Alfred
Alfred, the Wayne family's butler, arrives at my family's country home in a beautiful carriage drawn by two black horses with shiny, carefully brushed manes. The carriage looks elegant and imposing, with gold details shining in the strong morning sunlight. Alfred is wearing a black tailored suit and a top hat on his head. As he steps out of the carriage, Alfred greets my father with a gentle smile and a nod of his head. He straightens his suit to make sure it isn't wrinkled and walks with elegant, firm steps toward the low gate. With a polite smile on his lips, he enters the courtyard and looks at me.
Alfred is a middle-aged man, around 50 years old, but his appearance is as impeccable as his reputation. He is tall and elegant, with impeccable posture and an attentive gaze that conveys his attention to detail. His gray hair is cut short and slicked back, with a healthy sheen that reflects his personal grooming. His face is chiseled with sharp features, and he has a penetrating gaze that suggests he is capable of seeing through any deception.
Alfred seems ready to start another day of work, as in my past life, and I'm sure he hasn't missed my expression of surprise this time either. I had so many questions in my head, like if Alfred is here, does that mean everyone else is here too? Clark, Diana, John... Everyone from the Justice League? And if Alfred is still working for my family in this world, does that mean we're not as poor as I thought we were? After all, I was born in a country house.
Deep down, I know I haven't found the answers to any of these questions yet. So I can only be thankful that I can live with my parents again and see Alfred.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Bruce Wayne," Alfred says with a smile as he takes my small right hand for a handshake. At that moment, I close my fingers and accidentally grab one of his, causing both my father and Alfred to smile.
Then my father and I get into the carriage driven by Alfred to the distant city of Gotham. It was strange for me to enter the Gotham of this world. Gotham City, once known for its skyscrapers and advanced technology, is now a maze of narrow alleys and streets full of low wooden houses and stone buildings. The many asphalt roads have given way to dirt paths between buildings and loose stones on the streets, and the sound of horses, carts, and carriages has replaced the sound of cars.
The city is surrounded by a large stone wall with watchtowers scattered at regular intervals. The streets are narrow and winding, with little lighting in the alleys between them and many shadows, making it easy for criminals to hide. Smoke from fireplaces and torches fills the air, mixing with the smell of grilled meat and smoked fish from the markets and taverns.
People walk through the streets in dark and heavy clothes, their capes swaying in the wind and swords sheathed. I was expecting to see peasants or normal citizens, not so many armed people.
The markets are filled with products, including meats, cheeses, breads, fruits and vegetables, but there are also vendors openly selling swords, axes, potions and other things that in the normal world would be illicit. In the center of the city, there is a large castle where the ruler of the city lives and governs.
My father, Thomas Wayne, noticed my expression as he looked out the carriage window at the city, then he said with a serious look:
"Son, listen to what I'm about to tell you. Gotham is a dangerous place, full of crime and corruption, where justice is often not served as it should be. It's a place where the weak are currently oppressed and the strong dominate, but I also believe that one day it will be the home of hope in this world."
I look intently at my father as he speaks and notice the sadness in his eyes. He seemed worried and even a little afraid, which made me even more anxious. Looking at him like this, it even seems like he feels guilty. However, my father was soon able to change the subject and return to his normal expression.
Shortly thereafter, my father walks through the winding streets of Gotham with me in his arms and a hood covering his face. He looks around carefully, observing his surroundings and making sure we are safe at all times, even in the genteel part of the city.
The streets are busy, full of people carrying shopping bags and going about their daily routines. The local markets are filled with fresh produce, including meats, cheeses, breads, fruits and vegetables, and the delicious aroma wafts through the air.
The noble neighborhood seems much more inviting than the neighborhoods near the walls.
Arriving at the large center of the Noble Quarter, Thomas takes me for a walk around the large castle where the ruler of the Kingdom of Arkham and his family live. As he shows me the tall towers of the castle, he assures me:
"One day, my son, you will be the guardian of this city." He has a smile on his face. "You will be strong and brave, like a true knight. And when I am gone, you will look after Gotham as a king should."
He says this innocently, mumbling, thinking I still haven't understood a word of what he's affirming. And it is true, a normal version of baby Bruce Wayne would not understand a word of what he said, but I understand and look at him with the admiration he deserves, except when I finally understand the true weight of his words.
If, when my father dies, I have to look after Gotham like a king, does that mean I'm the Prince of Gotham?!
...
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