“Von, what the hell are you scheming now?” The voice belonged to Lloyd, my partner in crime. I met his amber-colored eyes. I reached over and mussed his dusty black hair. He smacked my hand away and I chuckled softly.

Lloyd wore black, banded-leather armor, dark-tan pants and undershirt, and a long, dark grey-blue hooded cape. He had on leather gloves and boots as well.

We’ve been working together for a few years now, and although he’s only a year younger than me, at twenty-four years old, he acts as though he’s got the right to admonish me for my behavior. Unbelievable.

Though, to be fair, he did keep me out of trouble just as often as he saved me from it.

And, if I am still being fair, I do tend to be the instigator of my own troubles.

I’d never admit it to him, though.

“Eh,” I mumbled noncommittally.

That earned jab to the kidneys. There was some force behind it, too. I reeled, clutching my sides. “Ow! Fuck, Lloyd! That hurt!” I fumed.

Saying nothing, he instead stared daggers at me. Yikes. I’ve seen that look before, it meant ‘quit messing around or I’ll be giving your dinner to the brats.’ Scary.

“Alright, alright,” I acquiesced, throwing my hands up in surrender. “You saw that group of newbie mercenaries? I just need you to distract the scout girl for a second.”

He nodded, having quickly guessed my intentions.

We stepped out onto the busy street. It was only a few minutes ago that I had first spotted a group of people dressed like mercenaries. They were far too relaxed, not at all worried about being pickpocketed. The one with the fat bag of coin was, judging by the quiver and bow on her back and padded armor, the ranger.

Lloyd walked along side the group, while I tailed behind the ranger. I gave Lloyd a subtle gesture, and he got the group’s attention. While they were distracted, I deftly liberated the pouch from its oblivious owner, hiding it beneath my cloak.

I saw the scout stiffen. Crud, time for the backup plan. I shoved the scout over and dashed towards the nearest alley. Before I entered it, I threw a pouch over my shoulder. This was one I had prepared earlier; it was filled with scraps of metal, but the top was covered in a layer of coins.

The idea was that, rather than chase the thief, the victim would want to recover their money first. No one wants to leave their cash laying around to go chase some thief through his home turf.

Thankfully, that’s exactly what happened. The foolish ranger, having been the first to react to my escape, hesitated when she saw ‘her bag of coin’ tossed in the opposite direction. Without looking back, I sprinted through the alleys, taking a circuitous route to throw off any potential pursuers.

After a few minutes of sprinting through the narrow, twisting backstreets of the city, I finally slowed to a stop. Cold air stung my throat as my lungs burned and muscles screamed. I bowed over, hands on my knees, heaving in and out.

I had pushed myself for a simple reason. If I got caught, I could have been killed, I probably would have been killed, seeing as there was already a warrant out for my arrest.

Eventually, my heartrate returned to a normal level, and the pain suffusing my body subsided. It was time to join back up with Lloyd. I scaled the side of a brick building, scurrying up the sloped roof. Using the vantage it provided, I scanned the surrounding rooftops for Lloyd.

There. I spotted a figure standing on a sloped roof, gripping a lattice of iron bars securing a rooftop window from unwanted intruders. I made my way over to him. Even after many years of thievery, the thrill of leaping over what would be a three- or four-story drop, the uncertainty that gives birth to exhilaration as you make contact with tile or stone, those feelings never went stale, every experience was as fresh and clear as the first.

Lloyd took notice of my approach, meeting me halfway, waiting on a stone building with a flat roof.

“Glad to see you alive and well,” he said, arms folded. “Did you-”

He stopped talking when I wordlessly presented the bag, smirking.

“Almost feel bad for them,” he said.

“Yeah,” I replied. “But they really should have known better than to carry all that gold in plain view. It’s fortunate that we were the ones to teach them the ways of the world.”

Lloyd gives me a somewhat pained expression.

He probably thought back to when we had to sleep on the street, starving, curled up and praying that it wouldn’t rain. It’s not a fate either of us would wish on our worst enemy. “If you’re still feeling torn up about it, then why don’t we give them just enough for a few nights at an inn? I’ll have one of the runts take care of it,” I offered.

Funds secured, I split off from Lloyd, as we each had our own errands to run. Lloyd went to go check up on the kids and have one of them deliver the aforementioned coin. I wanted to go check out a new bookshop that had opened up not too far from where we were now.

Books were expensive things, usually only the very wealthy could own them. Scholars were the only other ones who handled books, and even then, no academy library I knew of would permit the borrowing of their materials.

Well then, what happens when a shady-looking man enters a store that caters to high-class customers? The most common reaction is that whoever is on duty will immediately leave to retrieve the manager who first politely urges the shady man to leave before threatening to call for the city guards.

I, however, have ingratiated myself with the bookshop owners of the city.

A nervous-looking young woman approached me, announcing herself as the store’s manager before she requested with stilted, stuttered speech that I vacate the premises.

“I must apologize for not introducing myself first,” I bowed. “My name is Von, and I am a frequent patron of the city’s bookshops,” I informed her in a polite tone.

She bit her lip, conflicted about whether or not to believe my words. Now for the final nail in the coffin. “Are you yet acquainted with Sir Elric? He runs the shop over on Caletry street and is an avid fan of poetry.”

Her eyes went wide, nodding. “My apologies, I shouldn’t have assumed your intentions solely based off of your appearance,” she said, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

“No, you did the right thing. In fact, I should be the one to ask for forgiveness; I was the one dressed like a common thief,” I chuckled softly. Then my tone grew serious. “Though, you should be more careful. There are those who would fly into a rage upon being accused a criminal. You shouldn’t approach suspicious individuals before they cause trouble, and before you do so, you should first send an assistant to fetch the guard.” I didn’t want to have a precious bookstore close due to a preventable mistake.

The owner thanked me profusely before taking her leave, disappearing through a door behind the counter.

The store itself was clean and well lit, but it lacked the comforting smell of parchment and ink. Oh, well. I wasn’t planning on staying here long. I browsed the shelves for anything that stood out to me. My main interests were in studying the histories of various countries, stories from mythology, and the occasional romance story.

I wasn’t particularly interested in academics but reading about all the crazy stuff that happened all over the world was pretty fun. I enjoyed the stories about ancient heroes and their journeys for much the same reason as I enjoyed history.

Death was preferable to letting other discover my love for romantic literature. On several occasions, Lloyd had nearly uncovered the secret after having snuck up behind me while I was engrossed in my reading.

Unfortunately, the bookshop had nothing new of interest. It seemed this store mostly catered to young scions studying for their academics. There were books on local history, numbers, religion, and social politics, all of which bored me to tears. I sighed quietly to myself before exiting the shop.

On the way home, I stopped by the market to purchase some dinner for the kids. Bread, cheese, and even meat, it was a bit pricey, but I was in a pretty good mood, all things considered.

It was nearly sundown by the time I rounded the corner that led to our street.

If you asked a hundred people to describe this place, a hundred of them would say, “It looks miserable, why would you ever want to live there.” Of course, I was also included in that group. No one wanted to live here, there was just no where else to go, other than sleeping out on the streets.

Trash and sludge clogged the edges of the road, there were puddles of muddy water everywhere, the buildings looked like they’d collapse at any moment, and the people weren’t much better themselves. They looked lifeless, not even a glimmer of joy in their eyes. The sad truth was, even if I tried my damnedest to help these people, they’d either slip right back down to poverty, or someone would drag them there themselves. These sorts of problems can only be fixed by the people running the city, and they don’t give a damn about us.

Our home was the same as those surrounding it; a ramshackle two-story building with boarded up windows and cracks spider webbing all along the walls. The wooden beams supporting the structure were so old and brittle that they were beginning to disintegrate.

I knocked on the door in a specific rhythm; a code we used to let the kids know it was us, and let myself in. I wiped my boots down with a rag so dirty I couldn’t tell if I wasn’t just coating them in another layer of mud.

The interior of our home was marginally better, the floors weren’t too dirty, and the walls had a relatively fresh lair of mortar for insulation. We had enough money to fix the place up some more, but Lloyd and I were worried that would attract unwanted attention and put the kids at risk.

A few years ago, Lloyd and I had taken in a handful of orphans who showed a talent in thievery and the like. We wanted to help out the community in some way, and we figured that the best thing we could do is teach a few kids the skills needed to survive on the streets, provide them a home, and in return they would do the same for the next generation. Our hope was that this place would keep functioning even without us, with the older kids bringing home food and teaching the younger ones the necessary skills and knowledge to be a successful thief.

Currently, we’ve taken in four kids: Anna, Gilbert, Dimos, and Ulbert. The oldest is twelve years old and the youngest is seven. Each of them had been living out on the streets, lucky to have something to eat every other day. We took in the ones that were stealing food to survive. Those were the ones who had the will to live, the desire to survive by any means necessary. They wouldn’t give up easily.

As we worked with them, spending a bit of time each day teaching them the ins and outs of thievery, Lloyd and I had noticed that each of them had a particular talent or proficiency. Anna, for instance, is a natural at handling a blade, while Dimos’s eyes are arguably even sharper than mine.

The most important lesson, we drilled them on so often I swore they started muttering it in their sleep: pick your targets carefully. Lloyd and I have both seen our fair share of associates piss of the wrong guy and end up a corpse in some back-alley gutter.

I didn’t have to wait long for Lloyd to show up with kids in tow. Lloyd had sent Ulbert, the oldest of the bunch, to deliver the pity-money to the mercenaries. Everyone was in good spirits, having been told of our exploits earlier in the day. They loved hearing about our criminal adventures for some reason. We would, of course, leave out the more violent bits from our tales.

Lloyd finished talking with the kids, pulling me into the hall with a worried expression. “Anna ran into some trouble,” he informed me.

He repeated what Anna had told him; that she had accidently shoulder-checked a scary-looking man. She tried to apologize, but the guy kept screaming insults at her. In other words, he was complete trash. Lloyd hadn’t been too far away, so when he heard the yelling, he rushed over. The man was so worked up, he reached for his weapon, some kind of mace or bludgeon. Lloyd kicked at the back of the man’s knees, knocking him to the ground. He scooped up Anna then ran.

“Where was this?” I asked, oddly calm. Lloyd’s face twisted at my icy words.

“Von,” he shook his head. Where I was reckless and impulsive, he was calm and measured. “I hate the guy as much as you do, but you know it’s best not to pick a fight unless absolutely necessary,” he pleaded.

But I never intended to get in a head-to-head fight with him. I always played dirty. Tricks, traps, tools, anything goes in a fight to the death. Of course, that didn’t mean I was planning to kill this guy, I was just planning to teach him a lesson instead.

“I’ll be careful,” I promised.

Lloyd bit his lip. “I’m coming with you as backup,” he stated.

“Yeah, of course,” I smiled.

It would only take a single moment, a single mistake, and it would all go wrong. I had always extolled the importance of carefully selecting your targets, ensuring you knew exactly what they were capable of, never making enemies you couldn’t beat or escape from.

…

It was twilight, just enough light to see with, but also dark enough to hide easily. From the shadows I hid in, I threw a bola at the thug’s legs, striking him from behind. “Huh?!” he cried out before toppling forward, slamming face-first against the stone road of the backstreet.

Crack; the sound of his nose breaking on impact, probably. He howled in pain as he tried to get to his knees. I pounced, taking out my dagger.

The plan was simple: all I had to do was press the blade against his throat and he wouldn’t have any way to fight back.

Except, he somehow knew exactly where I was. He whirled around, pivoting on his knees, and grabbed my outstretched arms by the wrists.

“Shit!” I exclaimed. I didn’t have the strength to escape. I heard Lloyd rushing towards us. Then the man squeezed. I felt pain, horrible, agonizing pain as the bones in my wrist were crushed to pieces. I screamed, my whole body going limp.

“VON!!!” I heard Lloyd scream. The thug released his grip on me, and I collapsed to the ground, barely even conscious.

I peeled my eyes open, an action I soon regretted.

Lloyd had taken out a short sword and was trying to circle around to me but was blocked by the thug who was now brandishing his bludgeoning weapon.

Lloyd attempted a feint, leading his opponent in one direction only to move in the other, but miscalculated. The thug saw through it, and intercepted Lloyd, smashing his weapon down on Lloyd’s right shoulder.

Lloyd groaned in pain as he collapsed to the ground. The Thug turned and gave me a wicked, vile grin before taking another swing at Lloyd’s head. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to watch as the man I loved had his skull caved in.

Everything went hazy. It was as if all the energy had drained out of me. I couldn’t even bring myself to feel sad or angry. Just… nothing. My thoughts ground to a halt. Nothing but an empty shell, now.

I heard footsteps approaching. A snarling, contemptuous voice whispered in my ear. “Dumbass. A worthless thief like you got what you deserved, picking a fight with the wrong guy,” he scoffed.

Using the last of my energy, I cursed him. “F-Fuck… y-y… ou…,” I snarled.

“Hmph.”

Then I sensed the end was coming. I’m sorry, Lloyd. I screwed up.

A brief moment of pain was the last thing I felt before my mind slipped away, leaving me in a vast nothingness.

Movement.

A destination, but where?

I would never reach it. I knew this. It was a forgone conclusion. But still, I had to try.

I could feel myself breaking apart, cracking, bits and pieces of me falling away.

Just a bit more, then I would stop.

A bit further.

I crossed a threshold, and the void melted to reveal a new world.

I was weak, having lost much of myself in the journey. I couldn’t move. But I felt it; the beating in my chest. With that, awareness slowly washed over me. I was laying down, and I could hear the ambient noise of a city in motion. Muffled conversations and laughter and footsteps all overlapping each other to create an all-too familiar discordant melody.

I felt numb, like when my leg falls asleep, but all over my body. I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar sight. Above the rooftops, blobs of light faded in and out of existence. Unable to comprehend the scene before me, I simply laid there, staring at the sky. It felt like a dream, but a part of me knew it was true.

Yes, a part of me knew. I had died. Memories flooded my mind.

Fuck me, I really am dead, aren’t I?

Then I remembered something else, someone else.

Panic overwhelmed the numbness, and adrenaline gave me the strength to sit up and whip my head around, searching for-

Only a few feet away, laying on his back, eyes closed, was Lloyd. I breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t appear to be injured, even though I knew he had taken a blow to the shoulder.

Taking a closer look, I noticed something odd.

At first, I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me. There was… something, moving around his body. Whatever it was, I’d need to lean closer to see it.

Dust?

Curiously, his body emitted floating particles of fine, gray dust. They swirled through the air, gradually vanishing into nothingness.

I held up a fist. Yep. I was in the same state, extremely fine particles of dust radiated from me. I waved my hand around, watching the dust swirl around in the resulting air currents. Rubbing my fingers together, I could feel the dust, virtually imperceptible unless I was paying close attention to it.

A nearby noise snapped me to attention, “Ugh,” Lloyd groaned.

“Lloyd!” I shouted. He was awake! I took his hand, clutching it between two of mine.

“Von?” he said, sounding half asleep.

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, uh…” I started. “I think we’re dead. Like, we were killed.”

His eyes shot open at the words. “Huh?” he mumbled incredulously. I waited patiently for him to get his bearings and get his thoughts in order.

Lloyd’s eyes went wide, and he squeezed my hand. “Oh Von, I-I… ,” he stammered, choking on his words. I could see tears start to form at the corners of his eyes. “I was so… when I saw that you were going to die, and I couldn’t do anything about it, something in me just... broke. I-,” his words cut off abruptly as I pulled him into a hug.

“It’s alright, Lloyd. I’m here,” I comforted him. “Wherever here is,” I snorted.

“Hehe,” he laughed weakly in response. Cmon, cheer up… What else did I have to say in order to keep him from crying?

“Don’t blame yourself, Lloyd,” I continued. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should have listened when you said it was too dangerous. Please, forgive me,” I pleaded.

Lloyd hugged me tighter.