First of all, hello everyone and thanks for bothering to start reading this. My name is Benedict Hardy, I’ve been planning this story for a short while, and originally meant to base it on a game and submit it to but I changed my mind and changed a couple of names to make it an original fiction.

The events of the story revolve around a young boy adopted by a thieves’ guild (the originality of it!) and who spends his time working in the city, well, stealing. For the first few chapters the plot will remain strictly linear, but soon I’ll begin the greater story, which should span a good twenty to thirty chapters, most likely more if my previous fanfictions are anything to go by.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated, even if you don’t plan on reading everything, just review the first paragraph or something. The more reviews I get, the more the ice is broken and the more people will pick up on the story. I genuinely want feedback, and criticism will not be ignored (provided it isn’t in incomprehensible 1337 speak.) so if you feel my writing is lacking, say so, and why, and I’ll do my best to improve it.

Anyway, I’ll be updating irregularly unless I get a whole lot of reviews, in which case I might set some sort of regular pattern to them. Now, on with the story! Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1: In the rain, a child.

It was raining, like it always did at this time of year down near the dockyards. Rain had become so much a part of seasonal life that people had stopped complaining after the first week, and stopped bothering to stay indoors after the second. It was the same thing every year, cold and miserable for all but the well off families in the city of Rendar.

As the evening swept over the city in the wake of the evening showers, children scurried back and forth between merchants and tradesmen who hurried home with their cloaks drawn tight against the chilling sea wind. A few brave men kept their stores up, shielding their precious wares beneath stretched layers of skins and cheap furs, calling out above the rising sound of the wind and the first few drops of rain. Soon even they were forced to retreat, their makeshift tents sinking into the muddy street as the well trodden soil became oozing pits of gently flowing ordure. Doors slammed and windows were bolted against the wind and in the dark streets, only the beggars and street children remained.

Only, however, was perhaps a misleading way of describing them. They numbered in the hundreds, sitting shivering in corners, wrapped in pilfered cotton blankets and burrowing deeper into their rags as the rainwater crept through the folds and the weave of the cloth and, before they even realised it, had soaked them to the skin. The luckier ones found themselves under the shelter of hanging eaves or upturned barrels. Some were lucky enough to discover some hidden way into a disused basement, and spent their days and nights sheltered from all but the constant dripping of water down the earthy walls.

This night was no different. The beggars sat with knobbly hands extended and the children took advantage of their size to cram themselves into tiny gaps in walls or sewer entrances. Only one thing was odd, a lone woman, young, certainly only just into adulthood, and dressed in fine wrappings was wading through the sludge. In the darkness, few could see her, her cloak was dark velvet and her hair dark brown, but those that spied her face simply nodded politely, their respect evident.

Normally, she would have smiled back at them, perhaps even recognised a few of them, but this night she didn’t even look up. Her eyes were full of water, rainwater and tears intermingled, and her attention was focussed solely on a small bundle of cloth she held in her arms. Finally stepping out of the rain into a sheltered alleyway, she dropped to her knees and shuddered a little, her sobs masked by the whistling howl of the wind. Shaking her head angrily, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her sleeve and scanned the area. A single rock stood towards the back of the alley, conspicuous in many ways, not least of all the fact that it lay in a city where any material that could be used to build with had long been clawed out of the ground and sold. Mostly however, it was the symbol etched into it that told her of its purpose.

She approached it and studied the carving, an eye shape with two horizontal lines scratched through it, one through the middle, one near the top, and a small S shaped dagger crudely chipped out below it. She sat down in the damp earth next to it and waited, heedless of the water soaking into her expensive skirt. She pulled a little at the cloth wrapped around the bundle and gazed inside, a little smile on her face which gradually wobbled and turned into another flood of tears.

She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve again, scratching her arm back and forth angrily. A tall man stood leaning against the side of the house opposite the woman. His features were fine, despite his rugged skin and stubbly chin. His upper lip sported a drooping moustache which ended in two points just short of his jawbone and a small line of beard grew from his bottom lip to the point of his sharp chin. He spoke gently, his voice thickly accented and smooth as honey “Gouging your eyes out won’t help the situation much Lady” he said aloud.

The woman started and looked up, then relaxed upon seeing who he was. “Oh Mascero, I wish you wouldn’t sneak up on me like that, it’s so disconcerting.” She seemed to have momentarily forgotten her troubles, then the little bundle shifted in her arms and she bit her bottom lip to stop it sticking out.

“You do realise I’m going to teach your son how to sneak up on people too.” He said, nodding to the shifting infant in his mother’s arms. She grinned through her tears.

“If you even think about raising him in your own image, I’ll hunt you down, mark my words. This boy is to receive a proper education.” Her smile was false; Mascero could see that quite clearly, even through the darkness. He smiled back at her, his lips curling up at the left and lifting his facial hair up a little.

“You know, if you wanted him to have the same kind of education as you had then you wouldn’t even be here.” The woman laughed wryly at this shared joke then Mascero’s face became serious again “but believe me Lady, I’ll take care of him as if he was of my own blood. I owe it to you and to his father also. Trust me on that one, he’ll not want for anything as long as I am alive to look after him, hell, even after I’m gone, I’ll make sure he has all he needs.”

The woman frowned, her forehead creasing, her face ageing by a decade with the troubles that wore down on her. “I wish I could just ask you to… to keep him at home and never let him out… but… the guild said…” she rubbed her eyes again, scraping the skin around them until it was red. Mascero put a hand on her shoulder, kneeling down to her level.

“Hyacinth listen to me. Stopping yourself from crying is like keeping a wound open, it’s painful, pointless and will only slow your healing. Look at me now.” he tilted her head up until her eyes were level with his own, dark black ones “I swear to you that no harm will come to him, on my life I swear it. The conditions for the guild taking him in may be that he must train as a thief, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be taking constant care of him, you understand that. The debts of the worst gambler in the world are as nothing compared to the debts I owe to you and his father, and I will not allow this boy to come to harm, no matter the cost, and some day, Hyacinth, I promise you that you shall be reunited with him, no sooner has he paid his due to the guild.” He finished and let go of her chin, his mouth set in a thin line and his eyes steady.

She chuckled and dropped her head. “Mascero, you forget, the world’s worst gambler is you.” She smiled at him with genuine affection. “I believe you Mascero, honestly I do. Just promise you’ll keep yourself safe as well as him, I don’t want you throwing your own life away for pointless heroism. Running away is always an option, as long as you don’t leave him behind.” She motioned to the little bundle, which had ceased its wriggling. She held it out to Mascero and he took it reverently. Then she stood up and held her back straight.

“Here’s one thing I won’t be gambling away anyway.” Mascero quipped.

“That’ll be a first” Hyacinth replied, turning away to hide her tears. She began to walk deliberately out of the alleyway, fighting the burning urge to turn around, grab her son and scream that the deal was off. But she held her composure and stepped out into the pouring rain.

“Hyacinth” Mascero called out, causing her head to twitch mechanically as she battled against her motherly instinct. “Remember what I said about crying? Nobody will see it in the rain, don’t hold it in pointlessly.” She turned to reply but the alleyway was empty, a set of footprints in the mud slowly melting away as the rain filled them. Hyacinth cursed herself for turning around, then suddenly fell to her knees, her legs too weak to support her, and screamed out a the air.

Mascero stood on a rooftop looking down at the shaking figure, barely visible in the dim light of the smothered moon. His face was solemn as he pulled back the covering to reveal a round face of a child barely two years of age. “Hello there” he grinned at the infant. “You know, I’ve always wanted a pet monkey, I guess my dream just came true.” He tickled the child on the cheek and drew a giggle of surprise. “Alright then, it’s me and you now boy.” He stopped in his tracks and slapped his forehead with his free hand. “I forgot to ask Hyacinth your name! Damn it, what an idiot I am.” He lifted the boy up to his face, and looked at him seriously. “So… what shall we call you eh?”

The rain lashed down and the wind howled, drowning out the thief’s voice as he spoke to his tiny companion, and the rain clouds continued to roll overhead, blocking out the light of the moon. It was a night without light. The perfect night for a thief.