Chapter Text
GRIAN
Grian often found himself wandering the streets alone of Villagetown. During these hours, the simple people walking and going about their everyday business was enough to allow him to duck in and under the crowds. As well, it gave him access to certain purses that were easy for him to grab as everyone was too distracted. Humans and magical creatures alike floated in and out of shops. Some carried around carts of goods, and others walked alongside their families. It was busy, and it was what the young 19-year-old was used to.
He moved swiftly through the crowd, attempting to ease his way over to the blacksmith where a much older and fatter man worked all day and night. He lived in the apartment above the shop, and occasionally allowed Grian to eat lunch with him and his children as long as he could pay something in return. Money and food were tight, after all. Some other tradesmen had been as kind as the blacksmith over the years. The butcher would sometimes toss a coin his way for catching a rat in the streets, even if he would never sell it. The florist was a sweet younger woman that would allow Grian to rest in the back of her shop. He was thankful for them.
A twinge of hunger pinched within him, and he snuck a peak down at the maroon purse he held hidden in his palm. He was able to take it off some noble that had been too preoccupied with screaming at a vender to notice a small portion of his wealth had gone missing. Those rich men were sometimes the most careless with their belongings. After some time of weaving himself in and out of the crowds, he was close to the blacksmiths home. He could even hear the steel clanging against each other, a sound the shop was famous for.
He stayed to the side of the road and looked over to watch the horses and their riders that passed by every now and then. Most held the banners of Dogwarts, some for The Crastle. Other banners flew for lesser-known houses, but none of them held the same valor and honor as the two that ruled this area of the country. There were more today than usual. Grian had heard rumors of a tourney that would take place just north of here. This meant that every noble and their court would find themselves traveling through Villagetown.
Years ago, he would imagine himself riding along side some of the Ladies and Lords. Dressed as a knight, proudly holding up a sigil he hasn’t seen since he was a child. He used to think that, he too, would be able to joust in front of the great houses, bringing pride to his family. But those were dreams from a boy who no longer existed and who was apart of a family that had been gone for nearly 10 years. When first arriving to the city, the sight of the riders used to fill him with dread. Now they’re nothing more than a hurdle in his everyday life.
He waited at the edge of the cobblestone road for a small Dogwarts unit to move along until he could finally cross the street and make it to the blacksmiths shop. Others did the same, and he could see young children staring up at the riders with pure awe. Most of them wore beautifully crafted armor with dyed leather of colors that were rare to come across. Though Grian was smaller than most men his age, he was still able to just peak above some heads to admire them as well.
The woman beside him, old and looking as though she could crawl out of her skin, yelled loud enough for everyone within a city block radius to hear. “Seeds! Get seeds of the rare eastern trees!” He jumped slightly. Her voice, funny enough, seemed to have never worn from the many years she had been screaming.
Typically, Grian would’ve ignored a screaming merchant. They were everywhere within the city, and they always sold some strange goods as well. At one point, he stumbled upon a screamer selling live pufferfish. A strange trade, but still rare in their area of the world. As he began to move away to protect his ears, he couldn’t help but notice a man walking up to the screamer.
He was a tall man, wrapped in a silk stitched cloth with a floral design with colors of pinks and purples lining the edges. It was small for him, as the cloak only stopped at the end of his torso instead of the length of his body. Underneath, it appeared as though he was wearing nothing. As well, the bottoms were little to be desired. But what really threw Grian off was the lack of shoes.
While poverty within the city wasn’t rare, never would you find such an underdressed man parading around in such a beautifully designed, and possibly extremely expensive, cloak. It was clear as day to Grian, that this man was a thief. And not a very subtle one. He waited casually back in the crowd and watched as he began speaking with the screamer.
“An eastern tree, you say?” The tall man's voice was smooth and slid out of a shifty smile that began forming on his face. Grian continued watching to see if he would be able to catch the man in the act. He listened as he heckled and tried to bargain with the woman, but to little luck. If he was a thief or conman, he was bad at it.
He had decided that watching this man work was not to his interest. At least, that was until a large purse made itself known. The man held it high, but his voice grew lower. So low that even Grian who has been intentionally trying to listen, was completely unable to hear. But he was able to see it all.
The screamer took a coin from the man and handed him over her entire carried inventory. She walked away; her grin so wide that Grian would have believed that she had just been crowned Queen of the country.
The blacksmith’s shop was just across the street, but suddenly the slight pain he had felt in his stomach from hunger was gone and replaced with an excitement. Whatever coins this man had stolen, or assumed stolen, were valuable.
The tall man was too distracted looking around at the bustling city, large supply of seeds in his arms, to notice the small figure from behind him snatch the purse from the loose belt he had attached it back to. An easy enough maneuver, and one he had carried out hundreds of times. Without missing a beat, Grian began walking away with a nonchalant stride, confident he was about to be a very rich man.
That was, until he felt the forceful pull of something on his body. In an instant, he was whipped back to where the tall man stood. A blue haired garden elf stood beside him. The ears were pointy, and had jewels dangling down. A common accessory for the magic creatures in the south. Somehow, the elf had used magic to pull him back. Both stared down at him.
He had been caught by guards once or twice, but was able to use his nimbleness to just barely escape. That, or they would let him go, taking whatever he had pocketed. This was all because he looked younger than his actual age, and most felt bad for throwing a child into the city jails. But he could tell he wouldn’t get off so easy with these two.
It hadn’t occurred to him that the tall man had come from the south. A place that was known but still so foreign to him. The look in his eyes wasn’t anger, but disappointment. Never before had he’d been stopped with magic, and he didn’t feel like sticking around was going to go in his favor. Not this time.
Grian got up and started running.