The first thing that drove you mad in Tharym was the relentless noise. From the earliest hours of morning to the latest moments of the night, sounds reverberating from every corner of the port amplified the city’s frenetic energy.

The city, with a history spanning thousands of years, owed its prosperity and longevity to its strategic position. Built along the Tharym River, it was the only gateway out of the Last Barrier, a massive mountain chain encircling the settlement like a natural fortress, leaving just a single pass carved by the river’s waters to the ocean. This rugged landscape served as a shield against the fierce winds, protecting the ships that docked daily, bringing goods and stories from distant lands.

The docks were the most chaotic and grimy parts of the city. Always teeming with sailors returning from long voyages, it had become the place where they squandered their earnings, often in shady taverns or on fleeting pleasures. That evening, everything seemed worse than usual. A ship, arriving too quickly, hadn’t slowed down in time and had crashed against the shore rocks, breaking its hold and spilling tons of marinated fish into the water. The pungent smell spread everywhere, and the river had turned into a foul canal, thanks to the recent disaster.

A young boy wove his way through the crowded docks, a calm gaze and a brisk pace carrying him forward. He headed toward the damaged ship, carrying a large net with metal frames and heavy handles. Once, these massive tools had been beyond his strength, but now he wielded them with an ease acquired over years of hard work. The sun was setting, and time was becoming an enemy, especially since he knew that cleaning the river would occupy his entire night. But he didn’t complain—work gave him an escape. As long as he stayed busy, his mind remained at peace.

He passed by groups of colorful passersby and even a few nobles, who were easy to recognize by their sumptuous clothes and air of superiority. In Tharym, the nobles held the power to determine a person’s fate with a mere glance, but Ayun didn’t care. He’d quickly learned that a humble demeanor spared him trouble. As long as he kept his eyes down and stayed out of their way, he was invisible to them.

“Ayun?!”

The voice stopped him abruptly, and his hands clenched around the net’s handle. If not for the unmistakable tone of a noble, he would have continued on, undeterred. Slowly, he turned, his gaze landing on an enormous figure with distinctly bizarre features. The man was massive, though his body was not made solely of muscle; thick layers of fat hung heavily from his bluish arms. His elongated face was dominated by a single central eye, surrounded by twisted horns that curled down toward his bovine nose.

“Ayun!” the noble repeated, grinning widely. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the Tower?”

The man’s familiar tone stirred nothing in Ayun. Figures like this one often drifted into his life, claiming to know him, but to Ayun, they were just shadows from a distant past, a past he’d worked hard to leave buried.

“I’m working,” he replied politely.

All he wanted was to start his task and clean the river as quickly as possible, but the man before him seemed determined not to let him go easily.

“You can’t stay in this filth! I’ll get you out of here!” exclaimed the noble, drawing the attention of passersby.

Attention Ayun didn’t need. He felt the discomfort of the gazes fixed on him.

“This is where I live... for now,” he replied, putting on a forced smile. “Thank you, but I’m managing.”

He tried to move away, but the other’s thick fingers clamped down on his shoulder. Ayun turned calmly, though he felt tension building within him.

“It’s impossible for someone like you to be a servant in this wretched city!” the noble declared with feigned pity that disgusted Ayun. He knew exactly what the fat man was after.

“I have orders to stay here, for the good of... everyone—including myself,” the youngest replied, keeping his calm.

The man persisted, speaking as though he were boy’s savior. But Ayun narrowed his gaze in a subtle warning.

“I obey Hrassin because I choose to,” he said quietly but firmly. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to help me. Others have tried... and didn’t end up in pleasant circumstances.”

His words were misinterpreted, with the other man taking him for a victim.

“There’s no need to fear Hrassin!” the noble proclaimed proudly. “I’ll make sure—”

“Oh, but who said anything would reach Hrassin’s ears?” Ayun interjected, his voice laced with a well-masked threat.

The noble froze, his central eye trembling as he suddenly grasped the danger. He pulled his hand away from boy’s shoulder, and Ayun didn’t wait for a response, quickly distancing himself.

It had been foolish to react that way, but he was done with being looked at like a dog begging for a scrap of bread. He knew all too well why they were so interested in someone like him. All he wanted was to be left alone! All these fools thought they were doing him a favor without understanding the risks they were courting. To him, Tharym was the only protection he had left.

Finally reaching the damaged ship, Ayun looked on in disgust as the marinated fish had drifted downstream, a strong odor of decay hanging heavily in the air. The waters were covered with layers of scales and rotting flesh, and the river now reflected the moon in a somber, eerie way. The young boy leaned forward, momentarily captivated by the pale reflection of the nocturnal orb.

He wore a rough, brown vest over his bare chest, and his black pants were stained with mud and dampness. He gave little thought to his clothes or appearance. His long, red hair fell messily over his shoulders, loosely tied in a simple knot. Though his face still bore the softness of youth, it hinted at a far more complex presence. Two pointed, fox-like ears covered in reddish fur peeked out from beneath his unruly hair, gently stirred by the wind and giving him a wild, untamed look. A long, bushy tail of the same red hue, tipped in white, swayed behind him, the light playing over the dense fur.

Around his neck hung a small, gray pouch tied with a thin cord, the only item he held dear. His green eyes, sharp and intelligent, shone with an ancient gleam, full of mystery and utterly devoid of any trace of humanity.

Lost in his own thoughts, Ayun didn’t notice the group approaching until their laughter scratched at his ears. He stood up abruptly, glancing around. He was surrounded by four young men, all around his age. Three of them had greenish scales covering their skin, while the fourth was entirely covered in black fur, his elongated head resembling a snout.

“Well, look who it is—Ayun himself!” taunted the one with fur.

Their presence meant only one thing: trouble. He immediately understood that the exchange with the noble had revealed his name, and now these thugs felt emboldened to provoke him. He tried to sidestep them, but one of the reptilian figures blocked his way.

“What are you doing around here? This isn’t a place for Tower scum!”

Ayun tensed slightly. His cleaning net was still on the ground, and he needed to grab it and get far away from this group. He had no desire to get involved in a conflict with them.

“Heard you don’t like water,” one of the scaled boys chimed in. “Think you can swim?”

Just as Ayun bent down to pick up his net, the one with black fur landed a blow to his ribs, sending him over the edge of the dock. In an instant, the cold water swallowed him, stealing his breath and wrapping him in darkness. The river was deep, even close to the shore, and the pitch-black water enclosed him on all sides.

The young men above laughed loudly, proud of their work. They believed no one cared if a dock rat disappeared. One of them even shoved the net into the water, thinking they’d finished him off. But an unexpected splash drew their attention.

Soaked to the bone, Ayun pushed himself up and leapt out of the water with surprising speed. Once on the dock, he took a single gasp of air before launching himself at the boy with black fur, tripping him and sending him sprawling. He didn’t linger, though, as the other three lunged at him. Moving with remarkable agility, Ayun evaded their attacks effortlessly. Although he could have exploited this advantage to escape, he allowed them to surround him, ready to teach them a lesson. He wasn’t looking for trouble, but a scuffle now and then didn’t bother him.

But something changed the situation completely. Ayun froze, his breathing becoming ragged. He felt as if the air itself were dwindling, his skin growing hot and prickling. It was a sensation he knew all too well, one he feared.

“Please, don’t come any closer!” he shouted, desperation cracking his voice.

Panic slipped into his soul. He saw them advancing and knew he couldn’t fight them—not in the state he was in. He took a step back, struggling to regain control over his body, but the feeling of suffocation only intensified, as if his blood were on fire.

Suddenly, the ship’s hull erupted, and a wave of rotting fish cascaded onto the four boys, bringing an unexpected end to the fight.