The sun brushed against Felix’s face, its rays not warm as one might expect but still pleasantly soothing. He felt surprisingly comfortable. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was in the sidecar of a carriage pulled by sturdy horse, the scent of the forest lingering in the cool air.

“Gleb, the little one has opened his eyes!” a young man exclaimed, his voice bright and cheerful as he sat beside Felix, munching on a crisp apple.

“Who are you?” Felix asked, still disoriented. The woods surrounded them, their tall trees casting slender shadows.

“Great! Give him some apples,”

Gleb, an older man with brown hair streaked with gray, instructed. Felix couldn’t see his face clearly, but the warmth in his tone was unmistakable. The young man beside him, with hair that fell just past his shoulders and a fiery hue, had striking green eyes that were a shade darker than Felix’s own.

“Take it,” the young man urged, extending a hand with a apple.

“Who are you people?” Felix asked.

“We went into the woods to gather firewood for work, you see. You’ve been sleeping on it,”

Gleb explained.

“Ah,” Felix replied, still processing the situation.

“Who are you, little one? Where can we take you?” Emil asked gently.

“I’m an orphan. I have nowhere to go,”

Felix answered, the bitterness of his past slipping into his tone.

“Who hurt you, boy?” Gleb inquired.

“My... my family...” Felix's voice broke, the weight of his pain evident.

“Ah... I see...” Gleb responded, and there was a heavy silence that followed. Both men fell quiet, as they distanced themselves from the cursed village that had held Felix captive.



After that day, Felix chose not to mention his past again.. The act of thinking about it was too painful, especially at night, so he buried those memories deep within his conscience. They would occasionally attempt to resurface, only to be forcefully pushed back down. He found peace in late nights and early mornings, waking before the chickens in Gleb's small backyard. The man lived in a tiny house, where mold flourished, making the air difficult to breathe. Felix’s cure was to spend as much time outside as possible. Gleb did not force Felix to work, but the boy’s curiosity about carpentry was huge. Before long, he became an eager student, learning the wonders of woodworking in the small workshop behind their home. He enjoyed the experience of cutting and shaping the wood with his hands. The first thing he crafted was a wooden parrot.

“Oh, a miniature chair!” Emil said, pretending to admire Felix’s creation. But as he caught sight of the boy's disappointed expression.

“I’m joking! With you, it’s clearly a—” he faltered, seeking support from Gleb with his big, dark eyes.

“It’s clearly a parrot,” Gleb confirmed, placing a reassuring hand on Felix’s shoulder.

“Yes, a beautiful parrot,” Felix bragged, realizing that his work might be unrecognizable to the two men, but their kindness encouraged him to continue.From that day he became unstoppable. Gleb watched Felix’s determination as he worked tirelessly, rain or shine. The boy treated each piece of wood with respect and pride, pouring his heart into every creation. Soon enough, shapes began to take form: a chair for his room, a desk, and even assistance in fixing the roof. When Gleb was busy with his regular job, Felix took it upon himself to repair windows, proving his growing independence. Eventually, Gleb invited him to join in on a real job—one that would earn him money. Felix had never attended school; in the system, he had never existed. With no documents to his name and no family to claim him, he relied on Gleb’s herbal teas to nurse him back to health when he got ill. Gleb had connections, working exclusively for the finest houses in Moscow, and was well-compensated for his craftsmanship. The country faced economic turmoil that year, and while the majority struggled to access basic necessities, Felix witnessed the great contrast of wealth. He found himself in the company of glamorous individuals who paid in cash and treated them with meals after the work was finished. This both fascinated and irritated Felix.

“How is this even possible? If the country is failing?” he naively asked Gleb one day after leaving a villa with a breathtaking view of the river. Gleb ruffled Felix’s long blonde hair and offered him a warm smile, handing him his share in dollars—the ruble having lost its worth.

“Life is a dirty game; you can’t always play by the rules.”

“But people are suffering while we enjoy outselves...” Felix protested.

“You worked hard for it...” Gleb replied, with his tone so firm. “So do those people on the streets, but they lost their jobs...” Felix countered.

“And they failed to adapt to the new system—a corrupt system. Before you tell me anything else, life isn’t fair, Felix. You either keep swimming, or you drown.”

Gleb's voice turned cold as he walked away, leaving Felix to gaze at the shimmering lights of the only happy neighborhood in the city. Guilt washed over him as he clutched his share of money, and he wished to toss it into the river, yet he found himself unable to do so. After a moment of contemplation, he realized the terrifying feeling of being at the bottom—homeless and unable to afford food. He recognized how cozy it felt to have access to work, a home, and Gleb by his side, caring for him. He was disgusted by the inequality but also proud to be in the company of those who were important, even if he didn’t understand why they held such significance. That night, he made a quiet promise to himself: he would help those who had nothing, just as Gleb helped him. It was a mission that will be impossible to accomplish.



"Well done, son,"

Gleb said, placing a reassuring arm on Felix’s shoulder. A smile brightened Felix's face as he gazed up to the Soldatov family home, a masterpiece reflecting great wealth.

"Wonderful indeed," a voice echoed from behind them. Gleb turned slightly to face a man approaching with an air of fear around him. With a fragile smile and a deep voice, he greeted the elegant older gentleman dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. The man's gray hair hinted at his years, yet his physique was impressively fit.

"Felix, this gentleman is Severin Soldatov, CEO of Medi Group, and also my boss. He has entrusted us with this work in his home, which is a great honor."

"Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Felix replied earnestly, stepping forward to extend his hand. Gleb's attempt to intervene came too late; Severin accepted the gesture with a firm grip.

"You are a remarkably talented young man, Felix,"

Severin remarked, his deep black eyes scanning Felix as if attempting to read his very soul.

"Thank you," Felix responded, with pride in his voice.

"Will you do me a favor?" Severin asked.

"Of course, anything," Felix replied with a wide smile.

"As a man of faith, I would like to commission a gift for our local church. I want you to create a grand wooden cross, all by yourself. Gleb cannot assist you—will you be able to manage this?"

"Sir, it would be my honor," Felix assured him, feeling of great purpose.

"Perfect, son."

The cross Felix made was a stunning piece of workmanship. Reaching to his own height and fashioned from rich teak wood, was in front of Severin weeks later. With a nod of approval, Severin invited Felix to join his family for dinner that evening. Though Felix had become familiar with the estate through various projects, he had never encountered any family members—only the diligent servants. This night was different. The house buzzed with life as Felix arrived alone; Gleb was on duty outside, clad in his black uniform. Felix felt somewhat comical in Emil’s suit, which hung loosely on his frame. Though he could afford finer clothes by now, he preferred to save his money. The service was exceptional, Felix was hiding shyly in the corner, hesitant until Severin approached him.

"Felix, allow me to introduce my son. This is Nikolai Soldatov, the commander of the Soldatov Order, where Gleb and Emil serve. Nikolai, meet Felix, Gleb's son."

"Gleb has a gifted son?" Kima asked. He stood over Felix, showing off a robust strenght, with sharp eyes that seemed to pierce through to the core of things. "Gifted..." The word struck Felix. It had been a year since he had last considered such a notion. His heart raced as his body froze. Could they truly mean him?

"I’m..." he began, but Kima cut him off. "Yes, you are, future boy. We've heard stories about you from the village." The mention of the village sent a wave of unease through Felix. "I’m..." he tried again, but the words wouldn’t come.

"You are a time traveler," Kima said again, locking his gaze onto Felix's face. Fear was obvious across Felix's features, evident and raw. "Yes. I am a time traveler," he admitted, the weight of the truth settling heavily on his shoulders.

"Wonderful! Kima would be honored to have you in his order and help you discover what other abilities you possess, my son. Let us assist you," Severin said. "You are one of us, Felix. We will take care of you from this moment forward." Doubt consumed Felix's heart, knowing the tragic fate of his village, but he pondered what other choice he had. Severin was somehow reassuring, but Nikolai's deep black eyes were sitting heavily on his face. He knew, young Soldatov would have hit expectations of him.