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Blood Pawn
0033 : A Debt of Thanks

0033 : A Debt of Thanks

The game winds down, laughter and chatter filling the garden as the children divide their candies. Some sit in small groups, savoring their spoils, while others already plan another round for tomorrow.

I stand at the center, my gaze sweeping over the group. These children—so raw, so untamed—don't realize it yet, but they're pieces on a much larger board.

It's time to solidify their focus, to give them something—or someone—to rally around.

"Guys," I call out, my voice cutting through the chatter. It's not loud, but it's enough. Heads turn, eyes locking onto me. Even the observer, leaning casually against the wall, raises an eyebrow.

"I'm Orion," I say, letting my voice carry an edge of confidence. "And this… this is just the beginning. Let's play tomorrow too."

The leader boy grins, his energy as brash as ever. "I'm in! I'll beat you for sure next time."

"We'll see," I reply, smirking faintly.

The siblings exchange glances before the boy speaks up. "I'm Ethan," he says, his tone steady but carrying a hint of curiosity. "And this is my sister, Lila."

Lila looks up, her chalk-covered fingers clutching the slate she's been doodling on. She doesn't speak but gives a small wave, her eyes sharp and attentive. Ethan nudges her gently, and she smiles faintly before returning her focus to the slate.

Protective, deliberate. Their bond runs deep.

The leader boy steps forward, puffing out his chest. "Name's Oliver! But you can call me Ollie. Everyone does."

"Because you never stop talking," mutters the rebel boy, rolling his eyes.

"Hey!" Oliver protests, turning to glare at him. "You're just jealous because I'm better than you at everything."

The rebel shrugs, his expression unbothered. "I'm Callen," he says simply, his tone calm but carrying an edge. "Don't expect me to go easy on you tomorrow."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I reply, my smirk widening.

The youngest girl toddles up to me next, clutching a fistful of candy in her tiny hands. "I'm Mina!" she chirps, her wide eyes shining with excitement. "Can we play now? I wanna play now!"

"Tomorrow," I say gently, crouching down to her level. "Save your energy."

She pouts for a moment before nodding vigorously. "Okay, but I'm gonna win next time!"

Stubborn, determined. She'll be fun to watch.

The group laughs, their energy contagious, but one figure remains silent. The boy at the back of the garden, who has been watching everything with those sharp, calculating eyes.

"And you?" I ask, my gaze locking onto him.

He doesn't respond immediately, but after a moment, he pushes off the wall and steps forward. His movements are deliberate, his posture relaxed but confident.

"Liam," he says simply, his voice calm.

I nod. "Good to meet you, Liam."

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The introductions end, and the children slowly drift away, some heading back to the church, others lingering to chat. I wait until the garden clears before approaching Liam.

He's leaning against the wall again, arms crossed, his gaze steady. He doesn't look surprised when I walk up to him.

"You're different," I say, stopping a few paces away.

He raises an eyebrow. "You said that already."

"And I meant it," I reply. "The way you watch, the way you move. You don't play the same game as the others."

He tilts his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Neither do you."

I smirk, stepping closer. "Fair enough. So, what's your story?"

He tilts his head, his gaze flicking past me for a moment, toward the church. "You really want to know?"

"I don't waste time asking questions I don't want answers to," I reply evenly.

Liam studies me for a moment, as if deciding whether I'm worth the effort. Finally, he shrugs, his voice steady but laced with bitterness.

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"I wasn't born here," he begins. "I'm from a town farther north. My parents were merchants—not wealthy, but enough to keep us fed. Until one day, they weren't."

He pauses, his jaw tightening. I don't interrupt.

"We were traveling between towns. Just another trade route. But the roads aren't safe—bandits made sure of that." His voice lowers, sharp and cold. "They came at night. Took everything. My parents tried to fight back, but... you can guess how that ended."

I nod slightly, letting him continue.

His tone is cold, matter-of-fact, but the weight behind his words is unmistakable.

"I hid. Under the wagon. I heard everything—the shouting, the begging, the silence after. They didn't even bother looking for me. A kid wasn't worth their time."

He slowly clenches his fist. "By the time the guards found me the next morning, I was alone. They brought me here, to this village, to the church. And now... this is where I've been ever since."

He exhales slowly, his fists clenching. "They brought me here, to this church, like it was some kind of mercy. But I learned that night: no one's coming to save you. If you want to survive, you do it yourself."

I nod slightly, letting his words sink in. "That's why you watch. You're always looking for threats, for weaknesses."

He nods slightly. "You have to. If you don't, you end up like my parents—blind to what's coming until it's too late."

"Remember," he says, his tone unwavering. "People show you who they are if you pay attention. Most don't even realize it."

"You're sharp," I say, meeting his gaze. "That's rare."

He tilts his head, studying me again. "And what about you, Orion? What do you see?"

I step closer, lowering my voice. "I see potential. I see a world that's waiting to be shaped, moulded. But to do that, I need people who understand—people like you."

Liam narrows his eyes, intrigued but cautious. "What are you saying?"

"I'm building something," I reply. "Something bigger than this village, bigger than these walls. And I need people like you—people who understand how the world really works."

A faint smirk crosses his lips. "What makes you think I'd join you?"

"I'm saying we could help each other," I reply. "Stick with me, and I'll show you how to stop just surviving and start ruling."

There's a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, ambition, maybe even a hint of trust. He doesn't respond immediately, but I can see the wheels turning in his mind.

"Think about it," I say, stepping back. "You've seen enough of this world to know it doesn't reward the weak. But together... we can make it ours."

Liam watches me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I'll think about it."

"Good," I reply, turning toward the path back to the church. "I'll see you tomorrow, Liam."

As I walk away, I don't need to look back to know he's still watching me. The seeds have been planted, and now it's only a matter of time.

The church doors creak open, and Sister steps out, her kind eyes scanning the garden. "Children!" she calls, her voice light and warm. "Father has returned, and he's brought treats. Come inside!"

The children perk up immediately. "Treats?!" Oliver shouts, already running toward the church. Mina toddles after him, her excitement bubbling over in a squeal. Ethan gently nudges Lila, signing something quick, and she smiles, clutching her slate as they head inside together.

Even Callen seems interested, though he tries to hide it, shoving his hands into his pockets as he strolls toward the doors. Liam, as expected, lingers at the back, taking his time.

I follow them, keeping a steady pace. The air inside the church is cool and faintly scented with incense. The sunlight streams through the stained-glass windows, painting the stone floor with soft, colorful hues.

The children gather around the altar, where Father Eldric stands with a warm smile. A tray of small bread rolls and sweets sits on the table in front of him, and the kids crowd eagerly around it.

When his gaze shifts, he notices me. His eyes narrow slightly in recognition, and his smile falters for just a moment before it returns.

I approach him, weaving through the children as they chatter and laugh, each one eager to grab a treat. When I reach the front, I wait until his attention shifts fully to me.

"Father," I begin, my tone steady but respectful. "Thank you. For saving me."

His brows lift slightly, and he studies me for a moment before nodding. "Ah, you're Anara's son, aren't you? Orion, yes?"

"Yes," I reply, reaching into my cloak and pulling out the small envelope. "My mother asked me to give you this."

He takes the envelope, his fingers brushing over the seal before slipping it into his pocket. "Thank you, Orion. Your mother is a remarkable woman."

I nod, stepping back slightly. "I'll take my leave now, Father."

His eyes linger on me for a moment, as if he's trying to read something deeper, but he simply nods. "Go safely, child."

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The walk home is quiet, the evening air cool against my face. The candies in my pocket jostle softly with each step, a small reminder of the reason I've been delayed.

When I push open the door to the house, I don't even have a chance to step inside fully before a voice greets me.

"You're late!"

Elara stands in the middle of the room, her small hands on her hips, her face scrunched in a mix of worry and frustration. She's dressed in her usual patchwork dress, her hair slightly mussed from whatever she's been doing while waiting for me.

I blink, surprised by her sudden scolding, but before she can continue, I reach into my pocket and pull out the candies I saved.

"Sorry," I say, holding them out to her with a small smile. "It took me some time to find these."

Her eyes widen instantly, the frustration melting away as she stares at the candies. "For me?" she asks, her voice softening.

I nod. "For you."

Her face lights up, and she darts forward, throwing her arms around me in a quick hug. "Thank you!" she squeals, pulling back just enough to grab one of the candies from my hand.

She unwraps it immediately, popping it into her mouth with a look of pure delight. "It's so good!" she says around the candy, her voice muffled.

I chuckle, tucking the other candy back into my pocket. "I'm glad you like it."

Elara grabs my hand, her small fingers gripping tightly. "Come on! Playtime now!"

I glance down at her, amused by her sudden shift in energy. "Playtime? You're not even going to let me rest first?"

"Nope!" she says with a grin, dragging me toward the door. "You made me wait, so now you have to play extra!"

I sigh dramatically but let her lead me outside. "Fine, but you're not going to win, you know."

She glances back at me, sticking her tongue out playfully. "We'll see about that!"

Her laughter fills the air as she pulls me into the fading light of the evening, her earlier frustration forgotten entirely.