15.9.1789

"Dear Cathleen, 

Being in Shadowtown is so different from living in Shadowtown! When I was here from time to time, I just thought this place would be disgusting, but I didn't expect it to be that horrible! I'm almost mad about these few days here. How can anyone stay here for more than a week without losing their intelligence? I mean, I arrived four days ago and it feels like a whole month. I didn't expect to be neglected, but most people here don't even know my name, or at least don't want to remember it. I should be happy that I am still alive, but I can't stop being upset that I am nobody now. An Edevan must always be listened to. An Edevan must always be accepted. An Edevan must always show what he is capable of. And even if nobody thinks I'm a real Edevan, I still am. And in the end, they will accept that I get what I want, while they can only look up to me. 

But if you had any worries, I can tell you they were just a waste of time. I forgot to take any food with me, but all I had to do was to eat a few apples and other fruit I found along the way. One apple more, one apple less - who cares? Most of the owners are probably dead or will die soon, so that's one less thing to worry about. I could say I forgot the carriage too, but I really considered taking one, but I would have been too loud. I enjoy my comfort and walking fourteen hours a day is not something I like to do, even if I could. My feet are sore and my clothes don't look appropriate for a gentleman. 

At least I was able to arrive after a day and a half, so I could get to know everything before it got dark or - even worse - I had to spend the night outside the town. At first I didn't know what to do. I still don't know what I was expecting, but it's definitely not what I wanted. I would have had to live on the streets if I hadn't found this strange man - it is a long story, I better tell it from the beginning - so the situation might have been even worse, as impossible as it sounds. 

But starting from the very beginning, I rather skip half an hour of useless walking and looking around while considering what to do. At the end of this time - the sun was somewhere between the highest points and the roofs of the houses, unfortunately I also forgot my watch, so I can't tell you the exact time - this strange man stood in front of me. 

"How exciting! Suddenly a familiar face around me. What luck you didn't lose your harvest this year, my dear. Oh, that would have been so terrible! That amazing price you got at the time of selling! Oh, I still remember your face filled with delight. But why are you wearing that coat, my dear fellow? Do you want to become a creature of the night or - oh, that would be impossible, just impossible, how could I ever think that - do you want to hide?" That was some kind of a speech, and now that I think about it, he must have seen me as soon as I arrived in Shadowtown. The way he spoke was so bitter, even if his phrases were so sarcastically friendly, that I wanted to spit in his face. He was the only one who recognised me, and after only a minute I really wanted to kill him. I wanted to hit him with a knife and watch him bleed for hours. But unfortunately I didn't have a knife with me either, so I had to decide whether to touch this dirty and disgusting person or keep at least five steps away so I couldn't do anything uncontrollable before I had a chance to think about it. 

"Your dear fellow? Where is he? I don't see anyone similar to you, not even on these streets full of filthy rats is there a creature as horrible as you." You can probably imagine how I said those words. No one has ever called me a dear person, and that was something I never missed in all these years. As if such a person could be a fellow to me! That will never happen, I tell you, no matter what. 

"Oh, then you haven't met my dearest fellows. It would amuse you very much to see something more horrible than you and me. Can you think of anyone more horrible than you?" He laughed, and I clenched my hands and stared at him as furiously as I could so that he would understand me without words. "My dear fellow, don't forget that murder is still punishable by death. I don't think I'm worth enough for you to go to prison. And of course I don't think you're worth enough for me to die today. I would like to live another ten or even twenty years, and I think you would like that too, my dear fellow."  

"I don't think they would catch me. And of course I don't think anyone thinks your life is so important that they would waste mine in prison. At least I'm somebody." I know you wouldn't let me have this discussion in our little hometown, but firstly, I'm here in Shadowtown and secondly, he didn't even seem to care about my behaviour. 

"Yes, you are someone. Someone as worthless as me. Scum of the streets that they just want to flush away. But I will let you decide for yourself if you want to trust me or die as scum instead of becoming someone important again. Time is running out, you have this day to think about my proposition, and tomorrow I may have found someone better than you, even if that other scum doesn't even have a brain." He bowed his head and left. After a few seconds, I looked around and couldn't find him. I had never seen anyone as strange as him before, but at least it was something I could remember. 

I spent the next few hours on the streets of Shadowtown, unable to find a job good enough for me or a place to spend the night that I could pay for myself. It was almost dark when I gave up the search. You can imagine how upset I was with these workers I had to flee from. Compared to them and those horrible people who ignored me, this odd man didn't seem as awful as before. 

You are probably wondering why I am writing about him - I never do anything without a reason - so I better tell you now. I met him twice that day. Once at lunchtime and once in the evening, and I didn't kill him or break his bones or whatever you think. I didn't even break his nose or a single finger. 

 "So, my dear fellow, have you decided what you want to do?" he said out of nowhere. 

I turned round and he was standing in front of me again. "What's your proposition?" 

"I knew you would consider it, my dear fellow. You probably haven't had much to do with my kind of business, but I think you can learn anyway. Everyone here has forgotten about you, or at least has bigger problems than caring what a ruined farmer does. Everyone here only cares about themselves and what they have. Everyone wants to keep as much as they can, even though I don't think this scum can take their money where they'll end up in the next few weeks, and of course I think coins would melt in hell, so they don't need it there." 

For a beggar, he had such a noble way of speaking those words that I would never have believed it if I hadn't heard it myself. I still wonder who he is, or who he might have been, or at least where he had learnt to speak like that. He didn't whisper, he didn't stammer and he didn't mispronounce anything. He could be a great merchant if he wasn't what he is. 

"You want to steal it." It wasn't an implication, though I didn't know why I understood so suddenly. 

"I just want to help people get away from something they can't keep anyway, dear fellow. I wouldn't call it stealing, because stealing would be taking away something they need, but they don't need it anymore. And if I get rich one day, I promise I won't be like them and ignore the scum of the streets. It's almost impossible that I will get rich, but when I do, I will treat them the way I wanted them to treat me in a time before I understood that there is nothing good about rich people. It is the way praised in one of the few books I've ever read in its entirety. And it's the way every child in this country is taught to behave, so you were probably taught to behave that way too, so it shouldn't be so new to you, my dear fellow. We help other people while we help ourselves survive. There is nothing wrong with that." 

"There is nothing wrong with that, you say? If I asked anyone here, would they give me the same answer?" 

"Are the people here as intelligent as you and me?" He smiled and his blue eyes lit up. If he wasn't wearing those clothes - I better not describe them before you look at my letter the same way you look at the workers - maybe he wouldn't be so different from me, I think. I can't tell you why, but even if I got angry the moment I met him, I've never seen anyone who faced me as well as he did. Those bright blue eyes, full of arrogance and yet without any sign of anger or even hatred. He seemed to be amused by my situation and - another thing I never expected - I understood. I don't think I would behave any differently if I were in his shoes. You know how I can't understand what most people do or say - even though I have to say it is their fault because they really are not as intelligent as I am - but this time it wasn't like that. Maybe it was because of his light blue eyes, which were very similar to mine. Maybe it was because of his strange way of behaving when speaking with words that I would never expect from a normal beggar. Maybe it was something else I couldn't figure out yet, but I still couldn't distrust him. 

"Why did you choose me?" I know you wouldn't like me to be around people like that, but I had no choice, so I tried to make the best of it. 

"If you put away that awful coat, my dear fellow, people might assume you are a rich man just looking for something to buy. I would never look like that, and every cop in this neighbourhood knows my face, so I can't try this new idea I had. No one would dare call you a thief if you just slipped a few coins into your pockets without trying to escape or hide somewhere. It is as hard a job as anything, but as a farmer you walk and can carry things with you - if you ever find anything heavier than a coin - and after talking to you, I believe you have a brain that is not as small as a particle of dust. My dear fellow, you seem perfect to work with me, and if you aren't, you will be the one to pay for it and not me, so talking to you is nothing more than a small waste of time." 

"And what do I get in return?" 

"You survive, my dear fellow. I know it isn't much compared to what you had before, but at least it is more than you have without me. I have a roof over my head and I can share it. I have a job that I can earn something from and I can share it. And for tonight, I have one last piece of bread at home that I can also share. Is that enough to work for in the conditions we have to get through? Maybe not for every other person, but I think it is best for us. My dear fellow, I've seen you so many times over the years that I can't even count them anymore. That little boy who always tried to get the best and who never learnt to lose. I suppose your love of fire isn't really necessary for your future work, but at least it shows you don't give up easily." 

It was better than starving to death anyway. I didn't even have to think about it for more than a few seconds. It wasn't what I expected, but it was the best I could get, so I had to take the chance. You wouldn't have done the same. That's not an implication, that's the truth. You would have waited for a miracle to happen. But miracles don't happen in this world, so I did what seemed right. "I accept." 

I can't remember the last time I trusted a stranger - maybe it never happened before - but I believed him. It's not a friendship, if you think so, this would be as impossible for me as becoming one of the richest men in the country in the near future - but at least we can work together so we are still alive.  

To describe the house I live in now, I better use his words. 'It used to be a street of small houses, one so close to the other that the explosion destroyed half of the street and killed so many people that for years no one knew who the owner of that house was, so after decades someone rebuilt a small part of it and forty years ago it became a trading house. Maybe you remember that house from thirty years ago, it is one of the reasons I never forgot you." I better explain this part to you before you think I had any secrets. It was only twenty or twenty-five years ago or something in between - I don't remember exactly, but it was after I burnt that bastard's house down - when all I did was kick a small table with a lamp on it. Nothing important, nobody died and these people weren't good people, so it was nothing I should have talked about. It was the time before I asked my Father to allow me to marry you, and you know how much he involved me in the business during those years, so until the harvest was all sold, I had almost no chance to talk to you. I would have told you if I hadn't forgotten about it until our next meeting. I know you are not glad about another fire I caused, but at least now it has turned into something good for me. How can something be wrong if it helps me one day? But maybe I should explain the situation further instead of explaining myself. 

Most of the rooms burned down and they destroyed the back of the house before they gave up trying to build a new house in that place again. At least part of it is still standing, and the room I sleep in has a roof, a floor, a door, two windows and three walls - that's more than enough, it isn't that cold inside if I don't take my coat off - and it's much safer than on the street or even at home. 

That is probably all I have to say about my situation. I hope that I will find time to return in the next few weeks so that I can at least receive your reply to my last letter. I hope that you and your family are still well and that the problem with the workers has been buried with them. As soon as you have received this letter, please let me know what has happened since I left. What has happened to the Edevan Estate? Have they robbed everything and destroyed the few window panes that were still intact? I can't even imagine that everything looks the same as it did the morning I left home. I mean, do you think those street rats wouldn't destroy everything? I mean, do you think those street rats even have a mind? I mean, do you think they can do any good? Maybe even worse has happened, I don't know. But as long as the Edevan Estate is still standing - even if it's just in pieces - I will repair everything so that we can live there one day. I never thought I would miss my home even a little, but now I do. We will probably build a new house once this is all over, but at least it won't be something completely new - I know you don't like big changes. And after this lifestyle change, I don't think it would be good to move to a new village or town. 

What will happen? What will be? I don't know. There are still a lot of unknowns and I don't want to live in daydreams where everything is perfect. And what can I change? What can anyone change? The future seems to be written already and we just have to turn the page to find out what comes next. It is exciting, yet strange, not knowing what is to come. This isn't as horrible as it could have been, I guess - but I will be glad when I get back and can live the life I always wanted. 

Well, I will probably tell you more next time. It is late, stealing is not as easy as I always thought, and it is getting darker by the minute, so I might not be able to read my own handwriting in a few sentences. I will write to you as soon as I can. 

In everlasting love 

Yours 

Laurence Edevan" 

He put the paper and quill aside and stared at the wall. Everything seemed so different from what he knew and what he had wished for without realising it. He had never been away from home without the chance to return. For someone who had never learnt to lose, this was the worst situation he could imagine, even if he didn't want to let it show. He traced the outline of the house in the darkness with his eyes and wondered why, no matter how many times he looked at it, it seemed strange and unfamiliar. He had found a place to stay and believed that everything would be as it was when he returned. 

He sat down on what was left of the back of the house. It was cold outside, and it was almost so dark that he couldn't see his own hands. He had become a thief instead of someone to look up to. He had found himself among the street rats he had always laughed at. He had forgotten his promise of a perfect life because survival was suddenly more difficult than he had ever thought possible. The future had become a question and life a struggle. For someone who had never learnt to lose or give up, it was time to learn that there were worse things than being neglected. 

Everything had changed. A new person - Laurence didn't know that he had found someone who would become an important part of his future forever - had entered his life. Someone who could change things for the better or for the worse. Someone who did the wrong thing and yet did the right thing at the same time. Someone who didn't know the future and yet wasn't afraid for a single second. Someone who was different and yet so similar to him. 

Sometimes we have to make the right decisions, and sometimes our destiny makes the wrong ones, because it is the path we have to go along, no matter what we do---