From his central position in the dining hall, Darion observed with the air of superiority that his leadership afforded him a steadfast presence that dominated every corner of the orphanage. At ten years old, he had grown not only in height but also in the confidence that came from being accustomed to obedience without question. His followers, always present, formed an invisible yet palpable barrier around him, as if the space they occupied belonged to them by right, a territory marked by Darion's will.
The arrival of a new boy did not go unnoticed. Gideon, with his slender build and dark hair cascading in waves to his shoulders, crossed the entrance of the dining hall with a calm that clashed with the surrounding din. Although the laughter and conversations continued, Darion noticed the distance that surrounded Gideon a nearly instinctive separation that made him stand out from the crowd. While the other children barely paid attention, Darion scrutinized him with an interest that only a predator could understand. There was something about Gideon, an intensity in his gaze that couldn't be ignored, a hidden fire behind those eyes that spoke of future challenges.
As Gideon moved between the tables, Darion, leaning slightly forward, caught the attention of his closest followers. Balthazar, always eager to win his favor, murmured with a malicious smile, —Look! The new guy is here—
It wasn't common for someone new to enter his territory without a hint of fear. Darion's eyes narrowed, assessing every movement of Gideon. A quick exchange of glances with Ariella, who returned a smile loaded with malice, sealed a tacit agreement between them. They knew what needed to be done.
When Gideon attempted to sit down, Darion was the first to stand, and his group moved in perfect synchronization to encircle the newcomer. The scene was a rehearsed dance, a choreography of intimidation they had executed many times before, and had always produced the desired result.
—Look who's finally arrived— Darion said with a mocking tone, his voice laden with studied contempt. —The new kid. They say you're just a poor orphan who doesn't even know how to handle a horse's reins— Laughter echoed around Gideon, a cruel chorus that typically broke the will of any newcomer. But Gideon, instead of showing fear, met the challenge head-on, a reaction that momentarily puzzled Darion.
—I'm looking for a place to eat. Is there a problem with that, big nose?— Gideon replied with a firmness that cut through the air. His words, charged with an unexpected audacity, disrupted Darion's choreography, momentarily unsettling him.
—It seems the new kid has some guts— Ariella interjected, her dangerous smile mirroring Darion's words. But Darion didn't need Ariella to take control; this was his territory, his game. He stepped forward, his green eyes flashing with a mix of challenge and curiosity, while his voice dropped to a menacing whisper.
The confrontation was inevitable. When Darion threw the first punch, he did so with the confidence of someone who had never known defeat. But Gideon dodged with an agility that surprised Darion, and countered with a left hook that struck with unexpected force. The impact was a bitter reminder that not everyone in the orphanage could be easily subdued.
The fight was brief but intense, a clash of wills that shook the balance of power Darion had maintained for so long. Accustomed to the submission of others, Darion faced a real challenge, an opponent who wasn't intimidated by his dominance. The murmurs and stares of the other children only heightened his frustration, but before the situation could escalate further, the intervention of the older children ended the conflict.
Hours later, Darion intercepted Gideon in a dark, narrow hallway, away from the distraction of the crowd. The dim light of the lamps cast elongated shadows on the stone walls, creating a setting ripe for a quieter yet no less significant confrontation.
—You're tougher than you seemed— Darion admitted, his words blending a cold admiration with a smirk that barely constituted a smile. He didn't see Gideon as a rival but as a potential asset, a valuable resource that could strengthen his control over the orphanage.
Gideon, still on guard, looked at him with the same firmness he had shown in the dining hall. —What do you want?—
—I want you to join us— Darion replied without hesitation. He could recognize value when he saw it, and Gideon possessed what he valued most: determination, strength, and, above all, resilience. This made him valuable, a key piece that, under his command, could further consolidate his power.
Silence filled the hallway, each second weighing on the decision Gideon was about to make. Darion watched the internal struggle reflected in the other boy's eyes, confident that his influence, as always, would prevail.
Finally, Gideon agreed, though not without making his conditions clear. —Fine," he said, "but if I join, you won't betray me—
Darion smiled, a smile that didn't reach his eyes but was sufficient to seal the deal. When Gideon shook his hand, Darion felt his group strengthen. He had found a new ally, one who, if he played his cards right, could become a crucial piece of his small empire in Righrean. But deep down, he knew Gideon wasn't like the others; this new member brought with him a challenge that could change the rules of the game.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Moon
FantasyWhat is destiny? Is it even real? Or is it perhaps a lie that others use to make us part of their will? Maybe the world won't live long enough to know. Since the Moon no longer shines, the night is darker.
