The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the busy streets of Xylodia. Orion, his golden eyes scanning the world around him, wandered through the maze of winding alleys and narrow roads. The city was alive with voices—merchants calling out prices, children playing in the dust, and travelers bartering for goods. The sheer noise and chaos overwhelmed him. He had been on his own for so long that the bustling city felt more dangerous than the wilderness.

  But something gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. The boy with the green dragon eyes. The one who had fought off those older boys with an ease that had left Orion both awed and unsettled. There was something raw and dangerous in him, something Orion couldn’t ignore. He had to find him.

  As if fate had heard his unspoken desire, Orion found himself in the lower quarters of the city, near the docks, where the air stank of fish and damp wood. A commotion ahead drew his attention. A group of townspeople had gathered around a lone figure. Orion quickened his pace, slipping through the crowd until he saw him.

  The boy with the wild black hair and piercing green eyes stood in the middle of the square, his face calm despite the jeers and insults hurled at him.

  “Go back to your mother Ra, you filthy bastard!” a woman spat, her eyes burning with contempt. “Go back to that addicted whore!”

  A rock flew through the air, striking Ra on the shoulder. But he didn’t react. He simply bent down and picked up a piece of half-eaten bread that had been thrown at him, tucking it into a small bag at his side. His face remained unreadable.

  Orion clenched his fists. He wanted to step forward, to yell at the crowd to stop, but his instincts warned him against it. Instead, he watched, studying Ra as the boy endured the abuse in eerie silence.

  Finally, the crowd lost interest and dispersed. Ra turned and walked away, his posture unbothered but his steps heavy. Orion trailed behind him, keeping his distance, watching as Ra navigated the city’s dark alleys and side streets with purpose. Eventually, he stopped near the docks, but rather than heading toward the laborers, he disappeared down a narrow passageway leading into the underbelly of the city.

  Orion hesitated for a moment before following him. He wasn’t sure why, but something compelled him to shadow Ra, to see where he was going. He kept his distance, slipping through the streets unnoticed as Ra made his way through the city’s lower quarters, where the buildings were more rundown, the people more desperate.

  Eventually, Ra stopped in front of a small, dilapidated house. The roof sagged, the windows were cracked, and the walls were covered in grime. It looked abandoned, like a place no one should be living in. But Ra pushed open the door and stepped inside, leaving it slightly ajar.

  Orion crept closer, his curiosity piqued. He moved to the side of the house, peering through one of the cracked windows. Inside, the house was even worse than it looked from the outside. The furniture was sparse and broken, and the air was thick with the smell of sickness and decay. In the far corner of the room, lying in a small, tattered bed, was a woman—Ra’s mother.

  She had black hair, though it was dull and lifeless now, and her blue eyes were sunken, surrounded by dark circles. Even in her weakened state, it was clear she had once been a beautiful woman. But now, her body was frail, her skin pale and almost translucent. She was coughing weakly, her breathing labored.

  Ra knelt beside her bed, his expression as calm as it had been in the square, but there was a tension in his eyes, a pain he wasn’t showing. He reached into his bag and pulled out the bits of food he had collected, placing them on a small, rickety table beside her.

  “Is this it?” she croaked, her voice sharp despite its weakness. “Where’s the money, Ra? You promised me you’d bring back money.”

  Ra didn’t answer right away. He stared down at the food he’d brought, his green eyes clouded with something Orion couldn’t quite place. “I didn’t get any money today,” Ra said quietly. “But I’ll get some tomorrow.”

  His mother’s face twisted with frustration. “Tomorrow? What about now? I need my medicine, Ra. You know that.” She tried to sit up, but her body was too weak, and she slumped back against the pillows, gasping for breath. “What good is this food if I don’t have the medicine?”

  Orion could hear the desperation in her voice, the way she spat the word “medicine” as if it was the only thing keeping her alive.

  Ra didn’t argue with her. He didn’t try to explain or defend himself. He simply stood up, his expression unreadable. “I’ll get the money,” he said quietly. “I’ll find a way.”

  His mother turned her head away from him, coughing again. “You’re just like him,” she muttered bitterly. “Just like your father. Useless.”

  Ra’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t argue or lash out. He simply turned and walked out of the house, closing the door softly behind him. Orion, who had been watching the entire exchange from the window, quickly ducked out of sight as Ra stepped back outside.

  Without a word, Ra began to walk again, heading deeper into the city. Orion hesitated for a moment before following him once more, keeping his distance as he shadowed

  The alleyway stretched long and dark, a labyrinth of filth and shadow where even the bravest dared not tread unless they had no other choice. Orion kept his distance, watching as Ra navigated the sickly maze with a familiarity that made something twist in his gut.

  The stench was unbearable, thick with decay, sweat, and something else—something sharp and acrid that clung to his nostrils. It was the scent of desperation, of lives rotting from the inside out.

  Ra moved with purpose, his boots silent against the cobbled ground as he approached a man sitting on a crate. The man—Paul—lifted his gaze, bloodshot eyes narrowing at first before softening into something that resembled warmth.

  “Ra, my boy,” Paul greeted smoothly, the corners of his lips twitching in a practiced smile. “How are you holding up? Your mother—she doing alright? She need anything?”

  Ra didn’t flinch. “Had some trouble in the square.”

  Paul sighed, a heavy sound as if the weight of responsibility pained him. He reached into his coat, fingers deftly plucking out small vials filled with a murky substance. He placed them on the crate beside him with a quiet clink.

  “Here—take these. Something to keep things steady. You don’t have to thank me, you know I always look out for you.”

  Ra hesitated for the briefest moment before picking them up, pocketing them without a word. Orion saw the tension in his shoulders, the slight way his fingers tightened into a fist before relaxing.

  Paul exhaled, shaking his head. “Ra, you know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have to. I hate putting this kind of thing on you.”

  He leaned forward, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “You’re more than just muscle. I see something in you—potential. Strength. You’re capable of so much more than just scraping by.”

  Ra remained silent, his expression unreadable. Paul took it as a cue to keep going.

  “I don’t like sending you out there for this kind of work, Ra. You know that, right?” Paul sighed again, a well-practiced act of feigned reluctance. “I’d rather not involve you in this, but you know how things are. I need someone I can trust, someone strong enough to handle this. And you? You’re one of the strongest kids I’ve ever seen.”

  He leaned back slightly, studying Ra with an air of reluctant authority. "It’s at the west docks. Some little kids gang’s been moving in, thinking they can cut in on our territory. Normally, I’d send some of the regulars to remind them who runs things around here, but like I said… I’m short on hands tonight."

  Paul’s voice remained soft, careful, as if he truly regretted involving Ra in this. But then, his expression hardened, and his voice dropped lower. "Kill them for me, Ra. Make sure they never come back. No loose ends. I need to send a message."

  Ra’s fingers twitched slightly, but he said nothing. Paul continued, pressing the weight of responsibility onto him. "They are not much older then you, make sure they understand their mistake. Whatever it takes to make them disappear."

  Paul leaned in further. “I wouldn’t normally ask you to do this, Ra. But I’m short on hands tonight. Some of the usual guys are out picking up a delivery. I need someone reliable.”

  Ra's hands clenched at his sides, tension coiling in his muscles. For a moment, Orion thought he might refuse, might see through Paul’s deception. But then, slowly, Ra nodded.

  Paul’s expression remained one of quiet approval, his gaze full of artificial warmth. “That’s my boy. I knew I could count on you.”

  He reached into his coat once more and pulled out a small pouch, setting it beside Ra. “Here. Just a little extra for your mother. Make sure she’s taken care of.”

  Ra looked at the pouch but didn’t reach for it immediately. Paul knew he was testing him, waiting to see if this was some kind of trick. But Paul had played this game long enough to know how to win.

  “I know how much she means to you,” Paul said, his voice gentle. “You’re doing this for her, right? You want her safe, comfortable. This is how you do that.”

  Ra finally picked up the pouch and pocketed it. Paul watched him closely, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly.

  “Be careful,” Paul said, the words soaked in false concern. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  Ra turned without another word and disappeared into the daylight. As Ra turned to leave, Paul reached into his coat once more and pulled out a dagger, pressing it into Ra’s hand. "You’ll need this," he said smoothly, his voice thick with unspoken implications. Ra hesitated, then took it, his grip firming around the hilt as he disappeared into the daylight.

  Paul said

  Paul exhaled slowly, leaning back against the crate. A slow, satisfied smirk crept onto his face as he murmured to himself, "One step at a time, Ra. You'll see soon enough—you’ve only got me to rely on."

  Orion tensed. Ra didn’t even question the order. He just turned and walked away, slipping the dagger into his waistband. Orion followed, keeping to the shadows. Something about the way Ra carried himself sent a chill down his spine. This wasn’t just a street fight. This was something darker.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  They reached the west docks quickly. A group of older boys stood near a stack of crates, talking in low voices. Orion counted at least six of them—bigger, stronger, and armed. Ra approached without hesitation, his green eyes cold.

  “You were warned,” Ra said simply.

  The biggest of the boys, a thick-shouldered teen, smirked. “And what? You gonna stop us, little bastard?”

  Before Ra could move, one of the older boys lunged at him with a wooden club. Orion didn’t think—his body moved on instinct. He sprinted forward and leapt, driving his knee into the boy’s face with such force that he heard the crunch of breaking bone. The boy crumpled instantly.

  Ra turned, his expression unreadable. He said nothing, but there was an unspoken understanding between them now. Orion wasn’t just watching. He was fighting.

  The next attack came fast. One of the older boys swung a knife at Ra, but Ra ducked, slipping under the strike before driving his own dagger into the boy’s side. Blood sprayed the dock planks, but Ra didn’t pause. He twisted the blade and yanked it free, his movements precise and practiced.

  Another boy charged at Orion, swinging wildly. Orion caught the boy’s wrist mid-swing, his grip tightening like a vice. Without thinking, he drove his fist into the boy’s chest. The impact was horrifying. Orion felt bones crack beneath his knuckles, heard the wheezing gasp of breath leaving the boy’s lungs. The boy collapsed, unmoving. Dead.

  Orion froze for half a second, staring at his own hand. He had killed before he even understood what he was doing.

  No time to think.

  Another came at him. Orion sidestepped, pivoted on his heel, and drove his elbow into the attacker’s temple. The boy dropped instantly. Ra had taken down the last one, his dagger coated in crimson. He flicked it to the side, splattering the ground with blood, then turned to Orion.

  “Thanks.”

  Orion exhaled, still shaking from the rush of battle. Ra sheathed his dagger and looked at him again, his green eyes scrutinizing.

  “You should go,” Ra said flatly.

  “No.” Orion crossed his arms. “I need money and food too.”

  Ra’s jaw tensed. “That’s not my problem.”

  Orion stepped closer, his golden eyes burning. “It is now.”

  Ra stared at Orion for a long moment before stepping forward. Without warning, he swung—a wild, brutal hook aimed straight at Orion’s jaw. Orion barely managed to dodge, the punch grazing his cheek, leaving a sharp sting in its wake. Ra wasn’t testing him. He was fighting him.

  Orion didn’t hesitate. He retaliated immediately, a sharp jab aimed for Ra’s ribs. But Ra twisted at the last moment, deflecting the strike with his forearm. Their small fists met with the force of grown warriors, the impact sending a shockwave up their arms. They moved too fast, too precise for boys their age, their bodies acting on instinct honed by hardship.

  Ra dropped low, sweeping Orion’s legs. The attack should have sent him crashing to the ground, but Orion twisted mid-air, his body contorting in an unnatural display of agility. He caught himself on his hands, then flipped back onto his feet, barely missing Ra’s follow-up punch aimed at his stomach.

  Their fight was relentless, a dance of survival and pride. Orion surged forward, launching a flurry of punches aimed at Ra’s midsection, each strike faster than the last. Ra blocked the first few, his stance wide and stable, but one punch slipped through, slamming into his ribs with a dull thud. He grunted but didn’t falter.

  With a snarl, Ra countered. His elbow snapped forward, narrowly missing Orion’s temple. Orion ducked, feeling the rush of air as it passed, and struck back with a spinning kick. The force behind it sent Ra staggering, but he caught himself, planting his foot and launching forward with renewed fury.

  The dock beneath them trembled as they fought. Each movement was a calculated risk, each strike delivered with the intent to prove dominance. Orion knew Ra was strong—maybe even stronger than him—but he refused to yield. This wasn’t just a fight. It was survival.

  Ra feinted left, then drove his knee into Orion’s stomach. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, and for a brief moment, Orion’s vision blurred. Ra saw his chance. He drove a fist toward Orion’s face, aiming to end the fight. But Orion’s instincts screamed at him. He twisted, just barely avoiding the punch, and latched onto Ra’s arm. Using the momentum, he spun, flipping Ra over his shoulder and slamming him onto the dock.

  The wood cracked beneath Ra’s weight. For a heartbeat, everything was still. Then Ra surged upward, tackling Orion to the ground. They rolled, fists flying, elbows striking, feet kicking. Blood splattered against the dock, their knuckles split, their lips bruised.

  Ra caught Orion’s wrist, twisting it, forcing him down. Orion gritted his teeth, fighting against the pain. With a sharp breath, he wrenched his arm free and slammed his forehead against Ra’s. Stars exploded in his vision, but it did the job. Ra reeled back, giving Orion the opening he needed.

  With a primal roar, Orion pushed off the ground, driving his shoulder into Ra’s chest. The force sent them both crashing into a wooden post. Orion pressed the advantage, his fists a blur as they struck Ra’s sides, his ribs, his jaw. Ra spat blood but didn’t fall.

  Instead, he grinned.

  “You’re strong,” he muttered, wiping his mouth. “But let’s see how much you can take.”

  Then he lunged.

  Orion barely had time to react before Ra’s knee drove into his stomach again, harder this time. Orion stumbled, and Ra followed up with a savage uppercut that sent him sprawling. He hit the dock hard, pain flaring across his back. Before he could move, Ra was on him, his weight pinning Orion down.

  Orion struggled, his muscles screaming. He refused to lose. With a sudden burst of strength, he twisted his hips, throwing Ra off. Both boys scrambled to their feet, panting, blood dripping from their wounds.

  They charged at the same time.

  The next exchange was pure chaos. Every strike was raw and desperate. Kicks cracked against ribs, fists slammed into jaws, but neither fell. The pain no longer mattered. The world around them faded. There was only the fight, the burning in their lungs, the fire in their limbs.

  Ra swung again, but Orion ducked, slipping behind him and locking his arms around Ra’s waist. With a roar, he lifted him off the ground and slammed him down. The impact shook the dock, but Ra rolled with it, springing up faster than Orion expected. Before Orion could react, Ra’s foot connected with his shoulder, sending him skidding back.

  They stood again, barely able to hold themselves up. Blood dripped from their noses, their lips split, their bodies covered in bruises. And yet, neither one stepped back. They had nothing left but their will to keep going.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, their bodies gave in. They collapsed onto the dock, lying side by side, bruised and panting.

  Ra wiped the blood from his mouth, glancing at the boy beside him. “Damn,” he muttered between breaths. “Didn’t expect to meet someone my age this strong.”

  Orion turned his head slightly, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. “Orion,” he said finally. “That’s my name.”

  Ra smirked, despite the pain in his ribs. “Ra.” He let the name settle in the air for a moment before continuing. “How are you this strong?”

  Orion stared up at the sky. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “Before now, I just moved. Instinct, I guess.”

  Ra chuckled, though it was more of a rough exhale. “Instinct, huh? Guess that makes two of us.”

  For a moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the distant lapping of the waves against the docks. Then, with a groan, Ra pushed himself up, wincing as he did. “Come on,” he said, offering Orion a hand. “We need to go see someone.”

  Orion hesitated before taking it, pulling himself up. As they walked through the dimly lit streets, the air thick with the scent of smoke and damp wood, Ra spoke again.

  . "Sometimes, I work Paul. He gives me coin, food—things for my mother." His voice was tight, filled with something unreadable. "I don’t like him. He… took advantage of my mother before she was in the state she is now. She wasn't always like this."

  Orion listened in silence. He knew what it meant to do what you had to in order to survive. Still, he could hear the weight of Ra’s hatred beneath his words.

  The streets outside the drug den were suffocating, filled with the lingering stench of decay and filth. The cobblestones were slick with grime, the alleys dark and unwelcoming. Orion followed Ra closely, his senses alert. He had only met Ra today, but even in that short time, he could tell there was something different about him. The man walked with a rigid, controlled demeanor, a quiet intensity that Orion couldn’t quite place.

  They pushed through the rotting wooden door, stepping into the dimly lit interior. The drug den was the same as before, maybe worse. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burnt substances, a haze of smoke clinging to every surface. Shadows stretched grotesquely against the walls, where addicts lay curled up, shaking, muttering to themselves in hushed, broken tones. The room reeked of sweat, despair, and death.

  At the center of it all, sitting behind a crude wooden desk stacked with small vials and wrapped bundles, was Paul. His sharp eyes flickered with amusement as Ra approached, his expression shifting into something mockingly warm.

  “Well, well,” Paul mused, leaning back in his chair with an air of satisfaction. “If it isn’t my favorite kid. Back so soon?” His voice was smooth, deliberate, the tone of someone who thrived on manipulation. “So, did you handle that problem at the west docks?”

  Ra nodded once. “It’s done.”

  Paul let out a low chuckle, reaching for a small tin on his desk, idly tapping its lid before giving Ra an approving nod. “Now that’s what I like to hear. Reliable. Efficient.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I always knew you had it in you.”

  Ra didn’t respond. His hands remained at his sides, clenched into loose fists, his face unreadable. Orion, standing just behind him, observed everything in silence, watching the exchange with wary eyes. He still wasn’t sure what to make of Ra, but he knew enough to recognize the tension in his stance.

  Paul sighed, his expression softening as if he were genuinely invested in Ra’s well-being. “You know, Ra, I don’t say this often, but I’m proud of you.”

  Ra’s fingers twitched slightly, but otherwise, he gave no reaction.

  Paul smiled, the expression one of approval, almost like a proud mentor acknowledging his protégé. “I mean it, kid. You’ve come a long way. You handle business better than most grown men I deal with. You’ve got potential.” “And let’s be honest—someone like you? You don’t really have anywhere else to go, do you?”

  Orion’s jaw tightened slightly. He didn’t know Ra well, but even he could see what Paul was doing. The way the man spoke, the deliberate way he planted the seed of doubt, the way he leaned in, offering something disguised as kindness—it was all calculated.

  Ra remained silent, his expression unreadable.

  Paul continued, his voice taking on a warm, fatherly tone, as if he truly cared. “You know, kid, if you ever need a place—really need one—you can always come here. I’d take care of you. You wouldn’t have to scrape by on your own. I’d make sure you had everything you needed. You wouldn’t have to fight so hard all the time.”

  Orion resisted the urge to scoff. He had only just met Ra, but he could see that Ra didn’t need or want anyone taking care of him. Still, Paul’s words had a weight to them, a pull that even Orion could feel.

  Ra finally exhaled, slow and measured. “I did the job,” he said flatly. “That’s all.”

  Paul studied him for a moment before letting out a short laugh. “That’s fair.” He reached into his desk, pulling out a small bundle wrapped in cloth, just like before. He tossed it to Ra, who caught it easily. “For your trouble.”

  Ra gave a single nod before turning on his heel and walking out. Orion followed close behind, glancing around the grimy interior once more before stepping outside.

  As they walked through the darkened streets, Orion finally spoke. “You good?

  Ra was quiet for a long moment before answering. “Let’s just go.”

  Orion nodded, saying nothing more.

  They arrived at Ra’s home—a rundown shack, barely standing. The walls were warped, the windows cracked, the roof patched together with whatever scraps Ra could find. Inside, Ra’s mother sat slumped against a makeshift bed. Her body was thin, her skin pale, and her eyes clouded with addiction. The moment Ra handed her the drugs, she snatched them, desperation clear in her movements.

  She inhaled deeply, her body twitching, but something was different this time. Her expression softened as she looked at Ra, a rare moment of clarity shining through the fog in her eyes. "You… you're starting to look like your father," she murmured, her voice weak but filled with something tender.

  Ra stiffened, unused to such affection. She reached out, brushing her frail fingers against his face. "Come here," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Let me hold you."

  For a moment, Ra hesitated. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her fragile frame. She felt so small, so breakable in his grasp. Her fingers weakly brushed through his hair as she held him, whispering words only he could hear.

  She then turned her weary gaze to Orion, her lips trembling into a faint smile. "Is this your friend?" she asked Ra softly.

  Ra looked at Orion and hesitated before answering. "I guess."

  Her smile grew just a little. "I'm glad… that you’re not alone."

  Orion glanced at Ra, then decided to step outside, giving them a moment alone. He stood by the door, staring up at the night sky, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He had lost his mother too. He knew this pain.

  Inside, Ra sat there, still holding onto her as her breathing grew shallower. His grip on her tightened slightly. Deep down, he knew something was wrong. The drugs he got this time—they weren’t the same. He could feel it, an unshakable dread sinking into his bones.

  Her breath hitched. "I love you," she whispered, barely there. "You’re not alone, Ra. You won’t be alone."

  Her breathing slowed, then stilled. Ra didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. He just held her, memorizing her warmth, her scent, her voice—knowing that soon, they would all be gone.

  The night stretched on, cold and silent. Orion sat outside, arms resting on his knees, keeping watch over the broken home. The air was thick with the lingering scent of desperation and grief.

  When morning came, Ra stepped outside, his expression unreadable. His eyes were red-rimmed, his body tense as if bracing himself for something unseen. He glanced at Orion, then frowned. "Why are you still here?"

  Orion met his gaze calmly. "Didn't your mother say she was glad you wouldn't be alone?"

  Ra’s lips pressed into a thin line. For the first time, the hard exterior he always carried seemed to waver. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t tell Orion to leave either. Instead, he sat down on the wooden steps, staring at the sunrise as it bathed the ruined home in golden light.

  Orion sat beside him, saying nothing. They just sat there, two boys burdened by a world that had given them nothing but pain. Yet, for the first time in a long while, neither of them felt completely alone.

  After a long silence, Ra exhaled slowly, still staring at the rising sun. Then, without looking at Orion, he spoke. "There's something I have to do. Would you join me?"