It all began with hatred

In the shadowed clearing of the old playground, where the rusted swings creaked with every gust of wind, Rylan could hear Elana's distressed voice. He broke into a sprint, his heart pounding in his chest. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the deserted area.

Rylan skidded to a halt when he saw the scene before him: three boys, larger and older, were encircling Elana, their faces twisted with malicious glee. Elana, her eyes wide with fear, backed against the chain-link fence, clutching her schoolbag to her chest.

"Hey! Leave her alone!" Rylan shouted, his voice breaking through the taunting laughter.

The boys turned, their expressions darkening. The leader of the group, a tall boy with a mop of unruly hair and a sneer etched on his face, stepped forward. "Or what, Rylan? You gonna stop us?"

Rylan swallowed hard but stood his ground. "Yeah, I am."

The leader laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Get him."

The two boys flanking the leader moved first. The one on the right, a stocky kid with a buzz cut, lunged at Rylan, throwing a clumsy punch. Rylan sidestepped, his adrenaline heightening his reflexes. He grabbed the boy's arm and used his momentum against him, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

The second boy, taller and leaner, rushed Rylan with a wild swing. Rylan ducked under the punch and delivered a swift jab to the boy's ribs. The boy grunted, doubling over in pain. Rylan followed up with a shove, sending him staggering backward.

The leader watched his friends fall with growing irritation. "You little punk," he hissed, stepping forward. He was bigger and more confident than the others, and he moved with the arrogance of someone who's used to getting his way.

Rylan squared his shoulders, his fists clenched. The leader threw a punch, faster and more controlled than the others. Rylan barely had time to react, bringing his arms up to block. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back, but he quickly regained his footing.

"Is that all you got?" Rylan taunted, trying to mask his fear with bravado.

The leader's face twisted with anger. He charged at Rylan, aiming a series of rapid punches. Rylan dodged and weaved, blocking where he could. One punch slipped through his defense, catching him on the cheek and making his vision blur for a moment.

Rylan shook off the pain and retaliated with a punch of his own, aiming for the leader's jaw. The punch landed with a satisfying thud, and the leader staggered back, a look of shock on his face.

Before the leader could recover, Rylan followed up with a quick, powerful uppercut. The leader's head snapped back, and he crumpled to the ground, dazed.

The other two boys, seeing their leader down, hesitated. Rylan took a step toward them, his eyes blazing with determination. "You want some more?" he challenged.

They exchanged nervous glances before turning and running, their courage evaporating with their leader's defeat.

Rylan stood there, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched. He turned to Elana, who was watching with wide eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softening.

Elana nodded, tears of relief welling up in her eyes. "Thank you, Rylan. I was so scared."

Rylan walked over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, Elana. I'm here. Let's get out of here."

As they walked away from the playground, the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world into twilight. Rylan knew that things wouldn't be easy from now on, but for Elana, he would face any challenge head-on.

Rylan approached his home, the familiar sight of the small, tidy house giving him a brief moment of comfort. The sky was now a deep shade of indigo, and the first stars began to twinkle. He knew he had to be careful. His mother, a stickler for discipline and appearance, would not be pleased to see him with a fresh scratch on his face.

He crept around to the back door, careful to avoid the gravel path that would betray his presence with its crunching. The back door was usually unlocked; his mother often left it that way for him if she was busy with chores inside. Rylan gently turned the knob and slipped inside, wincing as the door creaked slightly.

The kitchen light was on, casting a warm glow that made the house feel cozy. He could hear the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of the TV in the living room. His mother was probably watching her evening news, her favorite way to unwind after a long day.

Rylan moved quickly and quietly, heading for the stairs. He was just a few steps away when he heard a voice behind him.

"Rylan, is that you?"

He froze, slowly turning to see his mother standing in the kitchen doorway. She was a striking woman, with sharp features softened by her warm brown eyes. She wore a simple dress, her hair pulled back in a neat bun. The look on her face was a mixture of relief and suspicion.

"Yes, Mom, it's me," Rylan replied, trying to sound casual.

"Come here, please," she said, her voice firm but not unkind.

Rylan sighed inwardly and walked over to her. As he got closer, her eyes narrowed, and she reached out, gently tilting his head to get a better look at the scratch on his cheek.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice now tinged with concern.

"I… I tripped and fell," Rylan lied, avoiding her gaze.

Her eyes searched his face, seeing through his attempt at deception. "Rylan, you know I don't like it when you get into fights. Tell me the truth."

Rylan hesitated, then decided to come clean. "Some kids were picking on Elana. I had to help her."

His mother's expression softened, but her worry was still evident. "You did the right thing defending your friend, but you need to be careful. Getting into fights isn't the solution."

"I know, Mom," Rylan said, his shoulders slumping. "I just couldn't stand there and do nothing."

She sighed, pulling him into a hug. "I understand, Rylan. But please, try to avoid these situations. You're a good boy, and I don't want to see you hurt."

Rylan hugged her back, feeling the warmth and reassurance of her embrace. "I'll try, Mom. I promise."

She pulled back and smiled at him, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "Now, let's get that scratch cleaned up."

They moved to the kitchen, where his mother took out the first-aid kit. As she gently cleaned the wound.

After she finished, she kissed his forehead and sent him upstairs to get ready for bed. As he climbed the stairs, Rylan felt a mix of exhaustion and relief. He had stood up for Elana, faced down bullies, and managed to avoid serious trouble with his mother. For now, that was enough.

Rylan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The day's events swirled in his mind, but sleep eluded him. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the window, casting eerie shadows on the walls. He sighed, trying to calm his racing thoughts.

Suddenly, the lights in his room flickered and went out. The house was plunged into darkness. Rylan sat up, his senses on high alert. He strained his ears and heard a faint rustling sound, followed by the unmistakable creak of the living room window being forced open.

His heart pounded in his chest as he slipped out of bed and crept to his bedroom door. He opened it a crack and peered into the hallway. The house was eerily silent, save for the odd noises coming from downstairs.

Rylan moved quietly down the hall, stopping at the top of the stairs. From his vantage point, he saw two shadowy figures, dressed in black from head to toe, standing in the living room. Ninjas. They were confronting his mother, who stood defiantly in front of them, blocking their path.

"We know you have the key," one of the ninjas hissed, his voice cold and menacing. "Give it to us".

His mother's voice was steady and resolute. "I don't know what you're talking about. Leave my house at once."

The ninja stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Don't lie to us. We know you're the Keeper. Hand over the golden key, or you'll regret it."

Rylan's mother stood her ground. "Never. You'll have to kill me first."

The ninja drew a blade with a deadly, silent efficiency. "So be it."

Rylan's blood ran cold as he watched the scene unfold. He wanted to scream, to run down the stairs and help her, but he was frozen with fear. The ninja lunged forward, and his mother's cry of pain echoed through the house as the blade struck.

Rylan snapped out of his paralysis. "No!" he shouted, racing down the stairs. He skidded into the kitchen, grabbing the largest knife he could find. He bolted into the living room, eyes blazing with fury.

The ninjas turned to face him, and he saw his mother collapse to the floor, blood pooling around her. "Mom!" he cried, rushing to her side.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain and a fierce determination. "Rylan, listen to me," she whispered, her voice weak. "You have to get away. They can't get the key."

"But I can't leave you," he protested, tears streaming down his face.

She reached out, her hand trembling, and touched his cheek. "I love you, Rylan. Be brave." With her last bit of strength, she whispered an incantation. A bright light enveloped Rylan, and he felt a strange pulling sensation.

"No!" he screamed as the light consumed him. He reached out for his mother, but she was already slipping away. The last thing he saw before he was teleported was the ninja driving his blade into her heart.

Rylan stumbled as he reappeared in a forest clearing, far from his home. He fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. The agony of loss and the fury of revenge churned inside him, a volatile mix that threatened to overwhelm him.

Back at the house, the ninjas retrieved the golden key from his mother's lifeless hand. "We have what we came for," one of them said, tucking the key into his belt.

"Let's go," the other agreed. They disappeared into the night.