My younger brother Happy and I were the epitome of joy. At least, that's what our parents named us after.
But we'd never seen them. Apparently, they left us on the mountains—rocks sharp under our knees, wind whipping against our faces, and the scent of damp pine thick in the air. Yikes.
Beasts roamed everywhere. The low rumble of a growl in the valley made my teeth chatter, claws scraped against stone, and sometimes, a roar split the air so close it shook my chest.
But it was alright. We survived. We always did.
Because we had each other.
I could feel Happy's small hand clutching mine when a shadow passed too fast, or when a beast's growl shook the air around us. His heartbeat thumped like a drum in his chest, loud enough for me to hear.
We always wondered what it would be like to be with our parents. To know a place where we belonged.
So we set out on a journey to see the world.
We met lots of beasts—some that sniffed at us, some that chased us, and some that simply watched from the treetops with curious eyes. We met some people too, though we never stayed long enough to belong.
Once, we ran into a terrifying man. His cloak smelled of smoke and sweat. He told us to follow his orders. We didn't. Eventually, we escaped—fast enough that he couldn't catch us. There were others who weren't so lucky; I missed the kid, he had a beautiful tail.
Eventually, we settled in a city. Peaceful. Lively. Full of people.
I didn't like crowded places, so we stayed in the alley instead. It was poorer than the city proper, but it was fine. The kids there were nice.
That always fascinated me. Human kids seemed bright no matter where they came from. Adults were different. Adults frowned, buried in their work. Sometimes, they even cried. Adults cried more than the kids.
We liked to watch people.
Every day seemed the same, but lately, things had changed.
It started when a pair of strangers came to the city. A noble boy and a funny girl with him.
* * *
Happy was already knee-deep in chaos, chasing a stick like it was the greatest treasure in the world. Other kids darted around him, shrieking, laughing. Their voices bounced off the damp alley walls and spilled into the street.
I stayed at the edge where the alley met the main road—my usual spot. Close enough to watch Happy, far enough to vanish if I needed. Carts rumbled past. The air smelled of bread, tar, and too many boots all moving at once.
A shadow passed over the pale sky. Birds chirped, gliding in lazy loops above the rooftops. I lifted my hand and whistled low. Three peeled away from the flock and spiraled down as if waiting for me. They landed lightly, claws brushing my fingers. Their eyes were bright, restless. Just watching. Then, just as quickly, they lifted off. Wings brushed my cheek in a soft rush of air.
I swung over the low wall and climbed onto the roof. Tiles were warm in some spots, slick in others from last night's rain. From up here, the city moved like a slow river—people drifting, stalling, breaking apart, reforming. Nothing stayed the same for long.
Then I saw them.
A boy in plain clothes moved as if space itself stepped aside. Beside him, a girl nibbled at everything she touched. At his side… a dog of bones. Not a trick. Real bones, moving on their own.
People step back to avoid them, but the boy didn't seem to care.
They split at the next turn—the girl to the market, the boy toward the smithy. Something inside me tightened.
A crow floated above him. Its head tilted, following him. Then it looked at me.
I flinched.
For a blink, its eyes burned red—quick, sharp, gone. It banked away, climbing into the sky until I couldn't see it anymore. That was the crow. The one always with 'Him'.
Unease sank deep, like it had found a home inside me.
Two mornings later, the girl—Lila came to the alley. She told us her name like we were already friends and threw herself into games with Happy. His laugh made my chest feel lighter. Just a little. Not much.
But today, she didn't come alone.
The boy came with her.
At first, he didn't speak. He just sat on the cobbles, dug into a pouch, and tossed seeds and nuts in a lazy half-circle. They tapped against the stones. Warm, earthy smell drifted up, familiar enough to make my tongue press against my teeth.
I stayed still. I watched him.
Happy couldn't. His toes curled against the stones, shoulders leaned forward like a bowstring. Two breaths—that's all he lasted.
He burst forward, feet slapping stone, grin wide.
"Happy!!" I lunged, but caught only air.
* * *
Eventually I caught up to Happy... He run too fast. Which is a good sign. Better to be healthy.
My heart skipped a beat when Happy approached the guy at high speed and kicked… beside him? There was a faint sound from big sister afterward. Seems like he caught Lila in one hit. That's my boy Happy—so competent. He always has better sense than me. Always able to notice things that are hidden. Though… I'm able to see farther.
However I started to feel nervous. I'm now in front of the composed guy. I waited, and then exchanged quiet greetings with him. Measured ones. With cautious.
Arven looked at Happy and me for a long moment. He seemed to be thinking, faintly restless—but in the next instant, his eyes lightened, and my heart eased with the shift.
I wondered why he felt this way.
He looked Lila's age, but his eyes… older. Like adults who think three steps ahead while pretending not to.
My gut told me to trust him.
So I decided I would.
I was going to tell him about the crow—and the bandit king we had escaped from.
He was approaching.
*
*
*
Her thoughts snapped back to the alley—the scrape of a cart wheel, the faint tang of wet stone. Somewhere down the street, a hawker's voice rose and fell, muffled by the walls.
Joy leaned closer to Arven, her voice low and tight.
"It stared at me. Its eyes… they glowed red. That's the crow that's always with him."
Her small hands curled into the hem of her tunic.
Arven's hand landed briefly on her head, a warm, steady weight.
"It's okay," he said, calm in a way that made it sound final. "Leave it to the adults."
Past the mouth of the alley, the city baked in summer glare. Arven's eyes flicked toward the hard line of the city wall—and whatever waited beyond it. Skele stood at his side, tail still, blue light steady in his sockets. Lila followed Arven's gaze, shading her eyes against the shimmer.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath. The city hummed, the hawker's cry faded, the sun glared off tiles and stone—and somewhere beyond the wall, something waited. Silent. Watching.
A whisper, quiet as shadow, slipped from his lips.
"Try me, fate."