Chapter 4: A fateful encounter

By the time he was nearing his ninth cycle around Veridia Prime's sun, the relentless struggle for survival in Corvus Prime had begun to take its toll on Aureon's small frame. The constant hunger gnawed at his insides, leaving him perpetually weak and lightheaded. A persistent cough rattled his chest, a souvenir from a particularly damp and cold cycle spent huddled in a derelict transport container. He had learned to be quick and wary, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings for both opportunity and danger, but even the most hardened street urchin had days when their defenses were low. This was one of those days for Aureon.

He had been trying to earn a few credits by running errands in the bustling marketplace near the central transport hub, his small size allowing him to weave through the throngs of people with relative ease. But a sudden wave of dizziness had struck him, forcing him to stumble and drop a fragile package he was carrying. The merchant, a burly being with a gruff demeanor, had not only refused to pay him but had also chased him away with threats, leaving Aureon feeling even more defeated and unwell.

Weak and shivering, he had retreated into a narrow, dimly lit alleyway, hoping to find a moment of respite out of the relentless flow of the city. The alley was choked with discarded waste and the air hung heavy with the stench of decay, but it offered a semblance of privacy. He sank down against the cold plasteel wall, his head swimming, the cough wracking his body. He felt utterly alone, the familiar ache of abandonment compounded by the misery of his physical state.

Meanwhile, several hundred kilometers away in the sprawling spaceport city of Port Veritas, seven-year-old Elleaner was also enduring a particularly difficult cycle. The novelty of the bustling spaceport, which had initially held a strange sort of fascination, had long since worn off, replaced by a gnawing weariness. The small kindnesses she had occasionally received were becoming less frequent, and the competition for scraps of food and safe places to sleep was growing fiercer. The damp sea air of Port Veritas seemed to cling to her, and a persistent ache had settled in her throat, making swallowing difficult.

She had spent the morning fruitlessly trying to beg for a few credits near one of the main passenger terminals, her small voice often lost in the clamor of departing and arriving ships. The weariness was etched on her face, making her look even younger and more vulnerable, which unfortunately sometimes attracted the wrong kind of attention. She had learned to be wary of certain individuals, their emotions radiating a darkness that her nascent tele-empathy instinctively recoiled from.

Feeling increasingly unwell and disheartened by her lack of success, Elleaner had sought refuge in a quiet alleyway behind a row of bustling cargo loading bays. The alley was shadowed and offered a brief respite from the crowds. She huddled against a stack of dented transport crates, her small body trembling with a chill that seemed to come from deep within. The ache in her throat had worsened, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt utterly alone, the vastness of the spaceport amplifying her isolation.

It was here, in the shadowed confines of this forgotten alleyway in Port Veritas, that their paths converged. Aureon, having somehow made his way from Corvus Prime to Port Veritas – a journey likely undertaken through a desperate act of stowing away on a cargo transport, driven by an instinct to find a place where survival might be marginally easier – stumbled into the alleyway seeking a quiet place to rest. He was weak and disoriented, his vision slightly blurred by fever.

He noticed the small figure huddled against the crates almost immediately. At first, he was wary, his instincts honed by years on the streets telling him to avoid contact. But as he drew closer, he saw the girl's frail form, the way she clutched her arms around herself as if trying to contain her own misery. There was a vulnerability about her that resonated with his own current state.

Elleaner, startled by the sound of approaching footsteps, looked up, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and exhaustion. She saw a slightly older boy, thin and pale, his face smudged with grime, his eyes holding a weariness that mirrored her own. He looked as sick and lost as she felt.

A moment of tense silence hung between them, each assessing the other with the cautious gaze of seasoned survivors. Then, Elleaner, despite her own discomfort, noticed the way the boy was shivering, the ragged cough that escaped his lips. A flicker of the innate empathy her parents had nurtured within her stirred. Reaching into the small bag she still carried, a remnant of her former life, she pulled out a partially eaten nutrient bar – a meager treasure she had been saving for later.

Hesitantly, she offered it to Aureon, her small hand outstretched. "Here," she whispered, her voice raspy from her sore throat. "You look… like you need it more."

Aureon stared at the offering, his wariness battling with the overwhelming pangs of hunger. He hadn't expected kindness, not without a price. He hesitated for a moment, then, his stomach growling loudly, he reached out and took the nutrient bar, his fingers brushing against hers.

He broke off a small piece and offered it back to her. Elleaner shook her head gently. "You take it. I… I had a little earlier." It wasn't entirely true, but the act of offering comfort seemed to ease some of her own discomfort.

They sat in silence for a while, Aureon slowly eating the nutrient bar, the simple act of nourishment providing a small spark of warmth. Elleaner watched him, her tele-empathy picking up faint echoes of his relief and a deep-seated loneliness that resonated with her own.

When he had finished, Aureon looked at Elleaner, a flicker of gratitude in his tired eyes. "Thank you," he mumbled, his voice hoarse. "I'm… Aureon."

"Elleaner," she replied softly, her voice barely a whisper.

Another silence fell between them, but this time it felt different, less wary, more like a shared understanding. They were two small, lost souls who had found each other in the vast indifference of the city.

After a while, Aureon spoke again, his voice a little stronger this time. "Where… where do you stay?"

Elleaner shrugged, her eyes downcast. "Nowhere, really. Just… here and there."

Aureon nodded, a familiar understanding dawning in his eyes. He knew that answer well. He looked at the girl, so small and vulnerable, and a strange sense of protectiveness stirred within him, a feeling he hadn't experienced before. He thought back to his promise, the silent vow he carried.

"Maybe… maybe we could stay together?" he offered hesitantly. "It's… it's better than being alone, right?"

Elleaner looked up at him, her blue eyes, though clouded with sickness and exhaustion, held a glimmer of hope. A small, almost imperceptible nod was her answer. In that shared alleyway, amidst the grime and the shadows, two abandoned children, drawn together by shared hardship and a simple act of kindness, forged a bond that would become the cornerstone of their survival, a fragile promise whispered against the cold indifference of the world: they would never abandon each other.