Adriel often wondered, within the active confines of his young mind, how he came to be in such a state. Him and his mother, together, alone.
Ever since he could remember, the two were always living in the same pub, on the same floor, in the same room. On occasion he would leave the room to accompany his mother to the marketplace, where he would meet fellow men and women of all imaginable backgrounds. This, in turn, led him to wonder about the many lands that these folk had come from. Places in which land would be raised above the clouds, or where the relentless sun had scorched anything that was raised to become fine, salty grain. Adriel cherished visiting the marketplace to hear of such tales, even more so due to the fact that his life was no more than this. His mother had forbidden him from attending school as she would tell stories of how children would beat each other brutally for fun, and that those who were not beaten were handed to the teachers to be sadistically tortured, saying that she too, had experienced such things and therefore knew about them as well. Adriel pretended not to be fazed by such claims, but secretly became terrified. Having constant nightmares of how horrifying school was, and about how he too could be beaten, allowing only what his young imagination could conjure.
(Work in progress, updates will be ASAP.)