Steel clashed again as Rafael and the masked boy collided in the cramped room. The boy moved with surprising precision—quick, sharp, almost feral. Rafael countered using the martial arts he remembered from his past life, but his body couldn't keep up. Every dodge came a fraction too slow, every strike lacked the force he wished he had.
The boy pressed forward relentlessly, blade flashing in the dim light. Rafael narrowly avoided a slash to the throat, then another at his ribs. His lungs burned.
He's good… too good.
Another strike came. Rafael ducked, barely, feeling the edge graze his hair. He had no choice. Wind magic surged around his arm as he thrust his palm forward.
Wind Burst.
The spell hammered into the boy's chest, sending him flying into the wall with a violent thud. Dust rained from the ceiling.
Rafael steadied himself, turning toward the girl. She stared at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, trembling. Blood streaked her dress, her face, her arms. Her lips quivered.
"P-please…" she whispered.
Rafael felt something stir—a flicker of pity. Something he wasn't used to feeling. He clenched his jaw and tried to ignore it.
"Help… me..." she cried, reaching out.
He looked away. He couldn't afford distractions.
The boy groaned, pushing himself off the floor. Rafael charged. The boy rolled aside, snatching his short sword from the ground, and drove his fist into Rafael's gut. Pain exploded through Rafael's stomach. He staggered back, gasping.
The boy didn't hesitate; he attacked again, blade coming down in a clean arc. Rafael parried with his knife, sparks ripping through the air as they clashed once more.
I can't lose here, Rafael thought. My Mother… needs that reward.
He raised his arm, wind magic swirling for another blast—
—but this time the boy reacted first.
A fire sigil flashed beneath his palm.
Flames erupted.
The fire spell slammed into Rafael's wind, and the two forces collided in a violent explosion. A shock wave tore through the house. Fire swallowed the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Wood cracked and snapped as the structure groaned under the sudden chaos.
Rafael stumbled, coughing as heat scorched his skin.
The whole place is coming down.
The boy was already gone—he'd leapt through a window, vanishing into the night. Rafael's gaze snapped back to the girl. She lay helpless on the floor, crying, shaking, trapped. He cursed under his breath, then sprinted toward her. Scooping her into his arms, he dashed through the collapsing doorway just as a flaming beam crashed behind him.
Outside, he laid her gently on the ground. The villagers were beginning to rush toward the flames, shouting in panic. The girl stared up at him, but all she could see beneath his hood were his blue eyes, shimmering in the night.
He disappeared before she could speak.
Rafael bolted after the boy, sprinting through the darkness. His legs burned, but he didn't stop. Up ahead, he spotted a small figure climbing a hill, stumbling from exhaustion.
He pushed himself harder. At the top, Rafael caught him. He tackled the boy to the ground, knife pressed against his throat. The boy's mask had fallen off. He looked so young.
Too young.
A single tear slipped down his cheek. "P-please… don't kill me…"
Rafael hesitated—just long enough to see the fear in the boy's eyes.
He tied him up instead.
"Talk," Rafael demanded.
The boy swallowed hard. "My… my name is Malrek."
Rafael's eyes widened slightly at the name.
"I'm an orphan," Malrek continued, voice trembling. "The orphanage barely feeds us. Sometimes… sometimes days go by without food. So I— I stole. I didn't know what else to do."
Rafael frowned, keeping the knife steady. Malrek went on, tears now rolling freely. "I was abandoned when I was a baby… beaten by thieves when I ran away… nobody cares about us. I just… I just wanted to survive."
Rafael felt the fight drain out of him. He looked at the terrified boy tied before him, then toward the burning village behind them, then back again.
He imagined dragging Malrek to the chief, collecting his reward and buying medicine for his mother. He imagined Malrek starving alone in the cold. And for the first time, Rafael hesitated. That's when an idea sparked in his mind—one that could change both of their lives.
Malrek sat on the ground, wrists bound, brown hair messy and dirt-streaked. His brown eyes—wide, frightened, but stubborn—fixed on Rafael."What… what kind of idea do you have?" he asked.
Rafael exhaled slowly. "It's a win–lose… win–lose kind of plan."
Malrek blinked. "That sounds terrible."
"It is," Rafael admitted. "But it'll work."
He crouched down so they were eye level."There's a 10,000 gold bounty on your head. If I bring you in, the chief pays me."
Malrek stiffened, fear flashing across his face.
"But," Rafael continued, "once they lock you in the village prison, I'll come back. When no one's watching, I break you out. Then we split the reward. Half for you, half for me."
Malrek's jaw dropped. "A-Are you insane? That's suicide! The guards will kill you, and the chief will hunt me down forever!"
Rafael shrugged. "Maybe. But I need that money. And you need to live. That makes this the only plan that works for both of us."
Malrek's eyes darted around nervously. In the distance, the glow of the dying fire at the chief's house flickered—villagers had already extinguished the flames. Voices echoed faintly through the night.
He swallowed hard."You're crazy," Malrek whispered. "Completely crazy."
"But you agree," Rafael said. After a few long seconds, Malrek nodded. "Fine… fine. I'll do it." Rafael cut the rope binding his wrists. Malrek rubbed his hands together, then asked, "But why did you ask earlier? About… the girl." Rafael's expression hardened. "Because if all you wanted was to rob the chief, you could've taken the money and left. Instead, I found you standing over her. Sword drawn. She was terrified."
Malrek's eyes darkened—not with anger, but with something heavier."Let's finish our mission first," he said quietly. "Then I'll tell you why." He stood, dusting off his tattered clothes, and began walking toward town. Rafael watched him, unsure whether to trust the boy—but with no other real choice.
"Meet me at the well tomorrow night," Rafael called out. Malrek glanced back and nodded once. "Okay." Then he disappeared into the shadows.
Rafael made his way home under the dim lantern lights of the village. People whispered in confusion about the fire, about the attack, about the mysterious cloaked figure who pulled a girl from the burning house.
He avoided their eyes and slipped inside his small home.
His mother lay in bed, looking worse than she ever had. Her breaths were shallow, her eyelids heavy, her skin pale and cold. She tried to speak when she saw him, but no sound came.
Rafael knelt beside her, taking her frail hand."It's okay," he whispered. "You don't have to talk." She blinked slowly—once, twice—trying to smile. Rafael swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to be strong."I'll take care of you," he murmured. "I swear it."
He stayed beside her until her breathing steadied, then lay down on the floor beside the bed, exhaustion finally catching up to him.
Tomorrow, everything would begin. Tomorrow, he would betray the village… save a thief… and earn the money that might save his mother's life.
He closed his eyes and slept.