A voice interrupted his thoughts. “You two look like you could use some shelter.”

Light whipped around, his body tense. Standing in the alley was a boy, about his age, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “I’ve been watching you,” he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “And I think you could use some help.”

The girl stiffened, clearly not trusting him, but Light felt a flicker of hope. Whoever this boy was, he might just be their ticket to surviving the night.

Mark stepped closer, revealing his rugged features in the faint morning light. His short, dark brown hair was slightly unkempt, with a streak of lighter brown near his temple, giving him a weathered yet confident look. His warm hazel eyes gleamed with mischief, contrasting with the solid build of his muscular frame. He wore a sleeveless dark gray jacket over a simple shirt, his fingerless gloves and heavy-duty boots making him look every bit the seasoned fighter. Around his wrist was a crimson bandana, a splash of color against his practical attire.

Mark led them through the maze of dark alleys with the confidence of someone who belonged to the shadows. The farther they moved from the bustling streets, the quieter it became. The city’s vibrant lights faded into a dull glow, replaced by broken streetlamps and the occasional flicker of a neon sign.

Riya kept her guard up, her sharp eyes scanning every corner. Despite Mark’s calm demeanor, she didn’t trust him—not yet. The bird perched on Light’s shoulder, seemingly content, though its sharp gaze followed Mark’s every move.

“Are you sure about this?” Riya whispered to Light. She adjusted his weight as she helped him walk, though her arms were trembling from the effort. “We don’t even know who this guy is.”

Light winced, his body still sore from the fight. “Do we have a choice?” he muttered, his voice low. “I can barely walk, and we’re out in the open. If those guys come back—”

“They won’t,” Mark cut in, glancing over his shoulder. “Not tonight, anyway. You gave them a reason to stay away.” He smirked, his green eyes gleaming in the dim light. “That trick you pulled? Impressive. Messy, but impressive.”

Light didn’t respond. He wasn’t even sure what he had done. The attack had surged through him like a storm, wild and uncontrollable. For a moment, it had felt like he was someone else entirely—someone powerful. But now, the aftermath left him weak, and his thoughts were a jumbled mess.

“Where exactly are we going?” Riya asked, her voice sharp.

“Not far,” Mark replied. “I’ve got a place nearby. It’s not much, but it’s better than sleeping on the streets.”

Riya didn’t respond, though her posture remained tense. She didn’t like this situation, but she wasn’t in a position to argue. Light’s condition was worsening, and they needed somewhere safe—at least for now.

After what felt like an eternity, Mark stopped in front of a narrow alley tucked between two crumbling buildings. He gestured toward a rusty door with peeling paint. “Here we are.”

“This is it?” Riya asked skeptically.

Mark rolled his eyes. “What were you expecting? A palace?”

He pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit space that served as both a home and a makeshift workshop. The room was cluttered with tools, wires, and scraps of metal. A small cot was shoved into one corner, and a table covered in maps and papers took up most of the space. A few shelves lined the walls, filled with mismatched supplies.

“Lay  down over there,” Mark said, nodding toward the cot.

Riya hesitated but eventually complied, gently helping Light onto the thin mattress. He groaned softly, his eyes fluttering. She stepped back, her arms aching from the effort.

“Thanks,” Light murmured weakly.and he fell unconscious.

“Don’t mention it,” Riya said, her tone softer than usual.

Mark rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a small box filled with bandages and ointments. “He’s lucky he’s not worse off. That fight took a lot out of him.”

“You saw it?” Riya asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Most of it,” Mark admitted. “I was nearby. Figured I’d step in if things got too messy, but you handled yourselves pretty well.” He glanced at Light, who was still half-conscious. “That power of his, though… where did that come from?”

Riya tensed, her gaze darting to Light. She didn’t know the answer to that question, but she wasn’t about to share anything personal with a stranger.

Mark shrugged, sensing her discomfort. “Fair enough. It’s none of my business. For now, let’s just focus on getting some rest. You both look like you could use it.”

As the night wore on, the tension in the room began to ease—just slightly. Mark worked on patching up Light’s injuries with surprising skill, his movements efficient and practiced. Riya watched him closely, her arms crossed.

“You’ve done this before,” she said, her tone more of a statement than a question.

Mark nodded. “Living on the streets teaches you a thing or two. You get hurt enough times, you figure out how to take care of yourself.” He glanced up at her, his expression unreadable. “I’m guessing you’re new to this.”

Riya’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.

Mark chuckled. “Yeah, I thought so. You’ve got that look—the one people have when they’ve just lost everything.”

Riya’s eyes flashed with anger, but before she could retort, Light stirred, groaning softly. She immediately knelt beside him, her focus shifting.

“Light?” she said, her voice laced with concern.

He opened his eyes, blinking against the dim light. “What… what happened?”

“You passed out,” Riya said. “But you’re okay now.”

Light managed a faint smile. “Good. I was worried you’d have to carry me all night.”

Riya rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “Idiot.”

Mark leaned back against the wall, watching the exchange with mild amusement. “You’ve got good friends, Light.”

Light turned his head toward Mark, his brows furrowing. “Who… are you?”

“Mark,” he said simply. “Your new roommate, apparently.”

Light looked at Riya for an explanation, and she sighed. “He helped us. Said we could stay here for a while.”

“For a price,” Mark added, his smirk returning.

Riya stiffened. “What price?”

“Relax,” Mark said, holding up his hands. “I’m not asking for much. Just some help with my work.”

“What kind of work?” Riya asked, her tone suspicious.

Mark hesitated for a moment before answering. “The kind that pays. Small jobs, mostly. Deliveries, some scavenging. Maybe a little stealing from people who deserve it.”

Riya frowned. “Stealing?”

“Only from the rich,” Mark clarified. “Corrupt types. The ones who won’t miss a few valuables.”

Light, still groggy, spoke up. “Why do you do it?”

Mark’s expression darkened slightly. “Because someone has to. The orphanages around here? They’re struggling. Most of them can barely afford food. I give a cut of what I make to the ones that need it most.”

Riya’s frown softened, though she still looked wary. “And you expect us to help you with that?”

Mark shrugged. “It’s up to you. But if you’re going to stay here, you’ll need to pull your weight.”

As the conversation wound down, Riya sat near the window, staring out at the darkened city. Light remained on the cot, his energy slowly returning. The bird—Aria, as Light had decided to call her—perched on the edge of the table, watching them silently.

“Why did you help me?” Riya asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t look at Light, but he could tell the question was directed at him.

Light blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“When we met,” Riya said. “You didn’t know me. You could’ve just walked away. But you didn’t. Why?”

Light hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because… I know what it’s like,” he said finally. “To feel like the whole world is against you. To have no one.”

Riya glanced at him, her eyes unreadable. For a moment, she looked like she was about to say something, but she stopped herself.

The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the city outside. Aria fluttered over to Light’s shoulder, nuzzling against him. He reached up to stroke her feathers, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he said softly, addressing the bird. “You’ve been pretty quiet. What’s going on in that little head of yours?”

Aria tilted her head, her gaze piercing. “You have more pressing concerns,” she said telepathically, her voice echoing in his mind.

Light froze. “You… you can talk?”

Riya turned toward him, her brow furrowing. “What?”

Light quickly shook his head. “Nothing. Just… talking to the bird.”

Riya raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further.

Aria’s voice returned, more urgent this time. “There’s more to your power than you realize, Light. And you’ll need to grow stronger. Quickly.”

Light frowned, his mind racing. “Why? What’s coming?”

Before Aria could respond, Mark clapped his hands, breaking the tension. “Alright, enough gloom. You two can sleep here tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll figure out the rest.”

Riya hesitated but finally nodded. Light leaned back on the cot, exhaustion pulling him under once again. As his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Author's Note:

Hi, everyone! I'm new to writing and Fate Bound is my very first novel. This is a journey I’m incredibly excited to share with you, and I’d love to hear your thoughts as we go along. Your feedback, suggestions, and support mean the world to me and will help me improve with each chapter. If you’re enjoying the story, please consider subscribing and leaving a comment—I’d love to know what you think! Let’s build this world together. Thank you so much for being a part of this journey!