When The Sun Bleeds

The rain did not stop.

Kaelion stood frozen, water soaking through his fine clothes, weighing them down against his small frame. The girl sat before him in the filth, her body limp, face turned away. The bruises on her skin had deepened into ugly shades of purple and green. Blood mixed with the rain, trailing down her torn arms.

She wasn't crying.

She wasn't moving.

For the first time in his life, Kaelion didn't know what to do. He had been raised to believe that he was the most unfortunate soul in the world. That he was the one suffering. But now, looking at this girl, something twisted inside him.

She was supposed to thank him. She was supposed to beg for his help. That's how it always was in the stories.

But instead, she lifted her head, her dull, lifeless eyes locking onto his.

"You shouldn't be here," she murmured.

Her voice was soft, hoarse, as if she had screamed all her life and had no voice left to give.

Kaelion clenched his fists. "I .... "

A crack of thunder roared, shaking the rotten wooden planks beneath them. The girl flinched but did not cover her ears, as if she had long since grown used to the sounds of violence.

She turned her gaze away from him, looking toward the endless maze of filthy alleys. Her posture changed rigid, wary.

"Go home, noble boy," she whispered.

Kaelion's breath caught in his throat. His body reacted before his mind did, stepping forward, lowering himself onto his knees before her.

"How do you know ?"

For the first time, she let out something close to a laugh. It wasn't joyful it was hollow, bitter.

"You don't belong here," she said. "Your hands are clean."

Kaelion looked down at his own hands. She was right. His nails were trimmed, his skin untouched by scars. He looked back up at her and, for the first time, realized just how different they were.

Her fingers were covered in tiny cuts, the skin rough and calloused despite her young age. The wounds on her arms were layered.. old scars over fresh ones, forming a history of pain he could not even begin to imagine.

His throat felt dry.

The girl shifted, slowly pushing herself to her feet. She stumbled, but she did not fall. The way she moved, slow and deliberate, reminded him of a wild animal.... one that had been wounded too many times to trust anything or anyone.

"You should leave," she muttered.

Kaelion's pride flared. "I don't take orders from you."

Her gaze sharpened, something flashing through her dull eyes... something eerily close to amusement.

"Then die here," she said simply.

She turned, stepping into the darkness of the alley.

Kaelion felt his heart race.

His entire life, people had tried to get rid of him. They looked at him with fear, with disgust. But this girl... she looked at him like he was nothing.

Like he was already dead.

And for some reason, that angered him more than anything.

Without thinking, he followed her.

The girl did not stop him. She did not acknowledge him at all.

She walked, barefoot over shattered glass and broken stone, unfazed. Kaelion struggled to keep up, his noble upbringing betraying him.

He had no idea where he was.

He had no idea how to survive here.

And so, without a word, without a plan..

He followed the broken girl deeper into the darkness.