They joined the bustling crowd, George skilfully moving around in the stinking mass of people that occasionally blocked their ways. John’s short legs, however, prevented him from doing the same. He often bumped into people and elicited some curses directed at him, but he simply ignored them as he had more important things to do. Like keeping up with George.

He quickened the pace of his steps, only now realizing that he was barefooted. The small pebbles on the ground, however, didn’t dig into his skin like they should have. Rather than that, it was like the soles of his feet were already thick enough for something like that to almost not bother him.

‘Seems like I really should be an orphan. Or at least come from a poor family. With feet this thick skinned, and clothes this bad, I somehow doubt that I was born into a well off household.’

He noted the strange sandals that were pretty much just a piece of leather barely covering one’s foot held together by a string that the people around him wore as he pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, using George as a bulldozer to ease his progress. “When are we going to arrive?” he shouted over the background noise of hundreds, if not thousands of people talking and walking at the same time.

Fortunately, there weren’t any markets of the sort nearby, or else his voice would probably have been drowned in a mass of screaming people. John briefly wondered why he wasn’t more shocked about suddenly being stuck in a child’s body in a medieval world whilst following a man he had met just a few hours ago around, but, like many other things, he shoved these thoughts to the back of his head.

He would think about them when he had the time to.

George grabbed his shoulder, pulling John next to his side. “You better be careful here, kiddo. You could easily get lost in a crowd this big,” he cautioned him. Then, looking at the clothes he wore, he clicked his tongue. “And you better watch your back. Who knows which unsavoury fellows could be targeting you.”

Although the grip on his shoulder was painful, John didn’t shake it off. He also knew that it would be safer if he was seen with an adult. Not to mention a hulking beast of a man like George, who would have been capable of easily parting the crowds had they been on New Pandora. As such, he only warily watched his surroundings, preparing to run if should the need arise.

Strangely enough, the thought that George could be plotting something only briefly crossed his mind. He just didn’t seem like that kind of person to him. And if he really wanted to do something, he would have done so when he was out cold from his…whatever it was that he had.

After reaffirming his grip once again, George’s hand slid down to John’s wrist, where it held him firmly in place. “As far as I know, we’ll get there quite soon, so don’t stress yourself too much. It’s not like the orphanage will vanish if we arrive there later.”

John nodded, the shock at having his wrist grabbed slowly vanishing. “What’s life in the orphanage like?” he asked, noting that the number of people around him had lessened as soon as they turned a corner. The street had also become narrower, and the buildings didn’t seem to be as high anymore.

“You don’t even know that?”

“Nope, would I be asking you otherwise?”

“Probably not.” George stopped in front of a food stall selling grilled meat. “Have you eaten yet?”

For whatever reason, John didn’t really feel hungry, but thinking that food could never hurt, he shook his head. Plus, the smell made his mouth water. He forgot what the question he just asked, fully focusing on the food in front of him.

George ordered two pieces, not specifying anything. A single black coin suddenly appeared in his empty palm. He handed it to the old man manning the stall, who gave him two oversized toothpicks, on which a number of vegetables hung.

Handing one to John, he ignored his curious gaze and continued walking, occasionally taking a bite out of his vegetable stick whilst not letting his grip relax even the slightest.

“Hey, where did you pull that coin out of? Do you have a wallet hidden somewhere on your arms?” John asked whilst curiously inspecting George’s clothes.

“Stop that!” A hand chopped down on John’s head. George sighed, and smacked his left hand against his face, the right still firmly holding the vegetable stick. “I swear, you act like a child your age for once, and then you just have to annoy the hell out of me with things that make me question the presence of common sense in that little skull of yours.”

“There’s no helping it; you know? I can’t seem to remember anything after waking up in an alley and stumbling into you, dumbass.” John remarked whilst holding his head. “And why the hell’s your hand so hard? For a second I thought my head was going to split in two!”

“Okay, so you don’t know shit about anything?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Do you know how old you are?”

“Nope.”

“Do you even know what you look like?”

“Like a child?”

George violently ripped a chunk of the vegetables off, cracking his stick in the process. “Yes. Like a very small child, in fact. You don’t act like one, though. To the point that I tend to forget that I’m talking with someone who barely reaches my hips unless I turn around to take a look at you.”

“So? You still haven’t told me how you’re able to conjure up a coin on top of your palm, by the way.”

“You know, you’re going to learn all of that once you arrive at the orphanage, anyway. And I don’t really feel like explaining right now.”

“You’re mean!” John shouted, pouting just like a little child would. ‘Gosh, I hope this works. Otherwise I won’t be able to live with myself anymore. To think that I would be pouting at my age…’ a shiver ran down his spine.

“You’re not cute. Not at all.” George looked at him as if he were something filthy that had just gotten into his line of sight, cringing all the while. “That pout is totally forced, little bastard! More than anything else, you resemble an old man trying to imitate a pouting kid.”

‘Well, he isn’t too far off the truth. Let’s see if he can resist my killing blow!’ John blinked at him whilst trying to make his eyes as big as possible. “Really?”

“Yes. Like I said, it’s totally forced” George turned his head, dragging John with him as he marched on.

“Aww c’mon man! You can’t do this to me. The curiosity is killing me!” John shouted loud enough for most people in the vicinity to hear him. No one turned around to even glance at him.

“The orphanage has people who can explain it far better than me.” George finally stated after a while of having to listen to John’s complains. “Believe me, they’ll teach you at least 20 times better than me, so shut it until we arrive there, okay?”

John hummed in response, opting to stay silent before he truly enraged George.

After a few minutes of walking in awkward silence, a big mansion that couldn’t be overlooked in the narrow streets of whatever city John was in appeared in their sights.

Low walls made out of golden bricks with an equally golden fence that rose far above the heads of the passer-by’s proudly marked the edges of the territory that a huge mansion occupied, causing John’s brain to immediately short-circuit.

‘So much gold!’ was the only thing echoing inside his skull.

When the gears in his head finally started turning again, his mind started to furiously calculate the amount of money a single one of these bricks would be worth if it were composed of pure gold.

He sucked in a breath. It was an absolutely astonishing sum, especially considering that someone had actually built a whole wall with such precious materials.

What was even more astonishing, though, was the fact that it was still standing without a single brick missing. As John’s mind started to work normally again, he realized that it would probably be impossible to find anyone stupid and rich enough for extravagance on the level of building walls with bricks made of pure gold.

Not to mention that the bricks were most likely only coated with a thin layer of gold to make it appear precious. He couldn’t, no, he didn’t want to think of any other possibility.

At some point of time George had stopped to watch John’s facial expressions change every few seconds with undisguised fascination. Upon noticing that John had started taking his surroundings into account again, he didn’t even try to act as if nothing had happened.

Instead, he asked, “What’s wrong? Have you never seen any of the richer parts in Frumentum?”

John absentmindedly realized that Frumentum must have been the name of the city he was in. This piece of information was probably important, but he didn’t have the processing power to spare for that sort of thought. Once again, his curiosity was getting the better of him. Badly.

“Hey, George, can I ask you something?” he inquired, continuing before his companion could respond, “Are these walls made up of pure gold?”

George scratched his long hair that reached his shoulders as he turned to look towards the shining walls in front of him. “Probably? I never really cared about that kind of stuff, but it should be quite likely.” He cocked an eyebrow at John. “Why would you care whether or not it’s composed of gold or not? I mean, it’s not like that stuff’s rare. You’d encounter it quite often if you’re in the nobles’ district.”

John’s mouth opened, but no words would come out. After an awkward period of standing in the middle of a moving crowd whilst making no effort to let any people through, he closed it and started to run a few fingers through his short hair.

“But…” he started to say, the rest of the words coming out as nothing but incoherent mumbles.

“Whatcha saying boy? Speak louder or else I won’t be able to hear you.”

“Eh, it’s nothing.” John pointed a finger at the pair of massive wooden doors that marked the entrance to the mansion grounds. “Is this the orphanage I’ll be living in?” he inquired, but even he himself noticed how off he sounded.

“Mhm.” George hummed, nodding his head once in approval to make it even clearer. “Let’s go, I’ve still got some work to do.”

“Sure.”