Thwack!
A boy slammed into the wooden support beam hard enough to rattle the wall beside it. Pain exploded through his ribs as the impact drove the breath from his lungs, the force of the punch still burning against his side. Outside the shuttered windows, startled crows burst from the roof while the distant sounds of the estate carried on beyond the walls, muffled and uncaring.
The room smelled of old timber, smoke, and blood.
He steadied himself against the beam, breathing carefully through the ache spreading across his ribs. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth onto the floorboards below as strands of electric-blue hair fell across silver eyes that remained fixed on the boy standing opposite him.
He looked no older than ten. Small even for his age, his short stature had less to do with youth and more to do with years of missed meals and endless labor. Faint traces of baby fat still clung to his bruised face, making it harder to ignore how young he truly was, but the rest of his body told a different story—thin arms hardened by overwork, rough hands lined with old scars, and shoulders that already carried exhaustion no child should have known.
The older boy rolled his shoulder before flexing reddened knuckles. Tall and lanky, he looked more like a starving wolf than a teenager, dirty brown hair hanging loosely around sharp green eyes that always carried a wild, unstable look behind them. A long scar cut down the left side of his face from just beneath his eye to the edge of his chin—something he wore with obvious pride instead of shame.
A grin spread slowly across the older boy's face.
"So the little ghost finally crawled back." He spat blood onto the floor beside him. "What happened, Blue? Thought Master Archibald would've taught you your place by now."
"What's going on, Jordan?"
"You should've stayed down the first time," Jordan said.
Blue simply straightened himself again despite the blood still running from his split lip.
That only irritated Jordan further.
"You know what your problem is?" Jordan stepped forward slowly, boots scraping against the stone beneath the floorboards. "You keep looking at people like you belong beside them."
Blue's expression tightened faintly.
Jordan noticed.
A crooked smile spread across his face. "Especially her."
Blue's gaze sharpened immediately.
The reaction lasted less than a second, but it was enough.
Jordan laughed quietly beneath his breath. "There it is."
Blue already knew who he meant.
Kitana had always treated him differently from the others. Not with pity. Not with contempt. Just… normally. A few conversations during training. Shared meals when the servants forgot him. Small things that should not have mattered as much as they did.
Jordan hated every one of them.
"She talks to you because she feels sorry for you," Jordan continued, though the slight tension in his jaw betrayed more emotion than he intended. "Don't mistake kindness for anything else."
Blue pushed himself away from the support beam despite the protest running through his ribs. "I didn't."
Jordan's eyes narrowed. "Then maybe you're not as stupid as you look."
The insult carried less weight than the bitterness beneath it.
For a moment neither of them moved. The silence stretched while cold air slipped through the cracks in the walls, stirring the lantern flame hanging near the doorway. Blue could hear movement elsewhere in the residence—servants talking quietly, dishes shifting in distant kitchens, footsteps crossing upper halls. Life continued normally beyond this room while Jordan turned the space between them into something smaller and meaner.
Jordan lunged first.
The punch came fast, aimed for Blue's jaw, but Blue twisted just enough for it to glance off the side of his face instead of landing cleanly. Pain still flashed through his head as he stumbled sideways, but he managed to drive his shoulder forward into Jordan's chest before the older boy could reset his footing.
It barely moved him.
Jordan caught Blue by the front of his shirt and shoved him backward. Blue hit the wall again, harder this time, the wood groaning beneath the impact.
"You really think glaring at people changes anything?" Jordan asked quietly.
Blue forced himself upright despite the burning in his side. "No."
Jordan frowned slightly.
"It doesn't," Blue continued, breathing unevenly. "But I'm still standing."
The answer stripped the amusement from Jordan's expression.
His fist drove into Blue's stomach hard enough to double him over. Pain twisted through his ribs as he struggled to draw breath, but before he could recover Jordan grabbed him by the shoulder and hurled him across the room. Blue crashed against the floorboards near the far wall, splinters biting into his palms as he caught himself before fully collapsing.
Jordan stalked toward him again, frustration beginning to bleed through his composure.
Most people avoided eye contact after the first hit.
Most people apologized.
Most people folded long before this point.
Blue dragged himself back to his feet anyway.
The movement was slower now. One arm stayed tight against his ribs while blood continued to drip from his split lip onto the floor beneath him. His body hurt badly enough that even standing felt unstable, but the look in his eyes never changed.
Jordan stopped a few feet away, breathing harder than before.
"I don't get you," he muttered.
Blue said nothing.
The silence bothered Jordan more than insults would have.
Another strike came fast and angry. Blue managed to raise his arm in time, but the force still drove him sideways into the support beam again. Pain flared through his shoulder as the wood cracked sharply behind him.
Jordan stepped forward immediately, grabbing Blue by the collar before he could fall completely.
"You're nothing here," Jordan said. "You know that, right? No family name. No future. No one's waiting for you to become anything."
Blue's breathing slowed slightly despite the pain.
Jordan mistook the calm for surrender.
It wasn't.
Blue lifted his eyes to meet his directly. "Then why are you still trying so hard?"
The question hit harder than any punch.
Jordan's grip tightened instantly.
For the first time since the fight began, uncertainty flickered across his face—not fear exactly, but something dangerously close to it. His pride had always depended on people beneath him staying beneath him.
Blue never did.
Jordan shoved him away violently, masking the moment with anger. "Keep talking."
Blue staggered but stayed upright.
His ribs throbbed. His shoulder burned. Every breath scraped against the ache spreading through his chest, yet something inside him refused to yield completely. The room felt colder now, the shadows in the corners shifting faintly beneath the dim lanternlight as an uneasy pressure brushed briefly across his skin before fading again.
A soft whisper brushed the edge of his hearing.
Gone before he could understand it.
Jordan moved toward him again, ready to force him back down.
The chamber door creaked open before Jordan could close the distance again.
Both boys turned as several figures stepped into the room, bringing cold air and torchlight in with them. At the front stood Simir Glossman, his stocky frame filling the doorway while a pair of older youths lingered behind him alongside several household retainers. Short silver hair framed the jagged scar running along his temple, and his red eyes moved calmly across the room before settling on Blue.
Jordan released a slow breath through his nose and stepped back, the faint satisfaction in his expression making the timing feel anything but accidental.
Simir glanced briefly at the cracked support beam, the blood on the floorboards, then at Blue's bruised face. "Looks like you started without us."