The faces were familiar and grinning as he walked through the streets that he had called home for well over a decade. This was his home, more than anywhere else ever had been. Children began to trail behind him, each of them competing for his attention as they jostled to be closer to him. As he reached the market square of Bantan heights Raphael sharply turned on the children trailing him with a speed that belied his size. Raph couldn't help but smile when he saw them jump at his sudden movement and tried to hide his own smile as they began to giggle. They knew he was nothing to be afraid of and instead of being startled they watched him intently. Raphael waited for them to quiet, he looked them up and down as if searching for someone in particular. He was in fact searching for someone. He scanned children for his apprentice, and he found him standing close to the center of them as if holding court. As they settled down he saw that even the adults in the crowd eyed him in amusement. They of course were used to Amadis antics and were probably grateful for Raphaels return. Rolling his eyes, Raphael motioned for his apprentice to join him as he turned back around navigating the market stalls as the boy ran up to him. His apprentice was strongly Bantan, his skin a rich caramel with fine features and a large nose that didn't seem to fit his face. His hair was close cropped to avoid the fleas that children so often got in the pits. Raphael looked back and slowed allowing his apprentice to catch up to him. The boy ran in an odd hopping fashion but was fast in catching up to Raphael who he skidded to a stop next to. Amadi immediately began helping him take off his workman's vest, folding it delicately and stowing it in Raphaels bag. Raph untied his cravat, handing it and his hat to his young assistant as they walked down the crowded streets. Finally, the children began to disperse back out into the market as their parents called to them or they just grew bored. They stopped at a market stall that wafted the heady scents of cooking meat and spices in equal measure. Raphael sank into a chair while Amadi rushed forward to unlace and tug off his master's boots. Raphael tried to stop him as the boy crouched down his fingers working on the laces faster than Raphael could push the boy off. He hated the way that Amadi treated him but the boy had an extremely strict sense of honour and duty for someone so young. Finally, Raphael was able to force Amadi off him and into a seat at the table across the table. Raphael pulled off his socks and sunk his toes into the grains of salt beneath his feet. He felt the familiar tickle of the salt pressing into his feet, the sensation making him shiver and relax, he was home. Amadi had already ordered and brought him a watery small beer and a piece of unidentifiable meat wrapped in a flatbread, it smelled heavenly.

Amadi had ordered some food of his own and they both ate ravenously before either of them spoke a single word two each other. Washing down the greasy meat with a swig of the beer Raphael eyed Amadi’s left leg which the boy had tucked under him as he ate.

“I see you're getting used to this design, have there been any problems?”

Amadi moved his left leg out pulling his pant leg up to reveal the prosthetic that fit into a leather socket that disappeared up the boy's pants. The prosthetic was roughly horseshoe shaped and made of an expensive composite of horn, bone and sinew. The design was of Raphael's own creation and he had modelled it after bows used by nomadic tribes in the far north of Osos. Amadi looked down at the prosthetic before looking back up at his master, shaking his head slowly as he did so.

“It's better than the peg to be sure Madyis, I can run with this and I don't lose my breath near as quick.”

Raphael watched the boy fidget and look away from him, waiting for him to finish,

“It slips, not usually though, but if somethings wet or the ground is smooth.”

Amadi looked away from his master ashamedly unable to meet his eyes as he said this and Raphael groaned. Of course, he hadn't thought about the prosthetic not having any grip, he would have to make something to correct this as soon as possible. Making a mental note he looked at Amadi still turned away and sighed, the boy was always so uncomfortable when it came to his leg. Raphael could understand why too, in the pits weakness often meant death. Raphael had found Amadi as a toddler sitting amongst some boxes unconscious and starving, his leg withered away, he had been left to die. Nursing him back to health Raphael had learned Amadi’s strange dialect of Bantan and had shared what little he had with the boy. To Raphael, they were both outcasts and this made them family before he had even known the boy’s name. Despite his small stature the boy was well into his teen years now and was invaluable as both an apprentice and brother. Amadi’s mind was perhaps the sharpest Raphael had ever encountered and it was a trait that the boy hid well behind his childlike exterior. It was for this reason that Raphael so highly valued the boy’s counsel and so dreaded having to explain what happened. Still, though the boy looked at him intently, his keen eyes taking in Raphaels rumpled look and sour attitude.

“What is it Amadi?”

The young boy looked down at his hands before looking back up at his master,

“Well… how did the job go? I’m noticing a lack of gemstones and gold.”

Amadi spoke Kerantian in his strangely clipped fashion, each word lilting in his accent as he questioned Raphael. Sighing Raphael looked out over the market and the people setting up for the morning, the smell of coffee, food and tea was more a sign of morning than the sun this deep in the pits. In all of the excitement of the night, he had almost forgotten the reason he'd been out. He looked back at his young apprentice and shook his head slowly trying to word his response before replying in Bantan to the boy.

“The jobs botched, for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he came home from his ball early.”

The boy looked down at his hands again, his face working through a series of expressions, disappointment, anger, and finally, it landed on a look Raph knew well, sly curiosity. Amadi sensed a story and the only thing Amadi loved more than a story was telling them himself. Finishing his wrap Raphael wiped his hands and began to recount the events of the past night. He spared no detail, there were no secrets between the master and the apprentice, the boy sat enraptured by the retelling. As Raphael spoke he tried to piece together the night in his own mind. He had been running on pure instinct and it seemed almost a blur now. In telling the story, he realized both the magnitude of his luck in escaping alive and escaping uncaptured. Raphael had never been gifted with the luck that blessed others and any advantages life had given him had been lost long ago. For most of his life, the only reliability he could find was in himself, this had bred instincts that he could count on. This mistake could have cost him his life, could have cost Amadi his life, could have cost them both their freedom. Raphael had known The Iron was the only aspect known to actually live in the colony for any period of time. What he hadn't ever expected was someone as wealthy and influential to live anywhere but inside The Citadel. Amadi interrupted as Raphael revealed the true identity of their target, his thoughts mimicking Raphs.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“What?” A look of shock and horror covered the boy's face.

“Salt in the wound! You are lucky not to be ash much less free.”

Raphael rubbed his face, the night without sleep was catching up to him as the adrenaline that had fueled him began to wear off. He was tired, more than that though he was shaken by the night's events. Yet something kept him awake, an electric energy that filled him, kept him alert. Years of living in The Pits were what had created a constant awareness that filled Raph every moment his feet touched its ground. He had trailed off not responding to Amadi, Raphael senses had picked up on something that he couldn’t put his finger on yet. Sometimes this happened, his finely honed instincts picked up on something even before his mind could process it, another gift of living in The Pits. Usually, though it was something he could cast aside, so far in the periphery of his perception that it really had no effect on him. As he slowly turned to his apprentice and tried to continue his story he was interrupted by the sounds of screaming.

Raphael shot to his feet years of instincts bred by the streets and his chosen career urging him to run and hide as far from the sound as he could. Instead, fighting his instincts he turned and looked for the source of the commotion that was growing louder and louder as more voices joined. Scanning the crowd he was able to see over most of the people’s heads when he stood. He cast around looking for the source until he spotted the noises origin. Not far away a man's limp body was being dragged out of an alley, a woman, probably the man's wife was chasing after them screaming as she did. There were three Bantan men all dressed in matching grey shirts, black slacks and work boots. The three men each wore one distinguishing feature, their sleeves were rolled up and on each of their forearms, they wore silvery vambraces. Taking in the scene took just a moment for Raphael and he cursed under his breath, Ashers. He nodded towards Amadi making the quick hand signal for Ashers and the boy turned running into the crowd. As the young man scampered off Raphael set his shoulders trying to stand tall and began to walk towards the men. He slipped through the crowd expertly not having to push or shove until he had nearly reached the front of the throng. Nearest to the three Ashers a group of squarely built swarthy Bantan men surrounded the agents who stood still as statues. Pushing through the group of large men Raphael emerged into open air and was face to face with the Asher standing at the lead. The man stared at Raphael lazily, his skin was a light brown and his eyes were flecked with blue, if he had to guess this man was around his age.

“Is there a problem here Mr…?”

Raphael tried to cultivate an heir of superiority and nobility as he spoke to the officer who stared at him indolently for a few seconds before responding in a high nasal voice.

“Agent Marquis” he drolled as he looked Raphael up and down “and no there isn't a problem.”

Raphael smiled trying his best not to grit his teeth as he did, this was not a position he wanted to be in but as he looked down at the man his decision firmed.

“Agent Marquis,” Raphael responded “I’m sure there’s a better way to handle this, Mr. Lohadi looks injured and his wife seems quite upset”

The agent stood there, he was of a height with Raphael and his eyes gleamed as they met with the man across from him before he spoke again.

“Raphael Saltborn, exile and petty thief, we are quite aware of who you are.”

Raphael stiffened at this, he thought he had been forgotten, forgotten a long time ago. It must have been the damned break-in, it must have alerted them to his continued existence. These thoughts flashed through Raphael even as the man continued speaking.

“Mr. Lohadi here has committed the crime of forgery and under the laws of his auspicious governorship The Lord Duke Davian Karas we have every legal right to treat this prisoner as we please.”

As he finished the agent crossed his arms the silver bracers clacking slightly as he did so and looked at Raphael daring him to do something. Raphaels mind was racing, he looked at the two Ashers who held Mr. Lohadis unconscious form and then at Mrs. Lohadi who was weeping silently now. Grimacing he played his last card,

“I still know family, I would recommend that you leave these people alone.”

Even Raphael knew this was weak, but maybe since they already knew who he was his words would carry more weight. Agent Marquis looked back at him and the bored look on his face changed as his mouth stretched into an oily smirk.

“Saltborn, even if there was the most remote chance you still were in contact with your family it would do absolutely nothing.”

He walked up until he was nose to nose with Raphael and spoke softly.

“I report to one man, it's been a long long time since you've been up in the city, things change, we run the streets there, we will here too.”

Then the agent stepped back and motioned to his two accomplices and they began to walk away the crowd parting for them as they did. Turning his head as he walked by Raphael he leaned over and spat into the salt at his feet. As the men walked away Mrs. Lohadi screamed again and wrenched from the grip of the man holding her racing towards Agent Marquis a feral look on her face. Quick as thought Raphael moved, grabbing the woman before anyone could process what had almost just happened. Raphael held the sobbing woman, one arm wrapped around her back holding her tightly to him as she sobbed and shook in his arms. Raphs other hand firmly grasped the wrist of the hand that held the knife that had been aimed at the agent's back.