Rhys felt some pressure in his abdomen. Gah I knew that meal wa- the pressure deepened, so quickly that it caused him to gasp for air. Rhys woke up with a start, his neck craning he – stopped dead in his tracks.

Shitshitshitshit-

There was a blade across his throat, and the sudden jerk had moved his neck right into it. Self-assisted beheading was not a fortunate way to die.

It burns.

But Rhys could not move. He felt the shallow tear in his skin. The thin line of blood seeping out and then down his shirt. Yet at that moment Rhys did nothing but focus on the eyes of his assailant. With the man’s knee on his abdomen Rhys had no way to make space for his hands to secure the dagger. Defeated, he could only glare.

Anger, or maybe it was desperation in this case, had given Rhys a certain degree of clarity. Not just visually, but also mentally, the kind that warriors sought to obtain on a more permanent basis. Rhys slowed his breath and assessed his situation rationally. The wound on his neck was minor, a messy one for sure but not lethal. The man was not that much taller than Rhys, his build lean rather than muscular. He positioned himself with one knee on Rhys’ abdomen, the other on the ground, leaning forward one arm for support the other holding the blade in place. A pose that was far from perfect. One side had to be off balance.

Rhys decided to go for the arm support. If things worked out there would be enough leeway for Rhys to roll into a better position. If the arm gave out though, the blade on the other hand would draw blood, more deeply this time. Rhys quickly began to move his hands in an arc to draw enough momentum to –

The man got off. Starting from his hands and pushing off the ground he easily picked himself up leaving Rhys flailing about awkwardly.

What?

“Seriously, what was that arm flailing bit just now. Thought you were having a seizure so I pulled myself up,” the man said chuckling at his words. The man’s face was relaxed, as if he wasn’t about to brutally murder someone as they slept.

Rhys ground his teeth together. That was not the point. He did not voice his elaborate plan however. The air was tense, the man’s nonchalance did little to sooth Rhys’ nerves. After an excruciating period of time that would have bled Rhys to death if it were not for being metaphorical, Rhys spoke.

“Why did you try to kill me,” the words coming out softer than he would have wanted.

“No introductions huh. I didn’t try to kill you, nearly did anyway. Seriously, you were a log why would I risk waking you up by kneeing you.”

The drink? Steve drank from it though… Rhys stopped for a second his brows furrowed. The realization that he had grossly underestimated the street skills of the king of the streets was shameful, but an important lesson to learn. Steve you sly bastard, slipping something in like that you. Definitely pimp material.

“Steve, huh?” Rhys said, pointedly looking at the man.

“Nah, I’m actually a Joe.”

What the fu-

“Oh, you were referring to the boss, my bad,” Joe corrected himself quickly. Steve, huh. He’s gotten awfully chummy with the boss. Joe sighed, the casual blade meets throat encounter was meant as a scare tactic, the boy did not seem to have been affected though. The boss would probably blame Joe for that regardless.

As Joe sighed and paced around, Rhys too the opportunity to put himself in a better position. A bit further away close to a stack of books that he could use as cover.

Joe finally made up his mind and turned to Rhys.

“As you know, there’s a small test you have to complete. I’m here to give you the details. Now -“

“The bit with the knife then?” Rhys cut in.

He shrugged, “a bit of fun, testing your awareness, reflexes. General response to danger. I’d have failed you.” Joe looked solemn as he was a stern school teacher. He picked up a handkerchief from his pocket and threw it over.

Bastard. Rhys made good use of it.

“Now as I was saying. The job is simple, it’s also a repeat target so we’ve got the ins and outs.”

Oh, that’s reliable, who wouldn’t be smart enough to improve their security after being robbed once already, right?

“It’s going down in 3 days, since it’s also a test of sorts you’ll be going in alone.”

Calendars were rather rare in Soccordia considering how no one really had anything to look forward to. Rhys flipped through the days in his head. 53rd Sunday? He perked up the moment he realized. There was one day however. A day celebrated across the Seven Kingdoms. Even in the darkest of lands. A day of new beginnings.

“Novus Init?” Rhys asked excitedly.

Joe face turned to surprise when he heard Rhys. “Yeah… how’d y- “

“You want me to pull a heist on the most sacred day of the year, huh. What next, the target being the royal treasury?” Rhys chuckled at himself, this was getting out of hand.

Joe paused for a second, his face contorting into what looked like a mix of annoyance, surprise and… pity? “Yeah…”

Huh? HUH? “HUH?” Rhys said bewildered.

Joe rolled his eyes as if Rhys was being a drama queen, his expression returned to normal, “everybody will be away from the castle during Novus including the guards, and our slothful King and his retinue. Getting into the treasury is up to you, brute force, pick the lock, lift a key.” He shrugged.

“There’s a chessboard with all the pieces. Get it, and whatever you want and then get out. We’ll set up a meeting soon after. And then we discuss your employment. based on your performance of course.”

Wait wait wait, what about logistical support? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I SHOULD FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET IN! Rhys screamed internally.

“Why thank you Master Joe, these details have truly been useful. I look forward to using them to my advantage,” Rhys said sarcastically.

Joe shrugged and began to walk towards the stairs, “how’d you find me?” Rhys called out.

He didn’t even bother turning around, “pay attention, kid.”

What is with these dudes and calling me kid? Joe looking as if he was in his early 20’s calling Rhys a ‘kid’ was no doubt insulting. The vague statement he left with didn't really help that impression either.

Finally, without any unwanted visitors Rhys could focus on trivialities. It was close to high noon but the sky was clouded over. Hopefully it would rain, giving Rhys a chance to wash clean his blood-soaked clothes. The main tributary of a river split right in the middle of Soccordia, creating a 3 way divide within the city. The two larger parts referred to as the Lower City and the third more smaller piece called the Upper City. The river tributaries were the most convenient source of water for the city. Rhys however lived nowhere close to one and had to often defer to still rainwater for his daily needs.

Climbing up to the top of the building he lifted a small metal sheet and covered the hole in the roof. Rhys then daintily placed himself over a ledge and waited for the sky to crack open. To pass the time he started thinking about the job. Wracking his head over the job Rhys had no time for respite. Running away meant a slow death, getting caught meant execution, and succeeding, that just set him up for a whole other world of pain.

Seeing no solution to his problems Rhys cleared his mind and simply gazed into the distance. People scampering around below, the occasional petty thief getting caught red handed with a load of bread. Men sitting by working on their craft, women patching together clothes or calling out to men walking by, a different kind of craft.

Rhys smiled, but no smile could hide that sadness. Of all the places in he world, this one huh?

At that moment Rhys found his resolve. The sky broke and the rain came hard washing away the blood and the tears, but Rhys remained. He clenched his teeth and bared the cold. Succeeding meant pain, but pain was not death. And Rhys knew, he was not meant to die here.

___________________Extra___________________

Elsewhere at the other end of the Lower City, on the top floor of a certain abandoned building, all but bare. Except for three windows, two men, young and old, and a single chair.

Steve enjoyed watching the rain. It reminded him of how easily things were washed away if enough pressure was applied – just like people.

“How’d the boy react?” Steve asked.

“Don’t think the scare went well, neither did the job description. The boy understood though. I think... he’ll do it.” Joe responded.

“Mmhmm,” Steve mumbled uncaringly. Live or die that boy was one of many, sure he was the last gear but once it began turning, he would have no choice but to go along. Just like the rain.

______________________E.___________________