Once he was outside, Atlas paused to take in the view. A river of people pushed past each other as they each moved with a purpose.

Atlas looked back behind him to see if his mother had noticed his disappearance before he waddled into the crowd. He easily slipped through the crowd thanks to his little size. He pushed past their legs one after another, and he was making good distance. Because of his small size, however, he was not able to tell where he was even going. All he could see was the backs of the adults, the sky, and the ground. He could not see past the crowd, and before he knew it, he was in the center of the mass of people.

As he moved, the packed crowd slowly shrunk, and soon Atlas was able to walk a comfortable distance away from the other people. After a couple minutes of getting pulled by the flow of the crowd, little Atlas found himself in the outskirts of the market. What he saw was unlike anything he had seen before. There were no colorful tents. The people were not well-dressed. The entertainers were nowhere in sight.

The stalls looked plain and the people's clothes weren't flashy. Although they did not look impoverished, Atlas's first view of the middle-class was a shock. The young noble looked back at the remnants of the market crowd. He debated in his head whether or not he should turn back around.

Atlas finally came to the decision to stay. He had never seen a place like this, and now was his chance to see what it was like. In his past excursions to the town, he had only seen the rich life of the upper-class. He had never seen what it was like to be average.

When he looked back at the dull stalls, Atlas was greeted with the gazes of all the vendors. It seems that Atlas's outfit and indecisive demeanor, added to the somewhat empty street made him stand out.

Atlas shrugged off their stares and made his way down the street. He looked left and then he looked right. The boy's head swiveled like a top as he shuffled along.

As he walked, he felt his expectations slowly crumble. He thought he would find something fun or interesting, but all he saw was the same, plain buildings and vendors. There were no street performers. There were no colorful patterns. It was all just the casual look of the middle-class. The excitement in Atlas's eyes died down. Atlas's look was a very amusing sight for the vendors. A little noble was getting his first taste of ordinary life. A couple of the more bitter vendors sneered at the lad's naivety.

"'Young master', how about giving us some gold since you have so much at home?"

"Hey, missy, you're not gonna find any of your pretty dresses here! Oh wait, you're a boy? Your skin looked so soft, I thought you were a girl!"

"Oi! did the Lord of some family drop off his illegitimate? Bah! I wish I had the money to fool around with women!"

Atlas's lip quivered as the vendors' words echoed around him. He didn't understand everything they said, but he knew they weren't good words. Instead of looking around, his head dipped down and he continued to walk. He wanted to go back to find his mother, but he had lost himself along the way. The ordinary look of the town made it hard for the boy to navigate.

Seeing the boy's mood drop, some vendors came to their senses and stopped their teasing. Many vendors, however, continued with their jeers. The insults continued until a commotion began stirring among the shop keepers.

"Hey, brat! What do you think you're doing this time!"

"You filthy beggar, why are you showing your face here again!"

Atlas lifted his head and looked behind himself to see what was causing the racket.

What he saw was an older boy, probably thirteen or fourteen, sweeping past the stalls that had been insulting him.

The boy had orange, spiky hair and pale skin. He was dressed in brown overalls and a plain white shirt. Freckles dotted his grinning face as he ran past the stalls. When he passed a stall, his hand would dart out and take something from the display. The youth went by four stalls before he caught up with Atlas.

The boy paused next to Atlas and looked back at the vendors. He pulled down the skin under his eye and stuck his tongue out at the shop keepers.

"Peh! If you're gonna bully a kid, you deserve to get stolen from! Hey kid, come with me!"

Seeing the vendors getting out of their stalls, the mischievous boy grabbed Atlas and ran through the street's alleyways.

The two went through many twists and turns. After several minutes, the older boy stopped in the middle of an alley. He turned on his heels to face Atlas with a grin plastered on his face.

"I'm Jimmy! Who are you? You some kind of noble? I didn't think you guys visited these places."

Atlas wasn't sure how to react. He had just been harassed by the shop keepers, and now he had no idea where he was. The youth did seem friendly, however, so he relaxed a little.

"I-I'm Atlas... Atlas Everwish. I guess I'm a noble...."

The boy named Jimmy nearly jumped when he heard Atlas.

"You guess you're a noble?! You're not lying about your name, right?! If you're an Everwish, you're being pretty humble by saying 'I guess I'm a noble!' Isn't your dad the Lord Everwish? You guys are the big dogs of this town!"

The words spewed from Jimmy's mouth. Instead of answering Jimmy's questions or thinking of his status, the only thing that came to Atlas's mind was that Jimmy liked to talk a lot.

"Hey, hey, I helped you back there, didn't I? That makes us friends! Since we're friends, you can hook me up with a reward, right? You guys won't miss a bag of gold, will you? If you can't do that, then you could at least let me be one of your servants!"

Jimmy's eyes flashed as if he had hit the jackpot. He had been spending his life alone in these streets for the past couple of years. If he could gain the favor of this little master, he would be able to live an easy life. Living as a noble's servant, especially the Everwish's servant, would be tens - no - hundred times better than how he was living now. Honestly, Jimmy hated his current life. He didn't like stealing, but it was something he had to do to get by; thus he only stole from those he saw displeasing to his eyes.

Unfortunately for Jimmy, Atlas shook his head. He then pointed at Jimmy's bag.

"You stole those. Good people don't steal, and I can't be friends with people who aren't good."

The color drained from Jimmy's face. He quickly set his bag down and rushed for an answer.

"I-I didn't steal - well I did I guess - but it was for a good purpose! I promise! What if I were actually sell these and give the money back to the poor! Wouldn't that make me a good person?"

Atlas shook his head once again.

"That just means you're making those people steal too. It's okay if you're poor as long as you're a good person. That's what my dad told me."

Jimmy wanted to pull his hair out after hearing the child's response.

"But those guys were mean to you. Don't you think they deserved it?"

Atlas paused after hearing that question, but finally shook his head a third time.

"Just because they aren't good, it doesn't mean we shouldn't either...."

Jimmy had taken three blows in a row. Did this kid have no gaps in his justice?

"O-okay, if I give these back, will I be a good person?"

Despite being a thief, Atlas had a good impression of the boy in front of him. He also wanted to be friends, and thought that it would be good if he became a good person.

Atlas nodded his head, saying,

"If you give those back to them and pay them back for the trouble, you'll be good."

Jimmy didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

There was no getting past this child's sense of justice.