đź“– Rise Beyond Shadows
Chapter 15 – A Vow in the Storm
Storms had a way of reminding Aiden who he was.
Years passed since that night on the orphanage steps, but whenever thunder cracked across the sky, it pulled him back. The boy curled in the rain was never far behind. Even as he grew taller, stronger, faster, the memory chased him like a shadow he couldn't outrun.
By the time he turned thirteen, the orphanage had become too small for him. Not in size, but in possibility. His spirit stretched beyond its walls, restless, aching for a chance to prove himself. He trained with a stick until his palms blistered, ran laps around the courtyard until his legs buckled, and sparred with boys older than him, never backing down.
Some called it stubbornness. Others called it foolishness. To Aiden, it was survival.
One evening, a storm gathered again. The sky turned iron-gray, and the air grew heavy with the taste of rain. Aiden stood alone in the yard, gripping his wooden staff. Each gust of wind whipped at his clothes, but he refused to move.
"You'll get struck out here," one of the caretakers called from the doorway. "Come inside, boy."
But Aiden didn't answer. He planted his feet in the mud and lifted the staff, staring up at the bruised sky.
When the first bolt split the clouds, lighting the world in silver, he shouted at the heavens.
"You hear me?" His voice broke but rose again, louder this time. "I'll be the best! No matter what you say, no matter what they think—I'll prove it!"
Thunder rolled like laughter, shaking the ground beneath him. Rain poured, drenching him to the bone, but he didn't falter. Each drop was a reminder, each flash of lightning a witness.
"I'll rise above this place," he vowed, gripping the staff so hard his knuckles bled. "I'll rise beyond every shadow you cast over me."
He didn't know if the sky was listening. He didn't know if anyone was. But in that moment, it didn't matter. The vow was not for them—it was for himself.
From her window, Lila watched him. She had long grown used to Aiden's fire, but tonight something in him looked different—sharper, brighter, as if the storm itself had awakened something. She pressed her hand to the glass, her heart tightening.
He wasn't just fighting whispers anymore. He was fighting the whole world.
Later, when the storm quieted and he returned inside, soaked and trembling, she caught him in the corridor.
"You'll kill yourself if you keep doing this," she said, shoving a dry cloth into his hands.
Aiden smirked weakly, wringing water from his hair. "Better to die trying than live small."
Her frown deepened, but she said nothing. She knew nothing would sway him—not when the vow burned so fiercely in his chest.
And so the storm passed, but the vow remained, etched deeper than ever into his soul.
The boy who once whispered to the rain had grown into a young man who shouted into the thunder.
And the storm, whether mocking or blessing him, always answered.