Silver veins

chapter 1

Ferial sat with her friend, Abdie, on the cracked concrete ledge outside the factory gates, the scent of smoke and metal still clinging to their clothes.

The afternoon sun was fading, painting the sky with tired streaks of gold and rust. They had finished their shift hours ago, but neither of them wanted to go home just yet.

The district always felt quieter after dark—like it could finally breathe.

Abdie was the first to break the silence. “You know what I heard today?” he said, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves had ears.

Ferial leaned forward, curiosity flickering in her tired eyes. “What now?”

He smirked. “Apparently, the female enforcers were talking about him again. You know—the Alpha Supreme’s son.”

She raised a brow. “The one that they always say is on the news?”

“Yeah, that one.” Abdie nodded, glancing around before continuing.

“They say his social media’s blowing up.

All those events, the photos, the way he’s always around the top ranks.

But he’s… private, too. Family-oriented.

Doesn’t talk much about his personal life.

Trains a lot, they said—he’s in both the military and the air force.

That’s why he’s always seen in uniform.”

Ferial gave a quiet hum. “Must be nice, huh? Having a life where people talk about you like that. Not because you’re starving, or because you got caught breaking curfew.”

They both chuckled softly, though it didn’t reach their eyes. Their laughter in District Sapien 12 always carried a weight to it—thin and fleeting, like smoke in the wind.

Eventually, they decided to head back to Ferial’s apartment.

The walk was long, past the same flickering streetlights and peeling walls.

When they reached the run-down building she called home, Ferial pushed open the creaky door, greeted by the faint scent of potato soup.

Her grandparents sat by the small table in the corner, sharing what little they had.

“Evening, Nana. Papa,” she greeted softly, kissing them both on the cheek.

Her grandmother smiled faintly, lines deepening around her eyes. “Long day at the factory, my girl?”

Ferial nodded, sitting beside them. “Same as always. Machines broke down again, and the supervisor was in one of his moods. But I managed to finish my quota.”

After dinner, she tidied up, letting her grandparents rest in the small bedroom—the one with the bed she had saved for months to buy. It was old and uneven, but to them, it was luxury. She herself curled up on the broken couch, a blanket draped across her legs.

Her grandmother often spoke of the Goddess after supper, her faith steady despite everything.

Tonight was no different. “It’s been hundreds of years, child,” she said softly, looking out the cracked window toward the stars.

“Even my grandmother never knew a life before the wolves took over. They rule everything now. It’s just the way the world has become. ”

Later, when the air cooled, Ferial and Abdie sat outside again under the vast, polluted sky. They talked quietly, staring at the pinpricks of light that still managed to shine through the haze.

“Imagine,” Abdie said dreamily, “having a proper education. Nice clothes. A real bed. Maybe even your own room.”

Ferial laughed. “And running water that actually works?”

He grinned. “Now that’s living.”

They both laughed harder, clutching their stomachs, though they quickly hushed themselves when a pair of wolf enforcers passed by on patrol. Their boots hit the pavement with rhythmic precision—reminders of who truly ruled this world.

When they were gone, Ferial exhaled. “Sometimes I wonder if they can hear what we say.”

“Probably,” Abdie muttered. “But if they cared, we’d all be dead by now.”

They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “Oh—did I tell you what Rona also overheard?”

Ferial looked over. “No, what now?”

“She said the enforcers were talking about the news. The old Alpha Supreme is stepping down. His son’s taking over.”

Ferial frowned. “That same one? The one you were just talking about?”

“Yeah.” Abdie’s tone carried a mix of awe and disbelief. “Apparently, he’s been traveling the continent—visiting human districts, seeing how things are. They say he wants to ‘improve conditions.’” He used air quotes.

Ferial rolled her eyes and stretched her legs out on the pavement. “Improve, huh? That’s what they all say before tightening the leash.”

He shrugged. “Still, it’s something. Maybe he’s different.”

“Maybe,” she said softly, though she didn’t believe it.

They both fell silent again, the sound of distant sirens echoing through the district. Ferial glanced up at the stars—dull, smudged behind the city’s smoke.

“Do you ever think,” she whispered, “that maybe, one day, things could change? That we won’t always be… less?”

Abdie didn’t answer right away. His gaze was far away, thoughtful. “Maybe,” he said at last. “But if it does, it won’t be in our lifetime.”

Ferial hugged her knees, resting her chin on them. “Then maybe I’ll dream for the next one.”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah. Dream for both of us.”

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled—a sound that always sent a chill down her spine. The curfew bell followed soon after, ringing through the streets like a warning. They stood and dusted themselves off, heading back inside before the enforcers started their rounds.

As Ferial climbed onto her couch, her mind wandered back to what Abdie had said. The Alpha Supreme’s son. The one traveling through the districts.

If he truly was visiting humans… would she ever see him?

The thought was ridiculous—dangerous even—but it lingered all the same.

She pulled the thin blanket tighter around herself and closed her eyes.

Tomorrow would be the same. Another day in a world that had long forgotten people like her.

But somewhere out there, a wolf who ruled the skies might just be looking down on the same stars.

And that thought—fragile, foolish, and impossible—was enough to make her smile.