Kid walked toward city gates, feeling dizzy from his time in the marketplace. It was an entirely different experience from the perspective of someone having money. Rather than a place filled with tantalizing objects just out of reach, everything was his for the taking. His coin purse was much lighter, but so was his heart. Clean clothes adorned his flesh, his stomach was full, and he still had money to spare. He was almost able to forget the price he paid for it all. Almost.

Kid’s smile faltered. As he neared the gate he forced the smile back to his face, just like Marc had told him. The Greencloaks took notice of him. Kid waved at them and wished them a good morning, as Marc said he should. The men nodded at him in acknowledgement and didn’t spare him a second glance after that. The Thorne soldiers didn’t even spare him that much.

It was amazing what a bath and a fresh set of clothes could do. Kid marched through the gates alone and unchallenged for the first time his entire life. The feeling was liberating, cathartic. He felt- More.

He walked a few blocks down the Kings road before veering onto one of the side roads. He grew nervous as he navigated the warren of alleys, afraid somebody would try to take what he’d earned. He didn’t know whether he was more stressed now or when he was a pauper. At least when he had no money and soiled clothing, he knew nobody would stick a knife in his back. Kid found himself looking over his shoulder every few steps. The dagger felt heavy at his hip and he tightened the pack on his back, afraid it might be wrenched away at any minute.

As he creeped through a narrow alleyway, he heard the distinctive snap of bone from around the corner. Kid froze, listening. He heard the scuff of dirt, followed by gnawing, and panting. Kid backed away slowly, trying his hardest to make no sound. The only thing more dangerous in the Outwalls than the people were the animals.

The gnawing sound stopped, a terrible silence replacing it. Kid didn’t dare move another step. He watched as the dog emerged from around the corner. Its ribs showed rippled through its fur and its left shoulder seemed entirely made of scar tissue. The animal walked with a noticeable limp and upon seeing Kid, bared its teeth.

Kid made no abrupt movements as the beast watched him, the hackles of its fur rising. Dogs were usually killed on sight in the Outwalls for food and because they were dangerous. But, like rats, some always seemed to survive.

The dog edged closer to him as Kid pulled the pack from his back and opened it. He reached inside and took out a loaf of bread. Kid drew his dagger. The dog came faster, egged on by the smell of food. Kid’s pulse pounded as he watched the creature approach. The thing probably weighed more than he did, and he knew damn well that it could outrun him.

Kid used the dagger to cut off a slice of bread. Just as the dog leaned on its hind legs, looking ready to charge him, Kid tossed the slice of bread in front of it. The dog hesitated, sniffing the air. It took a step forward and snatched up the bread, swallowing it in a single bite.

Kid cut another slice and tossed it a few paces in front of the dog. It came forward and ate up the bread. It looked expectantly at Kid. He threw another piece, drawing the dog closer.

He was running out of bread. Kid threw the last piece on the ground only a pace from his feet. He forced himself not to tense as the dog growled at him. It padded toward him, not taking its eyes from him- until it went for the bread.

Kid struck, stabbing the dagger into the side of the dog’s throat. The tip sank deep and grated against bone.

Kid was flung from his feet as the dog thrashed, slamming him into the wall of the alley. The entire structure shook, eliciting curses from inside. The dog’s jaws snapped, seeking his throat as he pushed at the dagger.

Gargled noises escaped the beast as its blood cascaded over Kid’s hands. It had him pinned against the wall and its efforts to get to him only sank the blade deeper into its throat.

Kid pushed with all his might, but his arms were caving in, the jaws getting closer to his throat. He screamed as the scabs over his burns split from the strain.

The dog began to slow, the hate in its eyes fading to the dullness of death. The snapping ceased and it fell to the ground. Kid pushed it over. He held it down while it kicked at him. The ragged breaths it took grew more sporadic until it stilled.

As Kid pulled the dagger from its throat, it emerged with a bubble of air and a burble of blood. He stumbled to his feet and looked down at his new clothes. They were soaked in blood. Kid groaned. He would never be clean. But at least he was alive to be filthy. His arms shook with pain as he wiped the dagger clean on the dog’s fur and sheathed it.

He grabbed his pack and stepped over the dog’s corpse, continuing his walk down the alleyway. He reached the corner the dog emerged from. The smell coming from the side alley warned him of what he would see but he still vomited from the sight. A rotting, desiccated corpse lay splayed across the alley. Maggots teemed in what was left of its flesh and half its bones were gnawed almost beyond recognition.

Kid stared at what had been his breakfast for a long moment before stepping over it and walking through the putrefying blood permeating the ground. His boots squelched with every step and the smell made him gag. He couldn’t force himself to breathe through his mouth for fear he might somehow taste the corruption.

He shook with relief when it was finally behind him. He was almost home.

Kid slid through a narrow crevice between two shacks and stumbled out onto his street, about a block from the Dancing Bear. Several people were walking down the boulevard and the blood on him attracted their attention. They kept their distance and that suited him fine.

Kid held his bloodied arms close to his chest as they throbbed in time with his pulse. A grimace lined his face as he approached his mother’s house. He paused outside to check whether she was working. That was not a sight he wanted to stumble into ever again. He couldn’t hear any sound through the door or the thin walls.

Kid eased open the door and peeked inside. He could see his mother’s feet peeking from out of her alcove. Bottles and trash littered the floor as usual and the fire in the middle of the shack was little more than embers, leaving the house nearly as cold as it was outside.

Kid froze as he heard the scraping of nails against wood mingled with indistinct muttering. Kid took a step back toward the door but his foot clinked into one of the many bottles cast about the floor. The scratching and muttering stopped, followed by the rustling of straw as his mother scrambled to her feet.

She came around the corner and regarded him with an expression that reminded him of the dog from the alley way. The skin about her face was stretched while her eyes were red and wild. She wore nothing but a stained slip, oblivious to the chill. Her hands shook, nails surrounded by crusty blood. She gave him a smile that resembled bared fangs and walked toward him.

Kid’s heart began to beat faster, and he removed the pack from his shoulders. He pulled out the loaf of bread he brought for her. “I brought you some food mom.”

He held it out to her and she snatched it from his hands, sitting down and gnawing at the crust of it with a ferocity that alarmed him. It was too late to leave now. Kid pulled out the second thing he got her, a thick, grey wool cloak.

He edged around her while she devoured the food and draped the fabric over her shoulders. She didn’t seem to even notice. He added coal to the dying embers and stoked a fresh flame into existence with a discarded bottle.

When he turned back to his mother she was staring at him with bloodshot eyes. She grinned at him in a mockery of a smile. “Thank you, darling, I can’t remember the last time I ate.”

Kid could. It was the last time he brought her food.

She shifted onto her knees and crawled closer to where he knelt by the fire. “You look so well today. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since last night.”

Kid frowned at her words, glancing at the blood. She didn’t even seem to notice. He spared her the details. “I did it mom. I joined the Sons.”

His mother lit up, eyes growing even more wild. “You did? Then you have some money. I know you do.” She reached out and gently stroked is cheek. “Please, my little prince. Spare a little for your ma? I’m so hungry and cold.” She pulled the cloak tighter around her without any indication of knowing where it came from.

Kid hesitated a moment before reaching into his pockets and pulled out three of his last six silver lions. His mother practically salivated at the sight. Kid placed them into her palm. As he pulled his hand back she snatched his forearm and jerked him toward her. Kid cried out in pain as she abused his burned flesh.

“Don’t be greedy Kid. You know we need the money.”

“I can’t afford any more. Please.”

She squeezed his arm harder, making tears come into his eyes. She jerked him by the arm and threw him into the wall. His head smacked into the wood. She stood up over him and fear exploded inside him. He felt like he was five years old again, the first time he had brought money home. He tried to scramble backwards, to melt into the wood. He tucked his knees to his chest and buried his head between them, letting his trousers soak up his tears.

She grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up. She slapped him across the face then held out her hand. His hands shook as he placed the silver in her palm. As quickly as the violence started, she turned away from him.

Kid crawled toward his pack as she sat by the fire and fingered the silver in her hand. It was probably the most money she had ever held at once. Before she could take notice of him again Kid grabbed his belongings and fled through the door. She didn’t so much as glance at him as he left.

The faces of people staring at him blurred from the tears in his eyes as he raced past them toward the Dancing Bear. He dove into the gap between buildings and shimmied his way through the tight confines, dragging his pack behind him. He spilled out into the small space and stumbled against his tree. He held it tight, struggling to catch his breath as he finally felt safe beneath its boughs. He was okay. He was home.

“Divines Kid, Are you okay?”

Kid jumped in surprise. He released the tree and scrambled away from the voice, putting his back to the wall. The pounding in his ears subsided as he saw Lissa rising to her feet, worry plastered across her face.

Kid shook his head, dropped the pack and raced into her arms. She held him while he shook.

“Your mom?” she asked.

He nodded, choked for words.

She didn’t say another word, only stroking the back of his head while he struggled to find control of his breathing. Kid lost track of how much time they stood like that it seemed an eternity and he could have spent a second forever there, but he released her. He knew he was being selfish.

As he let her go he noticed her red eyes and the snot dribbling down her nose. Blood from his arms stained her gown but she didn’t seem to care or notice. “I’m sorry Lissa. I didn’t mean for last night to happen. I didn’t want any of it. Just please don’t hate me.”

She frowned and took his hand, leading him to the wall they always sat against. “I don’t know who I blame but it’s not you,” she said as she made him sit down. Now stay here while I get something to replace those bandages.”

Kid nodded, staring at the ground as she slid through the gap. Your mom. He felt wretched every time he entered that cursed place but if he didn’t take care of her who would? He pulled his knees to his chest and looked up at the boughs of the tree, swaying in the fog. He’d never give up on her. It just wasn’t in him.

The sound of horns echoed far in the distance, followed by the hollow sound of ringing bells from the Inner City. Kid shivered Involuntarily. When he was young his mother used to tell him the Sorrowmen would steal children who didn’t bring food home, regaling him with the tales of each Sorrow. The men from the Sorrow of ashes scared him the most. He’d watched from the docks once as they captured a ship with little bloodshed, stole the cargo, locked the crew below decks and set the ship aflame. The crew’s screams had managed to reach the shores. He hoped whoever was caught today met men from another island.

He emerged from his thoughts as Lissa reappeared through the gap. His gaze alighted on the bottle of whiskey in her hand and his eyes widened. He scooted away from her. “No, No, No No No.”

“Yes, Yes, Yes Yes Yes,” she answered. “Stop being a baby. If you get yourself hurt, you must either clean the wound or lose the limb. You know how it works. I can’t imagine a successful thief with no hands, can you?” she smiled.

Kid couldn’t help but smile back but it soon turned into a grimace as he took in the bottle. He sighed. “Fine.”

Lissa knelt next to him, wrinkling her nose as she unwrapped his bloody bandages. It was impossible to tell how much was his and how much belonged to the dog. Her expression changed to one of horror when she saw the split, burned skin beneath the bandages.

“Divines above. What happened to you?”

Kid told her. Everything.

He paused only to bite down on his dagger’s scabbard while she poured the burning liquid over his arms, washing away the blood and nearly sending him into unconsciousness.

When he got to the initiation ritual and what Marc told him, she stopped him. “No,” she said.

“What?” Kid asked.

“No,” she repeated. “That is not true.”

Kid blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lissa paused, searching for the words as she wrapped his arms in rags from behind the bar soaked with the alcohol. Kid winced as she applied them but the pain was nothing next to the waterfall of agony he experienced a moment ago.

“You never have to hurt anybody for me. I would never ask or want you to lose your soul to save my life.” She finished tying off the makeshift bandages. His fingertips were exposed but he supposed it was all they could do. Lissa sat against the wall next to him and put a hand on his knee.

“It’d be a small price to pay.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Puh-lease don’t start talking like Uncle Marc. If you listen to him for more than five minutes you can almost smell the crap coming out of his mouth.”

Kid grinned despite himself.

Lissa put her hand against his cheek and turned his head to her. She looked him in the eye. “Listen, Kid. Never give up who you are for who you could be.” She wrapped her arms around his bicep and laid her head on his shoulder. “Because who you are is my best friend.”

Kid’s heart ached. He was bruised, burned and battered. But for the first time in what felt like ages he relaxed, enjoying the moment of peace. He watched the boughs of their tree sway in the fog while her breath warmed his neck. He was home.