“Turn around boy.”

The boy’s eyes flickered over from the ruined landscape below to look up at the newcomer. ‘Boy’ may not have been the most accurate term, a short stature was not a fair representative of age. At 19, he was almost a man. Just not in size that is.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, Rhys’ gaze rested on the figure standing right next to him. A shiver went down his spine, not because of the rain, no. Rather at the grim prospect that this man, potbellied, bald, and with a squeaky voice to boot – had managed to sneak up on him.

“I must be losing my touch,” Rhys whispered under his breath.

“Whas that?”

It was never a smart move to sit down on a cliff, feet over the ledge. The atmosphere was serene with the gentle pitter patter of the rain, maybe that was what had lulled Rhys’ senses. And it was ridiculously easy for someone to blindside you. Regardless, if by any chance your typical bad-guy chanced by you unawares, as was quite possible in Soccordia, it was very likely that you would die in this position.

“What do you want?” Rhys growled reproachfully. Fear, after all, meant nothing when cornered. Nor did that saying about cornered mice often apply, tactical disadvantages were hard to overpower with brute strength.

“You’re Rhys, aren’t cha? The kid who’s been gallivanting around stealing from the nobles. That ain’t good for business ye hear me? The Big Boss wants to talk to you ‘bout that. So follow me.” He motioned his hands.

Rhys’ attention had drifted back to the view below but at the mention of the ‘Big Boss’ he reconsidered the scope of his problems. It seemed as if his Robin Hood schemes were getting noticed by the top brass of the underworld, or would it be bottom brass considering it was ‘under’. Rhys furrowed his brows then quickly remembering his situation, shook his head.

Focus, he told himself. This could go two ways, either he had made a good enough impression meriting a chance to move up - or down? - in the world or he had made a spectacular impression, so much so that he had to die. Rhys shuddered at the thought.

Regardless, his options were limited. Nobody else here in the capital city was referred to as ‘Big Boss’ and the title itself was of such a caliber, that while generic, it was not thrown around on a whim. Rhys could refuse to partake in the ‘conversation’, but this man was your typical lackey and his death probably meant more to Rhys than to the man’s employer.

“So, uh…” The voice broke Rhys’ train of thought. “You comin’?”

Rhys’ laughed out loud at that in a vague attempt to boost his confidence, there’s no way I’m going to die here. He picked himself up from the ledge and used his hands to wipe away the mud before it crusted over. His shirt was soaked and his short hair did little to stop him from having to squint to get a better look at the stranger’s face but he felt warm inside.

It’s show time.

The capital, Acedia, which lay at the heart of the Kingdom and continent sought to defy every notion of grandeur the title of a ‘Capital' could inspire. Instead of well-ordered streets with unique architecture, markets that enticed citizens of other kingdoms and the ideal populace – Acedia was home to the most decrepit city structure, miserable populace, and instead attracted the worst of the worst. This description would entail that things might possibly be different elsewhere in the Kingdom. Rhys didn’t believe that for a second.

Rhys was led through an assortment of narrow pathways that befit the occasion. More than once he cursed silently for losing his focus, after all if things turned sour he would need to be able to find his way back. On either side of the pathways were tall buildings, so called accommodation for the citizens. But the worn bricks and windowless walls betrayed how deprave things really were in the city. Their lacklustre nature made it difficult for Rhys to keep his internal map running. Rhys dismissed the idea of climbing the walls to get away, the rain made sure he did.

There are two ways to do well in Soccordia. Either travelling toward the port cities and becoming a fisherman, or by being born in the capital as nobility, which was a matter one did not have a say in. Though there is a third, more frowned upon vocation – larceny. The fact that the average citizen was barely scraping by meant that thieves had to target the nobility. While a few cases here and there did not attract much attention, once the market becomes too saturated things get harder for everyone, which was why Rhys was here he guessed.

“Go on inside, the Boss’s waiting for you on the top floor.”

This building looked less decrepit than the others but Rhys was cautious as he walked up the stairs, taking firm steps to make sure he didn’t slip, all the while keeping an eye out for potential escape routes. After what seemed like forever, he finally made it to the top floor. As expected of a cliché entrance there were two huge doors in front of him.

It was then Rhys realized, It’s way too silent here. The lack of human life, both on the way to this building as well as while climbing the stairs was not something you would expect from the lair of an underworld boss. Unless, this was not his lair. After all, what self-respecting leader would lead an outsider to his base of operations.

Rhys sighed to himself, things aren’t that bad yet, he put on a smirk before going on to open the double-doors with as much flair as he could.

The room was empty, laid bare except for a huge arm-chair overlooking a window at the end of the room.

“Come on inside,” the man on the chair spoke, his voice resounding across the room.

Rhys almost missed the man, his body dwarfed by the chair he sat on. Rhys walked forward until he was standing an arm’s length in front of the chair, a position that gave him a full view of the man, close enough to throttle him if necessary.

The man looked to be in his mid-forties, greying hair, no real characteristic features. Except his eyes, a deep blue that seemed to twinkle. Rhys gauged him, by no means was this man weak, while he did seem to be slightly shorter than Rhys, which was really saying something, the man was rather muscular and his eyes permeated confidence. The self-assuredness that comes with power.

“Not what you expected eh? Well you aren’t the first. Taking my title quite literally.”

Rhys looked around, reassessing his surroundings once more before speaking.

“Uh, why am I here Mr. Big Boss sir,” Rhys asked as politely as he could, the sarcasm dripping off his voice.

“Ha, just call me Steve, kid.”

Rhys’ eyes twitched. Steve? STEVE??? Are you telling me that this man, the one that everyone knows and fears in Soccordia, as he who should not be messed with is named… Steve? The look on his face betrayed his thoughts.

Steve laughed before continuing. “Now, as you know, I control everything that goes on in the less than noble corners of Soccordia. The work of individuals like you, isn’t very…” he paused to look at Rhys.

“…profitable for my endeavors. Recently though my reputation has begun to precede me. While work here in Acedia has grown stale it hasn’t stopped us from thriving. As such, I do occasionally get contracts for work in the other Kingdoms.”

Steve picked up a bottle of what seemed to be alcohol from his side and started drinking from it. Rhys considered the consequences of killing this man. The lack of lackeys was probably a statement. One that put Rhys in his place while implying, “at over twice your age, while drunk and quite possibly unarmed I would still kick your ass.”

“So uh... do I get to live?” Rhys was blunt, every moment he was here was one more moment Steve had to size him up. His piercing gaze told him as much and you would not want such a man figuring you out.

He put the bottle back down, using the sleeves of his overcoat he wiped his mouth. “Normally yes. Yes I would.”

His response was equally blunt. Rhys instinctively reached for the dagger hidden behind his back. He stayed his hand with his fingers gently gliding over the hilt of the blade.

“And really, it crossed my mind just now. Don’t speak unless I ask you to, kid” he emphasized the last bit as he turned back to looking out the window.

As if there was anything out there worth looking at, Rhys thought sullenly.

And maybe that was the point.

“Circumstances do change though, with the number of contracts I’m in the need for more… uh… contractors. The fact that these contracts are out of Soccordia means that turnover between contracts is quite long.”

Ah, that might explain the rather empty streets. As well as why I could go on about my merry thieving without stirring up a shitfest.

“So here we are, me a desperate starry-eyed man trying to make ends meet. And you, a boy looking for a chance for change.” He looked at me and winked.

“Uh…” Starry eyed? Was Steve also a pimp by any chance? All these double entendres.

“This isn’t a negotiation, and if you’re worried about these overseas contracts being death traps. Well, I am sending you with the best of my own. So you’ll die in good company.”

You would not work well in a marketing department would you Steve?

However, Rhys did flinch at that, his original assumption was that this was going to be a solo gig. After all that was how he operated. Yet, being a part of group especially of renowned thieves provided him with a measure of confidence. Though, should it have? The chance at getting to travel however made Rhys giddy with excitement.

The Big Boss turned back to Rhys, and for once he looked his part. His aura seemed to tower over Rhys.

He smiled as he spoke. “I do have a condition though, a small job to confirm your qualifications.”

What is this, a job interview for the dark depths of the underworld? Surprisingly well managed.

“One of my men will contact you with the logistics to this particular job soon, keep your eye out for him. He…. Likes to play around.”

What in the seven hells does that even mean...

With that Steve got off the chair and looked at Rhys once more in the eyes. Apparently satisfied with whatever he saw he began walking towards the end of the room.

“Hey uh… Steve… you forgot your drink?” Rhys called out.

“Keep it, think of it as a gift.” He answered.

Rhys wanted to mention how unhygienic it would be for Rhys to drink out of the same bottle, or how bloody ungenerous it was since Steve already drank a good bit of it. But he didn’t, there was little to be gained from such an endeavor.

Steve kept walking, just like that towards the end of the room... the one with a fireplace, not the door.

Rhys watched nervously, “Hey, look out for…”

Steve passed right through it.

“What the hell!?” The words came out late, confused, disbelieving. Rhys ran towards the wall and fumbled around looking for a crevice in the wall or a small protrusion or anything that would activate whatever hidden mechanism Steve used. Defeated Rhys stepped back. Perplexed and shocked by the ramifications at what he had witnessed Rhys stepped right back in and inspected the entirety of the wall once more, his hands akin to those that mourned a dropped ice-cream sundae on a warm summer day, hands of resignation

After a few minutes, he gave up. Sighing Rhys found his way back downstairs, bottle in hand, without any more surprises. Baldie was gone too, looks like I get to live.

Pulling on his memories of the way here and gently tracing his way backwards he found his way to a familiar street. Weaving his way in and out of the dispersing evening crowd to put off any committed pursuers, Rhys began the journey home. It was a lengthy walk, but it did give Rhys time to think about several things.

Soccordia was a magical dead-zone, that much was well known. That was how it used to be since the current King came into power and this was a while ago considering Augustus was immortal for all intents and purposes. It also explained the general state of the country. Magic was responsible for the generation of electricity and with it the myriad of technological advances it bought. Without it though, Soccordia was far behind every other Kingdom and its living conditions were… primitive. More relevant however was Steve’s escapade. The stunt he pulled was not magic and the only alternative was a piece of high-tech that let him phase, or teleport or something similar.

With this information in mind Rhys reassessed his impression of Steve, access to such technology was not commonplace, as far as Rhys knew it was the first of its kind. Logically, any such individual who did have such great reach should not be trifled with, even more so in Steve’s case considering who he was.

The job, that was what took up most of Rhys’ thoughts. He was still conflicted about whether this was the right way to go about things, whether Steve was setting Rhys up to fail - with everything till now being a ruse, was also a possibility. These thoughts clouded Rhys’ mind and while contemplating future decisions is often rational, it does mean that he had forgotten his most valuable tool, his gut.

___________________Interlude________________

“Did you really have to do that?”

“Hmm?” Steve stopped walking and turned to look at the man.

“Using the gate like that would make the boy suspicious no?”

“Doesn’t matter, the point was to leave an impression, and boy I think I did.” Steve grinned.

“As you say, Sir.

“Come now, the gears are about to start turning. I would rather you be ready lest we be crushed.”

______________________E.___________________

Phew, finally made it back. Doesn’t look like anyone followed me here either.

Rhys’ humble abode was situated atop one of many empty buildings towards the outskirts of the town. By some means the roof had caved in in the middle of and created a natural source of ventilation and light within the otherwise confined building. At this moment it was covered, a metal sheet to protect the interior from the rain. Rhys stumbled up to the roof and groaned in exertion as he heaved the metal sheet away. Dusk had rolled by and the pale moonlight that crept in was enough to go by, the rain had stopped so the sky was clear.

The day’s ordeals had left Rhys sufficiently tired and while not an early sleeper Rhys decided to indulge himself. Putting together a meal of hard bread and canned beans together from his meager supplies he washed it all down with the drink Steve had given him. I mean he drank from it himself, I suppose this would be okay. And just like that, all too easily, it was lights out.