The city of Astralis was a kingdom of dual realities—its upper levels gleamed with gold, marble towers, and noble courts, while the lower quarters drowned in grime, the air heavy with the scent of despair and decay.

Leon Ashford grew up in the shadow of those towers. As a young boy, he roamed the narrow alleys, surviving on scraps and his quick reflexes. His dreams of greatness were not born of arrogance but necessity. To escape the lower quarter, he needed to rise above the mud, not just for himself, but for those he cared about.

On this particular afternoon, Leon’s fingers were bruised from another day’s work. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the narrow streets. He had been working at the docks, hauling crates of fish for pennies, and his body ached.

"Five copper pieces," the overseer said gruffly, tossing the coins at Leon’s feet.

Leon knelt down, picking them up, forcing a smile. "Thank you, sir."

As the man turned his back, Leon's grin faded, replaced by a sigh. Five coppers wouldn’t even buy him bread for the week. He turned toward the alley that led to the slums, his stomach growling.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

It was there, just as the light began to fade, that he met **Elena**.

She was sitting on a wooden crate, her golden hair dirty and matted, but still shining in the fading sunlight. Leon had seen her around the slums before—a girl no older than him, always quiet, always watching. There was something about her that caught his eye, even if they had never spoken before.

Leon hesitated, but then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he approached. He didn’t know why he stopped, perhaps it was the way she looked at the setting sun with such calmness amidst the chaos of the streets.

“You come here often?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, almost embarrassed by the sudden interaction.

Elena glanced at him, her green eyes sharp despite her ragged appearance. "Only when the light’s good." She smiled faintly, as if amused by the question.

Leon raised an eyebrow. “What’s so special about the light?”

“It makes everything look less ugly," she said quietly, her gaze returning to the horizon. "For a moment, even this place can seem... peaceful.”

Leon followed her gaze, watching the sunlight reflect off the broken windows and crumbling walls. He had never thought about it that way, but in the dim glow, the slums did seem almost serene. It was fleeting, like a moment of beauty in a world of filth.

"I guess you’re right," he said, sitting down on the ground next to her.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun disappear. The sounds of the street—children laughing, dogs barking, the distant clatter of carts—faded into the background. Leon found the quiet comforting, a brief respite from the constant struggle.

“What’s your name?” Elena asked, her voice cutting through the stillness.

“Leon. Leon Ashford.” He glanced at her. “And you?”

“Elena. Just Elena,” she replied with a shrug.

Leon studied her for a moment. There was a toughness about her, but also a softness he hadn’t expected. Most people in the slums were hardened by the life they led, but Elena seemed to carry a calmness that was

unusual here. He wanted to know more.