The lump in his throat was so big it felt as if he were trying to swallow a boulder. His legs ached from dangling off the edge of the wooden bench beneath him, its sharp corners digging into his thighs. He waited in darkness. The drawn curtains about him drowned out the light and made it hard to see the thin mesh separating him from the other side of the confessional box.

The priest knew he was waiting. Southern churches always had a single priest in the nave to tend to the flock, and when Kid walked into the church, he’d locked eyes with the dark-skinned man. Upon seeing Kid's dirt-stained outfit, the priest stopped praying and watched him. Kid knew he was just waiting for an excuse to kick out the Outwaller.

The irony made Kid smirk humorlessly. It wasn’t funny. Not really. But this Outwaller was determined to outwait and outwit this priest. It was going to be outstanding. The thought brought a real grin to Kid’s face and gave him the nerve to keep waiting. For all the Venaran clergy preached about the love of the Goddess and her capacity for forgiveness, he had yet to see any of it. The man couldn’t ignore him forever.

Kid jumped in surprise as the curtains rustled on the far side of the mesh barrier. “Are you okay son?”

Kid shook his head, looking to his feet. “Forgive me father for I have sinned.”

Kid saw the outline of a frown through the mesh. “What happened child?”

“I only have three to talk about father. I’m ashamed,” he said, fighting the urge to wring his hands.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of when you come for the Goddess’ forgiveness. Anyone can make a mistake. Fewer can admit them. Tell me son, and be proud.”

Kid wrung his hands, a chill running down his spine. “My first sin, sir, is one of envy,” he said, forcing his hands apart.

“Go on.”

“I’ve often coveted the golden necklaces worn by priests and priestesses, sir. I’m ashamed to say that that envy led me to another sin.” Kid hesitated. This was where it could all come apart. “Theft, sir. And it’s of a rather personal nature to your church, sir.”

Kid could hear the wooden bench creaking as the priest leaned forward. “Did you steal Mother Helena’s grace?”

Kid swallowed. “I have it with me,” Kid exclaimed, trying to forestall the priest’s outrage. “Guilt overcame me, and I tried to return it last night sir but-,” He paused, as the priest opened the mesh between them, his dark eyes staring into Kid’s soul.

Kid tried to continue his lines, but the man talked over him, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “All that matters now, is that you are here,” he said, “How can I help you? Do you need food? Work? I can give you either if it would help.”

Kid’s mouth worked silently, the prepared lies about the unfaithfulness of the man’s wife falling from the tip of his tongue into oblivion. Of all the reactions he expected, kindness was not among them. He swallowed and dug the necklace he had stolen out of his pocket. He looked at the leather tong and the golden dove shaped pendant hanging off the end. The symbol of the Goddess. A deity he was unfamiliar with.

He couldn’t bear to meet the priest’s eyes as he passed the necklace through the window. The man grasped his hand, taking the pendant. As Kid pulled his arm back, the man held him in place. Kid looked up, a lance of fear running through him.

The priest was frowning. “There’s too much fear in you for one so young.”

Kid jerked his hand free. “If your charity extended beyond the wall then maybe I wouldn’t have to be afraid.”

The priest was quiet a long moment. “I can only help those who seek me out. Forgiveness needs to be asked before help can be given. You did the right thing coming here. Few of your kind have respect for the Goddess.”

Kid fought the scowl threatening to alight his lips at the phrase ‘Your kind.’ “You’re right,” he whispered, “I need help.”

The priest graced him with a sad smile. “We all do sometimes. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He held up the golden pendant. “I’ll return the pendant to Mother Helena. I’m sure she’ll welcome you to our little home with open arms.

Kid almost winced as the man turned from him and left the booth. Kid followed him out. “Sir?” Kid asked. The priest glanced at him over his shoulder. “I-” He swallowed, looking at the marble tiles. “I’m sorry.”

The priest smiled. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He turned away and walked through a side door, leaving Kid alone in the church’s nave. Guilt churned in Kid’s stomach as his eyes alighted on the donation box by the altar, the crowbar hanging heavy in his jacket pocket. His feet felt leaden as he made his way to it, pulling the cold length of iron from his coat.

He stared at the box for a long moment, hesitating even though he knew speed was of the essence. The priest could come back through the door at any minute, declare him a thief and have him sent to the labor camps. Kid bit his lip as he laid the length of iron along the top of the wooden box and let go. He couldn’t do it. The man didn’t deserve this.

His gaze lingered on the altar a moment before he turned away, walking between the pews to the door on the far side of the room. His stomach grumbled as he walked across the church, almost convincing him to turn back. Kid held his course. As he placed a hand on the door leading outside, he heard the creaking of hinges from the nave. He flinched involuntarily, frozen for a moment, though he knew he had nothing to fear.

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The padding sound of footsteps sounded behind him, and Kid looked over his shoulder. It was the woman he stole the necklace from, Mother Helena. She was an older woman, lines beginning to set into her plain features. Her hair was twined into a tight braid that hung over her shoulder, gray intermingling with the brown.

He could still remember her scream as he tore the pendant from her throat and disappeared into an alley. Kid frowned and pushed the door open, letting in a stream of sunlight and a gust of cold air.

“Wait!” She called, an almost pleading tone to her voice as her pace quickened.

Kid hesitated, tensing as she neared, ready to dash to the anonymity of the streets outside. He bit his lip as she closed the distance, her hands clutching her skirts to keep them from tripping her. She was winded as she stopped mere paces away. “You don’t have to go,” she said.

Kid couldn’t meet her eyes and he made a careful study of the marble tiles of the floor. He stayed silent.

A frown crossed the woman’s face, and she took a step toward him. Kid stepped away, pushing the door wider. Mother Helena raised her hands in a calming gesture and Kid caught sight of her pendant clutched in one.

Slowly she reached toward him, the gold shining in the beam of sunlight. “Take it, please,” she said.

Kid felt tears brimming in his eyes. “I- I can’t- I’d just pawn it for food.”

She shook her head, pressing her hand forward with conviction. “Then it will be put to good use,” she said, her frown turning into a slight smile.

Kid felt a tear run down his cheek as he reached out to her, his pale skin a sharp contrast to her bronzed flesh. He clutched the gold in his palm, her fingers brushing his as she released the pendant. Kid stared at the gold in his hand. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Go with peace,” she said, “And there will always be a bed here if you need one.”

Kid swallowed, nodding noncommittally.

She said nothing more as he slipped between the doors and walked down the steps of the church to the streets of the inner city below. He let out a deep breath, the tension bleeding from him.

Divines, he was a shit thief.

He shook as a chuckle escaped his lips then looked to the golden bird he cradled in his palm. He wouldn’t sell it. Not yet. It'd only been a day since he'd eaten. He could keep going. Kid looked down the frosty streets. Most honest folks were at work by now, and the streets were- empty?

Kid blinked, looking both ways down the street and not seeing a single soul. The shutters were latched shut on most homes. The hairs on his arm stood up. Something had happened while he'd been in the church. At sunrise, the city had seemed normal.

Kid bit his lip. He needed to get beyond the city walls where it was safe- relatively speaking. He set off at a brisk pace, keeping a wary eye out for guards. On a normal day, they'd question his presence here without an adult. He might end up with a beating or the confiscation of whatever coin he had on him for the guard's gambling purposes.

But today, Kid felt something more serious was going on. Kid's breath caught as he caught the shine of sunlight against metal turning around a corner. He dove into the nearest alleyway. The corridor between the two buildings was blocked by a wall of snow twice as tall as he was. Kid pressed his back to it, trying to make himself as small as possible.

He held his breath as he heard irregular stomping sound of boots against cobblestones. A moment later, Kid saw the first man in the group begin to pass. His cloak was black and held the blood-red Briar of House Thorne. The Earl's men. The guard bellowed a laugh that echoed to his comrades behind him. Blessedly, they did not seem to be very alert, kicking at small snow drifts and fussing with their cloaks as they trudged down the boulevard.

Kid froze as he locked eyes with the last man in the group. The soldier stopped, a frown crossing his bearded face as his hand fell to the axe at his side. Kid felt as if that moment lasted an eternity as he gazed into the man's dark eyes. The guard shook his head and turned from Kid, following his squad.

Kid finally remembered to breathe, and his breath came too quickly. That was not normal. The man had just spared him some cruel fate, of that Kid was sure. He considered running back to the church to seek sanctuary there, but that would take him past the group of guardsmen. Besides, he needed to check on his mother. He didn't know how long she'd manage to last without him.

Kid mustered his courage and peeked around the corner of the alley. The street was clear, and the Thorne soldiers had their backs to him. Kid dashed around the corner, running to the next intersection clear of snow. He turned down it, heading in the direction of the gates.

From behind, he heard the scuff of boots against the cobblestones. Kid didn’t hesitate, taking off in a sprint down the street. A series of curses sounded from behind him, followed by the thumping sound of boots pounding down the street. Kid glanced over his shoulder to see a half dozen Greencloaks pursuing him from nearly a block away. They were gaining on him.

Kid’s breath came in ragged gasps as he ran. His eyes alighted on a patch of ice lining the corner of the intersection ahead of him. He leapt over it, diving into a roll. He winced as his shoulder collided with the cobblestones, but the roll took most of the force from it. He stumbled to his feet, continuing at a run as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

As he neared the next intersection, he heard a yelp followed by a series of crashes and curses. Kid turned the next corner, not sparing a look back. The street was clear ahead, but Kid dove into the nearest alley. This one was also filled with snow, but Kid began to burrow, digging out clumps of the powdery snow as he forced his frame into the snow drift. Kid’s hands quickly went numb as he clawed his way forward, an animal terror driving him forward until he felt the oppressive weight of the snow across his whole body.

Kid waited, carefully maintaining the pocket of air around his face. He could hear the sound of footsteps on the road beyond the alley. He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone of the guards was decidedly unpleasant. Kid kept very still, glancing at the golden pendant still clutched in his hand. He tucked it into the sleeve of his jacket, tying the leather tong around his forearm as well as his numb fingers would allow.

Kid waited in the snow, shivering. Had they gone? It was impossible to tell from inside the snow drift. But, he couldn’t stay here much longer unless he wanted somebody to find his frozen body here after the thaw. He listened intently for a moment. Nothing but the wind.

He took a deep breath before he pushed himself backwards, kicking with his feet to clear the snow behind him. A moment later, he felt his leg emerge into the air outside. A hand grabbed it. Kid screamed as he was roughly dragged from the snowdrift. A dark-skinned soldier in a shining bronze helm stood over him, fist raised.

Kid spat blood, head reeling and spots dancing across his eyes. He saw the man raise his hand again, then all went black.