Book 1: Chapter 1 – Hunting Rabbits

Jabari jolted awake, his breath hitching as if he'd been yanked from drowning waters. His bony fingers instinctively shot to his throat, feeling the unnatural thinness beneath his grip, while his left hand clutched his ribs as if bracing against an invisible knife. A cold sweat clung to his skin, his chest rising and falling in erratic bursts.

Strangely, his hands had landed in exactly the same spots where the red-haired mage had been stabbed in his dream.

"That same damn nightmare – every goddamn night," he muttered, frustration seeping into his voice as he let his head fall back onto the narrow bed of roughly stitched-together animal pelts. His scowl deepened. "And why are the faces of the other two always so blurry?!"

The wooden ceiling of the corridor-turned-bedroom loomed above him, warped planks offering no answers.

Jabari exhaled sharply, forcing himself to replay the nightmare over and over, trying to make sense of the pieces that never quite fit. Sleep, however, was an elusive thing. No matter how much he willed himself to drift off, his mind remained a prisoner to the haunting visions, exhaustion clawing at the edges of his thoughts.

It wasn't just the dream itself – it was the way he experienced it. Though he was a fifteen-year-old boy with espresso-brown skin, each time, he relived the moment through the eyes of a crimson-haired, pale-skinned mage. He felt the stabbing pain as if he were the one being run through, heard the dying thoughts of the burly man gasping his last breath. And worse still, the one who delivered the fatal blow – the boy who killed 'him' – looked eerily like Jabari himself.

Except that boy wasn't malnourished. That boy didn't have the deep shadows of sleepless nights sunken beneath his eyes.

Jabari had no idea how long he lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, his thoughts tangled in a web of exhaustion and unease. Eventually, sleep crept upon him, a fleeting mercy – only to be violently stolen away moments later.

The nightmare struck like a viper, sinking its venomous fangs into his mind, wrenching him back into consciousness with a gasp. His body trembled, slick with sweat, yet his heartbeat with a strange, detached familiarity. This was nothing new. This was his reality.

What puzzled him, however, was the strange rhythm of it all. The nightmare itself was vivid, almost too real – the searing agony, the mage's torment, the slow, suffocating collapse into darkness. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, he only ever truly awoke after the second cycle. He could endure the first, barely clinging to the edge of sleep, forced to relive the suffering but never quite breaking free. And in between, fifteen precious minutes of respite – an oasis of silence before the torment began anew.

It was a pitiful existence. No fifteen-year-old should have to live this way. At best, he scraped together a few fractured hours of rest each night, his body constantly teetering on the brink of exhaustion.

Yet, this was all he had ever known. He never questioned it, never pitied himself. He simply endured.

And so, the night wore on, an endless cycle of drifting off, dying in his dream, clawing for a moment of peace, and dying again – until, at last, the first slivers of dawn pierced through the warped cracks of his so-called home, chasing away the horrors of the dark.

With a groggy groan, he dragged a hand down his face, rubbing the heavy bags beneath his eyes before rolling out of bed. He gathered up his bedding, folding it into a neat bundle and tucking it into the corner of the corridor.

As he pulled on his tattered trousers and slid his feet into his worn sandals, a door creaked open behind him.

"Go back to bed," he murmured without turning around.

"But-"

"Bed!" His voice brooked no argument.

A small huff sounded from the doorway, followed by an indignant pout. "Fine! But you have to say goodbye before you go this time!"

Jabari sighed, the corners of his lips twitching at her stubbornness. "How could I ever leave without saying goodbye to my favourite little sister?" He finally turned to meet her wide, brown eyes.

Even as he smiled, his heart clenched painfully. Inayah – his precious little sister – looked far too small for a ten-year-old. Draped in a yellow dress that hung off her frail frame, she gripped the doorframe for support, her thin arms trembling from the effort of merely standing.

"Let's get you back to bed," he said gently, sweeping her into his arms with ease. She weighed almost nothing, lighter than the bedding he had just stashed away.

He carried her over to her own sleeping spot, a makeshift mattress of layered animal pelts – more than his, but still far from comfortable. Her long, unruly curls fell over her face, partially obscuring the weariness in her eyes.

Jabari hated it. Hated that he had no way to make things better for her.

"You don't have to look at me like that," Inayah whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "You know I always feel weaker in the mornings."

Jabari exhaled through his nose, crouching beside her. "Then be good and rest until you're feeling stronger," he chided, though there was no real bite to his words.

Inayah, stubborn as ever, lifted her chin. "I had to make sure you said goodbye to me before you left this time!" She crossed her arms – or at least, she tried. The effect was somewhat diminished by how small she was, making her look more endearing than intimidating.

Jabari couldn't help but chuckle. "If you're talking about yesterday, I did say goodbye. You were just too busy sleeping to notice."

"If I was sleeping, then it doesn't count. You have to wake me up to say goodbye!"

"I'm not waking you up just for that," he countered. "You'll see me when I get back."

"Then I'll just keep getting out of bed to find you!" she shot back, her little nose scrunching in determination.

Jabari sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew this battle was lost before it even started. As stubborn as he was, Inayah could be just as bad – if not worse. And he understood why she was like this. She was scared. Scared that if she didn't say goodbye, it might be the last time they ever saw each other.

"Fine, you win," he relented, shaking his head. "I promise I'll wake you up to say goodbye if you're sleeping. Happy?"

A triumphant grin spread across Inayah's face, her full lips curving in victory. "Yup!"

"Good. Now get some rest," he said, rolling his eyes dramatically before being interrupted by a knock at the door.

Jabari cast one last look at his sister. "Be good for Luna. I'll be back later."

Inayah hesitated, then whispered, "Jari...

Be careful, okay?"

For her sake, he forced a confident grin, flashing it like a shield. "I always am."

Jabari made his way toward the front door, moving with the careful deliberation of someone well-accustomed to caution.

Before stepping outside, he crouched low and swept aside the scattered twigs he'd placed there the night before – a crude but effective alarm system. Satisfied, he pulled open the door.

"Thanks again for looking after Inayah," he said as he stepped aside to let a skinny mixed-race girl enter.

Luna, despite her own malnourished state, had the kind of smile that made others want to smile too. There was something warm about it, infectious even. The morning sun caught the light in her reddish-brown eyes, making them glow like polished amber. "It's the least I can do," she replied.

Jabari grinned. "You mean because I saved you and became the hero to your damsel in distress?"

"Get lost!" Luna shot back, laughing as she aimed a half-hearted kick at his shin.

Jabari dodged effortlessly, stepping just out of reach with a chuckle, his agility surprising for someone so underfed. Luna rolled her russet-coloured eyes, but the smile lingering on her lips betrayed her amusement.

Just as he turned to leave, her voice followed him – soft, yet firm. "Be careful."

Jabari smirked. "Worried about your hero?"

"Must you make a joke about everything?" she sighed, exasperation laced in her tone.

He shrugged, flashing his usual carefree grin. "Life in the slums is too dull without a joke or two."

"Just be careful, you idiot!" This time, there was no humour in her voice, no teasing edge. Only worry.

Jabari hesitated for half a second before waving her off. "Relax, would you? I'm just hunting small animals on the edge of the forest. It's totally safe."

And with that, he was gone.

…

Hours later, a pair of sharp, bloodshot brown eyes watched from the depths of the undergrowth. Silent. Unmoving. Hidden.

Only a few meters away, two rabbits frolicked freely in the open greenery, their soft bodies bouncing playfully in the morning light. They were small – barely enough to fill a stomach – but to the patient predator concealed among the shrubs, they were a meal. And in the slums, a meal was worth far more than a feast of kings.

Jabari remained completely still, his breathing slow and measured. He knew these creatures well. Knew how absurdly alert they were, how they twitched at the slightest hint of movement. They were prey animals – constantly hunted, constantly wary, even when they played.

And Jabari? Jabari was no predator. Not really. A true hunter had the strength to outrun its prey. He did not. His body, weakened by hunger, was far too slow to match their speed.

So he waited.

For forty-five minutes, he didn't move a muscle. He simply watched, biding his time, letting them lull themselves into a fragile sense of security. The moment they lowered their heads to graze-

He struck.

In an instant, Jabari was moving, cutting through the air like an arrow loosed from a bow. His rust-encrusted hunting knife gleamed dully in his bony grip as he lunged for the first rabbit.

It noticed too late.

The rabbit twisted mid-air, its instincts screaming at it to flee, but Jabari's blade was faster. The sharp edge slashed clean across its throat, a crimson spray marking the end of its struggle. It hit the ground with a twitching spasm, its life slipping away in seconds.

But Jabari was already moving. His attention snapped to the second rabbit, which had frozen for a heartbeat too long before turning to bolt.

He didn't hesitate. With a practiced flick of his wrist, his knife sliced through the air, a lethal blur against the greenery.

The blade found its mark.

The second rabbit barely made it a few feet before the knife buried itself deep in the back of its neck. It collapsed instantly, its body still.

Jabari let out a breath, running a hand over his face before retrieving his kills. "Thank fuck I practised knife throwing," he muttered under his breath. It made hunting a hell of a lot easier.

He bent to scoop up the second rabbit-

Crunch.

The faint rustle of leaves. Footsteps.

Jabari didn't pause to think. He didn't turn to see who – or what – was coming.

He simply ran!