A Scum's Redemption

It's dark.

But not scary.

Not yet.

Aren knows it's not his memory.

The thoughts are too soft. The colors too bright. The air too warm.

This isn't his fear.

It's Kai's.

He's watching through the eyes of a child—no older than two. Small arms. Clumsy breath. A world far too big.

He's in a small space. Wood around him. It smells like soap and Mama's shirt. His knees are tucked tight. His face is wet.

He was crying before.

But Mama is here now.

Her hands are warm on his cheeks.

Her smile shakes.

She presses her forehead to his.

"Be brave, okay? You have to be brave for Mommy."

He nods.

He doesn't understand.

But he nods anyway.

"Something scary is coming. I need you to stay quiet in here."

"I'll be back. I'll never abandon you."

She kisses him on the forehead.

Then the closet doors close.

Not all the way.

Just enough to still see through the slits.

A crash.

The front door—blown open like a thunderclap.

Kai flinches.

So do I.

Voices flood the room. Rough. Fast. Angry.

He's not dressed like a soldier.

No armor. No insignia.

Just a threadbare coat, long and dark, stained at the cuffs with something too old to name. Rings on every finger—cheap brass, some bent, one still flecked with blood. His boots are mismatched. One's leather, cracked and worn. The other's canvas, wrapped in tape. But he walks like the ground owes him its shape.

His face is the kind that sticks with you—wide jaw, crooked nose, skin pitted from old pox scars. His eyes are dark, rimmed red, too tired to blink and too mean to care.

When he smiled, it was thin and joyless. Like he's already decided what you're worth.

"We take you in—give you a job, give you money, a place to call home—and you steal from me?!"

Someone falls.

A body hits the floor hard.

I see it through Kai's narrow view—his father, shoved down, his face smeared in dirt and blood.

Reyda screams.

She runs to him.

A man strikes her.

The slap cracks like a whip, her body crumpling like paper.

The air thickens.

The men tear the home apart. Furniture breaks. Cabinets slam. Dishes shatter.

One walks toward the closet.

Kai holds his breath.

I do too.

Then—

"We got it!"

The man turns away.

Kai's father is kneeling.

Arms out.

Hands shaking.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to— I had to. I owed people money. They said they'd take my head. Please... please. Let us go. Let my wife go."

A chuckle.

Cold.

Cruel.

"'They'd have your head,' huh?"

A snap of fingers.

A sword is drawn.

It gleams.

Then swings.

Fast.

A sound cuts the air—like meat and bone being torn apart in one motion.

Thud.

The head hits the floor.

Hard.

A bounce. A roll.

It lands facing the closet.

Eyes open.

Lifeless.

Kai doesn't scream.

He can't.

I want to look away.

He can't.

Reyda's shriek splits the silence.

"NO!"

"You monster!"

She throws herself at the body—pulls what's left into her lap.

"No, no, no… we were supposed to leave. We were supposed to leave the this god forsaken place. Start a new life. You can't leave me. You can't."

The man just laughs.

"Leave? No one leaves the slums."

Another sword comes out.

Raised.

But another man stops him.

"Let the slums take her. It's a far worse fate"

And then they leave.

The room is still.

Except for Reyda.

Her sobs echo like waves crashing against stone.

On and on. 

Occasionally calling out his name "Paul.." 

She clutches his body tighter, rocking slowly. Holding his head where it should be. Her voice is raw—half whisper, half promise.

"They think this is over."

"They think they've broken us."

Her eyes flick to the closet—just for a second.

"But I still have him."

"And I'll give him a life worth keeping."

She presses her forehead to Paul's.

"They don't get to win."

Until, finally—

a breath.

Sharp.

Deliberate.

She moves.

Drags the body.

Puts it in a bag.

Cleans the floor.

Wipes the blood from the cracks in the wood.

All without speaking.

Aren feels Kai trembling in silence.

Being brave.

Because she asked him to.

The doors open.

Reyda kneels. Wraps him in her arms.

"I told you I'd be back."

Her voice shakes.

"You were brave, my love."

She holds him tighter.

And he finally cries again.

I don't.

Then he sees her face.

Eyes swollen. Lips trembling.

Like she's one word away from shattering.

But she doesn't.

She just smiles for him.

Be brave, she told him.

So now— she is.

The darkness shifts.

Not with sound.

With warmth.

The weight of blood and silence lifts—

and something softer takes its place.

Another memory rises.

Gentler.

New.

It's warm. Not just around him—inside him. Like he's being held by the world itself.

But it's not the world.

It's her.

Reyda.

She cradles him in her arms, skin still slick with effort, eyes rimmed in exhaustion—but glowing.

Like nothing else matters.

Like this moment rewrote every pain she's ever known.

Sweat clings to her brow. Strands of hair stick to her cheeks. Her lips tremble—not from weakness, but from everything they're holding in. 

She looks down.

At him.

And smiles.

Soft. Shaky. Real.

"Hello my love, welcome to the world." she whispers.

A voice off to the side. Older. Calm.

"What will his name be?"

Reyda doesn't answer at first.

She just holds him tighter. Like the answer is already in her bones.

Then:

"Kaelen."

"Any significance?"

A pause.

Then—

"I knew someone once. A long time ago. Not for long... but long enough."

She blinks. Her eyes glisten.

"He shone brighter than anyone I ever met."

"But his light was snuffed out before it could reach the people who needed it."

She brushes a thumb across Kai's cheek.

Her voice steadies.

"I want his light to live on in him."

"To grow up. To shine. To become the light others need."

She leans down. Forehead to forehead.

"I only just met him…"

A breath.

A smile.

"And he's already the light of my life."

I watch from the edges of the memory—

silent, hollow, burning.

He doesn't move.

He doesn't breathe.

He just watches Reyda hold her son like he's hope itself.

And in that moment, he understands:

Kai wasn't just her light.

He is his own.

Small. Fierce. Still shining—

even here, in the dark.

The memory fades.

The warmth lingers.

Then—

I gasp awake.

My lungs pull in air like it's the first breath he's ever earned. The ledge digs into his back. Blood crusts at the edge of his lip. Whole body protests.

But his heart is loud now.

Alive.

What was I thinking?

I stagger upright. My hands grip the rock wall—cold, damp, unforgiving.

And climb.

One arm. One leg. One breath at a time.

Not because it's easy.

Not because it's possible.

Because I have to.

Each pull of my body is a refusal.

Each step a rejection of the man I almost became.

The higher I get, the less the dark clings to me.

Like it knows.

It's losing.

By the time my fingers catch the edge of the cliff, I'm burning.

I haul myself up.

Stands.

Breathless.

At the top.

The clearing is quiet.

Too quiet.

Wolf bodies lie broken across the earth—matted fur, twisted limbs, blood dried into the dirt.

No sign of the bear.

Only the aftermath.

That's enough.

I run.

The forest tears at him.

Roots trip me. Branches lash. Old wounds open. New ones bloom.

But none of it stops me.

Because this time, I'm running toward something.

Not away.

Toward the boy.

Toward the promise.

Toward the one thing that still makes me feel human.

My lungs burn. Legs buckle. But I keep going.

Grabs berries mid-run. Doesn't stop.

I run like the world is trying to catch me.

And for once—

I outrun it.

Hours blur.

Time folds.

Finally.

I see it.

The hole in the ground.

That narrow slit of stone and dark that once felt like a tomb.

Like a grave.

Now?

It's different.

Now it's a door.

A place where I almost lost everything.

A place where I'll find it again.

A prison once.

A hell once.

But now—

the place where I'll find my light.

I peer into the slit.

Just darkness.

Then—

A flicker of light.

Faint. Soft. Like something trying to breathe.

"Kai?"

No answer.

Just the wind, curling upward like a warning.