The night was cold, and the boy, a young duckling with crystal blue eyes, was huddled inside a cardboard box with a patchy blanket outside the local gambling den. What once was a tin of corn, faded from use so that it's label no longer resembled anything but the color yellow, laid in front, coins piled inside.
With a sound between a belch and a snarl, the doors of the den swung open.
"C'mere'e boy." The word boy couldn't have been said with more vehemence than if it came out of one's own mortal enemy, yet unfortunately, it had came out of his father.
His father who had reached down and grabbed the old corn tin, upending its contents into his palm.
"Nearly… two hundred, not bad kid." The old man said as he pocketed the coins and threw the tin back at the boy.
"Why hasn't child services taken me yet…" the boy quietly bemoaned, but not quiet enough.
The old man gave a dry laugh. "As witty as ever yah brat. We'll be back to try my luck again tomorrow."
"You have no luck old man." The boy said angrily.
The Father looked down at the boy sternly. "Of course I do. We still have a roof over our heads, water and electricity, yes? I still have a job which allows you to go gallivanting through the streets embarrassing me. And people keep giving you money so I can pay the loan sharks stay off our backs so I can continue getting more chances to make it big!"
"Can you leave me at home for that one day?"
"and miss out of the stupidity of passerby's?" The duck laughed. "Of course not boy."
The wind picked up at that moment, causing the old duck to shiver and rub his arms. "Man, it's freezing."
"I've been telling you that for weeks!"
"Don't you raise your voice at me kid!" The old duck backhanded the boy in the side of the head, sending him sprawling into the cardboard box, ruining it. "I give you a roof over you head and food in your belly, I will not be talked to like that."
"That's the minimum you should be doing!" The boy yelled, stomping his feet, no longer caring about his makeshift shelter.
"I didn't ask for your mom to send you here and dump you at my feet boy, now you're-"
"And I didn't ask for a talentless half-wit like you to be my dad!"
"…"
"…"
The silence that engulfed them wasn't an awkward one, no. The boy's father's feathers had gone beet red with the sheer anger he was experiencing.
By the time the boy gathered enough wits to try and run, his old man had already grabbed the back of his scruff and pushed him against the wall of the gambling den.
Getting close to his face, the old man spoke in a seething tone. "There are only two men in this town that get by. Flintheart Glomgold, and Scrooge Mcduck! Everyone else either lives in poverty, or makes enough to get by."
The boy would have pointed out how that was wrong, but he was busy gasping for air.
"All the wealth is held up by two individuals, but I'll show them, I'll strike it rich, and then I'll be one of the greats!"
The old man finally let go of the boy, who slid down, coughing as he sought to take in as much air as he could.
The old man gently, compared to what he had done before at least, kicked the kid over. "You can stay out here tonight, see how the 'cold air' will freeze some sensibility into yah."
"with a shuddering breath and blurry eyes the boy reached out ot his father who was already walking away. "Wait… Dad, don't leave me! I'm sorry…."
His wailing was for naught. The blurry figure eventually disappeared from his tear-filled vision. The boy huddled there for a little, letting the choking sobs come out. Perhaps other people were just like his father… None of them stopped to check on him, many sped up past him. It was only convenient to give him a little bit of money and go on with their lives…
His sobbing only became shaky hiccups after the moon had fully came out, and the night air had chilled his prone form to the bone. With blanket stretched around him, the boy knew he needed to find someplace, anyplace to spend the night.
If he could make it, the public library stayed open, if he was sneaky he could stay there. And with a heavy sigh, the boy dragged his feet onwards.
The streets were lit up with only the barest streetlights. Duckburg, home to three billionaires and a terrible infrastructure budget.
A cat yowling and a trashcan being knocked over scared the boy as he turned back. A large shadow being cast from the alley caused him to become scared.
The shadow seemed to become bigger, making him try all the shops in the street, hoping, preying someone had forgotten to lock up.
No luck, and as the shadow became bigger and bigger, he tripped over a discarded takeout box, landing with his back against a shop door, horrified as the figure behind the shadow emerged from the darkness…
And stretched it's tawney back… a cat. The boy fearfully laughed at how silly he was. Sure, there were the beagle boys, but they kept to the junkyard, and it wasn't like he had anything valuable on him for them to take.
As he used to shop door to get up, he realized that the doorframe he had landed in was lit up. The door opened with the jingle of bells as he stepped into the warm interior.
Vases, amulets, crystals and more lined the shelves of the shop. The boy looked especially on in wonder at the books locked behind glass, each written in languages he didn't know.
"And what's a fine boy like you doing out so late in the evening?" A high pitched voice greeted his ears, carrying each vowel in her voice like she didn't want to give them up.
"O-oh, I'm sorry…" The words caught in his beak as the boy looked up at the counter. The lady duck who was speaking to him was taller than anyone he had ever met. Tall and lithe, but dressed in a dark pink fur coat and scarf that he wondered how she wasn't sweating inside the warm shop.
"I didn't ask for an apology boy, I asked what you're doing out so late!"
"Oh.." He twiddled his fingers together nervously. "I um… Was left outside… I've never seen this shop before, is it new?"
"New? Heavens no, this shops been here since Duckburg has, only question is why you haven't found it until now hmm…" The lady walked around the desk and squished his face in between her two hands, making him look up at her, inspecting him like he was some prized pumpkin.
"Ahh… that's it, you need a new home."
"What? N-no I don't think-" The boy paused. What did he think? His dad had already all but kicked him to the curb, was being adopted by some strange old lady any more miserable? At least she seemed like she had money, and a shop!
"So… Are you giving me money out of the kindness of your hearts… or do I have to work for rent?"
"Ah, such a smart boy." The lady booped him on his beak before going behind the counter once more. "We'll see, first nights free of charge of course. Oh I'm not like that moneygrubber, we'll see where you stand after that."
With a bigger blanket and a pillow that she handed him, she began speaking once more. "It's rare that those with true gifts enter the shop, it'd be a shame to let such potential go to waste. Come-along, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."
With a shrug, he followed her, but not before asking one more question. "You never shared your name lady."
"Oh, yes, Tiamat's my name dear, how about yours?"
"…Eldridge."
"Oh what a fine name, I'm sure we'll have just a fun chaotic time won't we?"