The dawn was still breaking, the sky a soft veil of gray at around six in the morning, when a group of about twenty children gathered outside the Sedona City News Agency. Boys, girls, and beastkin children stood together, their breaths visible in the chilly air, their thin clothes barely shielding them from the cold.\
"Brr… it's freezing!" A human girl chirped, her voice high and childish as she hopped from foot to foot, her small frame shivering under a threadbare tunic.
"Ale, did we come too early?" A boy asked, his lips trembling as he spoke, his eyes fixed on a red-haired boy nearby. "It's not even six yet, is it?" His voice was tinged with uncertainty, his body hunching against the chill, a faint flush of anxiety on his face.
"The night watch hasn't rung the six o'clock bell yet, but it's close," Ale replied, his voice steady despite his own shivers. At barely four feet tall, his fiery red hair stood out like a beacon, his eyes sharp with determination. He scanned the group, his gaze lingering on his companions' eager faces. "Better early than late. The city lord's giving us a chance like this—we can't mess it up."
The children had received word last night: Lord Lucas had work for them. The news had spread like wildfire, pulling them from their makeshift beds before dawn, their hearts racing with the promise of opportunity.
Dong! Dong! Dong…
Three patrol officers emerged from the nearby security bureau, their boots echoing on the cobblestones as they struck a gong six times, signaling six o'clock. Their uniforms were crisp, their movements purposeful, and the children watched in awe, their eyes wide with admiration.
"Ale, those patrol officers are so cool," The boy said, his voice bright with envy, his body leaning forward as he stared after them, his heart pounding with aspiration.
"Yeah, they are," Ale murmured, his gaze fixed on the officers' retreating figures, his small fists clenching. He wanted to be like them, strong and respected. "I'm going to be a patrol officer one day," He vowed silently, his body tingling with determination.
"Didn't Captain Andrew save you last time?" The boy asked, his voice tinged with awe.
"Yeah," Ale nodded, his red hair catching the faint dawn light. "Captain Andrew caught the guy bullying me and hauled him to the security bureau. He hasn't bothered me since." The memory warmed him, a flicker of gratitude in his chest, his body relaxing slightly at the thought of justice.
"What do you think the city lord wants us to do?" The boy asked, his voice dreamy with possibility. "Join the army?"
"Dream on," Ale said, rolling his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. "At our age and size, we wouldn't pass the first test." For orphans like them, the army was a golden dream, a path to stability and pride, but it was far out of reach.
"I was just saying," The boy mumbled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, his body slumping slightly.
By six-thirty, the distant clatter of hooves announced an approaching carriage, its polished wood gleaming in the early light. The children stepped back, their eyes wide with anticipation, their breaths catching as they stared at the carriage door, their bodies buzzing with nervous excitement.
Clip-clop.
Chris halted the carriage before the news agency, his cold gaze sweeping over the children before he dismounted and set up a small ladder. "Lord Lucas, we've arrived," He called, his voice gruff but respectful.
Creak.
The carriage door swung open, and Lucas stepped out, his presence commanding, his dark eyes sharp with purpose. Mina followed, her cat ears twitching, her movements fluid and alert. Lucas's gaze settled on the children, a pang of empathy stirring within him. Their ragged clothes and shivering forms spoke of hardship, and he saw echoes of his own past in their hungry eyes.
"Inside," Lucas said, waving a hand, his voice calm but firm. He strode into the agency, Mina at his side, her protective presence a silent reassurance. The children, after a quick search by the War Wolf squad, followed, their footsteps hesitant but eager, their bodies trembling with the weight of the moment.
They were led to a spacious room—the future editor-in-chief's office—its air thick with the scent of fresh wood and ink. Lucas stood at a desk, his fingers tapping rhythmically, his gaze sweeping over the twenty orphans, most around twelve or thirteen. Their heads were bowed, some trembling.
Tap, tap, tap.
"Look up," Lucas said, his voice warm, a smile softening his features. "I'm not here to eat you." His tone was gentle, dispelling the need for lordly intimidation. These were children, not soldiers, and he wanted them at ease, their trust a spark that warmed his chest.
His words coaxed the children, their heads lifting cautiously, their eyes darting to him before flitting away, their bodies tense with awe. Their lips were pale from the cold, their clothes patched and worn.
"Mina," He said, beckoning her closer. He leaned in, his fingers brushing her cat ear as he whispered instructions, the contact brief but deliberate. Mina's cheeks flushed, her body swaying slightly as she nodded, her cat ears twitching with sensitivity. "Yes, my lord," She murmured, her voice unsteady as she slipped out of the room.
"I called you here for a job," Lucas said, his voice steady and serious, his eyes scanning the children. Many of their parents had died of hunger or illness, leaving them to scrape by in a harsh world. Though they now live in the city's orphanage.
Ale stepped forward, his red hair blazing, his voice ringing with respect. "Please, Lord Lucas, tell us what to do."
"Your job is to sell this," Lucas said, his dark eyes lingering on Ale for a moment before he lifted a newspaper from the desk. "It's called a newspaper. Each sells for two steel coins, and you'll earn one steel coin for every sale." His voice was calm but carried a weight that made the children's breaths hitch, their eyes locking onto the paper, their bodies tensing with excitement.
Lucas's lips twitched upward. The printing department had produced five hundred copies, the cost carefully controlled at one steel coin for two papers, yielding a modest profit of two hundred fifty steel coins. This was a trial run; if sales were strong, they'd print more, expanding the agency's reach.
"How do we sell them, my lord?" Ale asked cautiously, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest, his body leaning forward with curiosity.
"Like this," Lucas said, holding up a newspaper and launching into an explanation, his voice clear and engaging. He detailed how to approach customers, highlight stories, and handle coins.
Ten minutes later, the orphans nodded, their faces a mix of understanding and uncertainty, their young minds grappling with the task.
Creak.
Mina returned, her arms laden with a sack of steaming buns, their warm, yeasty scent filling the room. She set them before the children, her cat ears twitching as she stepped back.
"Eat," Lucas said, leaning on one hand, his voice gentle but firm. "Fill your stomachs, then prepare. The agency will provide breakfast from now on." His words were a promise, a small gesture that warmed his chest, his body relaxing with the thought of easing their hunger.
Five hundred newspapers split among twenty children meant each could earn over seventy copper coins a month—enough to sustain them, to give them a future.
"Thank you, Lord Lucas!" Ale said, stepping forward to take a bun, his voice ringing with gratitude, his small body trembling with emotion.
"Thank you, Lord Lucas!" The others echoed, their voices a chorus of awe and relief. Some children's eyes glistened, tears welling as they bit into the warm buns, their bodies shaking with the weight of kindness they rarely knew.
"Work hard," Lucas said, his voice serious but kind, his eyes meeting theirs. "Earn money, learn to read and write. That's your path forward." He saw his own past in their faces, the struggle and the hunger.
"Yes!" The children shouted, some voices breaking with emotion, their bodies straight with determination. The world had been harsh, but today, one man's kindness washed away countless slights, igniting a spark of hope in their young hearts.
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