first name and hair color as the current king, he had earned the nickname "king" among his friends. Unlike Nathan, Eric had shiny blonde hair, though it was tainted brown from his unhygienic habits. Their hair color was the only difference in their appearance. Eric always said Nathan had inherited his black hair from his mother.

Nathan barely remembered his mother. Eric had told him she left temporarily for something extremely important. Whether she was still alive or not, neither Nathan nor Eric had any idea. Nathan didn't expect her to return, and deep down, he somewhat blamed her for abandoning her family.

He had only a faint idea of what she looked like, and it wasn't even of her face. All he could remember was her thick, fancy coat—far too elegant for Lostburg. The hood had concealed her face completely in darkness.

"I don't even bother arguing with people like you," Eric replied calmly to the man who mocked him. "Beat me in the game first." He shook his head and continued playing cards. The table roared with laughter at his carefree statement.

Beside him, Nathan sighed and covered his face with his hands.

Despite it all, Eric Moderson was a great man, a great friend, and an even greater father. Whatever secrets his father kept buried in his heart, Nathan was extremely interested, but didn't care too much. He knew the love his father had for him was real, and that was enough.