“Welcome to the city of Desa,” Gabe said as he stretched out his arms, gesturing at the city around them.

  Marcus looked back from where they had come, and for all intents and purposes, the two cities were connected by a drawbridge. It was a good system that guarded every city if an attack was to come from the base of the mountain. But more to it, the bridge acted as a boundary between the cities.

  He supposed that if the two lords were unhappy with each other, all one of them needed to do was pull in their side of the bridge to cut off access to their city. Or if one city fell to monsters, then the action would protect the citizens of the other city. For a civilization trying to keep its people alive, this seemed a unique way to handle their geopolitics.

  And looking at it now, unlike the first time he had looked at the rising cities built into the mountain from the Ashfeilds, he saw the pattern upon which each city was built. Desa was built like a fortress city, and much like Srok, where Clara and her band lived, the lower parts of this city were filled with houses made of stone and timber and closely packed to fit as many as possible. The only difference was that these buildings were well-maintained and somewhat cared for. Where previously wooden debris cut off the narrow streets in the other poorer city here, the tightly packed streets were kept unclogged, opening up the narrow alleys that led to a large marketplace.

  Desa was one of the five cities protected by the fourth wall in the mountain, and although not as large as some of the others, it had many homes and artisan workshops that filled the city, and tens of thousands of people from this city came to buy and sell their wares, if it had to be compared to the rest of the cities it would be called a trading city.

  “Desa, is that what this place is called.”

  “Yes, they say the count of Desa is a very rich man, coin is easier to find here.”

  “So Srok is ruled by a Baron, And Desa is ruled by a count. Does that mean that someone even higher up rules the cities high up on the mountain.”

  “Yes, see you know more than you think. the cities in the third wall are ruled by the marques and the ones beyond that by the Arch dukes.”

  ‘Of course every society needed structure of rule and what other way was there for cities that were built on a mountain to do that.’

  As one went further into the city, the wards converged on the market. The buildings surrounding it were three to two stories high.

  “What do we do now,” Marcus asked, looking around at the city and trying to take in as much as possible.

  “Just do as I do,” Gabe said and walked over to an isolated spot next to a corner street from the market; he placed down the rag he covered himself with during the cold nights and sat on it, he placed his hand palm up.

  Marcus looked with unease at the sight and looked around before hesitantly taking a seat. He had never been a beggar. The entire act made him uncomfortable, the groveling and act of putting his life in someone else’s hands. the feeling disgusted him. The only thing that helped calm his nerves was the fact that he had foregone eating the rat meat the other two boys had caught in the sewer, and his stomach was growling and yawning for something to fill it. So he hesitantly sat.

  At first, he was just not willing to let his pride be dragged down.

  And as he sat, he thought. One day, he was living a reasonably comfortable life, and the next, he was a beggar. it was moments like this one thought back to what they had and wondered if it was truly terrible.

  The worst part was that he didn’t know how to act like a beggar, and the entire thing felt wrong. He shivered as a memory came to his mind, a memory of a beggar he had once seen freezing in the winter. He couldn’t help them. He looked around at the passing crowds and asked himself, if he couldn’t help a beggar in a modern society, then what chance did these people of a preindustrial world have of helping him?

  So he sat for hours, ignoring the furtive glances Gabe was shooting his way.

  “Pts, your hand. you’re doing it wrong,” he whispered loudly.

  “What?”

  “Lift out your hand,” he said and gestured, pushing his hand out.

  A passing older woman, mistaking the gesture for an overly eager young street urchin, paused midstep, looked around, and dropped a copper in Gabe’s hand. She probably thought the boy was going on an empty stomach, and by the way, the other boy looked, he probably was.

  “Thank you,” Gabe bowed and added, “Let the River and Sun guide you. “He muttered, bowing again to the woman.

  Marcus looked down at his hand and slowly raised it.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  That single action caused him so many unpleasant emotions he that couldn’t put together. So he sat for hours, willing his mind and thoughts to flee this new place he found himself.

  Marcus was beginning to understand why Clara had put him to work immediately. If this is what they expected him to do, no wonder they did not ask if he would be comfortable. Yet again, if you were living on the streets with barely enough to eat, you did what you must.

  Those who didn’t found themselves in far worse positions.

  And all the while, labourers passed by, housewives and artisans moved past him, giving him a coin or two as a new face on the beggars’ street.

  The beggar’s streets were often located in varied trading cities. They were often filled with beggars and found before or near a market. They were a place where those too poor and unwanted often found themselves begging for anything society was willing to give them.

  And as the day came to a close, Marcus was startled from his musings as he watched the scene of all the beggars, young and old, as they stood up from their designated spots and eerily matched in a somewhat organized file away from the street and towards the gate to Srok. The guards did not seem bothered by the action, the shopkeepers and stall owners did not mind them, seemingly used to the occurrence, and for the customers, the beggars gave them a wide berth, trying to avoid any confrontation that would keep them in the city for longer.

  “Get up, we must get going the guards will close the gates soon and they will stat whipping any one left behind.” Gabe ordered, getting to his feet and stepping in behind the crowd of beggars.

  Remembering the whipping post they had moved past earlier and the half-dead man tied the one next to it, Marcus quickly got to his feet and dusted himself off

  “Yeah, lets go.”

  When they returned to the rest of the group and counted the copper coins, the two boys made a lot of coin, in this case, a lot being enough coin that they went a week without Clara having to tell them to head to the Ashfeilds to search for things to sell, enough that they each would have some dried strips of had jerky to chew on as they slept. and keep Agmak and his crew from bothering them.

  For them, it was one of those lucky breaks they got when they had enough coppers to feel safe and well-fed, and this luck continued for days after that.

  It was during the second week that the trouble came. As the two sat next to each other, Marcus noticed a group of giant people, goliaths, come and stand in front of them, two young beggars. The giant men had rough and dirty hands, wore sturdy leathers, and had heavy boots. They all had dark markings on their stone-grey bodies, marking them as true people of the giants.

  “I thought they were lying, talking about horse shit but there is an Aasimar actually begging for coin,” the large bald one said, looking at Marcus, whose hand was outstretched as he focused his eyes above the shoulder of the man.

  By looking at all passersby in this way, he caught the attention of the many who saw a young boy with one eye with a golden iris and another dull and bland. The enigma caught most people’s attention, and when they realised they were staring at the rare sight, they often felt guilty enough to leave him with some coin.

  “See what I said? You owe me ten large coppers,” the other large man with a clean chin and markings on his cheek said.

  “Ten! You said it was five,” the bald man protested, shoving back his friend.

  The other giant dressed like a smith walked closer past the two arguing fools. “Boy, I will give you one large copper if you start hopping on one leg.”

  Marcus looked at the man straight in the eye and didn’t know what to do. From the side of his eyes, he saw Gabe looking at him with an employing look and slight nods, sighing internally as he got up on his feet.

  The man got an amused look in his eyes as he watched the boy start hoping for coin.

  “Here you go,” the man laughed at him and tossed the coin in the air. “I have always wanted to see an Aasimar dance like a dog.”

  “Here,” the clean-shaven Goliath pushed the smith to the side. He looked at Gabe and then Marcus.

  After a week of living on the streets with Clara and her ring of friends and his adamant refusal to eat rat meat, his body had become as thin and scrawny as the other human street teenagers and children.

  “I will give you two large coppers if you can entertain me, “the man smiled, an idea forming in his head. He looked at Gabe.” If you punch him, I will give you a copper coin.”

  Marcus gave the large man an icy stare and turned a questioning look to Gabe. His eyes went wide in surprise as he watched Gabe stand on his feet and face him. Shocked and confused by the other boy’s actions, he quickly reacted as Gabe twisted his body and threw a punch right at his face. Reacting instantly, Marcus dodged to the right, the first missing his face.

  “Hey you dodged,” the man said, “you are not supposed to dodge.”

  “I Have a better idea,” the bold goliath said as he pointed at Marcus,” half-blood, I will give you three large coppers. “If you don’t dodge,” he nudged his fellow giants, showing what a better idea that was.

  Marcus looked at the three men who were looking at him expectantly; he turned back to Gabe. Was this what it felt like to be a half-blood in this world, pushed to the street and with no control over one’s own life? Three men wanted to see him beaten.

  He clenched his jaws and met Gabe’s blank look with resignation. He focused his mind on trying to watch for Gabe’s eyes so that he could better avoid taking the full weight of the punch. As soon as he did, he felt a buzz distracting him with slithering streams of colours and then pain across the left side of his face.

  “Do it again,” a voice said.

  As he opened his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a colourful world. In that small instant, as he recovered, he saw the world had changed. The three men and Gabe were there, but all over the sky, lines of glowing lights flowed like threads—streams of colours.

  “Again.” the voice came with cheery laughter.

  Another punch came, and he saw the same colours on everything, on everyone in the world. As he stumbled back and Fell on his butt, the colour disappeared, and all around him, the three men, along with the passersby, were looking at him, pointing, laughing at him and throwing insults at him.

  “Here you go the man threw the three large coppers onto the ground and laughed at Marcus.

  “Half Bloods useless and weak.”

  “An Aasimar, reduced to this thing because its parents can’t control themselves.”

  “Why don’t they just die.”

  “Poor thing.”

  Marcus didn’t look up. In fact, it had been foolish of him to ignore the warnings of the orphans. The world hated orphans, and the world hated half-bloods even more. He walked past the crowd, and they avoided him like the plague. He would not get angry, or so he tried to convince himself, but the looks of disgust and the spitting made his blood boil.

  “You are back early.” Geneve asked,” what happened to your face?”

  “Nothing,” Marcus said, moving over to Clara, who was seated on a stone in the closed-off alley. He placed three coins in the girl’s hand. He moved to a corner and lay on his side on the ground. He pulled out the Katch paper and focused, not because he wanted to see anything but because he wanted to calm down and forget about what had happened to him.

  Gabe returned before Marcus could fall asleep. “What happened out there? Marcus returned early with a swollen face.”

  “I’m sorry. It was my fault they told me to, and look, we made more than we had in the last two months.” Gabe held out the coins.

  A hint of understanding flashed across Clara’s face as she understood what Gabe was trying to tell him, “How could you do that?”

  “It’s fine Clara I understand why he did it,” Marcus said softly from the corner he had taken to sleeping in.

  That Night, the group didn’t say a word. Geneve offered him a roasted rat, and he refused to fall asleep in the cold Night.