My smirk from hearing the news about my mother’s pregnancy vanished when they said we were moving.

“Ictar has some contacts from his paladin days that always need people to run security for them,” My dad explained, “while we try to make ends meet, I’ll work for them for a little while. And your mother can take a few extra shifts before her belly gets too big.”

Hestiana stood up, and dropped her head down, “I'll take on a job as well, masters. Please allow me to pay a portion of rent for my stay.”

My mother did not look at her. Instead opting to stare out the window.

My dad looked at her, scratched his head and said, “well, you see, the thing is…” He looked for the right words.

Hestiana dropped her head lower, “I know I made a mistake by letting the little master out on his own. I’m so so sorry. I know another mouth to feed is hard right now, but please, do not send me back yet. I will work for my station here. You will need my efforts when the new child comes. Please do not let this one mistake send me back to the Masters Hezema. I can not return a failure.”

That caused my mother’s attention to drift back to Hesti. My dad was caught off guard by her outburst. He chuckled. Hestiana looked at him confused.

“No, we had no plans to send you back, Hestiana. You’re free to stay for as long as you’d like. But I was just going to say that with all that you do, letting you stay for free is the least we could do. It wouldn't be right for you to get a job somewhere else. The truth is, we… I know this isn’t exactly a mansion in Elfiopia but we consider you family. I know Egen does too. Isn't’ that right, Egen?”

My gears were still turning from the move. They both looked at me, waiting for my reaction.

“Well?” My mother asked.

“Does that mean… I won’t see Clary anymore?” I asked.

My parents exchanged glances, “You’ll see less of her,” my mother said, “Life is better in the Bronze Ring. There’s less chance of marauders. We’re under the Princep’s protection. We will try to let you see her every so often.”

I was still a little flummoxed, but I understood. I bowed and said, “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused, Mother, Father. I’m glad to hear that we will be moving to a place that's safer. And I’m glad to hear Hesti will stay with us. May I lay down now?

My mother and father thanked me for my understanding. I layed down in my bed, staring up at the crack stone ceiling. I’d been looking at that crack since I was born. I could picture every shift in direction and tributary crack. I was going to move to a different location. It would at least be a new adventure. An exciting one at that.

The next week,the move had begun. My father had brought back baskets and twine from his work for us to wrap everything important in. The rest would be sold at a big yard sale.

While their parents perused through what was mostly junk, I recounted my situation to the few other neighborhood boys I spoke to. Most were jealous. They wondered what went on behind that wall. My only experience thus far had been with the Pharaoh.

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“It’s just a bunch of hoity-toity jerks,” I said, “I’m sure it won’t be anything like out here.”

A kid who was blind as a bat looked in my direction, “I hope you don’t forget about us,” he said.

“There’s no way I’ll forget about you guys.” I wasn’t quite sure what that kid’s name was.

Lee, the tall boy who I’d often have wooden sword fights with said, “I’ll be in the Bronze Ring soon! Once I’m a warrior, I’ll fight an army so big, they’ll have to move me and my family into the bronze ring.”

I smiled at both of them. I looked at Clary who was hiding behind a shelf of books that wouldn’t be coming with us. I approached her, “Clary, I’m leaving soon.”

“I heard,” Clary said, “Are you excited?”

I nodded, “Sure.”

“You’ll still see me sometimes, right?” She asked, “My mother has a delivery to make in the bronze ring every so often.”

I nodded again, but I knew. I’ve lived a lifetime before this. I knew that the friends you make when you’re seven are rarely the ones you keep. As much as I would have liked to see her again, I had a pit in my stomach that bordered on clairvoyance. I would drift apart from Clary. The first friend I made in this world. I was suddenly taken back to Milo, a best friend I had when I was six that I’d forgotten. I had known him for one month while his mom lived in the motel next to my house. We said we’d find each other. Our mothers exchanged phone numbers. I wished I could have said bye to him. I looked at Clary as seriously as a seven year old could look, “Clary. Your dream. To be one of the Jade Spiders. Is that still your dream?”

She blushed, as I spilled her secret in earshot of the other boys.

“Yeah but…”

“No buts. You can do this. Start training under a rogue master whenever you have the time. I’ll help you when I can. I’ll try to deliver you books from better merchant sources. I know they’re cheaper in the city. You don’t have to be a baker if you don’t want to. Life isn’t just about laying down and taking it. It’s about fighting. It’s about standing and punching life right in the teeth.”

“There are only eight in the whole world,” She said, “Mother says…”

“Your mother stopped dreaming as big as you, Clary. My mom and dad did the same. Listen to what I’m saying.”

“She wants to be one of the Spider’s legs?”

I turned and saw a snot-nosed punk by the name of Ren looking right at us. He was older than us and no one wanted to play with him. His father owned the lumber yard so they were quite wealthy although the size of the operation meant they had to live out here. He was wearing a robe dyed by a merchant from a different town, Tritora, known for its expensive fabrics. He had been staring at my wooden toy boat my parents had placed for sale. I often played with it while in the bath. It had been my insistence that we save it for the next place but my parents said it was redundant, as I had a wooden toy boat already.

“Why couldn’t she?” I asked.

Ren snickered, “Like she said, there are only eight positions and you have to be the best of the best. Better even. I think you’ll make a great baker, though. Your mom makes the best birthday cakes. I think you should stop filling her head with such dumb ideas. Father says that we need poor peoples’ sons to take over their parents' businesses or who would I order cake from?”

I knew better, but I couldn’t help it. At that moment, he was telling Clary she couldn’t do it. The whole time he talked my fist was balled in anger. When he didn’t stop talking, I leapt over and punched him in the nose. Blood burst out. He looked at his blood and started crying. He ran away, “I’m telling dad!” Fuck off, bitch. I turned back to Clary, just as my parents came to drag me away, “Don’t stop fighting for a better life. Anything else is death.”

I was dragged into the house and punished by my parents. But despite the beatdown I got, I knew Ren learned his lessons. He never told Clary to stick to baking again.