Havenridge was one of the largest cities that populated human territory; the other big two being Whiteford and Ankorsham, the city of agriculture and the city of mining.

Being situated in the central, Havenridge had come to be known as the city of trades worldwide, and on the first week of each month, traders from all over the nations would gather over Mt. Gilleran (the mountain Havenridge was perched on) to make their businesses. This was the only time when the gates in between all three city districts were open, for the ease of movements of traders coming in and out all day every day.

This also meant that the security in the city was tripled around this time; mostly to stamp down any sorts of disorder that could possibly rise amongst the bustling.

Trading week began like it always did, with the creaking of wheels and the crackling of whips, accompanied by boastful chatters of men and women in flamboyant garbs that paled the disgustingly bright yellow and red shirt and pants Ty was dressed in. The path up the slope to the city entrance was steep and rocky, yet these traders would push their horses to the limit in the final stretch, eager for the prime locations in the higher districts, which sat further inside the city, encircled by the middle and the lower districts. Those who at the end of the line were inevitably traders that settled in Ty's district; people who were less exuberant with wagons and carts full of more practical commodities for sale.

'The blades better have been polished before you stack them onto the rack!' Alexi's voice boomed from behind the tent, shuffling out with swords swinging from his meaty arms a few seconds after. He dropped them onto the table without so much as another word, and Ty bit back a retort when one of the daggers rolled onto the dirty cobblestone concrete of Main Street. 'Come on now, boy, move your feet! You and Tobias seemed perfectly fine moving them two nights ago.'

Ty winced at the tone and begrudgingly trudged over to grab one of the polishing cloths, muttering lowly about the unfairness of it all as he did so. He had clearly polished the weapons last night. It was obvious Alexi was just looking for ways to punish him.

'What was that?' the man barked from behind him and he flinched.

'Nothing, sir!'

Last night Alexi had practically flown off the hinges when he found out about their little escapade on Falk's property. It was a full two hours of bellowing on his part regarding their foolishness and safety, and another about how they should've kept their noses out of things that didn't concern them. By the end of the night, Ty and Tobias were sent into their room without so much as a bite of supper.

At least he wasn't the only one bearing punishments, which usually he did, though to be fair usually he was the one causing trouble. Currently, Tobias was off somewhere buying materials Alexi needed to make more weapons with later in the week. And while this didn't seem like much of a task for Ty, it was definitely one hell of a job for Tobias. Normally, Alexi was the one who did this – as he was large enough to carry double the amount of ores Ty and Tobias could – but after last night, the man decided such a task was a suitable punishment. Ty was going to take a wild guess and assume the boy was only on his fifth run back home, with who knows how many more to go.

It was another half an hour before he got Alexi's approval on the swords and daggers; the blades practically shining under the sunlight, not a single water spot on sight. By then, most of the traders had settled, and crowds were starting to mill from one stall to another. Business started to pick up, and before noon even rolled around their coin pouch was halfway filled to the brim.

Ty was just about to grab the lunch Tobias had graciously packed for them when two men unmannerly trotted by their stall. Their horses were unlike the draft horses that pulled on heavy loads, but strong heavy black stallions that seemed to have been bred for riding.

The men themselves wore attires that contrasted to the colourful garments all around: grey-blue shirts and breeches with only a dark brown leather coat to wear off the cold. The shorter, fatter man had on a dark brown waistcoat; the brass buttons at his belly almost popping open under the strain as he struggled to get off his horse.

'Oye! Boy, take our horses to the nearest stable to be fed and watered! And make it fast – I don't have a lot of... patience...!'

Ty had to force down a grimace at the man panting and huffing before them. His dirt brown hair was wet with sweat, curling and dripping at the edge as if he had just come out of a river, and the tunic beneath his waistcoat was dark with perspiration. The man fell against their stall beam and pulled out a hanky to dab at his forehead, not caring that his weight had swayed their table so much a couple of items almost rolled off. Alexi moved just fast enough to keep the items idle.

'Grimshaw,' he ordered, gesturing to his companion before turning to Alexi, not even bothering Ty a second glance. 'Also, where is the nearest inn? We've been travelling outside of the cities and towns and have not slept in a real bed for weeks.' The two easily fell into a conversation on the taverns most common around these parts of the city.

The other taller rider – Grimshaw – dismounted and strode ahead, both bridles in one hand and a musket hanging loosely in the other. Ty was almost taken aback by his age. Had he not stepped forward, Ty would have thought the boy was someone in his late twenties. He had the physique of someone older, but up close, it was obvious he was only just a teenager and couldn't be that much older than Ty himself was.

He was tall and decently built, towering over Ty by at least half a head, more so if he hadn't been slouching, with curling auburn red hair tied into a tail and icy grey eyes that reminded one of a distant storm in brew. Ty wanted to look away, but he kept his gaze forwards; his back straightened if only to show he wasn't intimidated.

'Have them re-shod while yer' at it,' the boy said in a hard and snobbish voice, tinged with an unfamiliar accent, and dropped the leashes onto his open palm.

Ty could only gape, gobsmacked by the rude directness of the order. The redhead motioned to the horses with an incline of his head when Ty paused, unsure whether he should be the one to reshoe the horses or if Alexi should do it. He had only picked up the skill a few months ago, so he wasn't as good of a farrier as his adoptive father was. It took a glare from the overweight man chatting away and a sympathetic nod from Alexi for Ty to finally get moving. By then, the Grimshaw boy seemed to have lost interest in him, too busy regarding the people of the district with a look of aversion to notice Ty heading for the stable a street down from the bazaar.

'So, you men don't seem much like traders,' Alexi pointed, gesturing to the horses. 'Your first time in Havenridge?'

'No, we've been here before. We're actually looking for something very important this time 'round. Caught word that it might be in this city...'

'.... Well, if it's important, you probably won't find it in these here parts. Might wanna head on up to the more exorbitant districts. That's where the jewels and scrolls are, but you better move fast, lots of soldiers coming around this month...'

The converse between Alexi and the man faded into the clamour of the market, and the farther he got, the more Ty found himself considering why the two hadn't headed straight for the higher districts in the first place. Whatever they're in search for – if it was as important as they had emphasized it to be – it was probably going to be sold out soon.

Lately, more traders were coming into the city, more than the usual numbers; everyday soldiers and mages were seen rushing to the middle and higher districts to resupply themselves. Rumours had abounded that there were sightings of summoners resurfacing in one of the smaller towns near Ankorsham, something which seemed to be arousing unease and fear amongst all people. Summoners were the ones that had instituted the Regulus War about thirty years ago, named after the late king. The war had been fought over the summoner raiding parties that had slaughtered the townsfolks in the rural parts of the Gilleran empire. It had been known as the bloodiest twenty-two years of human history. Hundreds of families and villages had been wiped out before the summoners and their demons were defeated and stamped down, but the worst part of it all, was the eradication of a whole race: the reapers.

This had happened before Ty was born – within the first five years of the war – so he had only heard of the horrors that had been inflicted upon the race through stories over a fire: floggings, beheadings, burnings at the stake. Those were only the ones he and Tobias were allowed to know of.

Maybe the rumours were also part of the reason why city guards had been placed all around Havenridge. Increased security meant enemies were less inclined to enter the city. Except, instead of protection, these past few weeks the lower district had been subjected to more oppression and abuse.

It wasn't a secret that the guards hated the people here. City guards were generally recruited from the middle or higher districts, hence, the discrimination. To them, the lower district will always be the dirt beneath their boots, the leeches sucking their economy dry. But ever since more guards had been transferred under Captain Falk's authority, life within the lower district had turned almost unbearable. Every physical abuse was overlooked, and just recently Falk collected taxes from them – twice in the same month – seemingly as both a warning and punishment for the poor residents being complicit in selling wares that weren't properly licensed.

Alexi said it was bull, right after the guards left their home. The residents here sold goods that were a penny a pound, none of which should require licensing at all. They all knew it was another persecution by Falk. Except this time, many people had to go hungry because of it. It had in turn... led to the night before. Ty and Tobias had wanted to steal the tax records and take back the money for the less fortunate. They had heard of a large party being thrown in the higher district on that day, the Equinox Ball, and had assumed Falk's property would have lacked surveillance. It was unfortunate security came before they could snatch up what they were looking for, but at least the two of them made it out safely. Alexi had pounded into their heads last night that their lives were not worth a couple of coins.

There was a sudden high-pitched whistle and the sound of running feet. Two guards sprinted past Ty, truncheons drawn and pistols raised. He had just barely ducked behind the horses to hide, not that they would've cared anyway. The guards seemed preoccupied.

'You there! Drop your weapon! Now!'

There was a clang of metal as Ty looked over the horses, just in time to see one of the guards grabbing an old man by the throat, lifting him off his feet and shoving him up against a wall. He was a humongous brute of a man, even bulkier than Alexi, with a wild scraggly brown beard and a tattooed shaved head. It took another second for Ty to realise the old man they were threatening was one of the district's butchers, Hewie Rican, who was turning blue against the large fingers crushing his windpipe. The blade on the ground could hardly be called a weapon; a butcher's knife that Hewie had clearly been using, if the headless poultry on the ground was anything to go by.

'What have we told you lowlives about wielding weapons in public? You don't have that privilege. You. Need. A. License!' The second guard, tall and gangly with greased-up hair, said in a weedy voice, punctuating each word with a hard poke of his finger to Hewie's face. 'Why can't you get it through that skull of yours?'

Hewie whimpered, his hands held up in fear as if he was surrendering.

'Tsk, this will be another fine, Rican. That's the third one this week.' The first guard slammed him against the wall once more, and Hewie grabbed onto him with shaky arms to hold himself upright. He had lost weight, looking so thin the guard might just snap him in half.

Ty quickly looked around in search of help; there was no one around but the horses.

'You know what happens when you can't pay them all...' the second guard trailed off and pulled an ugly grin. He picked up the butcher's knife and gave it a good swing before wiping it down with the hem of Hewie's shirt. 'Maybe you need some initiative.' 

Then, he grabbed one of the old man's hands and pointed the end of the blade at the last finger. Hewie paled and trembled even more.

'Let him go!' Ty shouted, finding his voice. He slapped the horses on the rumps as hard as he could and watched dumbfounded when the beasts galloped and charged straight into the guards. Hewie was lucky to be spared, taped against the wall with a stupefied look on his face. Ty didn't wait around to see if the guards were alive or not.

As the horses neighed and stomped in displeasure, he made for Main Street, his heart fluttering beneath his ribs like a caged bird. All around, people went about their business, haggling and chattering, unaware of the sort of grave he had just dug for himself. Even with the shrill noises and the blood pounding in his ear, he heard distant shouts from the narrow passage he had just come out of.

He wanted to get back to Alexi. The man would know what to do. But as he turned in the direction of where the stall was, two more guards emerged from amongst the people, alert and surveying the area around. They had obviously heard the yells of their comrades.

That left only one direction for Ty to go. There was no time to waste; he had to keep moving. The thought of getting thrown in jail cut him to the core, his gut clenching with fear at the notion. For a moment Ty saw a life of chains and rodents and eating food scraps in the corner of a cell ahead of him, that was if Falk didn't decide to have him executed. There was still the issue of his breaking and entering into the captain's property. He shook the thoughts from his head. Focus, one thing at a time.

Ty joined the milling crowds, camouflaging to his best with his red and yellow garb as he moved from one group to another, spending every second searching for a safe passageway out of Main Street. But the guards followed close behind, quickly forcing him past a gate he had only gone through once in his life – when he was eleven with Alexi on a birthday trip. The surroundings changed sharply, and Ty gasped at the contrasting sight of deep-coloured concrete buildings. The middle district.

'That's the boy! Get him!'

At the sound of the command, people nearby looked around curiously, and several was pushed aside to reveal the skinny guard from before. Ty tried to rush forward, but his heart dropped at the sight of more guards from the middle district coming towards them.

It was the tell-tale click of a flintlock being pulled back that sounded behind him that had him stilling. Finally, his shoulders sagged and he slowly raised his hands in surrender.

'You are under arrest for the attempted murder of city patrollers and obstruction of justice.' Two manacles clapped around his wrists, and he was yanked to face the skinny guard with the greasy hair. 'You're going to jail.'

Well... Shit.