Alder arrived at midday after the longest carriage ride in his life. It took so long he’d stayed a night on the road, sitting by the fire and failing to engage the quiet driver in small talk. At a certain point, the man had said, ever so politely: “Mister Alder, don’t you enjoy the sounds of nature? Let’s listen to them.” which had stifled any more attempts at conversation. But the important thing is that it was over, and he’d made it into the city. To be more precise, just inside what is technically the city limits. They had still not made it inside, as there was a queue of other carriages owned by merchants or other folk trying to get in. It was a busy place, the capital, and Alder couldn’t wait to actually explore it.

So he sat in the back of the carriage, thinking about what he’d do once he got in and counting the tolls of the belltower. It had gone nine times just about when they arrived in line. He was thinking about the Circle of Magic and being able to see great spellworks during the first hour. On the second, he saw a poor-looking man and his mind wandered to what the slums of the city were like; full of cutthroats no doubt. On the third he began to actually come up with something resembling a plan. He’d enter the city and start asking around for some kind of heroic work. Surely someone needed rare materials from the most dangerous of creatures, or had heard a rumour about creepy men in robes performing occult rituals that he could stop.

The cart jumped, shaking Alder, and he noticed that they’d ridden on to the cobbled street. He was in.

He peered out the window, looking at the hundreds of people, the most he’d ever seen in one place, go about their daily lives. It was overwhelming and exciting at the same time. He kept watching as the driver steered the carriage over to a building filled with yet more carriages, horses, and people bickering over which spot was theirs and how much they’d have to pay. Pulling into an empty spot, the driver stepped down and spoke to a bureaucratic-looking man in a simple suit and spectacles. He handed some papers to the driver, he signed them and handed it back along with a few coins, and then he opened the door and raised a slight eyebrow at Alder.

“You coming, boy?” he murmured, and Alder pushed past him and ran out into the street, yelling a hurried “sorry” back once he realized what he’d done. The driver’s lip edged into a small smile as he watched him go.

Alder’s pace slowed after he’d run a short while, enough to leave the stablehouse a fair ways behind him, and he began to look around again. His head swiveled left and right, up and down, ears and eyes and everything taking it all in as he went. He was so absentminded he even bumped into a few people. Most ignored him, it was hard not to get bumped into on these streets. Alder kept going, trying to stay out of everyone’s way, but for a moment he got distracted by the candies on display in a shop window as he walked past it and walked straight into someone.

“Hey, watch it,” said a man around Alder’s age, and spoke with a slight accent unfamiliar to him. He was tall and long-limbed, tank top showing off toned arms, with a dark green scarf around his neck.

“Ah, sorry about that!” Alder hurriedly apologized, and the young man’s look of annoyance turned to curiosity.

“You’re not from around here, are ya?”

“No, I just arrived actually,” Alder rubbed the back of his head, a little embarrassed. “How could you tell?”

“Normally, folk would argue back with me.” He grinned, favouring the right side of his face. “I’m Louie,” he extended a hand to shake.

“Alder,” he replied, and shook it firmly.

“Well, you seem a little out of your element, why don’t I show you around?” he spread his arms slightly, showing his empty palms in a friendly manner.

“I don’t want to bother you,” Alder averted his gaze. The driver had warned him about shady types, and though he was a little suspicious, Louie seemed nice enough.

“C’mon, it’s no bother. Here, I know an innkeeper, he gives me a few coins if I show someone the place. At least let me help you find somewhere to stay the night?” Another friendly grin. How could Alder decline such a nice offer? Maybe he would’ve if it seemed too good to be true, but Louie was a friendly guy just trying to make some money, so it was probably alright.

“Alright, lead the way then.” he said, and followed Louie through the streets.

They walked on the main roads for a bit, then they moved to side roads, before ducking into a winding alley. Alder’s trust in the man waned, at this point. Only someone planning to mug him would take him here, and even if there was an inn, there’s no way it would be anything other than seedy if it was tucked away in a place like this.

Alder placed his hand by his hip, on the pommel of the sword, and felt his muscles—which had tensed without him realizing—relax. The weapon brought with it a certain comfort, a reassurance that he had the skills to make it out if things got dangerous. He kept his eyes out for others, and scanned Louie, who was still cheerfully walking ahead, for weapons. He didn’t spot anything, but he could have a small knife concealed somewhere.

“It’s just around here, my friend,” Louie looked back and grinned, waving his arm in a ‘go-ahead’ gesture towards a sharp turn.

Alder was about to turn back, but decided to have a look around the corner, just to see. If there was an inn, he’d thank Louie for the help and then probably find a slightly nicer place to stay. If there wasn’t, he’d simply head back to the main roads.

Keeping an eye on his guide for any sudden movements, which only got him a curious look in return, Alder stepped ahead, ears and eyes sharp for danger, tensed and ready for anything, hands ready to pull free his blade at any threat. As he took the final step to round the corner, he looked back one last time at Louie, who had begun to follow him and gave a reassuring grin. A noise echoed in the alley, as if someone had begun to charge him for a surprise attack and had bumped something as he came. Alder, in a quick and smooth motion, one he’d practiced for hours on end, unsheathed his blade and whipped his head around to face the danger head on, dropping his bag beside him to wield the weapon with both hands as he had been trained.

His eyes found only an alley piled high with refuse and debris. Confused and still expecting a fight, he looked around. There was no one, and it dead-ended onto the back of a building. He had another, more thorough look for what created the noise, and found it. A pot lay on the ground, flipped over, and having fallen from a mostly-intact crate that had a small block of wood attached to some twine which ran along the wall and down across his feet. He had nudged the string without noticing, causing the wood which had been carefully supporting the pot to dislodge and send it careening into the cobbles.

In the few moments it took for his mind to absorb and process all this, another thing passed unnoticed by Alder, and when he turned to where Louie was, again he was met with air. Air where his bag had been, and the sound of footsteps running back the way they came.

“Oh no,” he muttered, face falling in dismay.

He stayed a moment like that, before his wits came slamming back into him. His face tightened into a frown and he took off running after Louie, sword meeting scabbard as he moved to follow the sound of running footsteps. He had lost precious seconds being dumbstruck, and he needed to get that time back if he wanted his bag, containing the only items he had from his home, back.

He ran hard, putting his trained muscles to work, but Louie was fast too and knew the alleys better. Alder only caught glimpses of his dark green scarf trailing behind him as he rounded corners. The chase kept on for a few minutes, and Alder, breathing heavy now, turned another corner in a countless sea of them.

A dead-end, again. But he’d just seen the scarf dart this way only a few moments ago, hadn’t he? Unless he was a wizard—which he couldn’t be, or he’d have no need of being a petty thief—Louie couldn’t just vanish. A flick out of the corner of his eye, and his eyes traced it. Above him, he’d just caught the scarf going onto a rooftop. Tired as he was, he steeled himself and began to climb, up a crate near the wall, using uneven bricks as hand- and foot-holds, shimmying up a pipe before he was close enough to reach a hand onto the roof. He did so heavily, with a determination rarely seen in people. He would catch Louie. Hard eyes peered over the shingles as he pulled himself up, and finally the man was before him, looking at him stupefied and with the braid of hair in one hand, the other holding the bag open.

Alder climbed fully onto the roof and in the same trained, smooth movement as before, drew his sword. He kept his steely eyes on Louie the whole time, who looked around for a quick escape route, but there was none to be found unless he wanted to risk a straight drop to the street below.

“Give it back,” Alder ordered, and was obeyed. Louie put the hair back in the bag and put it down, backing away with raised hands. Alder advanced, only looking away for a moment to check everything was still there. His pouch of coins was missing. Eyes back on Louie, he took a good look at him. He was quite obviously poor. His clothes were frayed and patched, and though he looked to be naturally skinny, there wasn’t enough meat on him for him to be eating regularly. His eyes were afraid as he looked at Alder, and this unsettled the boy for a reason he couldn’t put his finger on. He thought about the situation, him threatening an unarmed man driven to thievery just to get by, and he was a little disappointed in himself.

He sighed, feeling the adrenaline wear off and the fatigue hit, blade going back to his scabbard and hand resting on the pommel, looking for comfort. He leaned down and picked up his bag.

“Keep the coins,” he said, feeling exhausted, and turned to climb back down the way he came.

“Ah, wait,” Louie stammered, and when Alder looked over his shoulder the man looked a little surprised, as if he expected to be ignored. But he cleared his throat and continued, arms still half raised and the fear moving to the back of his eyes to be replaced with an opportunistic glint.

“Now, this might sound strange, but hear me out.” he said. Alder wavered for a moment, but turned to him fully and crossed his arms, willing to listen.

“You seem a stand-up guy, considering you're letting me keep your money, and you’re definitely capable,” he seemed to relax as he spoke, he was on familiar ground now. “As you can tell, I gotta pick pockets if I want to eat, and there’s a guy who’s after me right now, looking to extort some money out of me.” Alder frowned at this. The guards wouldn’t just let that happen, and he said as much.

“Tell the guards.”

“Well, you see, me and the guards, well we’re not particularly close, right?” Louie rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I’m not gonna ask you to kill the guy or anything, all I need is some money.”

“You’ve already got mine,” said Alder.

“Right, right, but it’s not very much. No offense intended, of course.” he moved his arms in front of him in a placating gesture. “I need more, and I’m sure we’d both prefer I not steal it from anybody, so how about we team up?” he smiled in askance.

Alder raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Only temporarily, of course! I don’t expect you to trust me, or anything, just help me do a few odd jobs around the city, I know some people who could use a hand with a few things, and then we part ways. I’ll even let people know you’re a real nice guy, really talk you up, get you a reputation! How about it?”

Alder stood, unmoving, in thought. He didn’t trust Louie, but he didn’t seem to be lying. Part of him wanted to accept right away, as he’d always done when asked for help back home, but he tried to look at it objectively. It could be a good way to start earning something of a name for himself, which would be nice, but it could also be a trap. But Louie already had all his money, so he wouldn’t get anything by trying to rob him again. Should he or shouldn’t he? Help or don’t? Tell him ‘no chance’ and leave him to his fate? He noticed he’d been thinking for quite a while now, and he’d feel bad not even trying when he was being asked so plainly. He could tamp down on the desire to lend his assistance, but it wasn’t something he could disobey without feeling terrible, even if it was the right choice.

“Alright. I’ll help.”

In the back of his mind, inexplicably, Alder had a good feeling about this.