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Twenty years before Coppélia’s rescue, on a clear moonlit night, a young man was walking down a poorly lit alleyway, minding his own business, when his path was blocked by the silhouetted form of someone emerging from the shadows. In the light of the moon, the young man could make out the figure, not of a man but a boy – an adolescent probably no more than seventeen years old. The young man wasn’t afraid of the youth – he had never experienced fear in his four years of existence and had no concept of the emotion – but he was a little concerned that he may be late for work. He knew that he wouldn’t lose his job, even if he was late, but he didn’t like to let his employer down. His boss was a good person who treated the young man with respect – something that couldn’t be said for many of
