Trading Essence Cores
Damien stood at the edge of the cobblestone path, staring at the modest building before him. It looked nothing like an orphanage—no signs of children or caretakers, no playful laughter echoing from within.
Instead, the structure was quiet, with a small wooden sign hanging above the door. Even the writingbin the sign has long since vanished making the sign appear empty.
His instincts prickled, and he hesitated. He had sensed it earlier but chose to ignore it, trusting the girl's offer to help. Now, however, doubt crept in.
He stopped walking and called out to her. "Where are you taking us? I thought we were going to the orphanage."
The girl paused, turning to face him. Her brown eyes sparkled with amusement, and a soft chuckle escaped her lips.
"This isn't the orphanage," she admitted, "but it is necessary."