Respect

At the break of dawn, a morning glow passed over the streets of a dense and closed-off city. Towering stone walls surrounded the human civilization in dense claustrophobic layers. Around the outer section of these protected streets, dozens of passer-byers moved with purpose—leisurely going about their lives. Trodding along the road, a ragged young boy gathered the immediate attention of any and every civilian who passed by.

blatant curiosity circled through their minds.

'Wow, I don't think I'll ever get used to this sort of attention—could they at least try to hide the fact that they're staring even a little? Although, it is true that I do look…just a little bit eye-catching.'

Sporting simple brown rags, his thin pale arms lay bare, painted in complex black writing—a telling sign of his title as an Imprinted. Around these run-down streets, it's almost unheard of for any Imprinted to have a reason to be in the area. With this in mind, the civilians walking about couldn't help but grow shocked—attempting to understand the reason for his appearance.

The boy moved through the subtle crowds and carriages of people. Clutched in his hand, a small children's doll, sewn together with caring finesse. His eyes darted the streets, clearly in search of something:

'Gosh, where the hell is it? I know I've seen that kid somewhere around here.'

Right when Damian had left the old church, he paused, remembering the doll sat tucked beneath one of the benches inside. It was sudden, but he remembered that there was a child that usually hung around a small shop clutching that doll at all times. Living here all his life, Damian had grown familiar with most of the residents living nearby the old church. Normally he wouldn't have bothered, but since the direction he was heading in was the same as the shop, he decided to stop by and drop the doll off. Granted, he had to be rather quick since there wasn't much time before the church owner looked into the incredibly large mess he'd made…

'I know It's around here somewhere…was it to the left? Oh wait, there it is!'

Spotting the small shop, Damian jogged over to the old wood entrance. Upon entering, a small collection of miscellaneous trinkets, toys, and materials presented itself on tall antique shelves. Scanning the shop with interest, he walked up to the front desk. Glancing around, he quickly picked up on the deserted atmosphere of the shop—not a single worker in sight.

"...Hello..?"

After a moment of silence, subtle footsteps could be heard coming from a door behind the desk. Eventually propping the door open, a small child reared her head outside to peek at Damian. Spotting the child the familiar child, he spoke:

"Hey, is this yours?" Damian questioned.

Right when he showed her the doll, she ran out of the doorway before stopping in front of him.

"That's mine." The small girl reached with her hands expectantly.

Damian handed the doll over now getting ready to leave until someone else opened the door behind the desk. A curious mother walked over.

"Hello young man, please excuse my daughter, she's only nine. Is there anything you're looking to-..." At first, she seemed relaxed when she first came across Damian but quickly froze when she made eye contact with him.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry about this inconvenience sir! Samantha, get over here, now!" The mother with an unusual change in attitude brought her daughter to her side before forcing herself and her daughter to bow slightly.

"...What's going on here exactly?" Damian asked the mother, dumbfounded at the situation.

"I'm deeply sorry for the situation. My daughter is young and I haven't yet taught her how to behave herself in front of others. I'll absolutely try to fix her behavior in the future. Again, please forgive us." She urgently apologized.

"No, not that…wait what are you even doing? Why are you bowing?" Damian again asked, even more confused.

"What are you talking about sir, it's common knowledge for us common folk to give our highest courtesy to those of higher status than us. I know that this shop isn't a good enough shape for you to buy from, but please feel free to look around. Everything in this shop is also marked at half the price for all Imprinted, rune craftsmen and government officials." The mother explained with her eyes on the floor.

'All this because I'm imprinted? Wow, while the attention from earlier was definitely strange, it pales compared to the…respect? To the respect, I'm getting now. My god, who could've seen the day when I of all people would be gaining the respect of others! It doesn't even matter if I'm young or wearing nothing but brown rags. What a strange world we live in!'

"No no, it's alright, I was just returning that doll to your daughter before moving on with where I was originally going," Damian clarified with an amused expression.

"Oh..Oh my goodness! Thank you so much for returning the doll to my daughter, she had lost it somewhere around town and was having a tough time. Again, thank you for your kindness, sir. Samantha, say thank you to the kind man."

"...Thank you."

"You're welcome," Damian replied with a relaxed grin, now heading for the exit.

"If you ever need anything, sir, please stop by and we'll assist you with anything free of charge." The mother claimed with a calm smile.

"Haha, yeah…" Damian waved off.

'Like I'd actually ever come back to this slum neighborhood! I'm sure I'll live a life of luxury away from all poverty in no time! Although, some of what she was selling did seem kinda fun.'

Walking on an open road, Damian casually made his way through the slum areas. While he had always used to live in the poor areas around that church and antique shop, there was a clear dynamic between the different levels of poor around the city. Damian had been lucky enough to reside and work in one of the better-off areas of poverty. Occasionally, he would end up passing through some of the more severe and desperate areas where homelessness, trash, and starvation were far more prevalent. He had actually used to live in the more rugged areas before his time working at the church. While both places are identified as impoverished, there was a clear improvement in living from where he used to live in terms of now having at least somewhat of a roof over his head, and occasionally having enough money to buy himself more than one meal during the week. However, all of this changed several months ago when he had somehow made an acquaintance with a particular demented and strange old man.