The city of Golden Jade

Walking through a tight, humid alley, a young boy could be seen breathing raggedly. Holding an item tight to his chest as if it was more important than himself, he tried to find his way in the hardly lit passage. Creeping shadows fluttering around him as the sun finally seemed to set in the distant horizon made him realize the day was almost over, and that the night was about to begin it's reign in the city of Golden Jade. The name lending itself from the golden coloured jade that is being mined near the city. A recognized luxurious good anywhere on the Eastern continent.

That last glint of light from the sun in the distance, let the item in the boy's hand gleam briefly. The boy, seeing the sun finally come down, breathed a sigh of relief and continued to make his way to the end of the alley where a wide and populous street came into view. Pulling his coat over the item and a cowl over his brown, medium-short hair, he kept walking and disappeared into the crowd.

Shortly after the boy left the alley, a duo of well kempt middle-aged men in white uniforms with sabers at their waist entered the passage and followed the trails left behind by the boy. Upon reaching the street, they realized they had lost him, after cursing softly they agitatedly went back the way they came from.

The boy continued on his way, and after a few twists and turns set foot in quite an affluent neighborhood where he took out a key from his breast pocket and entered a modest house a bit further in.

After entering he closed the door shut behind him and locked it. Finally feeling safe, he took his coat and cowl off and went to the living room. He sat down on a wooden chair, of which there were three in total. The item in his hand finally taking note in his mind, started to feel so heavy for him he almost dropped it. The adrenaline wearing off, the boy started to feel despondent, and a painful sting on his face made him wince. Tracing the painful feeling on his face, a wet warmth gathered on his finger. Without caring anymore he put the item he had with him on the table which now had a bloody fingerprint, and stood up to go wash up.

After entering the washroom he stood in front of a small mirror checking out his still sweaty face. Sword-like eyebrows, sharp eyes and a stoic facial expression made him seem more mature than his age showed. His brown hair cascading downwards to just above his eyes gave him a dreamy look which would make many men jealous. However a still bleeding straight knife wound that started from the top of his left eyebrow and ended at his jaw ruined the innocent-looking face, feeling the pain become heavier a few tears sprang out, yet the boy grit his teeth and did not let out a sound.

The pain from the wound was secondary, what truly made him want to weep was the memento left behind by his parents, the item on the table. As he bandaged his wound, memories kept flashing by, some of them so joyful, they turned unbearingly painful as he knew he would never see them in person again.

Finishing the bandage the boy cleaned up with tears in his eyes and lit up a candle. Finally he could see a bit more around him, the painting on the wall made him open his eyes wide, it started to haunt him, he shut his eyes tight and didn't dare to look at it. It made him feel unbearable guilt.

Walking to the table he carefully picked up the item and examined it, he had felt it earlier, but in the rush he didn't have the time to scrutinize it carefully. A golden orb came into view, spherical but a bit uneven on the surface, smooth to the touch and a bit transparent, like amber. It felt hard like iron and the boy sensed that it wouldn't be damaged easily.

A surge of exhaustion came over the boy as he was looking at the orb, the flickering candle being reflected showed how beautiful the material was. But to him he couldn't think of it as anything but a devilish nightmare. Walking upstairs the boy held the candle in one hand, and the orb in the other. Finally getting in his room, he habitually turned the wooden plate hanging on his door around, revealing the name of the room's owner: Jarvan

Realizing muscle memory took charge, Jarvan chuckled a bit and went to sit on his bed, he took off his clothes which revealed an average looking body, there were no clear defined muscles but he was not fat either. Snuffing out the candle and crawling into the covers, Jarvan held the orb fearfully yet endearingly in his hands as he tried to go to sleep. Eventually he gave up on holding it in his hands and just put it in his embrace. Feeling sentimental just before falling asleep, he gave a sad smile and was happy he could at least sleep with his parents one last time.