“Boggy, I’m so sorry. Please…” Darkness’ voice crackled as he crawled into the small bag that Boggy made for him out of the now more ragged cloak.

“Don’t worry about it. Just calm down, and heal.” The boglet had no misgivings towards his friend. After all, Darkness hadn’t done anything wrong. It had been Karla’s inability to control her urges that had caused this entire urge.

Not too far behind him, the bird in question swooped down and up through the crowd, like a seagull scooping for fish. With each return to the sky, she had a new sparkly object begilding her beak. Nothing as shiny as her loot from her last raid, but quite a few glowy enough to make up for it.

The mere sight of her sent waves of anger through Boggy. Once they got out of here, they were going to have a discussion. A long discussion.

That being said, however, they had to leave first. He looked around the panicked humans, hoping that one of them was hiding an exit behind them. None were found. It looked like his only hope of getting out of here was through the front entrance.

“HEATHENS!”

The shout shook the Market to its rafters. Boggy, along with the other occupants, even the flying one, stopped whatever they were doing, and turned their eyes towards the newcomer.

Boggy’s first impression of him was that he was very sweaty and red. His face, anyways. It was a stark contrast to the pure-white of his robes, seemingly unblemished by the dust and dirt that coated the alley. He was probably young, although the boglet still hadn’t gotten used to the humans’ short lifespan.

Boggy had to do a double take as he realized who was standing behind him. He squinted, hoping that the light was playing tricks on him, but the truth remained the same regardless of how hard he looked. It was the witch from the Grove. The same one that had killed the human he was currently disguised as.

Voices cried out behind them, although varied in emotion. Some of them seemed to be furious, while others squealed in fear.

“Uh oh.” Edie said, hiding well within Boggy’s breastplate. “That’s not good. We need to leave.”

“Agreed. Any ideas on how to get out of here?”

It seemed like the only way to get out was currently being blocked by a tomato disguised as a human, and a witch who was staring at him intensely. The mob of humans that was gathered behind him was a preferable option, if he was being honest.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been to places like these before. If the people around here have got half a brain, then they wouldn’t have just one exit. I’m sure that if we wait long enough…” Edie poked her head out of the armor, scanning the outskirts of the crowd. “There!” She nudged her body towards a small girl that ran towards one of the less active areas of the Market. “Follow her!”

Boggy started running towards her, shoving past the now distracted humans, but stopped mid-stride. He felt like he was forgetting something. Something important, stupid, and annoying…

A loud squawk solved his memory issues. Boggy looked up with disgust, and saw that Karla was covered with even more stolen silver and gold, barely able to fly with the weight of jewelry that hung from her body. Looking at her face, however, you’d see a bird having the time of her life, content with all that existed in the world.

Boggy ruined that, and lunged for her. With a swift grab to the leg, he pulled her back to the ground, ignoring the clattering of necklaces hitting the stone floor and the subsequent complaints. “Hey, those are my things! Let go of me, I want to--”

Her speech grew garbled as Boggy increased his speed, and his hand just so happened to start pumping harder. Karla swung from side to side, being shaken by Boggy’s arm. He tried his best to hide his impotent rage for later, but a little bit of it seemed to spill out.

Was it childish and immature? Yes. Was it cathartic? Absolutely.

Behind him, as he left the main area of the Market, Boggy heard a voice yell something out. Edie translated it before he had to ask.

“Get him!”

The boglet ran like the wind. It hadn’t even been a day since he had set foot in the human world, and already he’d been chased through the city twice. Frankly, he was getting a little sick of it.

His legs thumped off the ground, pumping mechanically like pistons as he shot across the building, chasing after the little girl that ran away, hoping that she knew a way out of this place. The girl, unaware of her desperate pursuer, reached one of the degrading walls of the Market, and slipped underneath a small hole near the bottom.

Boggy immediately saw a problem. The girl, nearly a quarter of his size, barely managed to slip through. He stood no chance at escaping through it. It was obvious that he was going to have to find another way out.

But in this circumstance, momentum was his enemy. Despite his best attempts, his feet refused to stop moving, and he crashed head first into the wall.

The wall broke.

The next thought he had was how nice it was that he was flying. Was this how Karla felt all of the time?

Then he landed, and his mind was filled with pain. It burst all over his body, burning blooms of pain that the shock could hardly stop. For the next few seconds, he groaned and yelled, writhing on the ground.

The yells brought him back to his senses. Boggy blinked. He was being chased. He needed to leave. He needed to protect Darkness and Edie. And Karla, if he had to.

Stumbling to his feet, he found himself in an alley. Boggy didn’t know which one, or where he was going, but there was only one correct direction. He needed to leave.

Heedless of his pain, of the mind-numbing agony that he’d been inflicted, his body moved on. Boggy thrust himself around corners, through alleys, through entire groups of people, not worrying about where he was going.

He didn’t know how long he’d been running, but what brought him back to reality was the raspy voice of Darkness. “Boggy!” It was a soft shout full of concern, the kind of shout that only his friend could have made.

And just like that, Boggy snapped out of it. He stopped mid-stride, and looked around. Wherever he was, he’d covered a large amount of distance. The boarded up stalls and tenements had transformed into brightly colored houses and decorated shops. He was standing in a large street, populated by well-dressed people, all of whom were staring at him and whispering.

Most prominent, there was a large, white building standing right before him. Boggy had no credentials in architecture, given that he had seen his first man-made structure this morning, but it was obvious that there was some sort of importance to this one. It was grand, larger than any of the others, with a golden statue of a female human adorning the staircase to the front door.

And right in front of it was a very familiar, pantsless, figure. Gerald the merchant stood on a box in front of the building, speaking with vigor towards the multiple armed guards that were approaching him. “You can’t arrest me for speaking the truth! After all, the hero is Esmira’s chosen, and to refuse him is nothing but…” His eyes darted through the street, hoping to find somebody who would help him.

His eyes found Boggy’s. “Hero! Please, for the love of Esmira, help me!”

Boggy’s eyes found the ground. Trouble had enough ease finding him, but he wasn’t going to jump into it himself. At a nonchalant pace, he made his way out of the busy street, ignoring the increasingly garbled speech of the merchant.

“Hero? Heroooooo!” Gerald was dragged off by the guards. Boggy hoped that he wasn’t killed.

As soon as he found a suitably empty alley, he collapsed onto the ground, his body shrouded in exhaustion. “Boggy, are you alright?” Edie whispered into his ear.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little bit… sleepy…” Boggy’s eyes closed, and he drifted into the sweet, painless dark of sleep.

###

“Get that man!” One of the merchants yelled, pointing towards the priest.

Belle could see where this was going. The crowd, previously ambivalent and scared, realized the opportunity in front of them. There was a lone, basically unguarded Northern priest standing in front of them. A very large group of somewhat rebellious citizens, in a secluded place.

The spark was lit, and it caught quickly. Jeers and insults flew from the crowd, quickly turning into a mob. Belle didn’t want to know what they were going to do next. It was time for them to leave. She turned to the priest, tugging on his robe and pointing towards the exit.

He ignored her, choosing to antagonize the mob instead. “Repent, you heathens, and maybe you’ll be able to survive in a civilized city! Get rid of your magic and repent!” He waved a fist in the air in a way that was meant to be threatening, but only looked like he was trying to punch a fly out of the air.

Belle resisted the urge to slap him. If she wanted to get closer to the Burners, then assaulting their priest probably wasn’t going to help. Or maybe it would with some of them. She stopped and thought about it for a second.

A second too long. It was enough for one of the de-facto leaders of the Market to organize them. The older woman, David’s mother, looked at the priest with murder in her eyes. “What were you doing with my son!?” She screeched, and started walking towards him.

That was enough cause for the rest of the bystanders to feel justified. They started walking towards the priest threateningly, finding improvised weapons around them.

Belle stood in front of the priest, trying to shove him out of the entrance. “Come on. Time to go.”

Despite his thin stature, he easily overpowered Belle. She couldn't move him an inch. “Run away from them? Ha! I’d like to see them try to win against the power of the Iron Lady.” He stood in place, a smug expression over his face.

Belle looked at him with her eyebrows scrunched together. She hadn’t realized that he’d been this stupid. With a brief exhale, she turned around to face the rapidly approaching crowd. “Wait!”

To her surprise, they did. Several people stuck her with piercing glares, but all of them stopped. The audience seemed to be wary, staying several feet back, as though she was going to pull a sword out of her sleeve and stab them all.

That wasn’t completely false. If things got too hairy, she was probably going to have to pull out some magic. She wasn’t going to let somebody be lynched and just watch. There was just one problem with that.

Belle grimaced and looked behind her. The priest gazed over his potential murderers with smugness, not a fear in the world. She doubted that he would be so calm if she revealed that she could use magic. He would have an absolute conniption if he realized she was a witch.

On the other hand, the people in front of her probably wouldn’t hate her. In fact, she would be far more likely to survive if they knew that she didn’t want to kill all the magic users.

The options weighed themselves in her mind, but she came to a conclusion rather quickly. With a deep frown, and a sigh, she said, “Everybody. There’s no need to kill me. I’m a--”

“STOP!” Yet another voice came from behind the priest, shutting Belle up before she could reveal her secrets. While she was grateful, she couldn’t help but feel like this was the least hidden black market ever.

A man in hardened leather armor strode in front of the priest with calculating precision, followed by four other soldiers, holding pristine spears. His face was sharp and angular, his eyes scanning the crowd with scorn. “Guardsman Alan, what does this look like?”

The crowd’s eyes gathered on the soldier directly behind the leader. Alan had shame written clearly on his face, refusing to meet the eyes of the crowd. “The Market, Lieutenant.”

“Which market?” His voice was had a strange, dangerous softness to it.

Alan hesitated. He gulped, and said, “I don’t know.”

The Lieutenant gave him a look, and turned his glare back to the rapidly dissolving mob. “Don’t think that you can run away. I have this place surrounded.” He took a step towards them, and they collectively moved backwards. “Attempted murder, blasphemy, and most of all…” He picked up a small, enchanted item on the floor. “Sales without the permit of the city.”

Everybody, including Belle, blinked in confusion. That was unexpected. She had the man pegged as somebody who would follow the rules to a tee, and it looked like everybody else did too.

Only the priest was unhappy about this development. Spittle flew out of his mouth, and he yelled, “What!? On behalf of the Iron Lady herself, I demand that you--”

“Alan, please shut Priest Damian up.” The Lieutenant said curtly.

The guardsman smiled for the first time since he arrived. “With pleasure.” Indeed, it did seem like he took a great deal of joy in punching the priest in the face. Damian, as Belle now knew he was called, hit the ground with a solid thump and a bloody nose. Still very much breathing, however, considering his high-pitched yelps.

“Now, back to business.” The Lieutenant commanded everybody’s attention. “I am fining everybody involved in this situation. I expect the correct amount to be paid within one week.” The audience, not quite captive, was silent, as though they were unsure whether they should groan in disappointment or sigh in relief. “And you.” He swiveled on his back foot to face Belle.

“Me?” She asked in disbelief. This entire sequence of events had been rather disconcerting, and it was a shock to be addressed directly.

“Yes. I expect that you’re a Burner?” The word was said with derision. “I wish to speak with you. In my office, privately.” He started walking past her. Giving a nod to the rest of the soldiers, he gestured towards the market. “Clean the rest of this up. I expect every citizen involved to be given the proper fine, and this entire matter to be swept under the rug. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Came the resounding response, and the soldiers went to work. Belle watched as they inspected each citizen, whipping out little pads of paper and signing them. They looked like apprentice bureaucrats, albeit bureaucrats with deadly weapons.

Belle, after a second of thought, followed the Lieutenant. She wasn’t sure what she was in for, but she was pretty sure that she was in trouble.