Arden Vera leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes rapidly. Despite the tears streaming down his face, he smiled faintly. Canbar had tricked him; he was not expecting there to be more gas in that container. But the boy had left so hurriedly he didn't even bother to check the contents of the brown bag. Even though Arden would never know the ingredients of those drugs, or what plant they were based on, at least the Vices would go down. They weren't dangerous, just a nuisance.

Once his vision cleared, Arden went down the alley and took a left turn, walking against the current. He got some weird looks, but most of the people that spotted him turned around and sped up the other way. He didn't know how to feel about people avoiding him; proud or ashamed? He decided to feel nothing, say nothing, like he always did. He found apathy to be quite convenient in most situations.

A faded sign came into view. The Three Cups. Bad food, loud music, weird looking drunken travelers on a pit stop; everything locals could ever dream of. In Sevin, it felt as if nobody cared or even knew a war was happening beyond the borders. Even worse, they didn't seem to be aware of the fact that Frya was one of Seyal's allies, also known as the losing side. Those people were paying taxes and every day Sevin became a little bit poorer. The Three Cup's patrons didn't give a care in the world, and he was usually reluctant to admit that the real leader of the Black Spades was one of them.

Arden pushed open the front door, instantly being attacked by the heavy smell of booze and venison. He placed a sleeve over his nose and carefully advanced inside. Men and women surrounded tables full of plates and cups, eating hurriedly as if food would go extinct the following day. Not much conversation happened near the door, where foreigners would usually sit. The back, however, reserved for the locals, made Arden want to pierce his eardrums. People were screaming at each other, roaring with laughter, slapping the tables with their cups. And the loudest of them all; Bryn Vera.

"Arden, my dear nephew. Come sit with us!"

Arden sighed and wondered how a drunkard could be so alert. "I don't have time for this. I need to talk to you." He glanced at the multiple other people sitting with Bryn. "Alone."

"You spoil all the fun!" Bryn pushed herself up, stumbling towards Arden. He grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the entrance. "What? We're leaving already?" Despite her complaints, they were soon out of the tavern.

"I wanted to get information out of that fool, Canbar. Well, I failed. But I used your device." A slow-burning fuse surrounded by a metal shell to prevent the quenching of the flame, specifically made for the Vices. What a nice gift.

Bryn brought a finger to her chin, tapping it lightly. After a minute or two, her face lit up. "The bomb! Did it work?"

"I don't know." He said, looking at the clocktower towering over the town. "You said it would explode around ten minutes after. It's been about five."

"Great! Should we go watch the show?"

"No." Despite his actions, Arden was in no mood to see people get injured, possibly even die. If the drug was indeed flammable, the Vices would have a hard time surviving that one. "Let's go back home." He reconsidered. "I mean back to the headquarters."

In spite of his attempts, Bryn was already grinning like an idiot. "Let's go home," she said happily.

When his parents got tired of him, Arden was sent to his aunt. He doubted they knew she was part of a gang, but then again, they wouldn't care. Bryn taught him to be a proper thief, shoot a gun, wield a knife, steal from people; basic survival skills. That was the life she had planned for him; the only life he had ever known.

A sudden bang brought him back to reality. He looked up from the ground. The night sky had lit up, painted in red and black. The breeze brought an unpleasant smell to his nose. People around him started laughing, thinking it was some kind of failed attempt at carnival fireworks. He knew better. But even so, a small bomb couldn't cause that big of an explosion. He managed to answer his own question in a few seconds, his eyes wide in realization.

The basement.

The Vices produced their drugs in their own basement. Arden would have laughed at their stupidity, and he knew he shouldn't have felt any pity. But he also knew about Canbar's situation. During research, he had found out that that fool had been caught in a debt trap along with his withering mother. The Vices had been his family and Blom some kind of twisted father figure. And it was all gone, all because of Arden.

"Wow! That is magnificent. I am magnificent," Bryn boasted, a victorious smile on her face. When she noticed Arden's expression she pouted. "What is it? Don't tell me you feel bad now!"

"No. It's not my fault Blom's stooges can't watch their own backs." He wanted to believe his words, but instead of convincing him they were true, their repetition only made his head hurt.

He pushed those thoughts away. It was much easier to keep his feelings locked, especially when they got in the way of his work. He made a mental note to make it up to Canbar someday, just so his moral compass could stay functional; maybe throw a coin in his mug.

"Right." Bryn pouted and jabbed the boy's elbow. "I know what will cheer you up."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

"A piece of paper? How uplifting." A crumpled scrap of paper was clutched in Arden's hands as he examined the words written on it. Ink was hastily thrown on the letter, forming nearly illegible words. With some effort, Arden read through some of the lines. A list of names, he realized. "A casualty list?"

"Not yet." Bryn's evil grin was enhanced by the dim lamplight in her warm office. "But it can become one. Depends on you."

Another burden. Thanks, aunty.

"Our spies have confirmed it," she beamed. "A royal artifact --the kingfisher-- was stolen from the Seyali Ascended Council. Rumor has it it's been transferred to Musha, and that the one who stole it is looking for the highest bidder."

Arden's eyebrows rose. A stolen royal artifact? If they managed to fence it, they would become billionaires --or more. With an heirloom in their possession, they would have the Ascended Council in their mercy, just for a while.

"If we get this, we will be rich," Bryn echoed his thoughts. "No more drug dealings, and no more dirt! Man, we'll live in this villa in the desert--"

"What is this list for?" Arden wasn't really keen on Bryn's constant rambling. He simply wanted her to get to the point. Her proposal already sounded demented, and he feared what the people's names would have to do with it.

"These are soldiers and spies commissioned by their bases to travel to or through Daesan the past week. The search party was sent earlier today, so they might have some information."

The fact that a whole search party had been sent out only rose more questions in Arden's mind; what is so important about that thing? What more does it possess apart from sentimental value?

Arden wondered whether Bryn was right in the head or not. "There are dozens of names in this list. And what makes you think Flournans and Gweini will want to help a Fryan gang steal a vase? What will they earn?"

"Fame. A better position. A share of the cash you'll get," she beamed as if her mission was entirely safe and logical. Arden had to stare at her for a moment to make sure she wasn't being ironic.

"Look. This is the best chance we can get to get the hell out of this place. I've already prepared you a crew--"

"No!" he barked, his teeth grinding against each other. He cleared his throat. "I'll find a crew. You have to give me time."

Bryn shook her head, her triumph transforming into caution. Her ashen eyes relaxed and her pink lips formed into a straight line. "We're out of time. If the artifact is truly in Musha, you'll waste more than a week on foot. You must leave tonight or tomorrow."

Arden looked at the carpeted floor, examining the small hairs one by one. She was right; they would never reach Musha on time if he waited any longer. Suddenly, a crazy idea flashed in his head, and once it was there he could not shake it away. He jumped up from his seat, straightening his spine. "This is a pointless suicide mission. We'll either starve to death or be killed by the Seyali search party. I don't need your best men, Bryn. I need someone who has lost it all, someone who nobody will mourn. But that someone must also be quick and strong, or at least appears that way."

Bryn's devilish smirk returned, but this time it was mocking him. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Arden nodded. He felt his lips curve up, a plan already forming in his head. "I'll either rid our world of this stupidity or make that boy the second richest man in the planet."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Sevin became filthier and certainly more chaotic the further south Arden advanced. The pretty lights decorating most of the taverns near the Black Spades' HQ were few in southern Sevin. It was no coincidence it was called the Gutter; every building was plain and poor. There should have been at least one man against every wall, vomiting the insides of his stomach. Most women were scarcely dressed, standing outside the only brightly illuminated buildings, looking for a way to make ends meet. Even the greenery there was depressed; dark trees littered the areas that hadn't been paved, with ebony trunks and wine-colored leaves.

Arden had no idea where the Vices stayed. Still, he was able to find their headquarters. The thick smoke hovering above the now almost dilapidated building was less than discreet and easily gave away Canbar's former location. Arden took a few steps forward, towards the debris that lay before him. Black bricks covered the ground and burning floorboards only fueled the fire that had started to grow where the Vices' HQ had been a few moments before. There was nobody around, not even a single firefighter to quench the flames. Thin specks of dark ash filled Arden's lungs as he breathed through covered nostrils.

"Pretty, ain't it?"

Arden turned his head to the side, facing an old man marveling at the sight of the burning building. He hadn't been there before, or maybe Arden simply hadn't noticed him lurking in the shadows. His eyes shone, and that wasn't only due to the intense heat emitting from the fire. Insanity, probably.

"The people that stayed here. Where are they?"

The old man appeared to think for a moment as his hand caressed his chin. "I saw them heading to the Tents." A laugh escaped his chapped lips. "Not that they'll get any help there. The place is already full of desperate homeless people."

Arden nodded and, without another word, rushed towards where he assumed the Tents were. He hadn't been to the Gutter many times, only for nasty jobs and nasty people. The Tents, though, were a famous hotspot for weapon dealings, always behind the volunteers' backs. Most of the people that resided there had either lost their homes, their money or their dignity. Thus, they were all eligible costumers. Or targets.

A herd of pale green pavilions came into sight. The old man was right; dozens upon dozens of raggedy people crowded the nearly torn tents, pushing any casualties towards the only white dome. The infirmary, Arden realized.

The boy wasted no time. If he wanted to get his money, he had to depart as soon as possible. He pushed through the horde of distressed people, earning yells and curses. Canbar had to be in the infirmary; his mother was already in bad shape before the explosion. Now, she could have died. Arden shook the thought out of his head. He had no idea why he wanted to get Salo in his crew, but whatever had come over him was too persistent to let him ponder any longer.

He soon spotted a woman dressed in white. She was surrounded by furious citizens begging for a bed to sleep in for the night. He shoved the countless people crowding her, grabbing her shoulder and shaking it violently. "Salo Canbar. Where is he?"

The woman's dark brown eyes widened as they moved rapidly. Her lips parted, yet no words came out. At last, she shook her head. She had no idea.

"Come on! He has dark skin and light eyes, and he's with an old woman. You cannot have missed him." And he was right. Fryans could only get slightly tan in the summer, but their skin remained white as milk. Canbar's golden hue could never be mistaken as Fryan, no matter how brightly the sun shone.

Arden let go of the girl's shoulder, and he looked around for another volunteer. However, the conspicuous white uniforms were nowhere to be found in the packed tent. He turned to the startled woman once more. "Please, you have to--"

"I'm right here."

Arden thought he was hearing things at first. But when he slowly turned his head to meet the pale eyes he was referring to seconds before, all doubt was drowned in weird relief. Canbar's features were twisted into a frown, his eyebrows furrowed. Several scratches and pink burn marks littered his face and his tawny hair was ruffled into a mess. His olive eyes were squinted with hatred as they examined Arden from head to toe. He didn't know how he was supposed to ask him to follow him, to trust him.

"You're currently in terrible debt, homeless and almost an orphan, correct?"

Canbar's fingers tightened into fists and he took a threatening step towards Arden. The latter wasn't impressed.

"I've got a deal for you," he continued. "If you'll just hear me out--"

"No," hissed Salo. "No more deals."

"It will get you out of poverty."

Canbar shrugged, glaring at Arden intensely. "I don't want your money." Arden knew that was a lie, but Salo had to keep his dignity.

"Fine, then. It will get your mother out of poverty."

Salo's eyes widened, but he didn't let his surprise be noticed. He turned his head to the side, his voice only a raspy whisper. "She's not long for this world."

Arden felt a spark of hope inside him. Canbar was a sensitive boy, fresh out of puberty. It wouldn't be hard to convince him if he let his guard down again. "Bring her outside. She'll get the medical attention she needs back in our headquarters."

Canbar stared at Arden, tears threatening to spill out his eyes. After what seemed to be a fight with his own self, he shook his head. "I cannot trust you."

"Then you can leave her here to rot. They'll never get to her in time."

The way back consisted mainly of muffled pants and silent groans from the old woman between Arden and Salo. She truly looked as if she was at death's door, and Arden was aware there wasn't much Bryn could do for her. Yet they kept dragging her across the Gutter, trying to keep her breathing and bring her to Bryn's place as quickly as possible at the same time. She barely ever opened her eyes, but when she did, she eyed Arden's unfamiliar figure suspiciously.

Ten minutes later, they stood at the porch of the Spades' headquarters. Arden banged his fist on the wooden door, chilly air thrusting in his lungs in desperate gasps. It only took a few seconds for the door to swing open. Bryn's upbeat smile came into view, but it quickly disappeared once she caught sight of the two other short-winded figures beside Arden.

"Oh my! What happened to you?"

"Your friend blew us up," Salo spat.

"My friend? Arden's my nephew."

"She's your aunt?" He turned to look at Arden, an amused expression replacing his previously bitter features.

"Out of the way, Bryn." Arden pushed the woman to the side, hauling Salo's moribund mother inside the dimly lit room.

"How could you talk to your aunty like that?" Now that they had reached safety, Salo's mood seemed to heighten dangerously. Arden feared he would be a more obnoxious version of Bryn and immediately reconsidered his course of action. He was a huge nuisance. A needed pest, but a pest still.

He's here now, Arden reminded himself. There's no going back.

After the three of them had laid Canbar's mother on the cleanest couch they could find, Bryn burst out of the door in search of a medic. Arden folded his hands on his chest as he watched Salo sit on the sofa next to his parent. He clutched her hand in his, brushing over her knuckles with his thumb.

They sat in silence for a while. Then, Salo found the courage to speak. "I guess now we're even." A sad smile formed on his lips. Any sign of hatred and disgust had vanished from his visage, replaced by weird, unfamiliar bliss. He sighed. "I'll come with you."

Arden's head snapped to Canbar's eyes. They were wide, honest. They were the eyes of someone who was ready to die for a taste of freedom.

"You do realize we'll most likely be killed, right?" Arden didn't want the boy to back down from the offer, but he had to make sure he knew what he was getting himself into. He didn't want to have to deal with Salo's complaints in the afterlife.

"I'd rather die than stay here any longer." He bit his lip, looking at his feet. "I think I'll never be able to pay Lephar Blom back if I continue like this. I want to pay off my debt and leave Frya. I want to--"

"You want to buy a villa in the desert?"

Salo made a grimace, shaking his head. "I'd rather not go back to Fabal. But I'd like a mansion in Musha."

Arden had to contain his laughter. "I haven't even told you what the deal is yet."

"I don't care. I'll do anything."

A desperate moron eager to die? Perfect.

Only two minutes later, the front door was shoved open. Bryn rushed in with a short woman and another young girl striding next to her. "I found a doctor!"

Salo shot up from his seat. He stepped back as the medic knelt next to his mother's decaying figure. She leaned in to take a closer look at the woman's wounds, but eventually backed off and stood back up. "I cannot examine her here. We'll have to take her to the emergency department." She signaled to the maid that had come with her. They pulled the almost unconscious body from the couch and held it cautiously, as if it was going to evaporate.

Once the hospital staff reached the entrance, the doctor looked back at the boys watching her go. "What is her name?"

"Lilja," Salo exclaimed abruptly. "Lilja Nur."

With a synchronized nod of their heads, the medics disappeared. Salo stared at the faded yellow couch, where his mother had been a few moments before. He sighed and turned to Bryn. "Thank you."

She chuckled. Her grey eyes glinted in the golden lamplight. "It was the least I could do for sending you both to almost guaranteed death." She glanced at Arden. "I reckon you can defend yourselves."

Arden nodded. He didn't particularly like being Canbar's bodyguard, yet he had no choice but to abide by Bryn's rules. If you want to lead a team, you must also protect it.

"Great," Salo yawned, stretching his arms out. "I need a nap after all this. See you tomorrow." He took some relaxed steps towards the door, but his form evidently stiffened once the words were out of Arden's mouth.

"We're leaving tonight."

Canbar turned his head, looking at Arden like he had grown a second head. His jade eyes were wide in justified terror. "T-Tonight? Just the two of us?"

"I've got a list of names. Once we've found enough capable people willing to join us or offer us information, we'll head to Musha."

"This is madness!" the boy exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "I thought this would be a local job."

"I'll have plenty of time to explain on the way. You can sleep once we're there. Right now, we need to go." Arden was aware Salo wasn't really experienced in these kinds of missions, and that being away from his beloved mother would hurt. However, something made him think he was somewhat able. If all else failed, the Vice could at least work as a meatshield when things got nasty with the other searchers.

Canbar stared at Arden for a moment. His bright eyes searched the Spade's face rapidly, looking for a hint of hesitation. It was pointless; Arden had already made up his mind, and someone like Salo wasn't going to change it. "You don't understand. I'm heavily indebted. If I leave now, Lephar--"

"The Vices are no more, Salo." Arden felt a tinge of triumph as he spat out those words. "Blom has lost. His gang is destroyed, and you're not one of his thugs anymore."

"My debt hasn't been erased though," Salo muttered, looking at his chestnut shoes. It genuinely seemed as if he wanted everything to go wrong, that he couldn't accept the fact that Lephar Blom would be simply a nuisance once they had the artifact in their possession.

"Oh, trust me. When we steal that relic, Lephar Blom will be begging for your forgiveness."

The concept seemed to pique the boy's interest. "What relic?"

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The sun had begun to slowly but surely rise, shining through the thick buildings' windows. The air smelled of pollen, lingering in the heavy atmosphere. Any cheerful sounds and obnoxious music were only faint whispers there, a distant memory that begged to be erased. The boys' eyes burned relentlessly, each for their reasons.

They had to leave immediately. Arden had packed anything he had deemed necessary; a few sets of clothes, three pouches of gold pieces and, of course, his precious kit. Salo, on the other hand, had nothing in his hands. Whenever his companion mentioned it, he glared at him with a deadly look nobody thought he could muster. Arden promised the boy could borrow his own clothes and money if it was completely necessary, but he simply waved his hand dismissively and claimed he could steal anything he needed. That was the best joke Arden had heard all day.

"Where are we going now, exactly?" Salo whined, rushing after Arden's long strides. "And when will you finally explain to me what we're after?"

Arden halted, causing a heavy mass to slam on his back. He threw a gritty piece of paper behind his back, its edges eaten at by hungry moths. Salo grabbed it clumsily, observing the letters printed on it.

" 'Terko to permanently move to Messo Harbor'... Who is Terko?"

"Halim Terko, retired spy. This is from the Flournan Intelligence Paper two years ago. I found it while I packed my things."

Salo narrowed his eyes, examining him from head to toe. "Why do you own a copy of a government leaflet?"

"Rule number one," Arden declared, snatching the now wrinkled page back. "I talk, you listen. It only happens the other way around when your life is on the line."

"Shouldn't I always be in danger when I'm around you?"

A fist shot back, digging into Salo's ribs.

"Rule number two; no wisecracks."

Despite his harsh tone and remarks, Arden felt an invisible force tug the corners of his lips upwards, towards his eyes. He turned away from Salo. "Halim Terko went to Daesan some days ago. He must be back by now. Chances are, he knows something about the relic that we don't."

"And what do we know?"

"Nothing, really. So there is a lot to learn."

They continued walking in silence, eventually reaching the reeking harbor of Sevin. Tired gulls circled the wharf, screeching in starvation and agony. The dull black sea reflected the sky's dolor and the almost dilapidated boats rocked back and forth in the little waves that came their way. The majority of them bore female names, but none mattered to Arden except for one; Arija.

"So we're going to Messo by boat? I thought we wanted to go to Musha, and fast!"

"We don't have enough information to search for the kingfisher yet. We need to interrogate..." Arden noticed Salo's horrified expression and cleared his throat. "We need to kindly ask Terko what he knows about the artifact first. We'll get there faster on a boat than we would on a carriage."

"And if the guy knows nothing about that artifact?"

"Then we move on to the next one. I've got a whole list, my friend."

Salo's emerald eyes widened, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. He shook his head, probably trying to convince himself it would be worth it in the end.

A small shabby boat came into view. The blue paint on the lower half had started wearing off, now a pale beryl shade. Some rusty benches had been nailed to the wooden boards, serving as uncomfortable seats. On the side, the name 'Arija' had been carved by hand, contributing to the horrid look of the tiny schooner. Unsurprisingly, the only human being that dared stand within range of that monstrosity was a weirdly cheerful, wrinkly man holding a metal box.

Arden approached him, dragging Salo along. "Two."

The old man didn't need another cue. He held out his arm, a wide smile forming on his lips. "That will be two gold pieces!"

Arden sighed at the outrageous price they had to pay, along with the nausea that would torment them for three hours straight. He reluctantly opened one of the pouches in his pocket, grabbing two yellow coins and slowly leaving them on the man's extended hand. He examined them, savoring the feel of the rare metal against the sensitive skin of his palm. Finally, he let them fall in the metal box with a loud clink and stepped aside for the boys to enter his schooner.

As soon as they stepped foot inside, Salo collapsed on one of the benches. His face formed into a pained grimace, yet he didn't move an inch. He placed the back of his hand on his forehead, sweeping non-existent sweat. Despite how tired he was, he couldn't stand not complaining. "What a steal. Two gold pieces are double my salary in a good month."

Arden didn't touch the benches. He intertwined his fingers together, laying them on the brown railing. "If it helps you sleep at night, that guy just helped two criminals steal a clay bird. That sounds good for a resume."

Salo frowned, his large eyes narrowing. "It's not stealing if we steal something that has already been stolen. It's called a favor to the government."

"Yes, because the poor Ascended ruler can't live without his clay bird."

The boy didn't respond. His eyes had closed, and his head had laid on the beam next to him. The ease with which a thug could sleep like that terrified Arden. He stepped away from the sleeping figure, choosing the least rusty bench to sit on. He let his suitcase fall on the floor, but he kept the black leather case close to him. It was more important than a few hundred gold pieces.

Although he couldn't sleep, especially when the boat left the harbor and begun moving back and forth furiously, he let his mind drift away from the moment. A thousand questions attacked his head as soon as that happened; Will we find Terko, or will he have been killed? And even if we do, will he share information with us? What will he want in return, and if it's too much, how will we get to the rest of the spies in time? He didn't want to admit it to Salo, but there were no guarantees in life, especially in their situation.

No, he thought, swatting all those thoughts away. I'll comb the whole world if I need to; I will find the artifact, I will get rich, and I will finally escape the grave that has been dug for me in Sevin. Whatever it takes.

The soft snores coming from Salo's direction would be annoying in any other situation, but now they served as lullabies. Even when his eyelids were drawn towards each other, his fists remained tightly closed, as if his fate was slipping out of his grasp with every passing second.

***

Maaan, I forgot how long this chapter was. I promise there'll be much time for character development once the plot has picked up ;)

By the way, who are these 130 people and what have I ever done to deserve your kindness?

And because I know nobody cares but I still have to clarify it, one golden piece is about equal to 200 US dollars. Yes, 400 dollars is much for two tickets, that's why it's called o u t r a g e o u s lmao

PUBLISH DATE — 19/05/19

EDIT DATES — 19/07/15