J. Daniel Atlas was 22 years old when he first met one of the future horsemen. He had left home three years ago to pursue his career in magic and to look for his own place in the world.

He was walking through Central Park in search for the famous Lionel Shrike tree. That was the first place he had wanted to go to when he left home since New York was the best place for people like him to get big in his particular occupation.

He wanted to be a magician and had been learning magic since he got his first deck of cards on his 10th birthday. He wanted to be an illusionist. A showman. One of the greatest magicians the world had ever seen.

When the Shrike tree was in sight, Daniel walked ahead to the landmark. He stopped a few feet before it and stared in awe at the card encased in glass. His full attention was on the tree until something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A young boy sat alone on one of the benches just a little way from the Shrike tree. He was small and young, 7 or 8 at the most. He was dressed in a thin shirt and a small pair of shorts with a worn blanket tossed around his shoulders. His brown-haired head was bent to the ground so Daniel couldn't see his face at the moment.

The boy had a worn deck of cards in his hands and he was shuffling through them with delicate fingers. He was quite skilled, Daniel noticed, his full attention on the boy as he shuffled round the bench to get a better view of the kid. He looked around the park and saw that no one paid any attention to the boy as they just walked past him. No one except Daniel.

Almost as though he felt the stare, the boy looked up and Daniel couldn't hold back his gasp. The boy's face was covered in bruises, dried blood and small cuts. His brown eyes looked sad and tired, but turned to panic as he noticed someone observing him. And observe him Daniel did.

He looked at the boy's bruised face, the way the t-shirt seemed to hang off of him as he dropped the blanket in shock, the spattering of injuries along his arms and legs, and the despondent nature with which he sat on the bench.

He was in full view of the hundreds of people walking in Central Park, but no one stopped to pay any attention to him. No one offered him money or a trip to the hospital and it was moments like that when J. Daniel Atlas saw how cruel the world really was.

He pulled his gaze away from the beaten boy to look at the Shrike tree once more. He watched in the corner of his eye as the boy looked almost saddened yet relieved at the removal of attention on him as he put his cards back into his pocket.

Daniel sighed and crossed the park to where the boy was sitting on the bench and the boy looked up as he neared him. "Is this seat taken?" he asked the boy, gesturing to the spot on the bench beside him. The boy didn't say anything and instead shook his head quickly.

Daniel sat down and looked over at the small boy who had set his gaze on the ground, not daring to look up at the newcomer.

"Looks like you've got a good handle on those cards of yours," Daniel said slowly, trying not to frighten the kid.

"Really?" The voice that answered him was small and child-like. It clenched at Daniel's heart.

"Really," Daniel answered the boy. "You've got a real talent for doing that."

There was silence for a moment before the kid slowly looked up at him and a quiet, "Thanks," filled the space between them.

"Can I ask you a question kid?" Daniel took the silence as a 'yes.' "Where are your parents?"

The boy bit his lip, wondering if he should answer or not. Then he said in a small voice, "um, they're around here somewhere. My dad told me to wait here."

Daniel didn't know what to say or do. He wasn't really an expert when it came to talking to kids, especially abused ones. "Um, what's your name kiddo?"

The boy bit his lip, wondering whether he should trust this stranger. "Jack," he finally answered. "I'm Jack Wilder."

"Well, Jack Wilder," Daniel said but was then cut off by a loud voice.

"OI! Boy!" Daniel looked across the courtyard to see a tall man with dirty brown hair and beard yelling. "Get over here now!"

Jack hastily got up from the bench quickly ran to the man, probably his father, but stopped halfway. He turned back to the bench where Daniel was still sitting. "It was nice to meet you sir," he said and, without waiting for an answer, he ran to his father.

Daniel watched him go sadly. A wave of anger rippled through him as he saw the man grab the kid's arm roughly and drag him away. But there was nothing he could do about it but hope the kid would be okay.

He shook his head and started to get up when his eyes landed on a small object beside him. The worn deck of cards. It must have fell out of Jack's pocket in his haste to get up.

Daniel reached down and quietly pocketed the pack before turning to leave. He was sure that him and Jack Wilder would meet again in the near future.