Being ordinary and poor must have stung Lester's pride like nothing else could. From the very start, all he had wanted was a convenient punching bag to release some stress. Lester knew that I didn't have any money to pay him off with. Still, I played my part and reached into my empty pockets.

Once the fatty had stretched out his hand, sweaty palm up, I ducked under his flabby arms. No way would I play along with his crap. Once again, I had provoked the school bully for no good reason, so I would have to trust my legs. Before Lester's gang could close their circle around me, I slipped through the biggest gap in their formation. A tug on my right sleeve held me back, but with a violent pull, I freed myself from the last restraint and ran.

“Get him!”

“Don't let the little bastard get away!”

I could hear Lester and his gang scream behind me, but I didn't care. Focused on the road ahead, I only ran as fast as my legs allowed. Across the street and onto the other sidewalk, I rushed past the wind. Further and further.

This always happened. I’d get myself out of trouble, only to jump right back in when I saw someone else bear the brunt for me. It wasn’t as if any of them were ever grateful for it either. As a skinny orphan in a fancy, upper-class school I was already a target, and my actions only made things worse. After repeating the same pattern for years, I had grown used to running. Still, my scrawny legs had made me a crap sprinter, or marathon runner, for that matter.

Case in point, I could hear the fatty’s minions gain on me. Even the labored breath of my closest pursuer could be heard over the sound of our frantic steps. Of course I always tried to get away after I had provoked danger again. Sometimes I did, more often I didn’t. This would have to be one of the bad times again.

However, out of nowhere, I could feel strength enter my wobbly legs again. A sudden burst of speed left the pursuer’s breath behind me, then his steps.

With my breath uneven and a constant breeze past my ears, I ran through one fancy alley after another. The shouts from behind had long been lost to the wind. Never had I shaken them this well. Ever. Maybe the years of involuntary training had paid off at last. As my panic turned into confidence, my breath evened and my steps became strides. I took in a deep breath of the clear air and thought about my future. As a conflict between hopes and responsibilities brewed inside me, I didn't look back once.

Still in full stride, I turned past the broken gate of our home, through the fence and into our old property. I slowed down to make sure I wouldn't trample the garden. Calm steps carried me past gravel and azaleas. The gravel didn't matter, but the azaleas had been Eileen's favorite. Those were important.

My hands on my hips, I stared up at our fancy mansion and tried to calm my heaving chest. Old vines had crawled their way up the white plaster, almost to the top floor. Another year and they might lick on the highest windows. Maybe it was time for a trimming, I thought.

Of course we could have lived in a simpler house. It would have been easier to maintain and we would have had more money left at the end of the month, maybe I could have even bought enough food to fill out a bit. However, moving wasn't an option for us. Our family had lived here for three generations, right after my grandparents had been awarded the place from the City Council.

My grandmother had been a writer, and a damn good one. With her talent, the Rovis family had been able to move here and become part of the upper class. Successful artists were always respected in the city, so it had been easy to get the move approved.

A house right in the central district, only four streets away from the community center, a perfect spot. Our neighbors had also been quick to warm to the talented author. Of course, the neighborhood had soured to our presence once we had been left without parents. No one in these parts would socialize with street rats.

Once my breath had returned to me, I stepped up to the porch and knocked on the door. The doorbell had run its course some two weeks ago. Another thing I had to fix, right after I was done with the front gate.

“Coming!” I heard an annoyed voice from inside.

With a violent tug, the old door swung open to reveal my little sister Amelia in all her moody glory. Shoulder-length black hair, glowing earrings and a bratty attitude. My cute sister was going through a phase, though I didn't know which one. Although I said 'little', Amy wasn't much younger than me.

“Yo, Brayden. How'd it go?” For a second his sister seemed almost concerned. She waited half a sentence before she checked her phone.

“Hi Amy. I'm back,” I said with a big smile on my face. In response, Amelia's narrow eyes grew and her mouth drove open like a garage door. I knew she had misunderstood, so I tried to alleviate her fears.

“Don't worry. I failed the test. Completely normal.” For a second Amy stared me down, before her expression returned to apathy.

“Then why grin like an idiot? Nate's here, by the way. Been waiting all day.”

“Thanks, I'll-”

Not even halfway through my answer, Amelia turned around and stomped up the stairs.

“-be right there,” I said to myself as I stared after her back. Definitely a phase.

I went into the living room to find Nate on one of the old couches, a can of soda in his hand. We didn't have any in the house, but I guessed he had brought his own. He usually did. With an unwilling grunt, Nate forced his body up with his hands, grabbed a second can from the couch table and lumbered towards me.

“Hey buddy. A drink to celebrate your adulthood. Thought I'd come by and join in the festivities.”

As always, Nate carried that wide grin around with him. This time, it seemed even more genuine than usual. I was touched. No matter the outcome of my assessment, his words would have been spot on. If I had passed the test, they would be perfect to open our celebrations. If I had failed, they would console me. Nate was always good at this sort of thing. Not surprising, since it was his job.

“Thanks, Nate.” I grabbed the soda with one hand and gave my warden a halfway hug with the other. “There's nothing to celebrate though. I failed.”

“Nothing to celebrate?” As Nate's grin turned sly his eyes threatened to disappear under his excess fat. How could it be that Lester looked so detestable, but the same expression on the middle-aged caretaker looked so endearing?

“There's plenty reason for a celebration. You're eighteen. You're an adult now, buddy.”

Nate slapped my shoulder and once again plopped his heavy body into the couch. For a moment the poor upholstery threatened to swallow him whole, before the old springs gave some token resistance. With much less drama, I sat on the chair across, the coffee table between us.

“So, how do you wanna celebrate?” Nate clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

“No idea, to be honest. It's not like we can splurge on anything big... and I'm not out of the rut quite yet.” The can in my hand opened with a refreshing fizz. “I'll think about a celebration once my work recommendation shows up. I just hope they find something good for me. We could really use more than the minimum supplies and I have no confidence in my artistic skills.”

“In that case, you're in luck!” Nate bent down to his briefcase. Even though he wasn't an office worker, I had never seen him without it. From within his prized possession, Nate pulled a piece of paper, frayed and crumpled at the edges, and held it over the table. Confused, I reached over. Just one line in and my eyes had turned the size of saucers.

“That's...”

“Yeah, it is.” I heard Nate's self-satisfied reply from beyond the table. “I talked to a couple people, cashed in a few favors. You can't be a mage in the future, but this way, at least we can be colleagues.”

As I looked back up, my mouth formed a smile all on its own. Whatever had been left of my crummy mood had disappeared.

“Nate, this is...” I tried to restrain the dumb grin on my face. A caretaker could never be selfish. “Didn't this make trouble for you?”

“Don't worry buddy. It was a lot easier than you'd think. These days, not many people want to take proper work anymore. Especially not as caretaker.”

Although Nate was right, I still felt guilt. Though of course, the expert caretaker responded before I could open my mouth to apologize.

“Seriously, leave it. I thought we were past apologies. If you feel bad about it, help me out and make my work a bit easier from now,” he said with a wink, “Don't expect a joyride though. Not all my wards are as easy to deal with as you siblings. This job is hard work. As far as machines go, people are pretty complex.”

As always, Nate read me like a book. Nothing less of a caretaker who had spent five years with his wards.

“Yeah, I'll do my best. It's what I wanted after all,” my meek self answered.

Though it wasn't as glamorous as a mage, caretaker was a good second choice. Be responsible for the less fortunate and improve their lives. Of course, the extra cash wouldn't hurt. I could give Amy the time and leisure to fulfill her own dreams. While I sipped on the sticky sweetness of the soda, I was lost in future plans. Only when Nate got up and brushed off his spotless pants did I return to the present.

“Welp, I'll be off then.” Nate made his way to the door, and I stood to follow.

“You're going already? But we have to celebrate!” I said, louder than necessary. Nate stopped and turned in response.

“You can do that with Amy. I don't wanna intrude on your family moment.” With a grin, his eyes motioned upstairs, towards Amy's room.

“Nate, you're as much part of this family as anyone.”

“Not today, buddy,” he said with a smile and raised a finger. “First lesson: No matter what, you're always an outsider to your wards. Don't be too intrusive. Sometimes, it's best to leave people some space.”

Disappointed, I accompanied my former caretaker and future colleague to the front door.

“Okay, tomorrow I'll come by early so we can share a cab. You best shape up and be ready by eight, got it?” Nate said, his voice chipper as ever.

“Got it.” I threw a casual salute back in response. I had seen those in the movies and thought they looked fun.

My hand was already on the door, ready to close it, but Nate turned again and looked up the front stairs.

“Oh, and maybe you shouldn't look so happy. Someone might be disappointed otherwise.”

One moment of thought and I had understood what he meant. Although I was good at reading people, Nate was a whole lot better. We said our goodbyes, before I went back inside and I looked up the stairs. From today on, I wasn't a kid anymore. If I wanted to take care of others, I should at least be able to handle my own sister.

Soon I was upstairs and in front of Amy's room. Emboldened by the soda’s sugar rush, I ignored the 'Keep Out' sign and dared to knock.

“Amy?”

“What,” came back the moody voice I had grown accustomed to.

“Nate went home. I'll... just get to bed early. Gotta get up early tomorrow.”

Through the door, I offered my best 'gloomy Brayden' impression. With a final, “sorry I didn't make it,” I left and went towards my room. It wasn't far, just one door down.

Inside, I sat on my old, worn-out mattress. I ignored the VR headset and the frayed books, the biggest treasures in my possession. There weren't many physical copies of books anymore, so my grandmother's antiques were special, but I anticipated another rarity. Only moments later, I heard a door open and tiptoes rush down the stairs. I knew that Amy wouldn't leave me by myself. After all, Amy seemed a bit childish at times, but she was much more mature than others her age. With the way the city spoonfed all of us from birth, the only way to develop any level of responsibility was to grow up in harsh circumstances like ours.

A smile formed on my lips as I heard her ascend on the creaking steps. I tried my hardest to pull down the corners of my mouth. By the time Amy's shadow blocked the crack of light under my door, I had succeeded. A few seconds of hesitation and a knock announced my guest.

“Come in.”

Amy traipsed into my room, a guilty look on her face. She hemmed and hawed for a while, as she shifted her weight back and forth.

“What's up sis?” I asked with a smile tinged in fake sadness.

“Hey, Brayden... I made something... and wondered if you'd like a taste.” From behind her back Amy appeared a cake.

Already cut. She prepared this a while ago.

“For me?” I asked in real surprise. Amy didn't spend much time in the kitchen.

“Just don't be weird about it,” she said in a brusque tone and plopped herself onto the old office chair next to my bed. “Take a piece. Tell me how it is.”

Eyes narrowed, I scrutinized the moist chocolate cake. It didn't look bad. With impeccable deduction, I assumed a prank and peered at Amy for confirmation. My probing stare was met with a nod and a simper, nothing more.

I steeled my heart. Worst case scenario, I'd just have to fake it. Determined, I brought the cake to my mouth and took a courageous bite. The taste was-

“It's... delicious?”

“Isn't it though?” Amy beamed as she took a bite as well. Only now did I realize that the cake had come incomplete. That sister of mine must have tried her creation already.

“Got the recipe off the Aether and everything.”

My annoyed stare bored itself into Amy's conscience. My sister could do a lot of things, but baking wasn't one of them.

“Nate helped a bit,” she caved as her eyes fled out the window. Even in the middle of her phase, Amy was still Amy. Always friendly and helpful, even though she was timid as a rabbit in front of strangers. She must have prepared all day to cheer me up, but my chipper mood had betrayed her efforts.

By this point, my disappointment was long gone. I was glad about my failed magic test, and felt bad about my previous excitement. Had I become a mage, Amy would have been alone. Things were better like this.

“Thanks Amy. Today was a good day after all.”

I took another big bite. Back then, I still had no idea what consequences this innocuous day would have, both for me and for the entire city.