Renlo was rooted in place.
It was late and night, and the sun had already set, yet, the clearing was brightly lit.
A bright gold light engulfed the entirety of Renlo's vision, and he raised his hand, squinting just to see through the blinding brilliance.
But despite this brief respite, Renlo was far from alright.
'I'm being attacked.'
Malakai had been right. Renlo had a knack for sensing when things were about to take a bad turn. An instinct for danger, they called it.
But it couldn't be helped. When your childhood was filled with nothing but pain and humiliation, you tend to pick up one or two survival habits.
"Hey, trash."
At the cold voice, Renlo's body trembled. His heart thundered in his chest, and sweat drenched his skin as though he had just run a marathon.
The memories surged. The bullying. The beatings. The shame.
Tears welled in his eyes, but he clenched his fists hard.
'I'm not that person anymore.'
