Paladin
Noah sat frozen, clutching the tablet like it was the most valuable thing in the world. His fingers traced its edges as if afraid it would disappear.
Sarah, who had been halfway to her room, stopped and turned back, raising an eyebrow. "You know you can draw later, right? It's past midnight now."
Noah blinked. "Wait, what…?"
He grabbed his phone and checked the time—12:43 AM. His eyes widened.
Sarah smirked. "Yeah. Time moves forward. Crazy, right?" She shook her head. "Get some sleep, art boy."
Before Noah could respond, she disappeared into her room. He sighed and finally set the tablet down, forcing himself into bed.
---
Sarah woke up around 9 AM, stretching as she yawned. She lazily went through her morning routine—brushing her teeth, washing her face, and changing into something comfortable. When she finally made her way downstairs, she paused at the sight before her.
Noah was sitting at the dining table, hunched over his new tablet, completely engrossed in his drawing.
Sarah walked over, peeking at the screen. "So, you finally found something to draw, huh?"
Noah barely looked up. "Yeah… thanks for the tablet."
Sarah waved a hand. "No worries."
She took a closer look at the digital canvas. The artwork was detailed, capturing a moment that felt almost sacred.
A paladin stood at the center of a grand temple, his body bowed low in devotion. He was tall and lean, with wavy blonde hair that cascaded past his shoulders, a few strands messily falling over his scarred face. His armor gleamed—a mixture of silver and gold, with intricate engravings of ancient symbols running along the chest plate and gauntlets. A deep blue cape flowed from his shoulders, tattered at the ends, showing the wear of battle.
Around him, priests and monks knelt in prayer, their hands clasped together, eyes closed in deep concentration. Their robes, white and gold, shimmered under the soft candlelight that flickered around the temple. Massive stone pillars rose toward the sky, adorned with carved murals depicting divine warriors and celestial beings. Rays of light streamed through stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the polished marble floor.
Above the paladin, a grand statue of a god loomed, bathed in golden light. The god's eyes were closed, his hands stretched outward as if offering both judgment and salvation. Beneath him, the paladin knelt in quiet reverence, his sword placed on the ground before him—a symbol of humility and faith.
Sarah whistled. "Damn. That's sick."
Noah flushed slightly. "Uh… thanks. Still adding details."
Sarah folded her arms. "When did you wake up?"
Noah shrugged. "Early. I, uh… couldn't really sleep last night."
Sarah nodded knowingly. "Yeah, that happens when your brain refuses to shut up."
Noah chuckled weakly.
Sarah suddenly squinted at him. "Wait. Have you brushed your teeth?"
Noah stiffened. "Uh… no. I, uh, don't have a brush."
Sarah sighed. "Alright. Let me give you some money—go buy one. There's a convenience store down the alleyway."
Noah held up his hands. "Eh—ugh—no, it's fine. I don't need—"
Sarah cut him off. "I insist. Also, grab some breakfast while you're there—bread and jam."
Noah hesitated. "Uh… okay."
Sarah left for her room and returned a moment later with some cash. She handed it to Noah, who awkwardly took it.
"Now go," she said, shooing him toward the door.
Noah sighed and stepped outside.
---
Noah squinted at the alleyway in daylight. Last night, it had been nothing but shadows and vague outlines, but now he could actually see the surroundings. The alley wasn't very wide, flanked by old brick buildings with faded signs and laundry hanging from balconies. A few stray cats roamed around, and the air smelled like cigarettes and cheap alcohol.
He spotted a group of teenagers—around 15 years old—huddled near a wall, smoking. Their clothes were messy, their eyes sharp. They didn't look friendly.
One of them, a skinny kid with a busted lip, noticed Noah and grinned. "Hey, mister. You look like an adult—can you buy us some more cigarettes?"
Noah tensed. "How… how old are you?"
The kid shrugged. "Does it matter, mister?"
Noah swallowed. "Uh… no… no."
Before he could step away, another kid—taller, rougher-looking—suddenly grabbed his arm.
"Come on, man, just buy us some," the guy said, his grip tightening.
Noah instinctively pulled back, shoving the guy off him.
The teen stumbled slightly, then glared. "The fuck, mister? We were nice to you, and this is how you treat us? All we wanted was a pack of smokes." He cracked his knuckles. "You wanna fight us?"
Noah stiffened, panic settling in. There were five of them. Even if he could fight one, the others would jump in.
Another kid snickered. "Dude, leave him. He looks like he's about to piss himself."
The others burst into laughter.
Noah clenched his jaw, feeling humiliated. But he wasn't an idiot—getting into a fight here was not worth it. He swallowed his pride and walked past them, heading into the store.
Inside, he quickly grabbed a toothbrush, bread, and jam. He paid and hurried back to Sarah's house without looking back at the gang.
---
Sarah was waiting in the kitchen when Noah returned. "You got the stuff?"
Noah nodded and placed the bag on the counter. "Yeah…"
Sarah took out the bread and jam. "Cool. I'll prepare breakfast. Go brush your teeth."
Noah grabbed his toothbrush and left for the bathroom.
---
After breakfast, Noah returned to the guest room and continued working on his paladin drawing. He focused on refining the details:
- The Armor: He added battle damage, small dents and scratches on the metal, making it look worn and real. The chest plate had a lion emblem, signifying the paladin's allegiance to a divine order.
- The Sword: A long, double-edged blade, resting before the paladin in submission. The hilt was wrapped in aged leather, and a small engraving near the base read: For the light.
- The Temple's Atmosphere: He adjusted the lighting, making the golden rays filtering through the stained-glass windows appear more heavenly, casting a warm glow over the priests and the paladin.
- The Scarred Face: He refined the paladin's expressions, adding subtle shadows under his tired eyes—signs of a warrior who had fought too many battles, yet remained faithful.
Noah didn't realize how much time had passed. He was lost in the process.
---
Henry sat in his house, his phone pressed to his ear.
Luke answered. "Yeah?"
Henry's voice was sharp. "Let's go. Now."
Luke sounded annoyed. "Now?"
"Yeah," Henry said. "Now's the perfect timing. My dad's away, and my mom… I don't really care about her."
Luke exhaled through his nose. "Aight."
"Gather the boys," Henry ordered. "Meet me at the park in 40 minutes."
"Got it, boss," Luke muttered before hanging up.
From Luke's perspective, he threw his phone onto the bed, his expression sour.
"Motherfucker thinks he can order me around like I'm his fucking servant," he muttered.
Beside him, a girl stirred, her bare shoulder peeking from the blanket. "Who was that, babe?"
Luke smirked. "You don't need to know."
She pouted. "Where are you going?"
Luke cracked his neck. "To kill a fucker. You wanna come?"
The girl grinned. "Hell yeah. I'd love to see you fight."
Luke stood up. "Then put some clothes on first."
She chuckled, pulling on her shirt.
The storm was coming