High above the city, people have to look up to you, rather than down. That is why I love this hideaway in the towering city wall. I get to be the one to look down on the ones who are despised by my kind.

Being a street urchin wasn’t exactly the life I had in mind for myself, though, I find that no one’s life goes according to plan. My mother certainly hadn’t considered having me out of wedlock. Or being cast out by my biological father in order to preserve his reputation. No, if I had it my way, I’d be in a stately home with a garden. It would have blooming perennials tucked in beds that are constantly manicured by hired attendants. There would be a gigantic marble fountain in the front lawn, with those chubby babies with wings carved into the stone. Before you would even set your eyes on the front doorstep, you’d know that I was rich.

If only that were true. Instead I scuttle from alley to alley, stealing what food I need to make it through the day. No fountains with babies for me.

My only solace from my toil is up here on the wall. I found it about a year ago, while running from the Lord Highlan’s city guard. I had gotten greedy and attempted to pickpocket a passing tourist who ended up being smarter than they looked. The guard chased me in their gleaming armor, the impending CLANK CLANK CLANK of their footsteps striking fear into me as I ran. I came to a dead end in one of the alleys against the wall. I searched, frantic, finally finding some sort of old maintenance ladder leading to the top of the wall. It was old and rickety and from first glance definitely not something that could support one’s weight. But when you are running from punishment, it’s either a cold jail cell or a risky ascent. I chose the ladder. I scrambled as high as I dared, finding a small alcove in the walls made from years of weathering. I gasped for breath with my back against the wall, heart pounding. After what seemed like a lifetime, I risked a glance down in the alley, and found with relief that the guard assumed I had run the other direction. They hadn’t found my escape route.

Silently thanking God, I finally glanced at my surroundings. The alcove in the wall was circular, with a lip on the bottom edge, perfect for hiding from those below. It was just deep enough into the side of the wall that I could comfortably sit down with one of my arms slightly outstretched if I was against the lip in the rock. I could sit in the rock with my legs outstretched, but not quite lay down. My hands graced the back edge of the alcove to find it jagged and cool to the touch. It was almost like a giant catapult had sent a me-sized boulder into the face of the wall, leaving this crater. After studying my safe haven, my head turned towards the city to see the most beautiful skyline I had ever seen. From the ground, you don’t see just how vast the city is. You might feel it in the ache of your feet and knees as you travel from end to end of it, but never fully see just how far it stretches. From here, you could. To left, you could make out the market districts, bustling with people surrounding wooden stands piled high with fruits, vegetables, and the catch of the day. There was also Lord Highlan’s tower on the right, with guards on the lookout on balconies and below. I saw the sprawling buildings of the nobility in the far distance ahead, contrasted with the slums and streets I was from directly below.

The view given to me by the crater in the wall’s face was the first time I had ever felt power. As if I had the key to the city in the palm of my hand as I beheld its glorious view. Here, I could look down on anyone I wished. Here, I was nobility.

Ever since that day I have returned to my post in my own wall tower. Whenever I am spat on by my fellow citizen for simply surviving, I head to my alcove to remind myself that one day I will look down on them from below, not just from high above the city.