Ellis nearly broke the door as he burst through the entryway and into the shop.

“MARY!”

“Ellis!”

He spun around to the sound of her voice. Thankfully she was unharmed.

“What happened!?”

Mary had just made it to the balcony ladder and was doing her best to climb down without falling.

“He took it!”

“Who!?”

“It was that boy! From the street! The pickpocket!”

Ellis remembered the little boy’s face from that day.

“ELLIS!”

Torren had reached the doorway now and was charging toward him. Ellis didn’t stop to think about it. Instead, he rushed through the store, jumping over benches and tearing past overflowing shelves. Ellis crossed the threshold of the front door, running so fast that he practically jumped out onto the street.

Several dozen passersby stopped and backed away when they saw him. Ellis jogged a few feet forward and whipped around, searching frantically for the little boy. Then he saw him— running through the crowd toward the north end of town.

There was an argument brewing in the shop behind him, but he didn’t stay long enough to hear it.

“MOVE! GET OUT OF THE WAY!” he shouted as he sprinted down the street.

Ellis screamed as loud as he could, waving his arms frantically while he ran.

It was an effective strategy to get people to clear the way, but it also alerted the boy. When he turned around to see what the noise was, he and Ellis locked eyes. Instantly, the boy recognized him; his face twisted in panic and he became pale. The boy scrambled over himself and continued running down the street even faster than before.

Ellis gritted his teeth as he chased after him, stamping his feet into the ground with each stride, propelling himself forward. His breath quickened and his whole body tensed. Little by little he got closer to the boy, and soon enough he was right behind him.

“AGH!”

Ellis gave one last thrust off the ground and launched himself forward. He found his target, wrapping his arm around the boy’s neck. Ellis pulled him close and with his other hand he grabbed the boy’s shoulder and held him in place.

“Gimme what you stole!”

“No!”

“Give it!”

“NO!”

“You little shi—!”

In a flash, something rushed Ellis from the side, separating him from the boy and lifting him off the ground. Ellis fell hard and felt a pain in his side.

“Timmy!”

Ellis sprang off the ground and returned to his feet— spurred to anger at the sound of that familiar voice.

Torren was standing in front of him with a wild look in his eyes. The little boy named Timmy was behind him, clutching to his shirt.

“Don’t you touch him.”

This wasn’t a request. It was a fact. Ellis could see; for Torren, this wasn’t just some mission. He had the look of a wild animal backed into a corner, ready to bite, claw and tear its way out of trouble no matter the cost. Ellis realized instantly why Torren had seemed so familiar to him on the day they had met.

“You’re brothers!?”

Neither of them said a word, but Ellis already knew the answer.

“Guards! Someone call the guards!”

“Quick!”

There was a crowd gathering now. The streets were busy this time of the day and they were near to the center of the market district. It would be only a matter of time before Rothwell’s Militia showed up.

“Admit it,” Ellis said, standing up tall and wiping the blood from his scraped chin.

Torren was too angry to speak. He simply stood there, clutching his little brother close to him.

“Ellis!”

Mary came running over, pushing through the onlookers who had started to form a circle around the three combatants. Torren shot her a look and she stopped dead in her tracks. In a second she judged the scene, and Ellis could see by her face that she had begun to understand.

“They’re brothers. They’ve been working together to steal from Byles.”

“No!”

The little boy named Timmy cried out as kids often do when they are guilty.

Murmurs of ‘thief’ and other accusations began to circulate through the crowd.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

“Admit it!” Ellis cried out to them. “You tried to steal from us that day! You’ve been stealing from Byles! And you stole my necklace!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Torren growled.

Ellis glared at him.

“Give it back,” Ellis demanded as he took a few steps forward. “Now.”

Torren stood his ground and puffed up his chest, holding Ellis’ gaze with as much ferocity as he could muster. When it was clear that Ellis did not intend to back away, Torren did the only thing he was able to. He slowly pushed his little brother away from him and faced off against Ellis.

Ellis began to run through his training, starting first by calming himself down the way he had learned to do. He was in the middle of deciding how best to strike when Torren suddenly ran forward, yelling and drawing back his fist.

Ellis stepped back, avoiding the hit, letting the arm swing passed him. Ellis ducked down and drew up his fists, expecting another attack at the opening he had foolishly left in his retreat…but the attack never came. Torren simply stood there— panting.

“THEY’RE OVER HERE! TORREN! ELLIS!”

Ellis could see a break in the line of people as Lester managed to shove his way through; immediately behind him was Jerg.

“FUCK YOU!”

Ellis snapped back to the fight all too late.

He took Torren’s punch directly to his jaw. He felt a jolt of pain, but he was able to recover himself. It wasn’t as if it didn’t hurt, but compared to the training post, this was something he could manage.

“STOP YOU TWO!”

Jerg’s voice was full of desperation and concern, but it was not enough calm either of them down.

Torren kept swinging at Ellis, who found it easier and easier to avoid each attack. Compared to the well placed, meticulous and precisely devastating blows from Telhari, Torren was sloppy. And, as the seconds rolled by, he was becoming sloppier and sloppier.

Jerg stood there, blood still dripping from his face, cursing himself under his breath.

“Lester. Please.”

Lester turned to him. Jerg wore a complicated look of self loathing and desperation.

“I can’t stop them,” Jerg said as he held up his wounded arm, “So I need you to do it. Before—”

Just then a loud clanging sound came from a few yards away. From above the heads of the onlookers, Jerg could see spearheads bouncing up and down as they approached the crowd.

“Shit!”

“Militia!?”

Jerg ran off suddenly towards them.

“Lester! I’ll try and hold them off!”

Lester nodded at Jerg and jumped into the fray.

Torren had his hands wrapped around Ellis’ waist and was trying to pull him down to the ground. Ellis, who knew at this point that he was stronger, held his ground.

“Give it back!”

“FUCK YOU!”

Ellis drove his elbow into Torren’s back. The boy cried out in pain, but refused to let go.

“STOP YOU IDIOTS!”

Torren tried to throw Ellis to the side, but Ellis continued to resist. Lester rushed forward and pushed himself between them, grabbing Torren’s shirt and shoving Ellis’ chest, using all his strength to push them apart.

“Go AWAY Lester!”

“This is between the two of us,” Ellis agreed.

“Is it now!?” Lester looked furiously between the two panting boys. “Cause right now, Jerg is over there risking his own ass to keep those guards from gutting BOTH of you!”

The two of them finally took notice of their surroundings for the first time since the fighting had started.

There were over fifty people at least, standing around them, all clamoring to see what was going to happen. Behind the mob of street goers, there were men shouting words that neither of them could make out.

“Torren…” Lester held out his hand to the boy. “Is it true?”

“What?”

“Have you…been stealing from Byles?”

There again, a murmur of contempt and disapproval spread like a venomous cloud through the mob. Torren could feel their glaring eyes pierce into him: eager to tear him apart, strip him bare and drag him kicking and screaming into the searing light of their judgement.

“WHAT OTHER CHOICE DO I HAVE!?”

Torren felt tears burning at the corner of his eyes; the look of condemnation on Lester’s face made all the more real his feelings of self loathing.

“That’s enough!”

A tall man in brown dress and thick leather armor came bursting through the crowd. He wore a shirt over his armor with the initials of mayor Julian Rothwell.

“That boy has been accused of thievery. He will be tried in Mayor Rothwell’s court.”

Before he could get any closer, Lester put himself between the guardsman and Torren.

“Please! This is a misunderstanding.”

“Step aside.”

“Please!”

The guardsman tightened his gripped on the polearm.

Before he could act, Lester had brought his knee in between the man’s legs and landed an elbow across his face.

“TORREN, RUN!”

Torren ran as fast as he could toward his little brother, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him close. But as they turned to run towards the alleyway, they found themselves blocked by a wall of townsfolk. The citizens looked down their noses at the two boys— dirty, unkempt and guilty of the crime of existence.

Torren was overflowing with rage and he could barely control his voice as he cried out.

“MOVE!”

However profound their judgement was, it was not greater than their fear for their own well being. And so several people backed away to make space for them to pass. Torren could hear Lester struggling with the guard, but he swallowed every urge to go back and help him. With Timmy in his grip, Torren started running toward the alleyway.

“GET BACK HERE!”

Torren felt a jolt and lost his breath as Ellis grabbed him from behind. He heard the cloth of his shirt tear as Ellis yanked him back and threw down. Torren hit the ground and rolled onto his back, gasping for air.

“Leave him alone!”

Timmy jumped at Ellis like a wild animal, pulling on his clothing and ripping at his hair. Ellis tried to push him off gently, but the boy only became more vicious. Ellis felt a sharp pain as the boy clawed his nails across Ellis’ skin. In a fit of anger, fueled by stinging pain, Ellis grabbed the boy, ripped him away and threw him onto the ground.

“TIMMY!”

Torren knew nothing else in that moment but the total suffocation of white-hot fury. He scrambled on all fours to where Lester was, and while the guard was preoccupied, Torren grabbed at his belt and tore away the sword from it’s sheath.

With that, there came a silence.

Torren could feel the ripple of fear move beyond him, seeping from one person to the next as their eye’s widened.

He was no longer something they could ignore.

No longer a mindless animal they could scoff at.

Even the guardsman stopped struggling with Lester as his attention was now focused on Torren.

Yet even as Torren drank in the satisfaction of their fear for him, there was still one thing that kept him from achieving a complete victory. The only person who seemed to be unwavering was Ellis.

He was not drawing away in fear or hesitation.

Ellis stood there, with the same face as before. Only this time, he too had a sword in his hand.