The Last Target

Sometimes people meet by chance. Minor missteps or encounters lead thousands of people down paths that may or may not be good, and the paths of Strax and Beatrice crossed long, long ago.

A ten-year-old boy was huddled in a secluded corner of the courtyard. The tall walls and dense vegetation offered a temporary refuge but couldn't dispel the crushing weight he felt in his chest. He hugged himself, his head bowed, his body trembling with stifled sobs. Silent tears traced salty lines down his dirty face.

The cruelty of his siblings and the coldness of his father had broken him once again, leaving him overwhelmed by a devastating sense of loneliness and despair.

The soft sound of light footsteps on the grass approached, but Strax didn't lift his head. He was too engulfed in his sadness to notice the presence drawing near. It was then that a sweet, gentle voice, like a summer breeze, cut through the fog of his anguish.