Before Eden, before crowns and kingdoms, there was Loombert. A quiet kingdom tucked between misty mountains and forgotten rivers. And within it, at the edge of a sleepy village, stood a worn old building with creaking floorboards and ivy-covered windows—the St. Orwen Orphanage.
It was here, ten years ago, that a boy named Lito first arrived, aged barely ten. He wore hand-me-down boots too big for his feet, carried a battered satchel, and had a look in his eyes that didn't quite match his age. The kind of eyes that had seen too much too soon.
The matron had introduced him to the other children without much ceremony. "This is Lito. He'll be staying with us now. Be kind."
Kindness, however, was not something children easily gave.
The first child Lito noticed was a girl with snow-white hair sitting alone beneath the crooked willow tree in the back garden. She clutched a tattered book to her chest, her lips moving in silent recitation. Her name was Luna, aged nine, a moon elf—a race often mistrusted by humans and other elves alike.
The other children called her "Ghost Girl" and whispered that she was cursed. They stole her books, poured ink on her sheets, and locked her in the storeroom more times than she could count.
Lito saw her crying one day behind the shed. Without a word, he sat beside her and offered half of his lunch. Luna stared at him like he was a mirage.
"Aren't you afraid of me?"
"No," Lito said. "You're the first person I've seen here who reads. That means you're smart. And lonely. I know that feeling."
From that day forward, he walked her to class, protected her from cruel pranks, and even took beatings in her place. Luna never forgot that.
Soon after, another newcomer arrived—a pale boy with crimson eyes and trembling hands. Luminos, age ten, a vampire child with a fragile heart. The children mocked him relentlessly.
"Bloodsucker!"
"Monster!"
He hid under the beds, behind cabinets, anywhere to escape notice. One rainy evening, Lito found him curled up in the laundry room, crying silently.
Lito knelt and handed him a handkerchief. "They call me names too sometimes. But you're not a monster. Just scared. It's okay to be scared."
That simple gesture earned Lito another friend. Luminos never stopped admiring Lito's courage, though he would never find his own until much later.
If Luna was the quiet night and Luminos the trembling dusk, then Nia was the flame of mischief. Age eight, a fire spirit child with hair like embers and a laugh like summer.
She wasn't as feared as the others, but her magic flared when she got emotional, causing accidents that made the other kids avoid her.
One day, during a cooking class, Nia accidentally set the apron rack ablaze. The others ran, yelling.
Lito stayed and helped smother the flames, then offered her a burnt biscuit with a wink. "Maybe don't cook, but you're great at starting campfires."
Nia giggled, tears drying. From that day, she followed Lito around like a little sister, full of chaotic energy.
Among the older children was Yune, age fifteen—a tall, graceful forest elf with keen eyes and a quiet strength. She kept to herself, often tending the orphanage garden or fixing broken toys.
But the others didn't like her. "Stuck-up," they said. "Thinks she's better."
They stole her tools, ruined her garden, and mocked her accent. But Yune never fought back. She endured it all in silence.
One afternoon, Lito saw her weeping behind the well. It startled him; he thought she was unshakable.
He offered her a small wooden bird he'd carved. "You fix everyone's toys. No one fixes yours. So… here."
Yune was quiet for a long moment, then knelt and embraced him. "You're a kind boy, Lito. I'll protect you, too."
From that moment on, Yune became his guardian angel. Whenever he got into fights defending others, Yune was never far behind.
Gark arrived not long after—ten years old, a red Oni child with skin like fire clay and fists like bricks. The other kids feared him… and bullied him all the same. His strength was his curse.
Whenever he lashed out, they punished him. When he didn't, they tormented him until he exploded.
One day, Lito found him tied to a tree, bruised and bleeding, left there by older boys as a "game."
Lito untied him without hesitation, cleaned his wounds with rainwater, and gave him the last of his bread.
"Why help me?" Gark had asked. "I'm just a freak."
"No, you're strong. And you need a friend more than anyone."
From then on, Gark became fiercely loyal to Lito, shielding him like a bodyguard and finally smiling for the first time in months.
Last was Truth, age nine, of the iron dragon race. Shy, quiet, always hiding behind curtains or inside cabinets. The other kids mocked her fangs, her tail, her strange eyes.
"Monster!"
"Cursed thing!"
Lito found her hiding in the attic once, trembling.
"Do you want me to go?" he asked.
She shook her head, sniffled. "You… don't hate me?"
"No," he said gently, sitting beside her. "You remind me of the stars. Strange, but beautiful."
She burst into tears and hugged him tightly.
Truth rarely spoke to anyone but Lito after that. She would bring him little handmade trinkets, potions that glowed, and always tried to sit beside him during lessons, even if she never said a word.
Over time, the bonds between them strengthened. The six misfits—Lito, Luna, Luminos, Nia, Yune, Gark, and Truth—became inseparable.
They created a secret clubhouse in the abandoned barn behind the orchard. They named it "The Sanctuary."
Inside, they painted stars on the walls, carved their names into the floorboards, and swore an oath:
"We protect each other. Always."
Even when the other children laughed at them. Even when the matron threatened to split them up. They endured.
When Yune caught fever, it was Truth who made the potion that healed her. When Gark got into trouble, it was Luminos who tended his wounds. When Luna's books were destroyed, it was Nia who rewrote them by memory, and Lito who read them aloud by candlelight.
They grew together in that place of broken beginnings.
Then Everything Changed
Then came the fire.
A lightning storm struck the orphanage late one night. The building went up in flames like tinder. Screams echoed through the halls.
Lito woke coughing, the air thick with smoke. He ran door to door, waking the others. Yune carried the smallest children. Gark smashed down doors. Nia lit a path through the smoke. Truth threw bottles that extinguished flames. Luminos, shaking, used his magic to shield the others.
They escaped into the rain, soaked and trembling, as the orphanage burned behind them.
The matron never returned. The town couldn't afford to rebuild.
The children were scattered to different shelters, different cities. The bonds of the Sanctuary stretched thin.
But not broken.
**Years Later…**
In the kingdom of Eden, now risen from dreams and ashes, Lito stood as king. But in quiet moments, when the firelight flickered just right, he remembered them all:
Luna, whose quiet strength shone brighter than any moon.
Luminos, who found courage not in war, but in healing.
Nia, the spark that could laugh even in the dark.
Yune, who taught him what it meant to protect.
Gark, whose fists once trembled but now stood for justice.
Truth, the shy dragon girl who bloomed with trust.
They had all grown. All changed. But in the deepest part of his soul, they were still the same children, huddled in the old barn, promising to protect each other.
And Lito? He kept that promise.
To Be Continued...