The air in the marketplace was thick with tension. The crowd that usually bustled with cheerful chatter had thinned, whispers replacing the hum of trade. News of the recent attack on Cael’s Keep had spread fast, though the details were murky. All anyone knew was that something—or someone—dangerous was out there.
Dyell and Elias wove through the marketplace, their movements tense. Elias had insisted on stopping by to grab supplies before heading to their next destination, but Dyell was clearly not in the mood for idle errands.
“Elias, we don’t have time for this!” Dyell hissed, glancing around nervously. “We need to find that shard before someone else does.”
Elias turned to him, his face splitting into a smirk. “Relax, Mr. Doom and Gloom. We’ve got this. Besides, you could use a breather. You’re wound tighter than an old lute string.”
Dyell shot him a glare, but before he could retort, a voice cut through the air.
“Well, if it isn’t the boy wonder and his sidekick.”
Both boys froze. Dyell turned slowly to see a tall figure leaning casually against a wooden stall, arms crossed. It was Kieran, a notorious troublemaker from the neighboring village. His smirk was sharp, his dark eyes glinting with mischief.
“What do you want, Kieran?” Dyell asked, his voice low and even.
Kieran pushed off the stall and sauntered closer, his gaze flicking between Dyell and Elias. “Oh, nothing much. Just wondering why two scrappy kids like you are poking around where you don’t belong.”
Elias stepped forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a hard edge. “Back off, Kieran. We’re not in the mood for your games.”
Kieran raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Games? Nah. I just think it’s funny. Two little kids playing hero, thinking they can take on the world. It’s cute, really.”
Dyell’s fists clenched at his sides. “Say what you want, but we’re not going to let you or anyone else get in our way.”
Kieran laughed, the sound cold and mocking. “Oh, is that right? And what are you going to do about it, Dyell? Strum your guitar at me? Write me a sad song?”
Elias grabbed Dyell’s arm before he could lunge at Kieran. “He’s not worth it,” Elias muttered, his tone warning.
Kieran’s grin widened. “Listen to your boyfriend, Dyell.”
That did it. Dyell broke free from Elias’s grip and stepped up to Kieran, his voice shaking with fury. “You don’t know anything about us. So why don’t you shut your mouth before I make you?”
The crowd around them had stopped to watch, their whispers growing louder. Kieran’s smirk faded slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Careful, kid. You’re biting off more than you can chew.”
Before the tension could snap, an older merchant stepped between them. “Enough, the both of you!” he barked. “Take your nonsense elsewhere. This is a marketplace, not a battleground.”
Kieran glanced at the merchant, then back at Dyell. His smirk returned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You got lucky this time, Dyell. But don’t think this is over.”
With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the boys standing in the middle of the market, the weight of his words lingering in the air.
Elias let out a low whistle. “That guy’s got issues.”
Dyell didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the spot where Kieran had stood. His heart was still racing, but not from fear. It was anger—pure, burning anger.
“Dyell,” Elias said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s just a jerk looking for attention.”
Dyell finally tore his eyes away, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah. You’re right.”
But as they continued through the market, Dyell couldn’t shake the feeling that Kieran’s words had struck a nerve deeper than he wanted to admit. And somewhere in the back of his mind, a question lingered: How much more could he take before he snapped?
YOU ARE READING
Fragments of Fate
FantasyDyell's life has been haunted by the mysterious disappearance of his mother, Lady Arienne, five years ago. When a storm strikes, Dyell and his best friend Elias are thrown into a dangerous journey to uncover the truth about her secret past. The key...
