Eyes focused, breathing quick behind his mask, Herzju prepared himself. The hulking body of Koutan, his gang leader, stood before him. The four others behind him shifted, masks like his upon their faces, limbering themselves as they preparing to sprint, the faster they got in they less chance they had a guard would stumble by, or worse, another gang.

“Time to feast.” The Koutan says, long white beard swinging with his mouth, sliding the feline mask down onto his face. The smiling, three-eyed face of the Jinkat.

“Time to feast.” They all repeat, masks of their own upon their faces. And sucking in one more breath, Koutan rolls around the corner, and bounds forward towards the house, the rest of the Emerald Jinkats in fast pursuit. Their feet ring out into the night, the stars their only audience, the wind their only voice.

Above them, the massive Heart Tree looms over the city of Xinstad from its center, long branches reaching across the open night sky. Lights from the rooms within its huge trunk twinking. Atop its branches, airships tied to the docks sway in the breeze, casting long shadows across the city’s jagged rooftops. They quickly made their way to the door, the others fanning out around it as Herzju approached, blades drawn.

He looked up to a window as he neared a door, imagining the people within. The little girls Baorem had claimed the father had talked about to that merchant, snuggled up in their bed, dreaming of a new life. Hope in every small, innocent breath. Hope that was about to be ripped away.

He smashed the empathy within himself, scolding it for coming out again. Empathy had no place on the streets of Xinstad, much less a raid. This wasn’t Herzju’s first raid, in fact, he had lost count of all the raids he had done in past six years that he had been with Koutan and the others. So he hated that he still felt bad for doing it each time. But he couldn’t let that stop him, this is how Xinstad’s gangs work after all, and if was going to survive in this dark world among the streets, he would have to kill any empathy and kindness he had first.

With a deep breath, Herzju steps back, wiping sweat from his brow. Cracking his knuckles, Herzju prepares himself for what he is about to do. He inhales deeply, reaching deep inside himself. It burns as he touches it, wrapping and biting and gnawing at his body. He breathes deep, and with invisible hands, he pulls it out. Power. Raw and burning. An invisible fire once contained within his flesh, now expanding along wooden walls. Herzju felt all of it, every nook and cranny, every drop of water. All now within his reach. Herzju closes his eyes, feeling it flow all around him like waves on the Yinstrom, waiting. His eyes flash open behind the mask, and like a seamstress with a needle.

They weave.

The power moves and churns following Herzju’s every command, diving themselves into the keyhole, pushing and pulling on its mechanical innards. And with a satisfying click, the door unlocks. They all pour in like water to a cup, making as little noise as possible.

The group broke off, Ming, Boarem, and Axin running down the hallway to what they scouted as the storage room, while he, Lybaan and Koutan bounded up the stairs to the bedroom. Already he could hear the voices of the little girls coming from the room above, confused and afraid, as they woke suddenly to the sound of pounding feet. So innocent.

Koutan reached the door first, waiting a second for Lybaan and Herzju, then with one swift movement, he slammed his foot into the door. It splintered open, huamwood cracking and breaking to reveal the trio that Baorem had told them about.

In the corner, huddled atop the small bed, two girls, cling to each other in fear. Eyes wide, breaths deep. And in front them, stood a man in ragged sleeping garments, holding his left arm to cover his daughters in some puny defense, and the other holding a rusted knife.

“Don’t fucking come in!” The man bellows, fear shaking in his voice, breaking it into a squeaking mess.

“We don’t want to,” Koutan said, hands up, trying to keep the man calm. “Just stay where you are and none of you will get hurt.”

“That’s bullshit,” He screeched. “You’re just going to steal all or qeild and leave us on the streets!” Koutan looked down at that, said nothing. “They’re just children,” The man says, waving to the behind him, now shaking with fear and anger. “You’re leaving them for dead!”

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“You need to back the fuck off,” Lybaan says, stepping in beside Koutan. Herzju quickly following onto the other side. The man stumbles backward, watching the trio with cold, frightened eyes.

A crack sounded on the floor below, clearly of a door leaving its hinges. There was a loud crack from the floor beneath them, a door leaving its hinges. "Daddy I'm scared," one of the girls cried. The man turned back to look at his girls, then back at the trio in the door.

"Why? Why do you people do this?" The man shaking asks, knife warbling, lips trembling. "We're so close to escaping this hellhole of a city, so close to giving my girls a new life." He chokes, swallowing. "They wanted to fly airships in Kongstad, become priests in the cathedrals of Jingstad, all we needed was a little more qield to buy a ticket..." He shook his head. "Now all they're ever going to be is on the streets." He swallows again, tears falling from his eyes. "All I ever wanted was for them to be happy..."

"Don't we all..." Koutan murmurs slow.

"You know nothing of happiness," The man shouts. "You know nothing of hope. All you know is how to steal and kill."

Koutan doesn't say anything to that, dropping his guard.

The man lunges, swiping his blade with a shuddering hand.

“Koutan!” Lybaan screams. But by the time the man slices the air, it's too late. Koutan tries to duck out of the way and narrowly misses the blade, but the butt of the knife comes next, hitting him across the time and knocking him to the floor. Lybaan jumps out of the way, Herzju ducks under the blade in a sweeping motion, the blade slicing through the air above him.

“You bitch!” He hears Lybaan scream, unsheathing her knife. Herzju does the same.

The man is going in for the kill on the unconscious Koutan, running at him with his blade raised above his head, and Herzju runs over to Koutan’s side, holding his knife up to the man. Lybaan lunges at the man as he runs, tackling him to the ground. She raises the knife above him, but the man’s fist comes before the knife falls, slamming into her nose. She tumbles back, blood gushing from her nose.

“Kill the fucker, Herzju!” She screams. Herzju stands at Koutan’s side, watching the man scramble up and run towards Koutan, his eyes pure rage, eyes filled with tears.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the girls sobbing in the corner, pleading.

But the man gets closer.

So Herzju slams his fist into the man’s jaw, sending him to the ground, and falling atop him. He pins the man arms down with his legs, staring into his eyes.

The man is shaking his head, tears falling down the side of his blood frail face. Herzju raises the blade high, gleaming in the moonlight outside.

“Please…” The man whispers.

“Kill him!” Lybaan bellows. He looks back at Koutan, injured on the ground.

And with a deep breath, the blade drops.

Blood gushes from his necks, covering Herzju blade and legs as the man convulses on the ground. Herzju, breathing heavily, watches as the man struggle as the blade presses deeper into his throat. He claws and the edges, thrashing his head back and forth, gasping for breath as the scarlet tumbles from his mouth. And finally, Herzju sees it in his eyes, the moment where he had finally given up all hope, using the last of his strength to turn his head to his daughters atop the bed, screaming, wailing, pleading.

Herzju pulls the knife out, flesh swishing on metal, and then sheaths it again.

And then, without a word, runs to Koutan, trying to ignore the sobbing behind him.  He ducks down, slinging one of his arms over his shoulder and pulling him up. Lybaan is quickly on the other arm, helping him drag the man out of the bloody, tear-soaked room.

There was no point of staying to make sure the girls would do anything to stop their raid now.

Slowly, they dragged him down the stairs to a worried Axin below.

“Holy shit, what happened?” He asked, looking over Koutan’s unconscious body.

“Ran into a little trouble.” Herzju answered before Lybaan did. Axin sighed.

“Get him outside, we’ll be out in a second.” Down the hallway, he says Ming and Baorem carrying and filling large bags of qeild and other valuable resources. The big man carrying them out of the storage room, Ming sorting them out and putting them away.

“Okay.” He said, still panting. Lybaan and Herzju silently drag Koutan to the alleyway and set him down carefully. They quickly fall down beside him, tired from the whole ordeal. He could hear the distant caw of bloodcrows, the slosh of the Yinstrom on the shores, the wind, whistling on the roofs above. But then he heard feet, clinking coin.

“Let’s get out of here.” Axin says. Lybaan and Herzju grab Koutan once again and follow the three back into the streets.

The stars their only audience, the wind their only voice. The Jinkat their only smile.