The stink of rot and sweat clung to Elarin's alleys like a second skin.
Darian Surya pressed his back to the crumbling wall of a butcher's shed, breathing shallowly. The alley buzzed with the low murmur of beggars fighting over scraps, vendors hawking rotted fruits, and far-off laughter that sounded more like mockery than joy. The sun, high above, beat down on rusted rooftops, but no light reached the ground where he stood. Only shadow. And blood.
His.
It dripped from his temple, mixing with grime. His fingers trembled as he cradled his sister Mira close to his chest. Her face was pale, eyes wide with fear. Rian, his younger brother, stood behind him, shaking silently, trying not to cry.
They had no right to be here.
Once, they lived behind walls of white marble, in a house with servants and soldiers, and a father who stood tall as a war hero. A general. Respected. Loved. Feared.
Now…
They were rats in the sewers of a dying city.
Darian clutched the phoenix-shaped pendant in his hand — the last thing they had from their old life. It wasn't just jewelry. It was a seal, a crest of his family. Of the Surya line. He remembered what his father used to say:
"We rise from ashes, my son. Like the phoenix. Even if the fire takes us."
A cough shook Mira's body. She was burning up. No food, no water for days. No protection.
It was his fault.
He was the eldest. Ten years old, but it didn't matter. The moment they fled their estate — hunted by soldiers, branded traitors — he had sworn he'd protect them.
He had failed.
He should have fought harder. Moved faster. Trusted less. He should've seen the trap when it was set.
Flashback – Days Ago
Darian's eyes fluttered shut.
He remembered their escape.
The torches.
The shouting.
His father's voice — calm even in chaos — whispering into his ear, "Take them. Run south. Never stop. Protect the seal. Survive."
Then the gate crashing down. The glint of spears. His father standing alone in the courtyard, sword raised, shouting false confessions for crimes he never committed.
"If my death protects my family, then let this be enough!"
Darian had watched through a crack in the walls. Helpless. Powerless.
He could never forget the moment the spear went through his father's chest.
Never.
The world shifted.
The pendant burned in his palm.
His head throbbed. No — burned. Images. Threads. Scars. Golden veins of light shimmered in the air, just faintly. Some were bright, others dull, wrapped around people moving through the streets — connected, tangled.
Karma.
He didn't know how he knew. But he did.
Then — agony. A sharp spike in his head. His nose bled. His knees buckled.
It stopped.
He had seen something no child should ever see. The invisible stain on every soul.
He had seen truth.
But truth came with a cost.
"Look what we got here."
Darian snapped out of it.
Two men blocked the alley. One wore rusted chainmail, crooked teeth bared. The other — a lanky beggar with a red boil on his cheek — pointed at the pendant in Darian's hand.
"That's a fancy trinket for a street rat," the beggar hissed. "Hand it over."
Darian backed up, shielding Mira and Rian.
"No."
He didn't know why he said it. He couldn't win. But something inside him refused to yield.
His fingers closed tighter around the pendant.
The guard grinned. "Tough one."
They lunged.
The world blurred.
His body moved. He shoved Rian away, twisted around, and —
A club cracked against his back.
He screamed.
The pendant slipped from his hand.
He reached for it—one last desperate motion—but something struck his head.
Darkness took him.
Elarin Slums – A Little Later
He awoke to warmth.
Blankets. A roof overhead. Faint scent of herbs and spice. A soft mattress under his broken body.
He blinked.
A man sat nearby. Early forties. Trim beard. Fine robes of linen, too clean for this part of town. A thin scar cut across his cheek, and a hawk-shaped ring gleamed on his finger.
Mira and Rian slept beside Darian, curled up under furs. Safe.
"You're awake," the man said. His voice was calm, confident.
Darian tried to sit up. Pain flared. He winced.
"Don't rush," the man added. "You took quite the beating."
"…Who are you?" Darian whispered.
"My name is Ravi." He offered a small nod. "A merchant. One of your father's old allies."
Darian's eyes widened.
"How—how did you find us?"
Ravi smiled faintly. "A follower of mine saw the pendant. Reported it. I recognized the design. Phoenix crest — Surya blood. I came myself."
"So… it wasn't random?"
"No," Ravi said. "I've been watching for signs. Your father entrusted many things to the wrong people… but not all. Some of us still believe in his cause."
He looked at the sleeping twins.
"They're young. They don't need to know everything yet. But you… I know who you are, Darian. And I know what you carry."
Ravi reached into his robe and placed the pendant back into Darian's hand.
"It's more than a family heirloom. It's a key. And a curse."
Darian stared at the gold phoenix. It no longer gleamed, but… it felt warm.
Alive.
Sibling Bond Moment – That Night
Later, after Ravi left to let him rest, Darian lay between Rian and Mira, listening to their soft breathing.
The room was quiet.
Moonlight filtered through cracked windows.
Rian stirred, mumbling something about food in his sleep.
Darian smiled weakly.
He gently touched Mira's forehead. Cooler now. Her fever had broken.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should've been stronger."
Her small hand gripped his shirt.
"You don't have to be perfect," he imagined her saying. "Just don't leave us."
He stared at the ceiling.
If karma was real… then maybe justice was too.
Maybe he could find the truth. Restore his father's name.
No — more than that.
He'd build something better.
A new world.
For them.
The next morning, Ravi returned.
The merchant stood by the window, hands folded behind his back.
"You're safe now. And if you want… I can give you a new name. A new life. One that lets you keep moving forward."
Darian looked down at the phoenix pendant.
It glowed. Just faintly.
He nodded.
"I'll need strength," he said softly. "And allies."
Ravi smiled.
"Then let's build both. Together."