As the play continues, I look over to Penelope. “I’ll be right back. Need to hit the head,” I say as I start to leave.

  Penelope barely looks at me as she speaks, “Yeah, yeah. Hurry up, we're about to get to the good part.”

  With a nod, I brush through the crowd and begin my journey to the alleyway where I saw our mugger duck into. As I turn the corner, I get a bad feeling and duck immediately. The moment I do, a wooden board splinters against the wall where my head was. With an annoyed expression, I look up to see a kid. He has dark brown skin, black hair, dirty clothes, and, most importantly, red eyes.

  “Damned wood broke on me. This horned bastard is faster than he looks,” the kid says, using the language of the sands.

  With a sigh, I lean against the wall. “This ‘horned bastard’ is also stronger than he looks,” I say back in the language of the sands.

  The kid puts on a shocked expression. “You understand me?”

  “Course I do. We’re kin after all,” I say as I point at my red eyes.

  It’s odd to see someone from the sands. Hells, I haven’t seen one in ages, let alone spoken the tongue. It’s harder than I remember, but I think I’m getting used to it.

  “Thank the Spirits. I haven’t had a conversation with someone in months. Although it is odd to think of you as kin, considering the horns, but I’ll take what I can get,” he says, hiding the pouches of coin behind him.

  “Alright, kid. From kin to kin, give me the coin pouches and scram.”

  “My name's not kid, it’s Mateo, and these are my coin pouches. Kin or not,” Mateo says as he takes a step back.

  With a devilish smile, I stifle a laugh. “Ok, kid, but first rule of the streets. Always know who you’re stealing from and what you’re stealing.”

  With a confused look, he stops in his tracks. “What do you mean, horned one?”

  I shrug my shoulders as I nod at the coin pouches. “Why don’t you check what’s in them?”

  Carefully, he pulls the pouches out from behind his back and opens one of them. “It’s just filled with rocks?!” he exclaims.

  “I’m not stupid, kid. I don’t keep my money in a coin pouch. Check the other one,” I say, waiting for his reaction.

  The moment he opens the other pouch, he drops it and scurries back a good three steps. “What in the hells?! Who carries that much coin on them?” he asks, now utterly confused and a bit scared.

  Walking over, I pick up the pouch that seems to be filled with a couple of copper, gold, and… Platinum coins!! Why in the hells are you carrying around platinum, Penelope? What, are you planning to buy, a bakery? Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I wonder if I- Stop getting distracted!

  “Listen, kid, you're obviously new at the game, and you’re not built for it. It’s-”

  “Well, lookie here if it isn’t a Vashrin. How about you leave the boy alone and get out of here?” a gruff man interrupts.

  The gruff man appears from the darkness further in the alley. He’s human and rough around the edges. Looking down at Mateo, I see him flinch at the sight of the gruff man. Lovely. Now I have a different problem.

  “Get out of here? I didn’t realize you owned this alley. I’m sorry, your lordship,” I say sarcastically as I step in front of Mateo.

  “You think you're funny, Vashrin?” he says, stepping closer.

  “I think I’m hilarious.”

  The gruff man scoffs and looks over at Mateo. “Come on, kid. Let's get moving,” he commands Mateo.

  Mateo starts to walk towards him with a hung head, but before he can get past me, I put my hand out. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”

  “You don’t know who you’re messing with. The kid’s mine. So, how about you scram before I beat you more purple than you already are,” he spits out.

  Wiping the spit off my face, I let out a sigh. Mateo looks between us, not understanding the conversation. Fear dancing in his red eyes. On the other hand, the gruff man has started to turn red from anger, and I’m wondering what I did to get into this mess.

  “Alright, kid. Second rule of the streets. You fight dirty or you lose,” I say to Mateo.

  The man looks confused. “Wait, you speak the same thing-”

  Using his surprise, I find a gap in his attention and kick him straight in the nuts. His face goes blue as he keels over into the snow-covered floor. Before he can recover, I take one of the pebbles in my pouch and [Throw] it. The pebble bounces hard against his head. With a groan, the man stumbles trying to get up.

  With the swipe of my foot, he falls right back to the ground. “Sorry, my foot slipped,” I [Lie] as I sit on his back pinning him to the ground.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Mateo looks at me with a dumbfounded expression.

  “Well, kid. Don’t just stand there. Take his stuff,” I say the obvious.

  As if now realizing what’s happening, Mateo rifles through the man's pockets. After a second, he pulls out a small pouch of coins.

  “Alright, bud,” I say, as I pat the gruff man's head. “I don’t want to see ya bothering my friend here, and if I found out ya did. I’ll make sure you can’t have kids anymore.”

  As I speak, I stand back up and give his nuts another kick.

  “I understand,” the gruff man says between pained breaths.

  Looking back at Mateo, I see him counting the coins he just got. What am I gonna do with this kid? Can’t exactly take him back with me. Wait, I have an idea.

  “Hey, kid. You can’t speak a lick of the imperial tongue, can you?” I ask the obvious.

  “Not even a speck. Makes it difficult to talk to anybody. Let alone get a job,” he says.

  “Perfect. You see that big blue building in the distance?” I ask as I point to the cathedral.

  “Yeah. They give out food sometimes. Why?” he asks with a tinge of suspicion and curiosity.

  “If you want to get off the streets, go to that building. Find the most pretentious-looking person in robes and repeat after me, ‘The Chosen One has sent me.’ Can you do that?” I ask, trying to hold back a devilish smile.

  Mateo whispers the words to himself and then says in the imperial tongue, “The Chosen One hasent me.”

  That’s good enough. The Pope did say that if I needed anything, I could send a message to the cathedral. Well, I’m cashing in that favor.

  “Great, now get,” I say, waving him off.

  As Mateo leaves, I look down at the gruff man. He’s lucky that I have a play to finish watching. As I turn the corner, I quickly jump back and send one last pebble at his head. A groan of pain escapes his lips. Always fun.

  Pushing through the crowd, I find Penelope. She seems to be engrossed in the play and barely acknowledges me. Looking at the stage, I watch as the actress playing Amara, The First Chosen One, is wielding a sword of light as she cuts through a demon. Huffing and puffing, she slams the sword into the ground. Obviously exhausted. As she falters, a man in similar armor walks in from stage right.

  “Barinog, we’ve routed the forces of evil, and the defenses have been destroyed. The Great Evil is within reach. We need only strike it down. Our people will know peace again,” she says as Barinog holds her hand.

  “I’m sorry, Amara. I can’t let you do that,” he says as the knife in his hand slips into her back.

  “Why?” she asks as life leaves her eyes.

  Barinog holds the body of Amara and begins to walk away. As he does, his skin turns purple, he begins to grow sheep horns, his ears elongate to a point, and his eyes shimmer a deep purple.

  “As punishment for his betrayal, the Gods marked him and his kin. A permanent reminder of his betrayal. The body of The First Chosen One was found in her estate, leaning against an oak tree. She was buried under that same tree. The forces of evil, greatly weakened, retreated from this continent, threatening to return another day. For a brief respite, the world knew peace, but it didn’t last long,” the narrator says, closing out the short play.

  I get the feeling I missed a good chunk of the story. How did we get here? How fast was this storytelling for the love of the Gods? As the crowd begins to clap, I sense the stares around me intensify. Probably time to go.

  Penelope, who’s wiping away a hint of a tear, gets up. “Ok, let's get going. We got plenty more stuff to get to and not enough daylight,” she says, leading the way.

  “And what are you going to show me this time, Penelope?” I ask as I hand her the coin pouch in my hand.

  “I was thinking we could try some hot chol- Why did you just hand me my coin pouch?” she asks.

  “You lost it earlier, and I went to find it. You’re welcome,” I say, dancing around the truth.

  “Is that why you left the play?”

  “Yes. Again, you’re welcome.”

  Penelope hesitates as she puts the coin pouch back on her belt. “Thank you. You missed a good chunk of the play.”

  “I think I got the gist. Amara’s lover Barinog betrayed her, and he became the first Vashrin. Did I miss anything?” I say, plainly.

  “No, but when you say it sounds silly. It’s a story about love, family, and tragedy. How you can never really know someone…” she says, trailing off.

  “Now that I think about it. Does that mean we’re related?” I ask, confused about ancient history.

  “No. Amara never had children. Technically, it’s her brother that’s my direct ancestor, and as far as I know, Barinog didn’t have children either,” she explains.

  “I’m confused. If he didn’t have children, how are there other Vashrin?” I ask as a hint of curiosity takes over.

  “Well, history states that Barinog didn’t act alone in his betrayal. There were other coconspirators who also shared the same fate. Not to mention his whole bloodline, which included his siblings, cousins, parents, and so on,” she continues.

  “Interesting. When did this become a history lesson?” I realize.

  “History is fun,” she says, genuinely.

  “Let’s just get the hot chocolate,” I say, not wanting to retort.

  Tired, stuffed, and sore. That’s how I feel right now. There’s so much food at festivals and tripping hazards. This has to be the most injuries I’ve gotten from living, just living. I slipped on a patch of ice, hit my head on a door frame, and stubbed my toe on a stall. That’s only the small stuff.

  As I hobble, Penelope walks gracefully next to me. “Thanks for inviting me to the festival,” I say as the dorms come into view.

  “Yeah, no problem. I was going to go anyway,” she says as we enter the dorm common room.

  “Well, uh, I’m going this way,” I say as we walk our separate ways.

  “CJ, uh, see you in class,” she suddenly says.

  Walking up the stairs, I think back on the day. It was fun. I didn’t do much, but it was fun. Maybe I should ask Hopper if he wants to go tomorrow. He did say it was his first time in the capital.

  Thinking that I open the door to my room to find it covered in a thin layer of ice. Hopper sits perfectly still in the center of the room and slowly opens his eyes when I enter.

  “I understand now,” he says.

  “I hope that comes with the understanding of how to unfreeze our room.”

  “Uh…”

  “Fuck!”