The days following the ceremony dragged on like the heavy clouds that often blanketed the sky, casting shadows over Kael's world. He remained trapped in a limbo between the hopes he had once held and the reality that had now imprisoned him.
The orphanage, with its peeling walls and creaking floors, felt more like a cage than a home.
Kael spent most of his time alone, his wheelchair a barrier between him and the bustling life outside. The other children had settled into their new roles, their laughter ringing through the halls like a mocking chorus.
He could hear them practicing their skills, bursts of light and energy illuminating the corridors, showcasing what he could never be a part of. It felt like a distant dream—one he could no longer grasp.
But in the evenings, a familiar figure would return. The rat had made a habit of visiting him, often darting in and out of shadows, bringing a semblance of comfort to his otherwise lonely existence. Each night, Kael would save a bit of food, offering it to the small creature as a token of their unspoken bond.
One cold night, after a particularly harsh conversation with one of the caretakers about his imminent expulsion, Kael sat in his bed, feeling the weight of despair settle heavily on his chest. The orphanage felt more suffocating than ever, and the laughter of the other children echoed mockingly in his ears.
"As expected... so it has finally come to this point,"
He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
"What am I supposed to do now? I'll be tossed aside like some damaged goods..."
"I am one though..."
His eyes drifted to the window, the darkness outside reflecting the emptiness within him. The thought of facing the world alone, without a home or purpose, was unbearable. He sank deeper into his despair, the hopelessness wrapping around him like a thick fog, drowning out any flicker of hope.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar shape darting into his room. The rat, with its tiny paws scurrying across the floor, caught his attention. Kael's heart ached at the sight of the creature, so small and fragile, yet so determined to survive.
"So you've come..." Kael said, forcing a smile as he spoke to the rat.
"I'm sorry, though; I no longer have any food to give... I haven't been given any you see."
Bitterness laced his words, and he felt tears threatening to spill over.
To his surprise, the rat paused, its nose twitching as it approached Kael's wheelchair. It seemed to study him, its dark eyes shining with a strange intensity. Kael stared at the rat, feeling a flicker of connection—one that transcended their differences.
"Maybe you should just go," Kael said, his voice cracking.
"You deserve better than being stuck with someone like me. I'm just some damaged trash..."
But instead of scurrying away, the rat climbed up onto his lap, looking up at Kael with a surprising level of understanding. In that moment, something shifted within him. He reached out tentatively, allowing his fingers to brush against the rat's fur. It felt warm and alive, and in that simple connection, he found a strange comfort.
As if sensing his despair, the rat suddenly nuzzled against Kael's hand, a gesture that felt almost like a promise. It was a moment of recognition, a silent understanding that they were both survivors in a world that had abandoned them.
"I'll be kicked out soon... I won't see you again. I'm sorry I can no longer bring you any food..."
Kael looked down at the rat, his voice heavy with resignation.
"We'll be alone to fend for ourselves again..."
Kael said, his voice thick with emotion as tears streamed down his cheeks.
The rat seemed to have sensed his pain and suddenly thought of something. He enjoyed being with the human, who had fed him during his times of hunger. Though his gaze sometimes showed indifference, there were moments when it reflected genuine care. In contrast, other humans often looked at him with disgust, and many had even tried to kill him.
Knowing that the human is leaving gave him a sense of urgency, He couldn't quite grasp what he was feeling, but he knew he had to do something. Driven by instinct, he suddenly understood what needed to be done and moved decisively.
A warmth spread from the rat into Kael's fingers, pulsating with energy. Kael's breath caught in his throat, his heart racing. In that instant, he felt a presence—a voice in his mind, whispering softly.
"Familiar contract initiated. Will you accept?"
Kael blinked, startled by the sensation. Was he imagining things? It felt like a contract, an offer to forge a connection with the rat. But what would that mean for him? Could he really form a bond with a rat?
"Are you... asking to be my familiar?"
Kael whispered, uncertainty creeping into his thoughts.
"But I have nothing to offer..."
The rat didn't move, its eyes locked onto Kael's. The intensity in the rat's gaze made him feel seen—truly seen—for the first time in a long while. In that moment, Kael realized something profound: The rat wanted him to live on.
"Okay," he said, his voice steadier now, filled with a newfound determination.
"I accept."
The warmth surged through him again, enveloping them both in a gentle glow. Kael felt a sense of acceptance washed over him, a promise of companionship. As the light faded, he knew that something had changed.
In the silence of the room, amidst the shadows and the echo of lost hopes, Kael felt a flicker of something he thought he'd lost forever—a sense of belonging, however small, in a world that had casted him aside.