It was a scorching day in the final month of summer; the sun mercilessly baked the city streets of Estrela.

The stones used to pave the streets were so hot that walking on them without shoes was painful.

The smell of spices from the south and east spread throughout the market, masking the usual unpleasant smell of city life.

A short boy, not old enough to call him an adult but too old to call him a kid, was making his way through the crowd. He was dressed in a loose gray tunic, which had once been white. His hair was disheveled, resembling chaotic black strands falling in random directions without any order. His name was Zack.

Zack had no problem squeezing through, he had done it many times before. After a while, he found himself in the center of the market.

“5 silver coins!”

“10!”

People shouted, outbidding each other. The center of the market was an auction place. Unfortunately, the auctioned items were slaves, ranging from beautiful elves to strong dwarves, and even fearful orcs.

Today it was orcs.

One of them stood on the stage. Orc resembled a tall human, with elven ears and green skin reminiscent of a rotten cabbage. His muscles were more defined and pronounced. Orc’s eyes were closed, the only sign that he was alive was his rhythmically rising chest.

His hands were shackled in heavy iron chains, fixed to the stage so that he could not even think of an escape. Behind him was a group of his kinsman, also in shackles but tied to each other not to the ground.

Zack froze and gazed at the orc. It was the first time he had seen such a peaceful orc; his terrifying aura was non-existent. It was a lot different from what he had heard about them.

The people in the tavern have claimed that orcs have no fear of death and that they would rather die than be captured alive. They charge into battle like demons, eager for the blood of their enemies. But now that mighty warrior stood on a stage, acting like a sheep without a will to fight, only waiting for a new owner to come.

Zack did not want to even think about the ways in which this terrible goal, of breaking one’s spirit could be achieved. But it still makes him angry. Why would they even do something like this? Isn’t death a mercy at this point?

The guards were positioned near the group of orcs and the stairs to the stage. They were wearing iron armor that covered their entire bodies, leaving only their heads exposed. On their chestplates, they had green tabards with a white ship sewn on them. A crest of the city.

Zack ran into the crowd, gathered under the stage, and quickly found his target.

It was a man who was already middle-aged. Signs of grey in his hair and beard only confirmed it. He was dressed in an expensive white tunic with silver ornaments. At his belt, hung a scabbard with a sword and, just on the other side, a small pouch in which he kept his coins.

Zack’s grey-brown eyes lit up, with a greed and cunningness that should not be seen in boys of his age. His heart began to beat harder, the moment he had been preparing for had arrived.

He no longer tried to squeeze through the crowd but slowly circled the man, looking for a good place to start, this unholy enterprise. With that, he wrapped a gray linen scarf around, covering as much of his face as possible, leaving only the upper parts of his face visible. People around seemed to not pay attention to him, or just simply ignore him.

“20 silver coins!” The man, who was targeted by a young thief, shouted, raising his hand. On one of his fingers was a silver ring.

Zack had already managed to come up behind the man's back, almost clinging to him but keeping a minimal distance.

The man’s attention was focused on a green orc, which he wanted to buy.

Unknowing to him the young thief grabbed the strings of his pouch and began to untie them. The crowd around him was also focused on the auction, paying no attention to what was happening below the stage.

But this didn’t lower the stress that grew in Zack

If he were to be caught, losing his hand would be the lightest of punishments.

“30 silver coins!” A shout from a distance made the man clench his hand as he reached for the pouch, probably to check how many silver coins he possessed.

Zack’s eyes widened, and he stepped backward, quickly hiding his hands that had been near the man’s belt. However, he didn't realize that the pouch had been untied from the man’s belt.

The pouch flew down and hit the stone surface, the coins clinked and the people closest to the incident looked to see what had happened.

Fuck! Zack cursed in his mind and instinctively grabbed the pouch, then made his way through the crowd towards the market exit.

“Thief! Catch him!” The man shouted and dashed in pursuit of the boy.

Some of the guards who were guarding the auction also rushed after him.

Zack quickly reached one of the alleys formed from the rows of stalls, the crowd was smaller here so he ran faster. His heart was beating as if it was about to break free.

The young thief ran out of the market and into a left-hand alley, barely avoiding a collision with a brick wall. His pursuit was not far away, only a dozen steps away.

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He moved on towards the bridge connecting the merchants' guild island to the lower city.

“Look out!” Zack slammed into the shoulder of one of the passers-by, almost knocking him over as well as himself.

Maneuvering his body, he managed to keep his balance as he ran into the next alley. The merchant isles were a real maze when you didn't know the city.

“Brat...” Said the stricken man picking up his hat which was lying on the ground. "He didn't even stop to apologize." As soon as he picked up the hat, he felt his arm being squeezed by an iron glove.

"Where is he!" A guard in iron armor shouted at him, sweat was dripping down his face. Running in armor in that heat surely wasn’t pleasant."

"He..." The passer-by was shocked but managed to point to the alley the boy had run into. The guard pushed him and threw himself into further pursuit. Seconds later, he was joined by two other men. One of them was a guard wearing similar armor, and the other was an angry man holding a saber. What was surprising was that the man, despite wearing light clothing, was panting the most out of all the pursuers.

The passerby leaned against the wall, caught his breath, and continued on his way to the market. However, he felt strange, as if something was missing. He looked at his belt and noticed that the leather pouch attached to it was missing. After realizing what had happened, the man also began to chase after the boy covered in a grey scarf.

Zack ran under the gate, thus running onto the bridge. If he had not been in a hurry, he would have stopped on the bridge and admired the ships leaving the harbor. The sails of which shimmered in every color known to the boy, from scarlet red to purple or even green.

The ships would embark on another one of their voyages, traveling to the farthest corners of the world, whether known or unknown to the boy. The boy would then daydream, imagining all kinds of voyages and adventures the ships might have had. Did they discover lands he had not even dreamed of? Did they get to experience the wonders of the world so often described by drunken sailors?

Zack did not know this, but he wanted to.

After a while, the ships that left the port of the lower city disappeared behind the walls of the temple island. The island was in the middle of the canal, in the very center of it. Two bridges diverged from it, the one on the left connected the island to the upper city and the one on the right to the lower city.

The island was home to the Order of Eternal Fire. Most of them were fanatics who tended to prioritize the will of god above all else.

To the left of the island, as said before was the upper town. In the upper city, there was an official palace that rose above all the buildings. Tall soaring towers surrounded the dome, which served as the roof. That palace was where aristocrats, merchants, and priests decided what was best for the entire city, not just the upper city.

Most citizens of the lower city viewed the upper city as the home of the wealthy, the center of evil, and a nest of wealthy arrogant bastards. Of course, they didn't say these things out loud.

Zack ran to the other side of the bridge, his body beginning to ache. He ran for too long, bringing himself to the brink of endurance but on his face, unknowing to him was a smile.

The pursuers were nowhere to be seen, he didn't know if he had lost them or if they were just across the bridge, still trying to catch up with him.

He found himself in the lower town and needed to get to his house. He walked along the main street, avoiding the side passages. In the lower city, walking in the shadows was dangerous, even for a thief. Only at night would he walk in the alleys; most of the problems that could be encountered there would be asleep.

The main street stretched from the bridge to the harbor itself, passing through almost the entire lower town. It was used to transport goods that went to the trading island, but also to smaller shops scattered around the city.

Only the most valuable goods were not transported, these reached the port in the upper town and from there Zack did not know where they went. Only once did he manage to see what seemed to him to be the most beautiful of elves and chests filled with valuables he couldn't even dream of being taken from a huge ship.

Zack had already taken off his scarf and used it as a belt to which he could tie up the pouches. He was not far from home but still wanted to stop by the merchants and buy something to eat.

Near the bridge, on the lower city side, were a couple of stalls. Most of them were denied entry to the merchant’s isle, probably because they didn’t have enough coins to pay for the space to place their stall.

“How much for this bread?” Zack said pointing at the bread

The merchant, clearly bored with his work raised his hand and showed five fingers then added in an equally bored and monotone voice, “Bronze coins.”

The boy opened one of the pouches, specifically the one he had taken from the man he had bumped into. There were about a handful of coins in it, most of them bronze but also a few silver ones. People whom he had stolen from on the merchant's isle never failed to impress him with their generosity. Even a passer-by had a few silver coins in his pouch.

He took out five bronze coins.

The boy handed over the five coins, picked up the bread, and headed towards his house. He walked a few steps, however, and spotted a second stall where apples were presented in wicker baskets.

Not the green or almost rotten ones, but the vibrant red apples one usually saw on the stalls of the shopping island. So the boy ran up to this stall as well.

“1 silver coin.” Said the young woman smiling. Her voice sounded almost as pleasant as the voices of the saleswomen of the trading island. But the words that her pleasant voice has spoken caused Zack’s face to go grey.

1 silver coin is equivalent to 20 bronze coins and she wanted that much for one apple.

“Excuse me how much?” The boy asked if he had heard wrong because he couldn't believe it. Was apples that expensive?

“1 silver coin or its equivalent in bronze ones.” The woman smiled. She decided to ignore the boy's indignation at the price. "If you don't have that much, please leave."

The boy took a silver coin from his other pouch and handed it to the woman, who smiled gratefully and handed him an apple. The boy sighed and, holding the apple in one hand and the bread in the other, continued on his way.

It did not take him long and he reached the southern city walls. He turned into a right-hand alley and stood in front of the door of a tenement where he lives. The alley was dimly lit, with only a few beams of light penetrating through. The rooftops of the buildings effectively blocked the rest of the sunlight.

The doors were grey, but in some places, they still retained their former brightness. The beige walls had visible cracks in them. Only the flowers that grew on the outside of the open window gave the place a small drop of friendly aura.

The windows on the ground floor, on the other hand, were closed, the wooden covers prevented anyone from seeing what is inside. To the right, at a safe distance from the covers, was an iron container holding an extinguished torch. The torch used to serve as a source of light at night a long time ago. Now, it was nothing more than a sad reminder of memories that would never return.

The boy looked around the alley, making sure no one was following him or lurking in the darkness. Only after that, he walked up to the door and knock. He knocked three times fast, then twice slow, and then he waited.

After a moment, quiet footsteps could be heard from behind the door, treading softly on the wooden floor. The door swung open violently and a small figure jumped out.

“You're back!” A shout of joy thundered in the boy's ear as the figure rushed at him and hugged him. Zack quickly took the bread and apple out of her way.

“Yes, I'm back.” Zack replied with an equally undisguised smile.