Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Our Reality

The old townhouse groaned softly in the wind, its battered frame whispering secrets through the warped boards and cracked stone. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of smoke and herbs, a fragile haven crafted from forgotten ruins. As Taigami stood in the dim light of the fire pit, still shaken from the night’s close call, a strange hush had settled between the boys—until a sharp presence cut through it.

Ivan was staring at him.

Despite the unusual color, his buzz cut makes the hair easy to manage, complementing his youthful energy and playful demeanor. The dark skin and bright yellow color-haired boy stood directly in front of Taigami, his feet planted like roots, his copper red eyes practically glowing in the firelight. There was something wild in his energy—like lightning barely contained beneath his skin. His head tilted slightly as he studied Taigami, as if trying to decode a mystery written on his face.

The silence dragged just long enough to become uncomfortable.

Then Ivan’s voice burst forth, cracking the air like a whip. “Hey! You—what’s your name?”

Taigami blinked, caught off guard.

“I—I’m Taig—”

But Ivan didn’t wait. He leaned in so close Taigami instinctively leaned back, and the questions came like rapid-fire magic spells.

“Where are you from? How old are you? What Energy type do you have? Are you from another city? How long have you been in Throst? Are you mute or just shy? Wait—you’re not mute, right?!”

Taigami barely had time to draw breath, let alone form a reply.

Taigami's mouth opened, closed, then opened again in pure disbelief. "Uh... by the way..." he began, trying to regain some footing in the whirlwind that was Ivan, "why exactly were those merchants chasing us?"

Sky shifted uncomfortably where he stood near the wall, brushing his sapphire-blue bangs from his eyes. "Well..." he began in a hushed voice.

"It’s because we steal their merchandise," Prince said flatly, cutting Sky off.

His voice was cold and sure, like stone grinding against stone. He didn’t even look at Taigami when he said it—just stood there, arms folded, one shoulder leaning against the broken wall like a rogue who had seen too much too young.

Taigami’s heart thudded in his chest. “You... you steal? Why?”

The fire crackled.

Prince’s eyes flicked toward him. “Because we’re orphans. We steal to eat. To live. Because this city doesn't give a damn about kids like us unless we're chained and sold like cattle.”

The words were spoken without pity. Not even anger. Just... truth.

Taigami looked between them—Prince, Sky, and Ivan. Three boys roughly his age, yet each carried something ancient behind their eyes. Something worn and bruised and hardened.

Prince stepped away from the wall and walked slowly to the fire. He crouched beside it, staring into the flames like they might speak back.

“Most of us came here with nothing,” he said, his voice quieter now, less sharp. “Sky was found near the docks, shivering under a pile of nets. Barely breathing. Didn’t even speak back then.”

Sky looked down, lips pressed into a thin line. The firelight shimmered in his sapphire eyes, revealing something old and wounded beneath the calm.

“Ivan lived in an alley for nearly a year before I met him. Pickpocketed every drunk that stumbled out of the south taverns. Nearly got killed once for taking a silver coin. He was only nine.”

Ivan’s grin had disappeared. He looked down at his hands, fingers twitching slightly as if remembering the weight of cold and fear.

Prince’s jaw tightened. “We were many. Dozens of us. Street kids. Wandering souls.”

He looked up now, meeting Taigami’s gaze. The fire reflected in his obsidian eyes.

“The merchants noticed us. Not to help. No—just to profit. Some of them had deals with the child traffickers who docked in Throst under different names every week. Took the healthy ones first. Then the clever ones. Then even the sick ones.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Taigami’s breath caught in his throat.

Prince stood slowly, eyes never leaving Taigami’s. “Sky, Ivan, and I—we escaped. Barely. The others... we don’t know what happened to them. Probably sold across the ocean. Forgotten.”

A deep silence followed. Only the fire spoke.

“We don’t steal because we enjoy it,” Prince added. “We do it to eat. To survive. And maybe... maybe hurt those who thought they could sell us like livestock.”

Sky, quiet until now, shifted slightly where he sat cross-legged near the fire. “Also…” he began, his voice almost a whisper, “we try to steal money from the merchants too. We think… maybe if we gather enough, we can rent a ship. Leave this city… start over. Somewhere far.”

Taigami turned his head toward him, surprised by the softness in his tone. The idea of escape—of a new life—hung in the air like smoke. For a moment, it felt like something real.

But Prince cut in, sharp and grounded as ever. “But stealing their money isn’t like stealing their goods,” he said, voice steady. “It’s harder. They guard their coin purses like they’re glued to their skin. We’ve managed to nab some here and there—but it’s not nearly enough for a ship.”

Ivan clapped his hands together and jumped up, punching the air. “Then let’s go back out tonight! We can try again. Maybe hit the docks—those drunken cargo guys always drop something!”

Prince gave him a look. “It’s too late, Ivan. And we’re all drained.” He glanced at the others, then to Taigami. “We need rest. Let’s not be stupid about this.”

Ivan huffed but didn’t protest.

Prince stood and walked over to a tattered sofa in the corner, patched up with rope and cloth. “You’ll sleep here, Taigami,” he said. “It’s not much, but… it’s better than concrete.”

Taigami nodded slowly and eased himself onto the couch. His body ached. His head buzzed. Sky curled up near the fire with a blanket of stitched rags. Ivan dropped onto the wooden floor, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bouncing restlessly. Prince sat against the wall, near the door, eyes half-lidded but alert.

The room quieted, the only sound the faint crackle of the dying flames.

Taigami stared up at the ceiling, breath shallow. One day ago, he was in his father’s lab. A family. A home. Now he was on a stolen couch in a broken house, his future eaten by fire and chased by ghosts in iron masks. He clenched the thin blanket over his chest.

I’m still useless, he thought. Just like then…

----------------------------------------

Two days later, the sun hung high above the slums, casting long slanted shadows between the rooftops. The four boys crouched behind a stack of crates near a bustling alley. Down the road, three merchants were unloading silk bundles and metal boxes into a warehouse.

“Alright,” Prince whispered. “Same plan. Ivan, you make noise near the barrels. Sky—mist cover on my signal. I’ll take right flank. Taigami—stay here.”

Taigami’s face fell, but he nodded.

Ivan grinned, cracked his knuckles, and darted off. With one kick, he smashed a stack of tin pans into the road, causing a loud, crashing clatter.

“What the—?!” one of the merchants turned.

Right on cue, Sky inhaled sharply, then exhaled. A cold wave swept across the alley, filling the space with a veil of white mist. The merchants staggered back, blind.

Prince was already gone—a flash of electricity sparking from his feet as he dashed across the fog, lifted two boxes, and vanished into the alley.

Ivan moved like a blur, strength-enhanced limbs letting him vault over a wagon, snatch a satchel from a distracted guard, and roll to safety. Sky backed away slowly, one palm held out, maintaining the mist.

It was over in seconds.

They regrouped in a narrow backstreet, panting and giddy.

“That was clean!” Ivan exclaimed. “Did you see that roll I pulled? I should get a medal or something.”

Sky smiled faintly, still catching his breath. Prince was already checking the contents of the stolen bag.

Taigami, however, stood apart. Hands clenched. Eyes down.

“I didn’t do anything,” he muttered.

Prince looked up. “You stayed out of danger. That’s enough for now.”

Taigami didn’t respond. He stood there, trying to suppress the sting crawling up his throat. His hands were still empty. His breath, shallow. The others were smiling, proud of their haul… but he could only see the gap between them and him.

Sky, still catching his breath, glanced over.

He saw it.

The slouch in Taigami’s shoulders. The way his eyes didn’t meet theirs. The silence that curled around him like mist.

Sky hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer. “Um… Prince,” he said quietly.

Prince, kneeling beside their small sack of loot, didn’t look up. “What’s up?”

Sky rubbed his arm nervously, then looked to Taigami again. “What if… we helped him? Like… helped him find out what kind of Energy he has.”

Prince froze mid-search. His fingers hovered over a golden clasp. Slowly, he looked up at Sky, then at Taigami.

A flicker of thought passed through his eyes.

“That’s… not a bad idea,” Prince muttered. “If he has a dormant Divergent Energy, it might still be waiting to awaken.”

Taigami blinked, startled. “Wait… you think I could actually—?”

Ivan shot up like a spring. “OH! YES! That’s genius!” He began pacing excitedly. “Maybe he’s got explosive fire fists! Or or—maybe gravity powers! Oooo, or some stealth thing like shadow teleportation!” He turned dramatically toward Taigami, finger pointing like a prophet. “You could be a legend and not even know it!”

Taigami’s heart kicked. Something about Ivan’s excitement stirred something buried deep in his chest. Hope…?

Prince stood up, arms crossed, gaze thoughtful. “It won’t be easy. But we can try. Tomorrow, we’ll take him to the old shrine. If anything’s hidden inside him—it might respond there.”

Sky nodded softly, watching Taigami with quiet concern. “You deserve to know… who you really are.”

The wind picked up, whistling through the alley like a whisper of fate.

Taigami looked at all of them—these broken, wild boys who had risked their lives not just to survive, but to include him.

He swallowed hard, nodding once.

“Yeah,” he said. “I want to know.”

And somewhere, in the distance—deep beneath the ground—the shadows shifted.

Something had heard.