Faux woke from his nightmare to general pain. His whole body hurt. And the smell, what the hell was that smell. He cracked apart crusted eyelids to look at the wall he was laying against. As he peeled his face from the stone, he got a better look at his surroundings.

He was in a refuse filled alley, the blazing brightness of the sky, barely filtering down into the dimly lit filth of a walk path between two dilapidated buildings. He heard a grunt and looked over to see Mckale fast asleep against the other wall, almost invisible in the deep shadows of the narrow alley.

The memories came flooding back. His mom, Dagon, the guards, the merchant. He leaned over and dry heaved, fortunately there was nothing in his stomach to come back up.

“You finally awake?” Faux looked over to see Mckale had awoken and was staring at him. “You in there Faux?” Faux wiped some spittle on his dirty sleeve.

“Yea, I’m here.”

Mckale gave a short nod and continued. “Good, cause we’re in trouble. We need to find some food or we ain’t living much longer than our folks.”

Faux stared down at his trembling hands. “How are you holding together?” Faux questioned. Faux felt like his psyche was in pieces, it was taking a physical toll on him, yet Mckale had stayed strong for both of them.

“Ain’t no other choice.” Mckale said after a moment. “Gotta keep moving forward. Either that or stop and die, and I ain’t ready for that.” Mckale stood and walked over to Faux, holding out his hand to help him up.

Faux looked at the hand for a moment before taking it and being hauled to his feet. “What do we do now?” Faux questioned.

“Now we hide that dagger and last gold piece, lest we wanna be killed for it.”

Faux nodded, remembering the look of greed on that sleazy vendor’s face. They both looked around until they found a loose brick behind some broken crates. They used the dagger to chip out the mortar to get the brick out, then stashed the dagger and coin behind the brick before covering it back up again.

“Now we ain’t got nothing, so no one can take from us. It's about time we take from them.” McKale’s tone was cold and serious. With a quick nod the boys left the alley and made their way out into the city street. As they exited, Faux had to blink while his eyes adjusted. He would have guessed it was morning based on the light in the alley, but it was clearly near mid-day.

The city was buzzing with activity. Most people ignored them or gave them looks of disgust as they clutched their purses tighter. There were a handful of other urchins running about as they walked to the public well.

The urchins seemed to pay more attention to them than anyone else, watching with squinted eyes. Mckale spoke first. “I think we should go back to that market again.”

Faux immediately paled. “They’ll kill us for certain, we can’t go back there.” He replied with worry.

Mckale put his hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “They won’t remember us. We look like any other street rat.” Mckale nearly spit that word out, still clearly upset about those guards. “And we’ll stay clear of that man who stole from us.”

Faux didn’t look convinced. “We could beg for some coppers. Or maybe wait at the back door of an inn for the food they throw out.”

Mckale gave Faux that same look from back at the river. “We ain’t eaten in a day Faux. We’ve gotta try. Just a little something to tide us over, then we can do it your way.”

Faux wasn’t happy, but he gave a short nod.

……………………………..

“Stop looking so damn suspicious.” Mckale muttered for the umpteenth time. Faux tried again to act casual, but his anxiety was spiking. They were in the market district and were packed to the gills against people bustling about.

It was a massive square with stalls up and down each side of the interlayered streets. The stalls were frequently a wood front with a cloth cover and an open back. Faux would frequently bump into people that would glare at him as they clutched their purse. He was almost annoyed he wasn’t a pickpocket.

“There. That one. Over by the flower seller.” Faux looked over and saw a young man selling bread at a stall next to a young lady selling flowers. They both looked like teenagers, kids of the owners perhaps. It seemed like their interest didn’t lie in the family business today.

They could see the teenagers sneaking glances at each other and blushing. If timed right, Faux could snatch a loaf from the corner of the stall when the teenage boy snuck a glance at the girl. It was a dangerous move, but Faux felt his stomach grumble and he knew they would have to take a risk.

He nodded to Mckale, without need to relay the plan, and they made their way over. Trying to be as innocuous as possible, Mckale went up to the flower girl and looked at her wares. She was suspicious immediately, causing the bread boy to take an interest.

“Hey, you,” the bread boy shouted. “No beggars at the stalls.”

Mckale fired back “This ain’t your stall.” That got the boy fired up, Mckale had his full attention now. As the boy rose in defense of the flower girl, Faux walked by, snatched a loaf of bread, and kept walking, not even hearing the words being said behind him.

His nerves ached as he thought about how it sounded like things had gotten heated. A hand slapped down on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun, loaf clutched tight to his chest. When he realized it was only Mckale he gave a deep sigh of relief.

Mckale couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he spoke. “I told you! I told you it would work.” Faux could only nod. They both quickly hustled into an alley and tore off a piece of bread.

As they brought the food to their mouths there came a voice stopping their hearts cold. “Hiya thieves.”

Mckale and Faux both turned to look over at the entrance of the alley. There stood four boys who looked to be urchins… big urchins. They were probably in their late teens, and all four looked like they probably did hard labor for a living. The one who had spoken, had a smirk on his face.

Mckale replied. “What do you want?”

Smirk spoke again. “Well see, this is our neighborhood, and you stole from one of our neighbors.” The other three thugs chuckled. “So why don’t you hand that over and we’ll return it for you.” One of the three idiots guffawed, Faux wasn’t sure what was so funny.

Mckale looked them over. Mckale was a big boy, but he couldn’t take four of them at once. “Why don’t we share? How about we give you half, and then we’ll leave.”

Smirk lost his namesake as he spoke again. “How 'bout you give us the bread before I have to ask again, and we let you walk out of here without any broken bones.”

Faux knew Mckale was slow to anger, but he could see it building. “Just give it to them.” Faux interjected. “It’s not worth it.”

Mckale nodded, looked at them, then threw it on the dirty ground at their feet. “There you go, some trash for some trash.”

Smirk looked down at the loaf then back at Mckale. “I’m gonna enjoy this.'' He said as he crushed the bread under his boot.

His three friends charged forward. Mckale blocked the first punch at his face, but he missed the kick behind his right knee and went down. It was short and brutal. He did his best to turtle up and cover his face, but some blows got through.

“What’s going on here?” A voice shouted from down the alley. Smirk and crew looked over, the figure was backlit from the street. Like typical bully’s they would take no risks and with a final kick to Mckale’s ribs, they took off down the alley’s other side.

Faux ran over to Mckale who was groaning, blood coming from one of his ears. He would probably have giant purple bruises, but nothing felt broken. With some struggle Faux was able to help him to his feet.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Mckale looked a little groggy, but he put his arm over Faux’s shoulder, and they began limping away. As they hobbled the same way Smirk had gone, Faux showed him the fist sized chunk of bread he had hid, and they both smiled.

……………………………

Tiberius watched the two fleeing down the alley and debated pursuing. He had no idea what was going on but had seen a commotion and called out. He shrugged and kept walking. He was undercover after all.

This was his first time out in the city alone and unguarded. Trying to keep a low profile, he kept on the tunic from sword practice, as it was meant for work and didn’t look too fancy. In hindsight, he had underestimated what other kids his age wore.

Most children wore little more than threadbare tunic and pants. If they were lucky, their shoe leather wasn’t paper thin. Maybe it was just this part of town, but he figured the market would be a fun area to start.

Although, in this area he didn’t see any children playing really, they all seemed to be hard at work. Not paying attention, he managed to walk into the person in front of him. The person stumbled back, and Tibi apologized quickly.

“My mistake. Are you-” He felt the sting of the back of the man’s hand.

“Watch where you’re going, peasant!”

Tibi was in near shock, no one had ever struck him out of anger before. For the first time he noticed the man wore fine clothes, clearly some wealthy merchant or minor noble.

“How dare you strike me sir?” Tibi growled.

The man looked at him with a sneer. “And what are you going to do about it, street rat?”

For a moment Tiberius was actually taken aback. What could he do about it? The guard that circulated the bazaar certainly wouldn’t take Tibi’s word for it unless he announced who he was. If he did that, his cover would be blown with a quick escort back to the castle.

The man took Tibi’s inability to come up with a good answer for what it was, gave a huff, and walked away. Tibi just stood there for a moment, he wasn’t sure he had ever had a moment where he felt quite so helpless and indecisive.

The angry part of him wanted the man flogged, but frankly, the man might get an award for revealing him. “Damn it all.” He cursed to himself and began walking away, slightly more careful of his surroundings.

He was rubbing his cheek as someone began shouting. “Thief! Catch him! Don’t let him get away!”

Tiberius turned in time to see a small boy running towards him. With deft reflexes he grabbed the boy by the back of his tunic. The boy jerked to a halt, his legs going from under him as he fell into a sitting position on the ground.

The boy immediately started screaming while trying to pull away from Tibi. “Calm down, calm down.” He tried to get the hysterical boy to stay still when a shadow came over them both.

“Good. Someone caught him.” Two burly guards stood behind him and they immediately grabbed the boy by each arm and started to drag him away.

The look of fear in the boy's eyes and the quiet sobbing that began, chilled Tibi’s heart. “Hey now what are you going to do with him?”

The guard glanced back at him and then looked away, ignoring him completely.

“Just let him return the apple and then let him go. There’s no need to take him to prison.”

At that the guard chuckled, looking back at him with an evil glint in his eye. “Prison? Hah! The punishment for thievery is a nice big brand on the forehead.”

“That’s ridiculous! The boy took an apple, not a pound of gold.”

The guard's face showed his growing anger, “Mind your business rat. There could just as easily be two thieves, as one.”

Tiberius finally broke, “Do you know who I am? I can have you flogged for this.”

Apparently, they didn’t know who he was because as the crowd chuckled at Tibi’s idiocy, one of the guards grabbed him by the front of his tunic. “You look like a right uppity little thief to me. It looks like you need a lesson in manners.” Barked the guard.

Dread filled Tiberius as he wondered if this idiot guard would try and brand him. Surely the Justice would recognize him… wouldn’t he? He decided he couldn’t take that risk, stomping down on the guard's foot and shooting his palm up into the guard’s chin.

The guard might be twice his size, but Tibi had been trained in combat since he learned to walk. The guard howled as he stumbled back, his partner releasing the boy thief and pulling out his truncheon.

“Shouldn’t have done that.” He said with murder in his eyes.

Tibi gave him a look, and saw the other guard recover while also drawing his truncheon. The chances were low against two armed men, and he slowly started backing away only to back into something solid. His heart dropped into his stomach.

When he turned, a painfully handsome man with flowing golden hair and shiny silver armor stood behind him. “What’s going on here?” Spoke the man in a dulcet baritone.

Both guards had stopped moving forward, standing in place and gritting their teeth. “None of your business, priest.” Barked a guard.

Priest? Tibi wondered.

“Untrue. All of my flock are my business, and I didn’t see this boy do anything but defend himself. I think you boys should maybe run after the real thief.”

For the first time since the kerfuffle began, the guards realized the boy had slipped away. “One thief is as good as another. This boy assaulted a guard and he’ll be taken before the Justice.” Said the other guard.

“So he can lose a hand? Or maybe be branded for life?” The priest looked truly offended. “Nay, not for this brave young soul. He’s under the protection of the goddess now. Off with you.” The priest waved a hand.

The guards looked like they wanted to argue, but Tibi could also feel the tension in the crowd. While the crowd would’ve been more than happy to see a thief tormented by these horrible men, the priest clearly had sway with them.

The guards looked around nervously. Before finally leaving, one spit at Tiberius’s feet. “You got lucky this time boy. Don’t let us find you again.” They turned into the crowd and shouted at people as they walked away.

“Ah, good folk, remember the goddess protects all her flock.” The crowd started to disperse, and the man bent down to look into Tibi's eyes. “And you boy, you have the spirit. This kingdom is corrupt and only the goddess can save it. Swing by the temple if you would like to join us in helping.”

The priest gave him a benevolent smile and walked away. They had plenty of temples to the seven goddesses, but he had never seen a priest like that before. What did “the kingdom is corrupt” mean? He had more questions than answers.

Without warning he was alerted to a quest. His jaw hit the floor.

Quest alert: Investigate the temple

A mysterious priest, a strange temple, and a foreboding feeling. What could go wrong?

Reward for success: ????

Penalty for failure: ????

Yes/No

……………………………..

Faux was rusty with his changeling abilities, he hadn’t used them since he was little. His mother had often warned that powers of their nature always would lead to trouble. Humans in general, were already a somewhat xenophobic race.

They tolerated gnomes, dwarves, elves and other humanoid races. Those from the dragonkin, or tieflings, or the many half monster races, were treated as little more than talking dire apes. Changelings were even worse. The distrust of someone who could change their look went deep.

Changelings and their monstrous cousins, doppelgangers, had been hunted nigh unto extinction. Those who had survived, kept a very low-key existence. Faux’s father had been human, but upon learning what his wife was, he vanished without a word and never came back.

Eventually his mother found another human to marry. The cobbler was a good man, and a good stepfather, but Faux and his mother never attempted to share who they were with anyone else. Faux had been terrified when he told Dagon, only because of a young child's need to share secrets. But Dag was a pragmatic boy and had just given Faux a nod, never mentioning it since.

It had been a very uncomfortable conversation with Mckale when Faux had told him. His hands twisting with anxiety, worried that Mckale might abandon him like his father had, leaving him alone in this horrible city.

But Mckale had listened stoically, and after the tumult of words came pouring out of Faux’s mouth. They stood there in silence, the dread welling up in Faux’s heart. Mckale finally wrapped his big arms around Faux and simply said, “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

At that moment, Faux wondered why it had taken him so long to talk to Mckale about this. He had always thought of Dagon as his best friend, but Mckale had been there just as long. After coming out to Mckale, they began practicing his shifting, and had plans to put it to use.

They had become quite the little thieves in the past couple of weeks. It helped that most people couldn’t pick an urchin out of a line up to begin with, especially when said urchin could go from boy to girl in a few moments.

He felt like he had been training his whole life to be unnoticed, unseen, so that people didn’t dig too deep. And somehow unconsciously he realized he could be a very common child. Common in the sense that coppers were common, and each one looked alike.

Unless one was extra shiny, or extra dirty, they all melded together and that is exactly what Faux found he was good at. They were able to steal food, and while they still weren’t exactly well fed, they were no longer starving.

Mckale had been helping on and off with chores for bits and scraps. Faux had been stealing bits of food from the markets and stalls. For the first time in weeks, they felt somewhat normal. The original goal of seeking help for the village was fading away. What could the two of them do? Everyone they knew, including Dagon, must be gone. Each day just trying to feed themselves was a struggle enough.

The boys leaned on their regular alley wall, getting ready. Today was an extra tense day. Faux would attempt to lift his first purse. He had finally gotten to the point that his change was rather rapid. While it was painful to force a quick change, it was necessary for the next step in his thieving evolution.

Mckale had taken a day away from his chores to help and watch. They would try to find an easy mark. If things went badly, Mckale could cause a distraction while Faux got far enough away to change. It seemed like a solid plan.