The Laws of the Streets

Kaelion had learned many things in his short life.

He learned that no matter how much he tried, he would never be accepted in the palace.

He learned that the warmth of a mother's arms was something he would never have.

And now, in the slums, he was learning something new.

The streets had their own rules.

Rules that had nothing to do with honor or fairness.

Here, only two things mattered—power and wit.

If you had neither, you were already dead.

The girl had wasted no time after Garrik's attack.

The very next day, she threw another challenge at him.

"If you want to survive," she said, "then prove to me that you can be useful."

Kaelion frowned. "I thought you said I needed to prove I could survive."

She smiled. "Survival is about more than just not dying."

Then, she tossed him a pouch of silver.

"Take this," she said, "and double it by nightfall."

Kaelion stared at her. "What?"

The girl leaned against the crumbling wall, arms crossed. "You heard me. Make this money grow."

Kaelion scowled. "And what if I fail?"

"Then I'll take the money back." She smirked. "And I won't give you any food for a week."

Kaelion clenched his fists.

A week without food.

He had already gone days with barely anything in his stomach.

He couldn't fail.

Kaelion knew there was only one way to make money fast in this city.

Gambling.

It was risky—too risky.

But he had no other choice.

He made his way to one of the back alleys where men gathered around makeshift tables, rolling dice and exchanging coins.

He watched for a while, memorizing the patterns, the way people bet, the tricks they used.

Then, he stepped forward.

"I want to play," he said.

Laughter.

A few sneers.

But one man waved him over. "You got silver, brat?"

Kaelion tossed the pouch onto the table. "I do."

The men exchanged looks.

The game began.

Kaelion played cautiously at first, watching the others, learning how they moved.

Then, he started betting strategically.

He didn't bet everything at once.

He pretended to lose a few rounds on purpose, letting them believe he was just another foolish boy with no idea what he was doing.

Then, when they got comfortable—when they thought he was an easy target—he started winning.

One silver turned into two.

Two into four.

The more he won, the more frustrated the others became.

The more frustrated they became, the sloppier they played.

By nightfall, he had tripled the money.

He was about to leave when one of the men slammed a knife into the table.

"You're cheating," the man growled.

Kaelion froze.

"I don't cheat," he said evenly.

The man grinned, but there was no humor in it. "Then you won't mind playing one last round."

Kaelion's mind raced.

He could tell.

This wasn't about the money anymore.

These men didn't like losing.

They especially didn't like losing to a child.

And now, they wanted to teach him a lesson.

Kaelion glanced at the coins.

Then, he looked at the man.

And he made his decision.

Kaelion smirked.

"I'll play," he said. "But only if we raise the stakes."

The men frowned. "What stakes?"

Kaelion leaned forward, lowering his voice.

"If I win," he said, "I take all the money on this table."

The men chuckled darkly. "And if you lose?"

Kaelion met the man's eyes.

"You get my hands."

Silence.

Then, laughter.

"Your hands, huh?" The man grinned. "You've got guts, kid. Alright, let's play."

The game started.

Kaelion stayed calm.

He watched every move, every twitch, every breath.

And then, at the perfect moment, he made his final bet.

The dice rolled.

The men leaned forward.

And Kaelion won.

The laughter stopped.

The air went cold.

Kaelion slowly reached for the money.

No one moved.

For a moment, it seemed like they would actually let him leave.

Then, someone grabbed his wrist.

"You think it's that easy?" the man growled.

Kaelion didn't flinch.

He had expected this.

And that's why he had planned ahead.

Before coming here, he had made sure to sit near the entrance.

Near the street.

Near a place where someone would notice.

Now, he raised his voice.

"Are you robbing me?" he said loudly.

Heads turned.

A few of the nearby gamblers glanced over.

Some of them had already lost money today.

Some of them didn't like the men at this table either.

Kaelion saw it in their eyes—the calculation, the way they measured whether it was worth getting involved.

The man who held his wrist hesitated.

Kaelion took advantage of that hesitation.

With a quick movement, he twisted his arm free and grabbed the money.

Then, he ran.

When Kaelion returned to the girl, she was already waiting.

He dropped the coins in front of her.

"Tripled it," he said.

She looked at the money, then at him.

And for the first time, she smiled.

"Not bad," she said. "Not bad at all."

Kaelion exhaled, letting the tension drain from his body.

He had done it.

He had survived another day.

And more importantly—he had learned something.

In this city, strength wasn't just about fists or blades.

It was about knowing when to fight.

And more importantly... when to play the game.