Every city, town, or even the smallest village has two faces. The first one is what people usually see the moment their eyes land on it. Such a view often evokes generic feelings about the place. It looks too overcrowded, too spacious, too cramped, and so on. However, along with this always comes the second face. The face that one only discovers when they are willing to cast the first impression aside, set foot into the streets of the particular place, and discover its true appearance, hidden within the streets.

Rotler was the perfect example of this rule. Just as Alma had said before, this city looked like a giant prison. Everything was gray with only a few colors here and there to mix up the looks. The roofs were often flat, making the place look like a series of boxes in the biggest warehouse in the world. And to top it all off, windows were usually completely absent.

When the group finally set foot into the streets, however, everything changed, and the true face of Rotler began to poke out of the prison-like appearance. Although the houses were all made of stone, tiny pebbles were attached to the walls to create various shapes near the entrances and corners of the buildings. Ismaya told them that the locals create such symbols themselves and that it is a custom that when a building gets transferred to a new owner, they change the look of the facade. This little decoration wasn't, however, the only element that seemed to transform the boring look of the city into something better. The buildings were practically never constructed at the same height and therefore, the streets were full of tunnels, stairs, balconies with cute little fences, and other similar designs that made moving around the place feel like a wonderful experience on its own. During a trip through one of the tunnels, Ismaya also explained why no building had a window. Wherever the would be darkness, there were blue glowing stones embedded into the walls. They did not illuminate the whole place on their own. Their purpose was slightly different. Everything in their vicinity was shining its own very faint light. This meant that in the tunnels and inside houses, one would never see a shadow and the place would always be lit up by everything in it. The same stone was also used in the city lamps, which looked like large metal poles with spheres at the top. Those spheres would, according to Ismaya, open at sunset and illuminate the entire city, making it seem as if the sun had never left the sky. The children were absolutely captivated by the sights around them. The town wasn't big, but what it lacked in size it carried in its spirit. The people welcomed the visitors with open arms. Even Glavas was caught by surprise. Almost everybody greeted them with a smile and went out of their way to welcome them to Rotler. The children were also given fruits and freshly baked pastries from some of the people. It all seemed like a place perfect for a rest after a lengthy journey.

It didn't take long and Ismaya stopped them in front of a massive building with various columns and pillars decorating its exterior. The three floors made it look like a fortress.

"This is the place I wanted to show you. Welcome to the orphanage of Rotler. Currently, it is rather empty, but once the other children come back from their field trip, roughly in three days or so, it will be way livelier," Ismaya explained.

"They are all on a field trip?" Alma asked.

"No, not all of them, but most. Only those who couldn't go for whatever reason stayed. Like little Wix over there." She pointed to a rather large playground next to the main building where a child, only a year or two younger than Alma and Surdi was playing on monkey bars. There was something strange about him, however. On his head, the boy wore a large stone helmet, which was riddled with magical symbols and covered his eyes. To accompany that, as if he was a model for some unusual fashion company, he wore two large stone rings around his ankles. If they were accompanied by a chain, they would very much look like shackles.

"Wix! Can you please come here?!" Ismaya shouted and the boy didn't wait one second to head their way. The way he walked, however, was also quite odd. Instead of running as most children would, he slid his feet along the ground, like a rollerskater without the rollerskates.

"Hello miss Ismaya. And hello you three. Are you new here? Can we play?" he started asking the moment he realized that two of the people standing there are around his age.

"In a moment, Wix. First, I need to introduce you. These are our visitors. Glavas, the tall one in the back. He's a hunter. Then the less tall one is one of his children, Surdi, he's a dragon. And the little one is Alma. She's a human like you." Wix didn't wait one moment and quickly tried to shake everyone's hands. "And this little boy is Wix. When I told you that we are accustomed to dealing with disabled children as well, I was being serious. Wix lost his eyes in an accident, along with most of his family. Here, we took him in and helped him at least remotely restore his eyesight."

[Is that why he looks like a golem spawn?] Surdi asked and Alma translated.

"Haha, yup, that's why I wear all this stone. The anklets collect information from the ground around me. They do like this... bzzzzt into the ground and then the ground does whooosh back. And that whooosh then goes into the helmet and I can see some shapes around me," the boy tried his best to explain the technology he was wearing.

"So you could even help with Surdi's hearing?" Glavas asked immediately.

"Oh? You're deaf?" Wix asked and approached the young dragon. "I've always wanted to try this. Can you sign me something?" He extended his arms, palms facing the area in front of Surdi's chest. "But do it slowly, okay? It's really hard." Surdi did his best to sign the word "something" with almost a mocking slowness.

"Something? Did you say something? That's awesome! I could figure that out!"

"Indeed, we can help him hear. If his hearing was damaged and not gone from his birth, we can simply make him a hearing aid," Ismaya explained.

[I'd rather die than wear that rock.] he pointed to Wix's helmet.

"That will not be necessary. It's just this small couple of runes that go in your ears. Nothing as big as what Wix has to wear."

Surdi frowned. [I don't know. I can read lips with my eyes and with a small help from magic. If I want to speak, I use my hands, or I can try and say something if it's really necessary. Besides, Glavas loves to play his deadly tunes, so it's best I never hear any of that.] Ismaya threw a surprised look at the elf, but he only dismissed her with a wave of his hand, signaling that he was going to tell her later.

"Wix, lunch will be ready, come inside!" somebody called out from the main door of the orphanage. A middle-aged human lady was standing there with a kind smile on her face.

"Would you two like to go too? You could try what life here is like and maybe taste something unusual today. Though unfortunately, I am afraid that Mr. Glavas is not allowed a lunch from the expenses of the orphanage." Ismaya tried to convince the children.

"Well..." Alma shrugged and looked at Surdi, who responded similarly.

"Hey, kiddos, this could be a good opportunity. A day spent with Wix and some other children could be fun, no? And you could document the taste of the food for me and then I will add it to my notebook, what do you say? I will also grab something to eat, get some job done if I'll find one, and then we'll meet here again in the evening, how about that?" Hearing such words from Glavas made them both slightly more eager to join.

"Fine, but if he's gonna be annoying, I will not shut up about it until we reach the next town." Alma rolled her eyes and she and Surdi both headed inside the orphanage.

"Well, I guess I will go eat something too. Do you know where there is a..."

"The nearest inn is east, just that way, about a three-minute walk. You can't miss it. The place will have a banner above the door," Ismaya instructed the hunter. "But are you sure you just want to leave afterward? Wouldn't it be best to say goodbye?"

"No. They would not let me leave. I will put some food in my stomach and be on my way. You will have to take care of the rest. I hope I can trust you with that."

"Don't worry, Mr. Glavas. As you saw with Wix, we know how to treat children. They will be safe here with us until we find them a suitable family. You have nothing to worry about," she assured him and then turned the other way. "I will come see you in the inn before you depart. In the meantime, I hope you will find our local specialties tasty." Ismaya waved and headed down towards the city center.

Glavas walked the way she told him and with every step, guilt and regret were crawling up his back. Leaving them here... was that really the best solution? No, it had to be. Rotler is great for finding suitable families. What they can do in a year would take him several. At least some of the childhood years they have left should be spent with someone normal. Someone who can keep them safe. Someone to give them hope for a bright future. Unfortunately, Glavas was not capable of any of that.

The inn of Rotler was a sight to behold. While the places Glavas usually visited were either noble beyond his wildest dreams or absolute hell holes, this one was the perfect middle ground. It didn't look too different from a tavern one would see in most towns. Round tables, people eating or drinking, then a bar with several stools, but this one also had a small podium with a reciting poet and a second floor, which was mostly open and allowed a perfect view of the events happening below.

"For what is life without a sacrifice that encases heart in the coldest ice..." said the poet the moment Glavas entered the establishment. People immediately turned toward him and offered their nods as a welcoming gesture. The elven hunter, however, didn't pay them much attention and only headed directly to the poet.

"Hey, songbird," he muttered his way.

"Umm... excuse me, I am in the middle of something here."

"I know. How much for you to recite something different?"

"Oh? A commission? Well, I take about fifty for a short poem or up to two hundred for a longer lyrical work."

"Great. Here's two hundred and how about you give me a long poetic silence?"

The man frowned at Glavas. "I am an artist."

"Yeah, and I'm about to have a really shitty day, so volume off," he replied and headed over to the bar. "What is the best food you have? Money is not an issue," he told the barkeep and tossed his purse onto the counter.

"Oh dear," escaped the man's lips when he saw the gold coins sitting inside the small leather pouch. "Well, that depends. Sweet or salty?"

"Anything."

"Then perhaps our Softies? Biscuits fluffy like clouds with pockets of sweet strawberry jam inside."

"Yeah, that sounds lovely. How big are they?"

The man pointed to one of the customers in his establishment, who happily raised a biscuit the size of his hand into the air.

"Cool, then I'll have three," he placed his order and looked into his bag for the notebook and pencil. His heart sank when deep inside one of the pockets, he noticed a single stray crayon.