Young Fool [Open]

[Ispsyavinsens]

Summer 2, 512

It was high noon on a cloudless day. From a high enough perch one could see for miles across the desert, to where the horizon blurred into the sky. It was a good time to be out in the light breeze instead of inside an airless apartment.

Vins was counting on that. Not a single eye had glanced up to the rooftops as Vins walked across them. He crouched at the edge of the roof; directly below him fluttered the grey curtains of his target. Further below in the street a woman in a long beige dress left the building, empty basket in arm. He sucked in a breath through his teeth and swung off the ledge of the roof, through the open window, and crashed into the ground.

For a moment Vins was paralyzed, unwilling to move or breathe until he was sure that no one was running to see what that noise was. He pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he put weight on the left one.

‘I taught you better,’ he could hear his mother chide as he took a look around the room. It was sparse, but there were a few obvious places to start: the cot, the small dresser, the chest. But it was the hearth that he began with. Several links of sausage were strung up above the ashes and Vins liberated them to wrap around his neck.

A few copper rings on the dresser glinted in the sunbeam from the window; he pocketed them and the sewing kit sitting there as well. He pulled out the drawers to see what else there was. Spare nails and clasps and scraps of paper, it turned out, but also a small pile of copper mizas as further reward for thievery.

Vins’ fingers twitched as he looked at the cot, but his heart was starting to race and he turned to the door instead. The open window was temping, but with his foot still aching from his landing he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk the three story fall to the ground. He pressed an ear to the door, but didn’t hear anything in the hall.

With a deep breath to try and relax he stepped out into the hall of the apartment building.

[Sahreni]

Pushing aside a brightly colored curtain, Sahreni disembarked the litters and stepped into the dusty streets, here in the poorer district of Ahnatep. Nearby, the human servants made to carry the vehicle were attempting to hide their relief and fatigue, fighting to keep their postures straight and their breathing level. They would continue to do so until Sahreni was out of sight, and then exchange muttered complaints and jokes. The lone Eypharian halberdier, appointed to protect the litters and its passenger, gave Sahreni a respectful nod as the noble passed him. The gesture was stiffly, quietly returned, but more as an indication of approval rather than respect. The four-armed guard knew the routine, rare as it was. This would probably take a few hours. Usually, during these infrequent trips outside the Villa of the West Winds, Sahreni had no need to dress down. Luxurious silks, a jeweled bandolier, and perhaps wolfskin shoulder cape would celebrate the tall halfblood as the noble he was. Thieves and vultures could smell his riches from the farthest, ruined corners of Ahnatep, but being flanked by servants and armed guards, there was little reason for Sahreni to worry. Visiting his mother, on the other hand, was an occasion that called for more subtlety. Although the noble cherished the security of guards, he had no appetite for the sly, disdainful looks given to the aging Inarta woman. Personal conversations couldn't be truly enjoyed without a measure of privacy, so Sahreni's company of escorts would have to wait outside. Away from his protection, the only security Sahreni had was the long, sheathed scimitar hanging openly from his belt—his skill with a blade was dodgy at best. The noble was proud and wore no disguises; he was still happily clad in fine silks and gilded leather sandals, but he forewent extraneous semi-precious stones and even left behind his ruby studded ring. It would be more likely, then, that Sahreni would be mistaken for a very wealthy human in eye paints, rather than an Eypharian noble. This sort of modesty was Iseret's idea—Sahreni's Eypharian step-mother. These measures were not meant to prevent him from being robbed so much, but rather if he was, then nothing of great import would be stolen from him. The monetary loss to the House of the West Winds would be negligible. Sahreni's mother lived on the second floor of the apartment building, cooped up in a small, overheated capsule that usually smelled of incense and perfumes. Though she was a pauper, she had once been a concubine in the lap of luxury, and knew best how to make any space more inviting with limited resources. Arriving in the corridor of the second story, the halfblood was startled when the ceiling above him thumped loudly. For a moment he'd thought the structure was simply caving in, given its miserable state, but Sahreni quickly realized that assumption was foolish. Placing a hand to his chest to calm his racing heart, he looked upward as his curiosity ensnared him within the moment. It had sounded like something or someone had fallen. There were no voices afterward, or laughing. He could have simply ignored the noise and moved on to his mother's apartment, but something drew him back into the stairwell. It might have been boyish notions of chivalry, wanting to help the less fortunate if someone was hurt. It was ridiculous, really. These people meant nothing, whether or not they were his mother's neighbors. Unlike his Villa, these clustered apartments were inhabited by strangers, not esteemed members of her family. Still… A young boy emerged into the hall just as Sahreni reached the third floor. The look upon his face was one the noble could not identify, but it reminded him of his younger half-sister, whenever her mother called her over for something more important than chatting with her father's bastard. Perhaps something between guilt and defiance. Sahreni was unsure how to react at first. "Are you lost?" he asked politely in colorful Arumenic, beginning to calmly approach. The adolescent was much shorter than Sahreni, and much younger by the look of him. He could have been a thief or a mugger, but he didn't look armed. The halfblood's scimitar, hanging beside his left leg, gave him confidence that there was no risk here. "You look lost. I heard someone fall. Was it you?"

[Ispsyavinsens]

Vins had barely taken a step into the hall when he was caught. The man before him was clearly not a resident of these apartments. It took a moment for Vins to collect himself and try to shrug off that guilty look and the worry tat surely crossed his face as he saw the scimitar at the side of Sahreni.

'Naturally,' he thought to himself, 'I am caught today. Caught the first time I try anything shady in weeks.'

As his eyes trailed from the scimitar to the rest of the man, Vins' could barely believe the situation he'd walked into. The human before him was dressed in silks and what looked like especially fine sandals. He was the exact type of person Vins had been hoping to avoid by burgling in the low parts of the city - the kind of person who could do something about it. If it had just been another tenant Vins could have just bolted, but before someone of potential power he wasn't sure what to do.

It didn't help that the man was talking in Arumenic - Vins couldn't be entirely sure of what was being said, but the scimitar that the other man had remained sheathed and he didn't seem angry so far. Vins wet his lips and stared into the stranger's eyes as he tried to interpret what he was being asked.

"Euh... Everything good is," he responded at last. Hopefully his accent wasn't so thick as to be unintelligible, but thick enough to make it not worth the stranger's effort to continue bothering with the young thief. He wiped his greasy hands off on his robe and bowed quickly.

At that particular moment Vins wished he could read the nobleman's mind, but he didn't even know himself what he'd have made of this scenario were their positions reversed. He looked to the stairs.

"I is for surprise thank you. Good day?" He took a hesitant step towards the way down. "Hurry is," he added as an apology.

[Sahreni]

Wait. "Hold on.*" Sahreni stepped to the side, placing himself squarely between the stairwell and the boy. Something was off here, and it wasn't this foysha's humiliating attempt at Arumenic. The halfblood's voice became an octave deeper. "We will speak Common. Is that easier?" Now that the noble was getting a better look at the boy, he wasn't just dressed in lopsided rags and a lumpy, lopsided scarf. They were sausage links, strung around his neck as if hanging from a spit in a smokehouse. On their own, they could almost look innocent—perhaps he was transporting them to his starving mother waiting down the hall—but there was more. In his pocket was something suspiciously rigid and rectangular. Gods help him if that was part of his anatomy. "Where did you get that?" A gentle flick of Sahreni's fingers indicated the sausage rope. His tall, silken form drew one step closer, tightening the space between the boy and the far end of the hall. There might have been room to dodge around the noble on one side or the other, if he was quick enough. On the other hand, what if he was quicker with the scimitar? "And what is in your pockets?" He took another step. Routing thieves was not in Sahreni's usual daily routine. Occasionally, a very clever (or very stupid) little miscreant was caught skulking around the villa. Various consequences were doled out based on the offense, and never happy ones. But that was the guards' job. Sahreni knew a little about swordplay, but not for this purpose. Even if the thief made a run for it, Sahreni probably wouldn't stop him. Mostly, he was just hoping to scare the young criminal a little, perhaps make him think twice about the consequences of larceny. And… it was a little fun, seeing that look on his face. This could make a great story for Hasina. "What was that sound, truly? Hm?" Sahreni laid a hand on the hilt of his scimitar, but did not draw it. "Don't play games with me, boy. Tell me what you're really doing here." *Still in Arumenic.

[Ispsyavinsens]

The closer the noble stepped towards the thief, the larger he seemed and the smaller the thief tried to become. The way Sahreni towered over Vins did not help the latter's confidence and he was nearly rearing in defense. Vins forced himself to meet the nobleman's eyes instead of staring at that scimitar.

"I got it from the market," he answered, Common coming much more easily to him than Arumenic, even though Vins was swearing inwardly about how quickly his speech left him the moment things went south. There was a perfectly plausible explanation for everything, he just had to make it up and stick to it. He yanked the sewing kit from his pocket and almost dropped it as he held it up for Sahreni to see.

"This is only a sewing kit." That was a perfectly normal thing to have on his person, Vins reassured himself, or at least he prayed so.

"And I fell. Just tripped." He took a step not to the stairs, but back towards the apartment. He could survive a fall from this height. He would not enjoy it, but he could survive.

[Sahreni]

A sewing kit. The corners of Sahreni's mouth twitched, signaling his triumph in stifling a sudden laugh. Instead, he lifted an eyebrow and glanced away in candid disbelief. Maintaining his grip on the hilt of his sheathed weapon, Sahreni slipped the other hand into a pocket as he slackened the stiffness of his posture. No need to compose himself so neatly in the company of some foysha. Really, what kind of thief makes off with a sewing kit? There must have been a serious crime ring of knitters in these parts. Heinous. "Thank the gods you weren't hurt. What is the sewing kit for?" As the thief fell a step backward, Sahreni began casually sauntering toward him. His brown eyes passed lazily between the boy and the open door the apartment. A floor below, Sahreni's mother was waiting for her son to visit. It would be better if this bit of whimsy ended quickly. "I wouldn't take you for a seamstress. You look more like a thief." Approaching within arm's length of the boy, Sahreni sighed and dropped the façade. His kohl lined eyes aimed themselves at the uneven floorboards, lips pressing into a thin line. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but tighter. "What makes you deserve those things more than the one who bought them, hm? Is this the way you choose to live?"

[Ispsyavinsens]

The knots in Vins' stomach churned and he could have sworn he was breaking out into a cold sweat, but with it came a strange, calm confidence. Sahreni's deduction meant that Vins didn't have to keep feigning innocent and trying to weasel his way out with words, and at least this time he was only caught stealing. He shoved the sewing kit back into a pocket and threw up his hands.

"Was in a hurry. Dangerous to look very long; risk capture. Wasn't fast enough this time," he responded flatly. As Sahreni looked down, Vins continued to back up.

"But what makes I? Get hungry, clothes need fixing, it is a living. What is your plan?"

He was at the door to the apartment and, he figured, nearly home free, but he would not take his eyes off the nobleman until the last moment.

[Sahreni]

Obviously Common wasn't the boy's first language, either. Curious. "My plan?" Sahreni was uncertain what he meant. Was it an abstract question, or was he asking the noble's intentions? Only that latter was relevant. "If you leave those items where you found them and exit quickly, I don't plan on doing anything." It was possible he was only reciprocating Sahreni's doubts about the thief's personal philosophy. If so, it could only be a charmingly crafted ruse to act as a distraction as he made a dash for his escape. The boy would get away, loot or no loot. Sahreni wasn't about to raise his sword against a child. The only part of this that truly bothered him was the travesty of knowing his mother lived in a place as wretched as this. "This does not have to end badly for you."

[Ispsyavinsens]

Silently Vins agrees with the nobleman. It didn't have to end badly. He was going to get out of this, somehow. He dug his heels in and whirled around to dash for the open window. Adrenaline and fear kept him from faltering as he gripped the window frame and hoisted himself up and out into the open air.

The breeze had gotten stronger, and Vins was briefly relieved to be out of the stale apartment. The crowds below were thin and thankfully no one was in his landing path. After all, a three story fall never lasted as long as he thought it was going to.

Keep your feet down, knees bent, and be ready to roll; those were the key instructions he’d been given when learning to fall. He hit the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust as he rolled over his shoulder and to his feet. Some passersby turned to look, some trying to piece together what was happening and others simply gawking. Vins was coughing, but he was already setting off in a run. Someone started shouting, and the thief prayed it wasn’t a guard.