Kael held the small beggar child tightly in his arms, feeling the boy's small frame tremble against his chest.
Without looking back, he sprinted through the winding alleys, his feet pounding against the cobblestones.
Behind him, the shouts of Erianlia's guards echoed, but their footsteps were slower, heavier.
Kael's breath came in sharp bursts, but his legs carried him swiftly and surely, weaving through narrow passages only someone who knew the city well could navigate.
"Where do you live?" Kael asked between gasps, glancing down at the boy's wide, frightened eyes.
The child with his low voice "Down the lane. Past the market. Near the old well." he pointed.
Kael nodded, turning sharply as the boy pointed the way.
The streets grew narrower, the shadows deeper.
Kael's heart pounded—not just from the running, but from the responsibility pressing down on him. He wasn't just running for himself now; he was running to protect this small life.
