“Sitara, Sitara!” Asana had shouted, over and over until he finally caved and agreed to bring the twins to see his ex. His parents had wanted to hear all about his performance for the Festival of Fading Light, and while he’d edited out some details, he’d let it spill that Sitara had been in the audience.

Now he was trying to keep his cool and be present with his siblings. It was the first time he’d had a chance to take them out between their chores and his work at the inn. It had only gotten harder to find time since he started performing.

They sat upon his shoulders. Asana pointing and shouting directions while Mako giggled at her antics. Carrying those barrels made their weight feel like nothing in comparison. He smiled.

They were still kids. Neither had lost their spark, even after all that had happened.

They reached their old block. The new buildings were nearly done, and it was almost as if the fire had never happened.

“Do we get to go home when it’s finished?” Mako asked.

Ren’s stomach dropped out from under him. Did they still think there was a home to go back to?

He was thankful the twins couldn’t see his face from their perches.

Ren decided to avoid the issue entirely. “Who wants meat buns?”

Asana rocked back and forth in excitement, and he struggled to keep her from tipping off.

When they got to the food stall, Ren weighed his coin purse. It was getting heavy. Garam had started paying him for his work now that the inn was so busy, and he was making decent money in tips.

He’d have to go and check on his family’s debt soon. Hopefully, their work for the Osirus had been cutting into the balance.

But for now, meat buns!

A warmth spread in his chest as he heard the twins mewling in pleasure and delight. Ren had already eaten so he contented himself with smelling the spicy filling of their meal.

But it wasn’t enough to stop his mind from running.

Sitara…

She’d come to see him. Did that mean she still had feelings for him? Could they go back to how things were?

We’ve been promised… parents already agreed.

No. There wasn’t any hope for them. Even if she had feelings for him, he couldn't offer her anything. The match with Sig was a way for her family to rise in standing, to put their roots deeper in the community.

“What's wrong Ren?” Mako gently stroked his hair, much like how their mother did.

He teared up a little. He needed to save them before their hope was crushed out, before the Osirus and the cruelty of being owned wormed its way into their hearts.

He straightened. “I was just wondering how fast we could get there if I ran.”

Then he bolted, eliciting squeals of glee from his sister, and excitement tinged with terror from his brother.

He was panting by the time he got to Sitara’s silk shop. Not wanting to second guess himself, he pushed ahead, straight into the place.

A bell rang as the door opened. That was new.

“I’ll be right with you,” she chimed from the back.

Ren put down his siblings and made sure they wiped the meat grease off their hands before setting them loose. Asana didn’t even scowl at the command to clean up. She really was maturing.

“Ren!” Sitara said. She flushed and fidgeted awkwardly. “Um, what can I do for you?”

“Well,” he said, gesturing to his siblings who were now scurrying around feeling all of the fabrics, “Asana and Mako wanted to see you. I didn’t want to bother you again, but you know how Asana can get.”

Sitara blinked and seemed to realize they were not alone. “What is this?” she cried out, spreading her arms. “Not even a hug, you little devils?”

The twins charged her and they embraced. The pair pawed at her clothes and hair, talking about how pretty she was, and inviting her to come play when their house was finished being repaired.

Thankfully, she didn’t comment on that.

Once they had returned to their exploration of the shop, she turned to Ren. “Ren… I’m sorry about everything. About Sig… I- I want-”

Ren cut her off. “Nothing to be sorry about Sitara. You need to keep living your life.” The next part was the part he really didn’t want to say. “I hope when everything settles down, we can be friends.”

Silence and a sad smile. “Friends then.” Her eyes got a little misty. “Can friends hug?”

She didn’t wait for his response, throwing her arms around him and resting her cheek on his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while. Holding on a little too tight. Both afraid to let go.

Finally, she sighed and they separated. “Don’t be a stranger, Ren.”

Something had released between them, like a tight knot, finally untangled.

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Ren smiled and nodded. He looked at his siblings. The twins were playing. Mako twirled about trailing red and yellow silks, a look of utter joy upon his face. Asana had a shawl tied around her waist like a sword belt, dancing the steps of some elaborate sword form that was no doubt the most powerful technique in the world.

It was time to go.

***

“Out of lamb, sir. Sorry,” the butcher said. “Been lots of attacks on the road. Increase in bandits, and I’ve heard rumors of a spirit beast to the north.”

Ren sighed. Maybe if he hadn’t taken that detour on the way to drop the twins off he wouldn’t be stuck with the last offerings of the market.

“Chicken?” he asked.

The merchant nodded. “Got two dozen left.”

Ren purchased them all. He knew Garam hated serving food without meat in it, and if the roads really were compromised, who knew how hard it would be to find good meat from the countryside in the days to come.

The butcher agreed to deliver the meat to the inn once he closed up shop, so Ren was free to peruse the market a little longer. Though he knew he shouldn’t spend any money he didn’t have to. Saving up to free his family was the number one priority.

“Hey, no-name rat chaser!”

It was Sig. Again. What was wrong with this guy? And didn’t he know any other insults?

But Ren was ready for him this time. He started walking away from Sig, and grinned to himself as he heard the boy and his posse pushing their way through the crowd.

He reached an alley and started running. He had to lead them down into lowtown. He just hoped he could stay ahead of them that long.

*******

Finally.

That bloodthirsty cultivator swine was finally out of the city. Their men at the gates had watched her leave that morning.

Soon enough, the organization would be sending their man to Katarn, and they’d be able to get back at the Osirus.

Basher would finally get that hot coal out of his ass and they could all go back to business as usual.

What would make today even better would be if he could find the Rat-Spy.

“Hey, no-name rat chaser!”

Fish-Lips turned to watch. He always enjoyed seeing the degenerates of the city pick each other apart. It was what separated him from all the scum. It was what would allow him to rise above the rest.

The target of the insult turned and walked away from the group of well-dressed thugs. And Fish-Lips saw his face.

Rat-Spy!

He signed to one of his men to get Basher, then followed the group with the rest of his entourage.

*******

Sig, son of Sig, was surprised how fast the little bean-pole street rat could run. But Sig’s legs were longer, and his father had been training him for the service since he was young.

It was a testament to his feelings for Sitara that he was running through these nasty, filthy alleys.

It was a testament to his own superiority that he caught up to Ren and body-checked him, sending the boy sprawling into a black puddle.

The little foreign shit had the gall to stand up and face him, even as Raffy and Pallan caught up.

He smiled as he remembered holding a younger Ren’s head underwater when the kid had first arrived in the city. Foreigners needed to know their place. They didn’t just get to show up and have it all. The Republic of Ardus was a fair place. You earned your place here, and you could rise. Like Sitara and her family, paying their dues and playing the game. That was what made the Republic better than all those other kingdoms that had formed after the collapse of the empire.

He eyed the puddle and pondered if it would be worth it to get dirty for the sake of making this leech on society take another “swim”.

But then Ren’s eyes moved off of his and widened into unmistakable fear.

Sig spun. More street trash. A wiry guy with puffy lips and stringy brown hair led two more thugs. His smile was grotesque.

“Oooooo. What do we have here?” said the man. “A four for the price of one special?”

“Mmmmm,” the man purred, nodding to himself. “Yes, look at those clothes. I bet there are some full purses here.”

Sig grit his teeth. “Do you know who my father is? If you leave now, I’ll let you go.”

“Oh! Scary. It is a great honor to meet you, son-of-somebody-important,” the man offered an exaggerated bow. “But I think you are misreading the situation. Strip and drop your coin, and we might let you go.”

The two goons pulled out knives and started closing in on him.

Sig dropped into the low stance his father had taught him day after day for years.

Raffy and Pallan backed up behind him. Hopefully they could keep their cool and prevent anyone from flanking him.

As the two approached, Sig pointed his shoulders at the man on the right- then lunged at the man on the left, who wasn’t ready for him.

He gripped the man’s knife hand and twisted his wrist open while throwing a hook that drew power from his full body into the man’s jaw.

The knife clattered to the ground as the thug spun away from the force of the blow, and Sig had just enough time to turn and tuck his stomach in, away from the knife that swung at him.

It traced a hot line across his flesh, and Sig backed farther, bumping into the alley wall.

Then the man fell to his knees with a cry, and Ren was standing there, his foot still outstretched from kicking the back of the man’s leg.

Sig took the opportunity, charging forward and round-housing the man across the head.

He went down and Sig picked up his knife, spinning to face the man with big lips and the lackey who was cradling his jaw.

Sig, son of Sig, snarled. He wouldn’t be taken down by gutter trash like this. His family honor and their martial arts—passed down from father to son since the days of the Red Dragon Empress—demanded victory.

A new man entered the alley. He was big, and well muscled. He walked like a wild cat. The steps of a fighter.

Six cronies followed in his wake. One of them was an even huger man. Almost as wide as he was tall. Fat wiggled across his body, but his steps were powerful, revealing the muscle hidden underneath.

“What do we have here?” said the man in the lead. His face was almost handsome in a hard, cruel kind of way.

But he was looking at Ren, not at Sig.

“So this is the Rat-Spy! Good work Fish-Lips. Wait. I know that face.” He ran a hand along the fur lining of his coat and smiled. “How perfect.”

The man walked forward, then paused, seeming to notice Sig for the first time.

“Got some sand do we?” He took a deep breath then punched sideways into the wall beside him. The bricks splintered and a crack ran halfway up the wall.

A cultivator.

“Unfortunately, you’ve hurt my men,” the man continued. “Otherwise, my good mood might have seen you free of this alley, just a few coins lighter-”

“His dad is a guard captain!” shouted Pallan.

Idiot!

The cultivator smiled. “You can tell him Basher has his son... But now that I’m closer, it looks like the Rat-Spy has put on a little meat.” He looked toward the huge man behind him.

The other man smiled, and his teeth gleamed in a way that Sig didn’t like. “Plump enough to pluck.”

It was a voice that grated on the mind, a voice that made the soul squirm.

Fuck.