CHAPTER 65: THE FIRST KNIGHT II: THE BOY WHO STEPPED UP

It was Arthur’s birthday, the day he turned eleven. "The beginning journey to become a young adult," his father would say.

But for as long as he could remember, his family had never celebrated his birthday. They would just congratulate him and make him blow out a single candle on a cupcake. Arthur didn’t mind. He didn’t need a big celebration, and his family couldn’t afford one, a fact he had known for a long time, despite his parents’ efforts to hide it.

He woke up as usual, took a shower as usual, and did his morning chores as usual. When he returned to his room, he saw a worn, faded pamphlet on the table.

He had found that pamphlet in their mailbox among a pile of overdue letters a few days earlier, and he had been staring at it every time he saw it.

He put it down again and left the room to visit his mother, who had given birth in the early hours of that day, making his little sister share the same birthday as him, eleven years apart.

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"Arthur, come and meet your little sister," Leila’s exhausted voice called him.

Arthur approached his mother carefully, observing her as he came closer. She looked utterly spent. She had been in labor for more than forty-eight hours — who wouldn’t be exhausted after that? The fact that she wasn’t resting was a miracle on its own.

Maurice placed the baby in Arthur’s arms. "Careful, support her neck."

Arthur very carefully cradled the baby. His eyes widened in surprise. He had never seen anything cuter than his little sister.

Her eyes were big and unblinking, staring at him as if trying to memorize his face. Her cheeks were like a cherub’s — rosy, round, and so soft to the touch. And her hair—

He looked at Leila, his eyes sparkling. "She has pure snow-white hair!"

Leila nodded weakly, smiling. "What do you think, Arthur?"

Arthur looked back at the baby. "She’s the most beautiful baby in the world! And she’s my little sister!"

Both his parents chuckled softly.

"Her name is Theodora Leira Montrose," Maurice said.

"Thea," Arthur whispered.

His parents looked at each other and smiled. "Thea," they both agreed.

"But she... looks and feels... weak," Arthur muttered.

Maurice turned to him and said, "Thea is your little sister, Arthur. You must protect her, just like you’ve been doing with Julian. But she’s a girl, she’ll need more protection than Julian."

Arthur looked up at his father and nodded firmly. I’ll protect her.

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A few days later.

"Reese, what are we going to do? We don’t have enough money to pay the utility bills. We used it for the midwife and my painkiller." Leila’s worried and exhausted voice faintly carried through the door.

Arthur stopped in his tracks.

"Don’t worry, Lei. I’ll sell this." A clinking sound followed.

"But that’s from your grandfather! You can’t sell it!"

"It’s okay, Lei. Thea needs her formula, and it’s only temporary. I’ll buy it back."

"We’re so close to making the Heartstone generator work. When it does, we can sell it!" Maurice’s excited voice reached Arthur’s ears.

Arthur clenched his fists. He turned around and went back to his bedroom.

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The moon was high in the sky. The night was quiet. Occasionally, Thea’s cries could be heard in the distance, but other than that — silence.

Arthur hadn’t slept. He stood by the window, staring outside, holding the worn pamphlet in his hand.

He wore black jeans that had been washed too many times, their length now reaching only his ankles. His T-shirt was plain, its original color long faded.

He looked at Julian, who was sleeping peacefully in his bed.

Arthur took a few deep breaths, nodded to himself, then turned around. He grabbed his packed backpack and left the room.

On the table was a letter addressed to his parents.

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Running footsteps echoed loudly through the halls.

Maurice was in total panic. He couldn’t find Arthur, no matter where he looked — and he had looked everywhere, even in the parts of the mansion that had been closed off after they collapsed. He couldn’t call out Arthur’s name for fear of waking Julian and Thea.

He stopped, panting hard. He had been running around the mansion for almost thirty minutes, but Arthur was nowhere to be found.

He ran back to where Leila was and found her in Arthur and Julian’s room, holding Thea in her arms, her back to the door.

He stood at the doorway, breathing heavily. "Leila? Did you find anything?"

Leila slowly turned around. Her face had lost all its color, her hand trembling as she held a piece of paper.

"He left." Her voice broke.

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"Go away, kid!"

Thud. A young boy fell back, landing hard on the ground.

"What the hell are you doing here? Go home!"

Arthur quickly got up. "I’m not a kid! I’m fourteen! I can legally work!" He stood his ground. This was the fourth place that had turned him down. He was getting desperate now. He didn’t want to go home empty-handed.

I won’t go back until I’ve found work! he swore to himself.

"I’m fourteen!" he repeated, lying through his teeth. He was lucky he was tall for an eleven-year-old. It wasn’t hard to believe that he was really fourteen. He had chosen that age precisely because of this, fifteen was too much of a jump for his somewhat baby face. No one would believe him. But fourteen? That was the sweet spot.

"I’m strong! I can do anything, I’ll do anything! Even hard labor! Just, please! I have a newborn sister who needs her formula!" he pleaded. He never thought it would be this hard to find work.

Maybe it was because of his determination, or his words, or his pleading eyes, but the foreman looked at Arthur for a moment, then sighed.

"Fine. You can help in the kitchen. Give this to the cook, tell him that I sent you." He handed Arthur a note.

Arthur’s face instantly brightened. He snatched the note while bowing. "Thank you, sir! Thank you!"

"Alright, alright. Now scram! Don’t make me regret it, kid!"

"You won’t, sir! You won’t! Thank you!"

With that, Arthur dashed toward the tent that had been set up as a temporary kitchen.