ADELAIDE PENDRAGON'S POV
The cutting wind whipped strands of my golden hair into my eyes, montarily blinding as I walked the familiar path to the aquifer.
I breathed deeply, allowing my eyelids to close while the darkness. coolness caressed my skin. The soft whisper of the wind enveloped , bringing with it mories I preferred to keep buried.
The world has been relentless and cruel, I thought bitterly, especially for soone in my position. The mories of the incident that changed my life forever crowded my mind, unwanted and painful.
Like every weekend since my husband's death, this routine had beco my new normal.
The journey to the nearest aquifer to collect water was just one of the many responsibilities that now weighed on my shoulders.
Not everyone in the district can afford to have water at ho, I reminded myself while adjusting the empty buckets in my hands.
My thoughts inevitably drifted to Arceus; Ars, as I fondly called him. An involuntary smile drew on my lips thinking about my little treasure.
He was the greatest gift I could have, the sweetest and most charming two-year-old child a mother could wish for. And I don't say this just because I'm an affectionate mother, of course not hehe.
I intend to be a strict and fair mother.
Sotis I worried that he was too sweet for his own good. The shelter was no place for such a small and innocent child.
I want you to have a good and normal life, my little Ars, I whispered to the wind as I walked, but this place... this place is full of people willing to do the unspeakable to survive.
As a mother, I couldn't help feeling like the luckiest person in the world every ti I looked at my beautiful baby, who filled my days with joy and laughter. He was truly special, perfect in his own way.
His hair, identical to mine, frad those extraordinary crimson eyes that hypnotized every ti I contemplated them. He's simply adorable!, I thought with maternal pride.
The last six months had completely transford my life. While the beginning was difficult, now I couldn't imagine my existence without him.
I wish this peace would last forever, I silently pleaded while continuing my way. However, there was sothing more about Ars, sothing I couldn't fully explain.
During our ti together, I had noticed patterns in his behavior that intrigued and, sotis, unsettled .
—He's just like his father.
I murmured to myself, rembering when he started crawling. The pride I felt at that mont almost made cry, but I had no idea of the challenges that would co after.
It was impossible to take my eyes off him; in the blink of an eye, he would sneak out of the house. My little sun, wasn't even aware of the dangers lurking in this place.
His curiosity was insatiable.
I was fascinated watching his head, which seed disproportionately large for his small body, constantly turning while trying to absorb every detail of his surroundings.
As I approached the aquifer, surrounded by listone rocks and perable sedints, my thoughts turned darker.
The circumstances surrounding human birth were truly absurd and unfair. So were born holding a golden spoon, while others, like , had to forge it with our own hands.
So are born holding a golden spoon, others are born having to forge it ourselves. Just by luck, so are created from the sperm of a fortunate bastard.
Just because they were lucky, they were conceived from the egg of a disgustingly rich woman.
Effort?
It could only be called effort if moving your tail faster than other sperm could be considered an act of rit.
Others might be endowed with extraordinary talent; one that could forge a clay spoon into a golden one if the opportunity arose. The inequality in human birth was the sa throughout the world.
I myself had experienced the whims of fate. As captain of one of the expedition teams, I had proven my worth.
Reaching grade E as a hunter at eighteen was a considerable achievent, especially considering that even the lowest rank, grade G, required passing tests designed to prevent unnecessary deaths of reckless youth.
In all my years of service, I had only seen a handful of grade D hunters, and not a single grade C hunter —if they really existed.
Upon reaching the aquifer, I rolled up my sleeves, exposing my pale, untanned skin. The years of hard work had left their mark on my arms, now thick and strong.
Suddenly, a black shadow that was stealthily approaching lunged at . My vision filled with giant jaws with razor-sharp teeth.
Crunch.
With a quick movent, I dodged the attack of its thick sharp legs and unsheathed the bone knife from my waist.
The knife pierced through the middle of the cockroach's mouth, which was equipped with multiple mouthparts that worked in coordination.
Calmly, I moved forward and drove the knife deeper. With the additional force of the cockroach's attack, the blade went through its neck and protruded.
The collapsing beast also pushed backward while blue blood leaked out. On both sides, two cockroaches charged while I bent down to pull out the knife.
I observed that these cockroaches asured just over three ters in length equipped with long antennae that moved constantly, with an elongated and segnted body that had six powerful legs ending in sharp claws that allowed it to climb and move with agility, along with a massive and robust structure covered by a thick and hard exoskeleton that rged with the absolute darkness.
I was lucky, killing a cockroach wasn't easy if you didn't stab it in the head, which was its only weak point. I silently thanked not having brought little Arceus.
Its shell was extrely hard and resistant to physical attacks, with a rigorous surface marked by nurous protrusions and sharp spines that serve as natural defense.
Quickly backing away, I pushed the knife and pierced the head of a cockroach that was passing at full speed.
The other cockroach moved behind ready to attack quickly.
Crack!
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