Luke dragged his feet northward, his entire body smeared with blood and dirt. His clothes, now little more than tattered rags, clung to his battered frame. He had to keep moving.
Finally, he stumbled upon a stream. Kneeling by its edge, he cupped his hands and tried to gulp down rge mouthfuls of water. But as he swallowed, he choked, coughing violently.
Colpsing onto the ground, he y there, taking slow, deep breaths. A broken smile spread across his face—a hollow expression of bitterness and despair as he reflected on his miserable fate.
He was born to a noble family at the edge of the Arya Kingdom, near the border of the Sorfin Kingdom. His family wasn’t wealthy, but they managed a few mines and a small leatherworking industry. With the income, they maintained a modest force of knights and soldiers to keep the monsters at bay, protecting the common folk in their domain.
No one understood why, seemingly out of nowhere, the Sorfin royal family decred war on Arya.
The civilians had fled long before the invasion began, but Luke Asteel’s family stayed behind. Lesser nobles like them were usually spared in such conflicts. But someone in the Sorfin hierarchy had given the cruel order to hunt them down.
Luke could still see his father’s eyes in his mind—the shock, the pain, and the simmering anger buried deep within.
He looked at the dagger in his trembling hand and thought, Why not just end it right here?
But he gritted his teeth and lowered the bde. He didn’t have the courage to take his own life.
He knew he had to press on. Somewhere nearby was a vilge protected by a sword master.
Summoning the st of his strength, he gulped down a small sip of water, then forced himself to his feet. He pushed forward, his legs shaking with each step. His body screamed with exhaustion, but he refused to stop.
Eventually, his vision blurred. His stride faltered. Then, without warning, he colpsed face-first into the dirt.
Time passed...
A faint sound stirred him.
"Hmm..."
Luke opened his eyes to find himself lying in a wooden bed, surrounded by groaning patients. The air smelled of herbs and sweat. Beside him, a young man writhed in pain, his left arm a bloody stump wrapped in bandages.
Luke sat up and looked down at himself. He was dressed in a simple gown like the others.
A nurse nearby noticed and approached him. “Kid, how are you feeling?”
Luke said nothing. The memories of his suffering flooded back, and tears silently streamed down his face.
The nurse gently pulled him into an embrace. “It’s okay, little one. You’re safe now.”
She left briefly and returned with a bowl of gruel. “Eat up—you’re weak,” she said softly.
Luke took the bowl and began eating, savoring the chunks of meat floating in the broth. It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. When he finished, he handed her the empty bowl.
The nurse smiled. “Need another bowl?”
Luke shook his head. “No. I’m full. Thank you for the food.”
She smiled again before walking off to tend to other patients.
Luke stood slowly and found his shoes beside the bed. After slipping them on, he stepped out of the nursery, looking around. He was in a bustling city, unfamiliar and overwhelming.
“Where am I?” he muttered.
“You’re in the Sorfin Kingdom, in Bckwater City,” a nurse nearby answered.
Luke’s heart sank. “How... how did I get here?”
“A soldier found you shivering in the middle of the night,” she expined. “He brought you here, then went back to the front lines. He’s a good man.”
“I need to thank him,” Luke said quietly.
“He’s already gone,” the nurse replied. “War doesn’t give much time for rest.”
She studied him for a moment before asking, “So, kid, do you have anyone? Family? A home?”
Luke’s silence was answer enough.
The nurse sighed. “Another war orphan, huh? Come with me—I’ll take you somewhere that can look after you.”
Luke hesitated, distrust gnawing at him. But he had no other options. Reluctantly, he followed her.
She led him through winding alleys until they arrived at a nondescript building hidden away from the main streets. Knocking on the door, she called out, “It’s me. Open up.”
A muffled voice replied, “Who is it?”
“Who is it?!” she snapped. “I’m the one who saved your sorry hide st time. Open the damn door.”
After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a nervous-looking man.
“Big sis, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “You know things are rough right now. The city’s cracking down on us.”
The nurse shoved past him, dragging Luke inside. “I don’t care about your excuses.”
The hideout was filled with burly, rough-looking men and women. They eyed Luke suspiciously, making him feel even smaller.
The nurse gestured toward him. “See this kid? You’re going to take care of him until he can fend for himself.”
The leader, a gruff man with a scar running down his cheek, scratched his head awkwardly. “Sis, we can barely take care of ourselves...”
Before he could finish, the nurse pulled a needle from her pocket and spoke in a low, menacing tone. “I said, take care of him. Or the next time I’m here, you’ll have more needles in your veins than you can count.”
The boss sighed heavily. “Fine. Fine. We’ll take care of him.”
The nurse smirked. “Good.” She patted Luke on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay now, kid. These folks may look rough, but they’re loyal. Just keep your head down and listen.”
And with that, she left, leaving Luke in the company of the criminals who would become his new family.
