Where... am I?
Feste blinked against the dim light, his body heavy, sluggish. The room was larger than the one he'd been given in the city, but it wasn't comforting. Every corner felt watched. Every shadow seemed alive.
Then a voice, calm but edged with authority, cut through the silence.
"Finally awake, are you?"
Feste pushed himself up slowly, his muscles stiff and uncooperative. His head throbbed, every beat of his pulse like a drum echoing in his ears. Across the dimly lit room, six figures stood in a loose semicircle, their silhouettes sharp against the flickering lanterns mounted on the walls.
The one who had spoken stepped forward an old man. His eyes sharp and knowing locked onto Feste like a predator sizing up prey.
"You woke up faster than expected,"
the man said, his tone almost casual, thought the undercurrent of power in his voice was impossible to ignore.
Feste gaze swept across the room, searching for an exit, but there was only a single metal door and the six people between him and it.
"Where... where I am?" his voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
The old man smiled faintly. "Somewhere safe. Safer than the streets, at least for now."
Safe
Feste's thought twisted, sharp and frantic. Benig drugged and dragged into some underground cell dosen't exactly scream safe.
"You've been causing quiet a stir" the man continued, taking another step forward.
"The guards, the whispers, the little mess you found yourself in. You've attracting attention. Dangerous attention."
One of the others figures a women with dark hair and cold, unblinking eyes, let out a quiet scoff.
"He's just a stray. Weak, blind and loud. What use is he"?
The old man didn't look at her. His gaze never left Feste.
"Everyone have a use" he said softly.
"Even if they don't see it yet"
The room stayed quiet for a bit too long, the silence stretching thin until it felt like a noose around Feste's neck. He sat rigid, his back pressed against the cold wall, forcing himself to meet the old man's piercing stare.
"You're wondering why you here," the man said finally, voice low, steady. "It's simple. You've stepped into a game you don't understand. And now, you don't get to walk away"
Feste's hands curled into fists at his sides. "I didn't ask for this," he said, his voice sharper than he intended.
A flicker of amusement crossed the old man's face.
"No one ever dose. But there you are."
One of the others a very small man with scars running across his knuckels - chuckled darkly. "Should've left him where we found him. Dead weight"
The old man ignored the comment, stepping closer until the dim light caught the hard lines of his face.
"You've fell it, haven't you?"
Feste blinked, confusion flickering across his features. "Felt... what?"
"That hum beneath your skin," the man said, his tone almost clinical now. "That pull in the air when danger is close. You don't know what it is, but it's there."
Feste hesitated, memories flashing unbidden, thath strange chill in the square, the way his skin prickeld moments before the world went dark.
What is he talking about?
"That" the man continued,
"Is Qi. A whisper of something buried deep in you, waiting to wake. You may not understand it yet, but you will. And if you want to live, You'll learn"
Feste stared at him, trying to make sense of the words.
Feste's chest tightened, a mixture of fear and disbelife colling inside him. "Work... for you?" he asked, his voice barely steady.
"You mean... I'm... supposed to do what?"
The old man's gaze didn't waver. "Survive. That's the simplest way to put it. You follow instructions, complete tasks and you live. Fail and fhe streets claim you, again."
Tasks... survive... again...m
Feste thought, the memory from the slums and of the alley like fire behind his eyelids.
So this is it, No choice. I'm caught.
A young woman with icy eyes stepped forward, hwr voice calm vut sharp. "You won't be left alone out there. The city is watching and you're... volatile. It's better this way."
Feste's hands tightened into fists. He wanted to argue, to scream, to refuse. But deep down, he knew it was true. He had no allies, no strength to fight his own and the word was larger and crueler than he'd ever imagined.
If, I want to survive, I have no choice.
"You'll be trained. Taught what you need to know. And soon, You'll understand the force within you Qi. It's not a gift or a curse. It's a tool and tools are meaningless unless you knwo how to use them."
Feste swallowed hard, his mind racing.
Qi...
tool...
use...
I must learn it. I have no other way.
The old man stepped back and said
"Kid, call me Spear."
Spear... is his name...
"You can call me Feste"
The other five members shifted silently behind him, their faces unreadable. Feste's heart pounded as he realized, that there was no escape. The city outside, the alle, even the guards, none of it mattered now. This was his reality.
I survive or I die.
Feste sank onto a rough wooden bench in the corner of the dimly lit room, letting his back press against the cold stone wall. His fingers absently traced the edges of the worn cloth covering it. The old man's words echoed relentlessly in his mind.
I can't run.
I can't hide.
I have no choice.
If i want to survive, I have tot do this. I have to learn what that pull is, whatever it means.
Outside, the city carried on unaware, its streets full of people oblivious to the threats lurking in the shadows. Feste imagined himself moving among them, a ghost, learning, observing, preparing.
Tomorrow begins something new. I'll face it. I have no other choice.
He leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. The faint ache in his ribs reminded him of the alley, of the man, of the danger that never truly went away.
I survived twice. I'll survive again. And when I do... I'll understand this world and the force inside me. I'll make mine.
A deep breath, slow and steady, and Feste opened his. The dim light of the lanterns reflected off the cold walls, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly. He didn't know what awaited him tomorrow.