When The Sun Bleeds

The lawless district had no time for the weak.

Kaelion learned that quickly.

The girl tested him at every turn.

She never helped him. Never gave him answers. Never even spoke unless it was to mock him.

And yet.... she was always there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Seeing if he would break.

He wouldn't.

But survival wasn't easy.

His body was still weak. Hunger gnawed at him, his limbs ached, and every step through these streets was a risk. He had learned how to move unseen, how to listen before stepping into an alley, how to tell which vendors were safe to steal from and which ones would cut off his fingers for trying.

But the real danger wasn't hunger.

It was them.

The men the girl had shown him... the ones who didn't beg, didn't steal. The ones who took.

Kaelion had hoped to avoid them.

He should have known better.

They found him on the fourth night.

It happened fast.

One moment, he was moving through the alleys, looking for anything he could trade for food. The next, a rough hand grabbed him from the shadows.

Kaelion fought. He kicked, twisted, tried to break free... but they were stronger.

Two men dragged him into the depths of the district, through twisted streets filled with flickering lanterns and the stench of cheap ale.

They threw him against a crumbling wall.

Kaelion barely caught himself before he hit the ground.

He looked up.

Five of them.

Dirty clothes, rough hands, eyes filled with greed. But their weapons were sharp.

This wasn't a random attack.

This was a lesson.

A man stepped forward, taller than the rest. His grin was all teeth, his voice low and amused.

"Heard about you, boy," he said. "A lost little prince, wandering where he shouldn't be."

Kaelion said nothing.

The man crouched in front of him, tilting his head.

"You've been getting food. Shelter. But you haven't paid for it."

Kaelion's jaw clenched.

He knew what this was.

The lawless district had its own rules. Power had to be earned.... or taken.

"You have two choices," the man continued. "Join us. Or…"

He didn't need to say the second option.

Kaelion's heart pounded.

His mind raced.

He couldn't win a fight. He had no weapon, no allies, no strength. If he fought now, he would lose.

But if he gave in... if he let them take control of him... he would never be free.

His hands curled into fists.

The man sighed. "Not answering, huh? Stubborn little noble brat—"

Kaelion moved.

It wasn't a punch. It wasn't a strike.

It was a decision.

He lunged.. not at the leader, but at the weakest-looking man in the group. The one standing slightly apart, the one whose grip on his weapon was unsure.

Kaelion ripped the knife from his belt.

And before anyone could react... he cut his own palm.

The sharp sting of pain barely registered. But the blood did.

It dripped to the ground.

Kaelion met the leader's gaze.

And smiled.

"You want me to join?" he said, his voice calm. "Then fight me for it."

The men stilled.

Then, laughter.

Loud, amused, but edged with something else.

Respect.

The leader grinned. "Not bad, prince."

He turned, walking away. "We'll be watching."

And just like that, they disappeared into the night.

Kaelion let out a slow breath.

He had won.

Not with strength.

Not with submission.

But with defiance.

When he turned, the girl was there.

She leaned against the alley wall, arms crossed, a small smirk on her lips.

"Not bad," she said, echoing the leader's words. "Guess you won't break so easily after all."

Kaelion wiped the blood from his palm.

He didn't answer.

But for the first time since falling into this place…

He felt like he had truly survived.