Ezril turned and looked in the direction of the girl with the tray immediately. To his expectation, Salem was walking up to the girl and the customer disturbing her. His steps were casual and calm. It was the way he always walked and had made Ezril and his brothers suspect the boy’s family was quite similar to royalty in Alifat. Salem’s poise was more of a failed noble than a warrior like the rest of them.

“The lady doesn’t want you,” Salem told the man, standing before him with his arms by his side. Fravis, the priest that trained them in unarmed combat taught them to always leave their arms free, this way they were always prepared for a fight.

The man’s hold tightened around the girl before his attention turned to Salem. “Sod off before I…”

He allowed the rest of the sentence die in his mouth the moment his eyes met Salem. He took in the color of Salem’s grey clothes and noted the insignia of the seminary dangling from his neck.

Releasing the girl’s waist, the man frowned and took a concentrated interest in the drink in front of him. It was a natural response, something Ezril had discovered on their first outing. At first he had thought the people feared them, but he had soon come to correct himself: they didn’t fear them, they feared the seminary just as much as the king’s soldiers hated it.

Turning to the girl, Salem asked in a completely different tone, “Do you mind serving my brothers and I a few cups? I’m not so sure what they would like so I think it would be best to ask them.” His voice was sleek and caring.

Ezril considered the fact that the boy would have made a successful diplomat if he hadn’t ended up in the seminary. In a few moments Salem was back at the table and they were eating and drinking. Salem’s interference was almost forgotten, like an unnecessary daily activity.

“Why don’t you tell me what you guys want to get and I’ll go get it all,” Olbi offered after a while. “That way we all get to enjoy the festival without having to spend most of it looking for the things we wish to buy.”

The boy knew the city best of all of them. He would know where to get whatever they wanted, and he had made a valid point on the notion of enjoying the outing if it wasn’t spent looking for what to buy.

After a brief exchange of words, they gave him their orders and their coins and he vanished the moment he stepped his feet outside the doors. He was gone, taken into the busy roads.

Thirty minutes after Olbi’s departure their table was slowly flocked by the city girls amongst whom Ezril was sure were whores. While Unkuti entertained one of the city girl’s approach, Ezril watched Darvi shut down every girl that approached him. Takan on the other hand was entertaining every girl that crossed his path. Ezril laughed each time Olufemi squirmed from a girl’s touch. Finding himself leaving his position so Unkuti could talk with one of the girls, Ezril noted the occasional looks from the boys from the various tables around.

“Poor girl,” Darvi said to no one in particular, making Ezril look in the direction he was watching.

Most of the girls flocked to Salem’s end of the table trying their luck with him. Sadly, as they expected, he spared no attention for any of them, including the waitress who had taken a somewhat innocent interest in him. Salem was the most handsome of them all, with a squared jaw and piercing eyes. He was as tall as most adults at the age of sixteen and had a quiet look to him. Ezril was not surprised the ladies liked it.

“If you all do not mind,” Unkuti informed them as a girl led him by the hand. “I’ll be upstairs.”

The boy left with the girl giggling and a happy smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Takan was at another table with his tongue buried in the mouth of another girl that had approached him while Raylin continued flirting with another girl. Anyone who watched Raylin would know his attempts would end with no result. The brother was horrible with the ladies.

No one will address this, Ezril thought as all of them engaged in their different activities. Sexual immoralities were against the rules of the seminary but it was not unheard of amongst the brothers. All that mattered was that they didn’t get caught. The absence of any other children of the seminary in the bar made Ezril understand the reason Olbi had brought them there. In this place, they would be free to do whatever they wanted.

Before long they were all done with their food and drinks. Those still at the table sat down with a new contemplation hovering in their minds. Olufemi rose from his seat gently and Ezril turned to the boy.

“What is it, brother?” he asked.

“Something’s wrong,” Olufemi answered. He calmly made his way to the door of the bar. He opened it ever so slightly and let in the noise of the commotion outside in all its force. The sound was annoying but a few words caught their attention as it flowed from the lips of passersby.

“… seminarian fighting them…”

“… a grey be at one of the Venin’s whore houses…”

“…What was he even doing at moonshine.”

“… protect her?”

Takan abandoned the girl he was with immediately and made his way to the table. He cleaned his mouth of whatever saliva the girl had left behind as he arrived. Raylin shooed away his entertainment. She left happily.

“Go get Unkuti,” Darvi ordered Ezril as the rest of them moved.

They didn’t know which seminarian was fighting. All that was important was the fact that it was a seminarian who fought and Olbi was out there somewhere and they bolted for the door where Olufemi was waiting.

Ezril moved quickly. He weaved his way around the tables and the guests, his attention primed on the stairs leading to the floors above. He took the steps in twos, reaching the floor above as fast as he could. He banged on all the doors he passed, apologizing very briefly each time it proved to be someone else. Finally, one of the doors opened to reveal a bare chested boy.

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“WHAT!?” Unkuti barked, his frustration evident before being contained it at the sight of Ezril.

“Out. Now,” he commanded, giving no attention to the girl on the bed covered in naught but sheets. “One of our brothers needs help.”

In seconds Unkuti was out of the room dressing up with his sheathed swords in hand and running beside Ezril.

Exiting the bar, they ran through the crowds, weaving their way towards the commotion, Ezril in the lead. He recognized the name that had been mentioned well enough. When they had their first outing Olbi had shown them various places including the brothel. Moonshine. Ezril knew the place wasn’t too far from the bar.

“The roofs,” Unkuti suggested, his voice almost muffled by the ruckus of the ceremony around them. “They will be faster.”

Soon they found themselves scaling rooftops and darting past alleys. Drawing closer to a larger commotion and the sounds of metals clashing, they found themselves above a fight. Their brothers were fending of at least twelve men whilst protecting a young girl. They held a perimeter in an arch around her to serve as a deterrent.

Unkuti dropped into their midst from the roof, sword drawn. Ezril followed. He reached into his cloak as he dropped and one of his throwing knives left his hand, flying straight to embed itself in a man’s right shoulder.

“What’s happening?” he asked Darvi, pulling up to the brother’s side, Sunders drawn. He joined the arch as easily as Unkuti had. It was seamless and practiced.

“He’s protecting the girl,” Darvi explained, his eyes never leaving their opponents. “And so are we.”

Although his arrival with Unkuti had made their opponents wary and had stopped the clashing of sword, they were still nowhere near escaping. Sparing a brief glance at the girl, Ezril noted the way she looked at Olbi.

She knows him, he deduced. I’m guessing he knows her too.

“Ready?” Darvi asked.

Understanding he spoke to them, Ezril and the others gave a brief nod as their assailants closed in once more. They were only eighteen and Ezril knew it was not a number too great for them. If his brothers had awakened to their Vayla’s gifts as Hallowed it would’ve been a different conversation. But they had not.

“Why are we still here?” Ezril whispered.

“We had to wait for you,” Darvi replied with a smile. In a raised voice, he added: “Break bones. Shed blood. Take no lives!”

Everywhere erupted.

Ezril parried and evaded. His throwing knives left his hand at intervals, catching every target in the thigh and bringing them to their knees amidst cries of pain. The fight was over as quickly as it had started and they were running through the streets in moments. Olbi led the girl they protected by the hand.

They traveled a long distance through the crowd hurriedly before their steps slowed.

When they were clear of the brothel and their assailants, Takan asked, “How long before they catch up?”

“They won’t,” Ezril answered him. “They have a lot of wounded to deal with.”

“…Thank you, I don’t know to repay you,” the girl was saying between breaths, interrupting the conversation.

Ignoring her, Darvi walked up to Olbi. His fury was strong now so that when he spoke his voice carried it. “Who is she?”

“I’m Cren Alniv.”

Darvi pointed his blade at her. Its point rested at her jugular but his eyes never left their brother. “I do not remember asking you.”

Alniv? Ezril thought.

They all knew the name. Slowly they turned their eyes to Olbi.

Some of them had families they had left behind and Olbi had just run into one of his own. They couldn’t hold his actions entirely against him. However, the way the girl was dressed was evident to all of them. As young as she was, she was a whore.

“The Venin guild is using her to pay of our… her father’s debt,” Olbi told them.

They had all heard him correct himself and Ezril had seen the girl flinch at his words. She hasn’t accepted that he’s no longer her family.

Just as you haven’t accepted that aunt Teneri is no longer your family. The thought was a jolt of electricity to him and it raised a slight touch of guilt within him. As much truth as there was in the thought, Ezril hadn’t thought much about aunt Teneri in a long while. He didn’t even know if she was still alive.

“Before I joined the seminary,” Olbi continued as they hid behind a building in a less busy part of the city. “Her family owed the guild money. Her father was deep in debt. Now that her parents are dead they plan to use her to pay for it.”

“I thought the Venin guild was a merchant organization,” Raylin said, confused.

“Only in the open,” Olbi explained. “This is one of the dark sides to them.”

“So because of your past I have to spend my free day running?” Takan asked, annoyed.

Cren walked up to them in a rage of her own.

“I’m a person, too, and he’s still my brother…” She turned and pointed a frustrated finger at Olbi. “…and he’s still your father.”

Unkuti movement was a blur. He lifted the girl off the floor by her neck in one swift motion, displaying a ruthlessness and skill Father Fravis would be proud of.

Olbi took a step towards him as Cren struggled in pain, clutching at Unkuti’s hand. The noise of the festival drowned out whatever choked sounds escaped her lips. Unkuti was a tall boy and Cren barely reached his shoulder but now she looked down at him as her legs dangled in the air. It was beginning to seem the boy was coming into his Hallowed strength that Father Zakarid had told them would eventually happen. Either that or the girl weighed next to nothing.

“Now,” Unkuti began in seething fury, still holding her up as he addressed them. “I may care about you, brothers, but I certainly do not like the idea of risking my life or my day off for a girl I’ve never met…” He released the girl, leaving her to fall to the ground heavily and stepped up to Olbi. “…much less a whore. So the next time she opens her mouth, I’ll break her neck and be done with it. Then you can try and beat me for it.”

Unkuti was on edge. It was clear from the look in his eyes. Ezril and his brothers had spent most of their last four years inside the seminary and in the few days that they were out they had known and understood the name of the Venin guild. Somehow Ezril knew that was not the reason the brother was on edge, or why any of the others were on edge.

Apart for Olbi and Darvi the others seemed to hunger for something. Their grips on their Sunders were tighter than was necessary. Their eyes were ever watchful of the corners, their feet twitching in anticipation of sudden movement.

They can’t stay calm, Ezril realized.

They were eight people who had spent the most part of four years learning how best to kill a man and had just spent time, however briefly, in a fight, leaving without killing anyone. Olbi was too busy worrying about other things and Darvi was simply himself; capable of concealing everything he felt. Ezril, understanding the situation before him, found himself dreading it.

They want blood. They’ve been taught to kill and having tasted blood they want to kill. His hand trembled where he held his Sunders and another realization came to him. You want to kill.

Placing himself beside Darvi, he whispered, “We have to leave, brother. Now.”

Darvi turned to him, perplexed. “Why?”

“Our brothers want blood,” he answered, cautious. “So we cannot remain here. We cannot give them what they want. Not today.”

Sheathing his Sunders in their scabbards at his hips, Darvi began giving out commands.

“Cren, any other word out of you, and I’ll let him kill you,” he warned Olbi’s sister. “Olbi, we need a way back without being spotted. Salem, you’ll be our mouth. If anyone asks questions, you’ll give them answers. The rest of you, remember: break bones, shed blood…”

“…Take no lives,” They answered in unison like a battalion primed for war.