Chapter 2

The boy, a seasoned denizen of the bustling streets, possessed an intimate knowledge of the route leading to the grand palace. Having trodden the familiar paths of his youth countless times, his feet bore the calluses of endless journeys, and his mind held a map of every alley and avenue. As he ventured towards the palace under the veil of night, the well-worn familiarity of the path brought a sense of comfort amidst the eerie silence that enveloped the deserted streets.

With each step he took, the boy's resolve solidified, his determination unwavering despite the shadows that loomed ominously around him. The flickering flame of his oil lamp cast dancing shadows on the cobblestones, illuminating his path with a warm, golden glow that seemed to push back the encroaching darkness.

As he approached the imposing gates of the palace, a surge of anticipation mixed with trepidation coursed through his veins. With a deep breath, he steeled himself and crossed the threshold, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat in the stillness of the night. His eyes darted nervously to and fro, scanning the silent surroundings for any sign of movement or life.

To his relief, the guards stationed at the gate were fast asleep, their rhythmic snores providing a strange lullaby to the otherwise silent night. The boy marveled at the lax security measures that allowed him to pass through the gates unchallenged, bypassing the usual obstacles that would have impeded his progress.

With cautious steps, he ventured further into the palace grounds, the cool night air whispering through the trees and the distant sound of a nightingale's song lending an otherworldly quality to the scene. Despite the outward appearance of confidence, a knot of fear coiled in the pit of his stomach, a silent reminder of the audacity of his clandestine mission.

Whispering a soft prayer under his breath, the boy pressed on, his eyes wide with wonder as he beheld the magnificence of the palace bathed in an ethereal glow. Though the moon was absent from the sky, the palace seemed to radiate its own light, casting intricate patterns of shadows and light that danced across the marble walls and ornate pillars.

Captivated by the beauty and grandeur that surrounded him, the boy's mind raced with thoughts of exploration and discovery. "One day," he vowed silently, his gaze fixed on a distant bridge that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light, "I will uncover the secrets of this place." With newfound resolve and a heart brimming with curiosity, he stepped further into the heart of the palace, with eagerness etched on his face.

The small oil lamp went out, feeling like it wasn't needed anymore. What could a tiny lamp do when the whole palace was brightly lit up like daytime? If he hadn't seen the guards at the gates fast asleep, he might have thought it was night outside the palace and day inside, or vice versa.

He kept walking deeper into the palace, unsure of which way to go. Should he head to the throne room or the emperor's chamber? Passing by gardens, shallow rivers, and various buildings that caught his eye, he was lost in the vastness of the palace grounds.

Lost in the beauty of the scenery, he failed to notice the group of soldiers following him. Suddenly, a commanding voice shouted, "Stop!" His forgotten fear rushed back as he realised he had been discovered. Turning around, he saw well-armoured soldiers with fierce expressions and weapons pointed at him.

These soldiers were clearly different from the lazy ones at the gates. They were ready for battle, and the threat in their eyes and voices was clear. Despite his youth, they showed no mercy, ready to act at any sign of trouble, their eyes gleaming with a desire to strike.

"Wait... hold on...!" he stammered, searching desperately for an explanation that eluded him. In a moment of resignation, he closed his eyes, raised his hand in surrender, and accepted his fate. Despite the imminent danger, a sense of contentment washed over him. The prospect of meeting his end on the prestigious grounds of the nobles, having beheld the grandeur of the palace and breathed the same air as its inhabitants, brought him a strange peace. He envisioned joining his ancestors, regaling them with tales of his brief but illustrious journey along the noble path on Earth.

As he braced for the fatal blow, he clung to each passing second, the tension drawn out in the darkness behind his eyelids. Tentatively, he peered through one eye to find the soldiers gazing at him with a curious nonchalance. Their spears remained poised, yet their grips had slackened. To his astonishment, their stern countenances gave way to laughter, their weapons now held aloft, tips skyward.

"My lord, is your father unaware that you've borrowed his attire?" one soldier quipped, bemused. Perplexed, he emitted a puzzled response.

Amidst their laughter, the soldiers playfully teased him, under the mistaken belief that he was of noble lineage, a young scion seizing a moment of curiosity in his father's absence. Despite their assumptions, he was acutely aware of his humble origins, his street-smart demeanor contrasting starkly with the borrowed finery. The soldiers seemed oblivious to his true identity, perhaps unaccustomed to locals breaching the palace gates. Suddenly, a crucial detail resurfaced in his mind—the emperor's seal, his sole reason for infiltrating the palace.

Lost in the beauty around him, he forgot everything else. But now, his biggest fear had arrived - he had to reveal the seal. Thinking about the consequences, he wondered if facing it now made any difference. Curiosity led him to test the emperor's seal, to see if it truly held the power to make him an emperor.

As the soldiers continued to joke around, he noticed their harmless demeanour, like playful children enjoying a moment of fun.

Slowly reaching into his robe, he retrieved the seal, feeling its weight in his hand. Nervousness gripped him as he considered the potential consequences of revealing it. With trepidation, he brought the seal into view, closing his eyes as he raised it high. Conflicting thoughts raced through his mind, but fear of death loomed largest.

Prepared to face his ancestors in the afterlife, he pondered the unsettling notion of not recognizing them. Having grown up alone on the streets, with no one to care for him, he felt a profound sense of solitude and uncertainty about his past and future.

When he first became aware of life, the first word he uttered was "Nana," and it remained his last. He recalled Nana mentioning, when he was five years old, "I remember the day I found you in that little basket, so fragile and pitiful. You didn't cry like the other babies, even though you were left out in the scorching sun that burned your delicate skin. Later, when the weather changed and it became windy, dirt splattered all around, but you remained so quiet and obedient. Despite the harsh conditions unsuitable for a baby, you were as tough as iron. I had been watching since the young woman abandoned the basket and disappeared. I suspected she had you out of wedlock. I decided to take you in so you could work for me on the streets, as you would have perished if left unattended in that basket. I might not have loved you, but I never mistreated you, and I wouldn't as long as you served me faithfully." These were her words, and one day, she passed away.