Chronicles

Chapter 1: Ragar X. Blue

---

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the narrow, winding alleys of the slums. The air was thick with the smell of decay and desperation, but Ragar had long grown used to it. This was the only home he had ever known-the labyrinthine streets of the Aeros Kingdom's underbelly, where the forgotten and the unwanted fought for survival.

Ragar's heart pounded in his chest as he darted through the alleyways, his bare feet slapping against the cobblestones. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn't dare slow down. Behind him, the shouts of the kingdom's security force echoed off the stone walls, growing louder with every passing second.

"Stop, thief!" one of the guards yelled, his voice filled with the authority of a man used to being obeyed.

Ragar didn't need to glance over his shoulder to know they were gaining on him. He could hear the heavy clanking of their armor, the sound of boots thudding relentlessly against the ground. They were closer than he liked, but he couldn't afford to be caught-not now, not ever.

In his right hand, he clutched a piece of bread, its crust still warm from the baker's oven. It was a small thing, but to Ragar, it was precious. He could feel its softness, the way it yielded under his grip, a simple pleasure that had been denied to him too often. In his left hand, he held a full bottle of wine, the glass slick with condensation. It was the first time he'd ever managed to steal something so valuable, and he wasn't about to let it go to waste.

His tattered clothes flapped around him as he ran, barely holding together at the seams. They were the only garments he owned, and they marked him as what he was-one of the slum-dwellers, a boy with nothing to his name except his wits and his speed. The guards wouldn't hesitate to arrest him on sight, if not for theft, then simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Ragar's mind raced as he tried to think of a way out, a place to hide where the guards wouldn't follow. The slums were a maze, and he knew them better than anyone, but even he was running out of options. He could feel the burn in his legs, the ache in his lungs. He had been running for what felt like hours, though it had likely been only minutes.

As he rounded a corner, he spotted a narrow gap between two crumbling buildings, barely wide enough for him to squeeze through. Without hesitating, he darted into the gap, pressing his back against the rough stone as he tried to quiet his breathing. The space was dark, and the stench of rot was overpowering, but it was better than being caught.

The guards' voices grew louder as they approached the corner. Ragar's heart pounded in his ears, each beat a painful reminder of how close he was to capture. He held his breath, praying that they wouldn't notice the small crack in the wall, that they would run past him and continue their pursuit elsewhere.

"Where'd he go?" one of the guards snarled, his voice full of frustration.

"Damn it, he's just a kid!" another spat, clearly annoyed that they hadn't caught him yet. "He can't have gotten far."

Ragar heard the heavy clanking of armor as one of the guards came to a stop just outside the gap. He could see the man's shadow through the thin crack in the wall, a dark silhouette against the fading light. For a terrifying moment, Ragar thought the guard might turn and look right at him, that he would see the sliver of space where Ragar was hiding.

But then the shadow moved away, the guard following the others down the alley. Ragar didn't dare move, not until he was sure they were gone. He could still hear their voices, growing fainter as they continued down the street, searching for him in the wrong direction.

When the sound of their footsteps finally faded into the distance, Ragar allowed himself to breathe again. He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to calm his racing heart. His body was shaking with adrenaline, and his legs felt like they might give out at any second.