Creating Utopia

Disclaimer:  Skies of Arcadia is the property of Overworks and Sega. This
fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.  No money is being made 
from this writing.  Certain characters are copyrighted by *me*, and usage
of these characters without permission is a _very_bad_thing_.  

Notes before reading: Um...if you really hate Galcian, you might hate the
fic.

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Lights flared on the upper portion of Valua.  A thousand points of yellow
sparkled in the streets winding their way through the sumptuous, elegant
palaces of the noble families.  The effect was that of gold dust and
jewels scattered on a dress of black satin.

A traveller, upon entering Valua through the impressive Grand Fortress,
would naturally be attracted to the beautiful sight.  The traveller would
never bother to look down to the dark and dreary sight of the lower end of
the city.

None would notice the people--some young, some old, all with the same hard
rough look in their eyes and stench of garbage clinging to them--standing
at edge of the slums, gazing at the splendor and wealth spread in front of
them.  Wealth that could never be earned, though they formed the basis of
the economical structure on which the city thrived.

A youth stood at the railing that marked the end of lower Valua. This in 
itself was not unusual; boys and girls alike were attracted to the brightness
of the noble's section like bees to sugar.  Yet this child was undenibly
different.

At first glance the boy would not stand out much. Cleaner, maybe, and taller
and bulkier than most boys his age.  These were minor things, however, after
a glimpse of the child's face.  His was not the bright and curious face of
one naive to the workings of the world; it was cold, quiet, somehow calculating.
The dark eyes shone with an intelligence, a genius of sorts. The child's 
face was that of an adult grown hard, cynical and bitter.

Galcian stopped here every day. He hated it. Every time he passed the railing,
he promised himself he would walk by without turning. _He_ would not be 
like the other stupid children and gawk at something he could only dream
about. _He_ was smarter and knew that looking at all of those lights would
only make his eyes water and his heart fill with longing for something better
than a two-room hovel and an empty stomach.

But every day the lights and the beauty called to him, as they did to every
person unfortunate enough to live in the slums.  Galcian would turn--just
a moment, he would promise himself--to look, just once, and end up standing
at the railing, his mind a bitter swirl of seething rage at the unfairness
of it all.

Today was no different. Galcian was here once again, dazzled by the myriad
lights and his mouth agape.  He would stay there, staring, until something or
someone could pull his attention away from it--

--like the sudden shape lurking at his side, just barely within his side vision.

Jolted from the realms of the rich and beautiful, it took Galcian a moment to 
adjust to the darkness of the lower city.  To his side a man stood glaring at
him. 

"What do you want?"  Galcian asked irritably. He had no idea why anyone would
want to bother him.

"The bag. What's in it?" The man motioned to a small, dirty sack at Galcian's 
feet.

Galcian's eyes flashed.  "It's none of your business. It's not worth anything."

"I'll decide that for myself.  Hand it over, brat!" The man moved to push the
youth away.  Expecting little resistance from a mere boy, he was considerably
surprised to find the child had planted himself firmly in place.  Glaring at the
infurating child, the man raised a dirty fist and slugged Galcian in the face. 
Galcian's knees buckled for an instant, and his assaultant took the advantage to
push the boy into the railing.  Galcian was thrown completely off balance and
nearly toppled over the railing.  For one terrifying moment, he could see the 
heavy, dark swirl of clouds beneath the Valuan continent, and he held onto the
railing for dear life until his feet gained purchase on the metal tile.