Gray and sand-colored stones made up the large arid city of Trillonia. From the outer walls that surrounded the lower city, to the large nearly unscalable walls that made up the high city, everything was a sandy gray. The city skyline fit well in the brownish-green semi-arid region, and it could almost disappear in front of the tall Trill Onth Iath mountains behind it. While it did sometimes rain in this region, it was a rare occurrence and today was unusually overcast.

  The air felt moist with the promise of a good artificial rain, brought about by the city’s wizards and sorceresses. Water was scarce in the semi-arid region, and the rain would prove valuable to the residents, particularly the farmers just outside the city’s walls. Slowly, tiny drops of rain began to materialize around the thin strands of water mana that was coursing through the sky. The cool drops would slowly start pattering the ground, along with any residences still in the streets. One resident in particular felt her off-white, and unwashed cloak began to grow heavy with the accumulating moisture. As it grew damp it began to give off a subtle air of rodent musk.

  “Shit.” Her voice, more of a squeak than a whisper.

  Normally the rain wouldn’t bother the young resident, she may have even enjoyed it. But today was different, she had somewhere she needed to be, and a wet cloak would not be ideal. The added weight would undoubtedly slow her down when she needed to be quick. Plus, she was vaguely aware of how her smell might attract some attention. Not to mention being a touch embarrassing.

  She considered using a spell to cloak her musk along with some of her appearance but decided against it. It was better to save her mana in case she really needed it later.

  Moving quickly through the streets was easy for her, even in her damp state. Being smaller and nimbler than most, let her pass through the tight alleyways in a sprint, and move through the occasional crowds that were still out in the rain. Her knowledge of the city’s streets meant she didn’t need to stop and consider the labyrinth that was Trillonia’s roads, and she could keep pace. Her goal was one of the several small shop up in the high market of the High City.

  She had been collecting information for months, learning what specific nobles and aristocrats did, where they went, who they trusted. It was a lot of information, but she was quite capable and could remember almost everything people said around her. In particular, she knew of one fat noble who was hosting a party tomorrow afternoon. His attendant and butler were both sick and he didn’t trust his slaves with coins. So of course he was going to buy what he needed in person.

  Slaves.

  Her upper arm itched even thinking about the word.

  If there was one thing she hated, it was slavers and slave owners. In truth, there were probably bigger and easier scores in the city, but this man was the perfect target for her for reasons beyond just the coins.

  Slowing she came to the Market Street Gate at the top of the yellow stone stairway that was aptly called the golden stairway. This gate marked the proper inside of the high city. Normally she’d have gone through one of the other gates, like the north-west Backroad gate. She knew at least a few of the guards that manned there, and it would have made passage easier. But it was further, and the rain had already slowed her down more than she expected.

  As she approached the gate house at the top of the stairs, she did her best to hide in the small crowd. Lowering her head, she pulled her hood tight. Maybe they’d think she was one of these people’s kids.

  “Halt. I need to see identification.” The guard at the gate was stopping random people that walked though. For a moment, she considered going into the city’s underworks or sewers to bypass it. But that could have been a bad idea. She knew the underworks as well enough, but it was a true maze down there, and she didn’t have the time to be careful or to get lost.

  Running short of the one thing she couldn’t steal, she held out hoped as she slowly passed them. For a moment it seemed like they wouldn’t check her. But of course, they did.

  “Young girl, stop, the high city is closed for a Vallhorn Reception. I need to see some identification or proof of business.”

  Pausing she took a moment to consider if making a run for it could work. They wouldn’t catch her, probably. But it would certainly complicate things, and worse, slow her down.

  “Little miss.” The guard approached her.

  Thinking quickly, she settled on a plan of action that often worked, pity.

  Removing the hood, a large set of mouse ears poked up from a messy head of blond and brown hair. Her light olive skin quickly grew wet with the rain, and a few tears she forced from green eyes. “I’m just looking for my mother. I was supposed to follow her to the high market and I got lost.”

  “Your mother?” The guard spoke back in a flat tone. It was hard to tell if he was buying it or not.

  “Yes. She’s a servant for Lord Micheal and was coming up to pick up some fancy bread from a baker.” The guard’s face remained solid as mossy stone.

  Panicking a bit, her tempo increased. “Our lord has some important guests and needed good bread from the High Market bakers. She needs me to help carry it.” It was clear he wasn’t completely buying it, and she let her legs grow taunt preparing to bolt for it.

  The other guards looked over in annoyance. “Hey, I need your help man, this line is getting long. Just let the kid through.”

  With a sigh, the other guard moved back to his post. “Don’t cause trouble.”

  A smile and nod, and then she ran on her way once more. Luck or skill didn’t matter, all that mattered was she was now in The High market. Around her shops peddled expensive wears, fine clothes, and expensive jewelry. Armor shops showcased their expensive and enchanted chest pieces. Next to them, weapons shop show showed off their own enchanted and fine blades. A glint from one store in particular caught her eye as she slowed slightly to study it. It was small, a silver bladed sword. Or more accurately a dagger. Probably useless in real combat, but still pretty and probably worth some coins. There were several more on display, almost unattended, but with those annoying enchanted tags on them.

  Maybe one day she would try to grab one and fence it. But not today. Too much risk, and there were better targets ahead.

  ‘The golden Apple’, an unofficial name for the food and produce stalls in the High Markets. These places all charged far more than their goods were worth, usually to rich nobles, aristocrats, or fools, sometimes all three. Many of these shopkeepers pride themselves on the quality and appearance of their goods, word was you would never see a blemish on any produce bought up here.

  Unlike the lower markets you generally weren’t allowed to touch them before buying. Though, rotten food was unlikely up here, so it wasn’t completely necessary.

  “No. I will not pay that. Do you know who I am?” The sound of a boisterous rich noble could be heard though out the market. It was a voice she had heard before, a man who thanks to his own foolishness and large mouth was an easy and common mark. A man whose name was as relevant as he was, which is to say not at all.

  The Nobleman stood by the food stand further arguing with the vendor over the cost of the fruit he was buying. The fool of a man having never brought from the marketplace before had no idea how to price things or negotiate. Yelling at the merchant that his prices were too high was unlikely to get him to reduce them much. But it would give the little thief a good distraction to snatch the coin bag dancing around the animate round man.

  Staring at it she wondered how many coins were in the bag. It seemed to be quite large, bursting almost. It was attached to his hip with a thin but potentially strong leather cord. She twisted the iron ring on her left hand, on one end was a small but very sharp spike that could cut that cord with almost no effort. The problems were his cloak was in the way, and he was keeping his right arm down, probably to help protect the large purse. She couldn’t just lift it off him, she needed him to pick up his cloak and expose it for her. This wouldn’t be like the pockets she picked in the past, but she had an idea. She just needed to get close to him and get him angry.

  Next to the man was another far more well-built man. Likely his personal guard. At least he looked like a former guard anyway. Particularly how he held himself, different from just a bodyguard, like a man who had experience and pride. His presence could make things a bit more challenging, but maybe she could use him?

  Thinking of excuses to get closet to the noble, her solution became obvious, she was here to find her mother after all. Maybe he was the right person to help her. The mouse spent a moment organizing her face, making sure she looked slightly distressed, or at least more so than normal.

  She pulled at the personal guard’s side. “Excuse me mister guard I’m looking for my mother.”

  With an air of surprise, the hard man looked down at her. His expression changed from one stone to something slightly softer, and he smiled. “I’m sorry little miss. I think you’re confused, I’m not a guard anymore. I can’t help you.”

  A strong air of kindness emanated from the man, despite his outward appearance of stone and ice, he seemed like an incredibly soft and gentle person. A perfect mark she thought. She just needed to push a little harder.

  “Oh. I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do.” Her sleeves move to her eyes, drying the subtle tears she was forcing to appear.

  The noble had stopped yelling at the shopkeeper as his attention switched to his guard in further annoyance.

  The young girl tried not to smile; her plan was going perfectly. That coin bag would be hers in a moment.

  The guard kneeled in front of the girl, and she took the opportunity to step just a tiny bit more to the side. Just within reach of the bag. “What the problem little miss?”

  “I’m sorry, I was just looking for my mother. She was supposed to be here to get bread for our lord’s manor.” The fake tears kept coming and she inched closer to the bag.

  “Ok, why don’t we go find a real guard to help you.” The strong man smiled at her, and for just a moment, she almost felt guilty. Almost.

  With that the noble was now visibly angry. How dare this street trash interrupt him and steal his body guard, he thought

  The less than noble man raised his right hand, opening himself up as he slapped her away from the both of them. Everyone watched as the back of his hand stuck her face, even his guard who seemed to be more annoyed by his employer than the child.

  As she fell backwards, her hand was just able to barely touch the coin bag. That small sharp ring on her finger slipped over the leather strand and liberated it from his belt. It was perfect, and with all his movments he wouldn’t even feel the weight difference. Quickly she shoved it into her cloak while she hit the ground.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “I’m sorry. I was just looking for my mother.” She sobbed on the ground, for a moment more. Just to make sure they bought it, and give her a chance to further shove it into one of the many hidden pockets she was laying on top of.

  “I don’t care about you miserable urchin. Leave my guard alone and stay out of my sight.” The man was even worse than she expected. It made the theft all the sweeter for her though.

  On shaky legs she stood and ran away from the stall. The noble’s yelling carried even further now, as he demanded reparations from the merchant for having to hit her. He hadn’t noticed the missing bag yet.

  She turned left down a small side street that ran along Vallhorn Road. A large smile crossed her face. The whole theft was perfect. Her face still stung a bit, and she could tase a little blood, but that would heal. She laughed a little as felt the weight in cloak pull at her.

  How many coins did she get? She had to find out. Just north of the high market was a secluded set of alleyways around the street called quite literally “Back Road”. This Backroad area was unclaimed by any gang, and low in traffic. It was a perfect place to count her gains and figure out her next step.

  Still, she needed to be careful. Even in the high city there were gangs and other thieves. Most made their coins by targeting the lower classes that made their way up here. Guards were much less likely to care that way.

  Finding a good overhang, the cloaked figure removed the makeshift hood and gave her dark blond hair a shake. With the hood popped up her rather large sized ears once more also unfolded. She gave the small money bag a light toss only to catch it quickly. The weight of the coins and amount suggested these were mostly silver, but maybe 1-2 gold pieces as well. She smirked, happy in her successful hunt of the day.

  Quickly glancing around she emptied the contents in her hands. It was a lot, 28 silver Trillonia coins, and 1 standard gold coin. She had hopped for two gold, but one still was much more than she would usually steal.

  She took the gold coin and felt around the thick band of her shorts for a small hidden leather pouch that was sown in. Just big enough for a few coins. Quickly she stored it, out of site. Anyone who might frisk her would never feel or find it.

  The rain began to fall heavy again, and the mouse girl hurried on her way. She had one more thing to do before she headed back to ‘The Alleys’ in the lower city. She wanted to make sure at least some of the silver coins were put to good use before the rest were taken from her. Rash used to tell her it was a good idea to spread your wealth around a bit when you had a big score. It was a good way to make allies and friends. That’s exactly what she would do with some of these coins.

  The walk through the city was made easier as people began to leave the streets due to the heavy rain. It made her original concerns seem unnecessary. She crossed through the backroads, out the western gate where the guards barely acknowledged her presence. She moved though the mix used areas into the lower market, and finally, about an hour later, ended up in the run down, so called Free Market.

  Technically, the Free Market didn’t really exist. It was considered a very low-income residential space, part of the more northern poor residential zone, however, the city was unwilling to tell the residents they couldn’t sell goods here. The large number of ex and escaped slaves with little to lose, probably helped with that decision. Coincidentally, the norther residential zone was occasionally called “Free Town” for this reason.

  The Free Market was much smaller than either the low or high market, but still was a bit bigger than what you might expect to find in a village. Like in the other markets, you could find anything you wanted. Clothes, furniture, jewelry, and of course food. All cheap, if dubious in quality.

  The mouse jogged through the very narrow street up to a produce stall that was still operating late, even in the rain. A large man stood at the stall, his face warming into a small smile as he saw one of his favorite customers come up to him.

  “Taven! I need a basket.” She smiled back at him.

  After several minutes of negotiation, the mouse girl handed 3 silvers over to him, and got back 12 copper coins, and a full basket of various fruits.

  Taven was of course happy to take the coins off the mouse girl in exchange for a large bushel of produce. The weight of the basket was considerable for the smaller girl, but she seemed capable of carrying it roughly the half mile back to The Alleys. Stumbling only occasionally.

  A light brown skin man in his late 20s stood at the entrance to the alley. His right eye was blue, but the left eye missing, replaced by a patch. A Knife scar around it a subtle indication of how he had probably lost it. Behind him, a younger pale skinned woman with ice blue eyes and platinum colored hair played with a knife, making one wonder if she wasn’t the one who took his eye.

  This was the part of the day she really wasn’t looking forward too. It was unfair, unjust, and completely out of control.

  “You got pay the tax if you want to enter rat.” The one eyed man spoke.

  The woman just played with her knife and smiled at her. It was not a friendly smile.

  Lalaluie turned to the scary man, and smiled her largest most innocent smile. “I spent all my money on this basket of fruit. You don’t want the other kids to go hungry. Think of all the coins you’ll lose if they can’t thieve and beg!” She pleaded. It was probably hopeless, but worth a try.

  “You’re not trying to steal from me? Are you Lalaluie?” A deep and very terrifying voice came from behind her.

  Her smile dropped; and her face flattened. “Of course not Adem. I’m not dumb enough to do that.” She kept her voice as flat as possible, but a small tremor still escaped. Adem didn’t joke, he didn’t laugh, at least not at what any reasonable person would laugh at.

  Adem was the larger built man who was more or less in charge of the alleyways in this area. His skin was an olive color, like a skin lightly roasted by stepping into the sun. His black hair and blacker eyes might make you wonder if there was anything behind them or just a soulless void.

  To call him a bully would be an understatement. He was just mean, and bigger than most of them. Everything you brought into the alleyway or any areas his gang claimed was subject to ‘taxes’ as he called them. And anyone who ever lived here, was always ‘one of his citizens’, who had to pay more taxes. A thief who stole from other thefts, knowing the crime would never be punished, at least, not in court. Even trying to leave the city, cost a tax.

  Though, it did come with at least one benefit. Adem and his group were decent about protecting the alleyways and their inhabitants. No one had to worry about being taken by slavers, and the guards were all smart enough to never venture into this area. There were also a few guards who ‘knew’ to look the other way, from time to time.

  It wasn’t like he took everything. Just, most of it. At least, most of hers. The stronger you were, the more you could generally keep. It wasn’t like there was rule book for how much they took and kept.

  A heavy and strong hand laid on her shoulder and squeezed. It was gentle enough to not break bones but felt like it could.

  Slowly she reached in her cloak for the coin purse she stole earlier and handed it to the one-eyed man.

  “There should be 25 silver and 12 coppers in there, cyclops.”

  The man counted out the coins. “This all you got street rat?”

  A moment of worry came over her. But nothing of it showed. “That’s way more than most bring in, do you want me to empty my boots?”

  The hand on her shoulder squeezed, almost causing her to drop the basket. “Lalaluie isn’t going to steal from us. She’s to smart for that, aren’t you. Mouse?”

  “Yes.” She said meekly, trying not to cry from the pain.

  Cyclops looked over the basket of fruits. “And how much did that all cost.”

  She sighed “2 silvers and 12 coppers”.

  Adem let go of her shoulder. “It’s just fruit Cyclops, let it go.” The larger took the coin bag from cyclops and considered it for a moment. “I should probably keep all of this as your tax. I mean you did spend coins on that fruit.”

  He took two silver coins from the bag and placed them on top of the basket before grabbing a pear like fruit. “But a 100% tax wouldn’t be fair, would it?” He laughed and walked down the alley way.

  Cyclops nodded to her, allowing her entry to old and slightly smelly alley way.

  Hungry eyes stared at her as she walked down the close corridor. Shaking off her altercation with Adem, she gave a subtle smile, knowing what was coming.

  “Oh, I hope no one tries to take all this delicious food I spent all this money on.” Lalaluie spoke into the darkness.

  As if on queue, a hoard of small ravenous creature leapt from the shadows and began to grab and steal from the basket what they could. Lalauie made only a halfhearted attempt to stop the thefts, smack and bonking the slower children on the head as she was able. Small little burst of laughter escaped her mouth as she tapped a few on the head, a gentle reminder to them, that they needed to be quicker. Just like what was done with her when she was a bit younger.

  “Is that street rat giving out food again?” One of the older thieves laughed at her expense.

  “Idiot, everyone is in it for themselves. Kid’s just making herself a mark.” Another dismissed her.

  Lalauie ignored the common jeers and complaints from the older thieves. This was exactly what Rash used to do, and it was something Lalaluie wanted to keep doing. No mater what it cost her. A memory of her adopted older sister that she would keep alive. It wasn’t fair and right that children like her had to suffer merely for being born.

  Besides, you never knew when one of the other children might become an ally or have something you need. There was not loyalty on the streets, not really. But, sometimes people did pay back their debts. At least, it was a better chance than doing nothing.

  Finally, the slower children came. Some limped, others would walk funny as if something inside of them was wrong. The basket was almost empty, but Lalauie had purposely left some of the better items on the bottom for them. She made no effort to stop them, even in gest. Instead, she just smiled at the young vagabonds. Unlike the other children, she had to be gentler with these little ones. Smiling as they took just as greedily as their older siblings. Lastly a small girl with a face full of scars from old burns approached the basket. Her long-matted hair obscured her scared over and missing eye. She grabbed the last of the fruit from the basket.

  Lalauie grabbed at the child and laughed as she held her tightly. “Gotcha!” she laughed, as the child giggled and let out a mock cry.

  “How’s my favorite urchin doing today?” She gentility kissed the child’s forehead as the small, damaged child began to notch the large red apple.

  “Good.” The child smiled and spoke between munches. “I got 5 coppers today!”

  “Wow! 5 whole coppers. That’s enough to buy your own apple next time!”

  “But, Adem took them. He said I needed to pay the alley tax” Both their smiles subsided a bit. But that was life in the Alleyways.

  The two sat there for several moments, while the younger girl ate. “Did you try reading that book I got for you?”

  The tiny girl froze.

  “Eh?”

  The small girl, looked down, and in a whisper “No. It was too hard.”

  “Litta, I don’t want you to be in the Alleys forever. You need to learn to read, and then maybe get a real job somewhere using that great brain I know you have.” Lalaluie gave the child another kiss on the head.

  The two weren’t related, but still Lalaluie treated the younger Litta like her little sister. Just like Rash told her too.

  “Do you want to try and read it together now?”

  “Yeah!”

  Night quickly fell across the already dark Alleyway.

  The mouse girl climbed up a set of broken stairs, up along a wall with more cracks than bricks. Her nimble body making small jumps and leaps that most others wouldn’t even try. It was here, high up in one of the abandoned buildings, that she squeezed inside of a small room. Almost no one came up here, only Lalaluie and only a few of the other smaller and acrobatic thieves could even hope to reach it. The room wasn’t all that big, on the floor was mat of straw and cloth bag full of various rags and a single change of clothes. This was her home or perhaps more accurately, the bed place, where she slept in comfort away from others.

  A street rat had to be careful where they slept, you never knew who might be around you when you closed your eyes. But up here, was safe, mostly. It meant she could actually get some decent rest.

  Laying down on the straw mat, she could see out of a crack in the building’s wall. The clouds had subsided. A beam of moonlight streamed through, illuminating the small space in subtle light.

  Lalaluie rubbed at the side of her pants, shifting out the gold coin, and stared at its a while. Twisting it in her fingers her mind ran with thoughts. It had been months since she had such a large score. Add to that, Adem and the others were usually quick to pull anything she made as a “tax”, it made saving coins very hard. But their greed got the better of them today, as they took the bag of silver worth barely half what this one gold coin was worth. Of course they let her keep 2 silver coins as well, ‘a 100% tax rate would be unfair after all’ she thought to herself and laughed at the absurdity.

  This single gold coin was probably her biggest single day takeaway yet, and it felt as heavy in her hand as it was light.

  What was she even saving for? Litta. It was the only answer she could think of. One day, when she had saved enough, maybe 60 gold, she was going to leave the city. Adem would want his share to leave. Rumor was 10 gold to leave the gang, who knows if he’d keep to that though. Still if he did, that would leave 50 gold, which might be enough to last ten years if she lived a meager lifestyle, maybe a bit more. She could find some kind of honest, or more likely semi-honest work. Even find a small house in a smaller city somewhere else and take Litta with her. That is what Rash would have wanted her to do.

  She quickly hid the gold in her hidden pocket and added the two silvers to it. Just enough space for the three coins. She would have to shove them in one of her secret stashes’ tomorrow morning. How much did she have saved so far, maybe 9 or 10 gold? A bit less than a fifth of the way there.

  A light breeze caused her to shiver a bit, one of the problems with being so high up. At least the rags she kept in the bag were warm, as she covered herself in them. Laying her head down on the makeshift straw bed a beam of moonlight graced her face from one of the holes in the wall,.

  ‘Today was a good day.’ Were her last thoughts before nodding off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.