Chapter Text
Even the most well traveled roads have their fair share of bumps. Gouges left into the ground by a strike of bad weather or an unruly dromas. Making the carts that pass over them jitter on occasion. The girl curled up within one clacks her teeth together when the wheels trail over one such bump. Her tail flicks and she quickly grabs it to force it still. It twitches within her grasp and her own hold against it almost hurts. Yet she stubbornly clings on until the limb gives up and goes still.
Cifera doesn’t know how long she’s been laying back here. Having drifted in and out of sleep several times, regularly woken up by the slightest disturbance. It has to have been hours at least. Far longer than one should stay still in such an uncomfortable position.Yet Cifera doesn’t have much of a choice. Moving from one city to another is too dangerous on foot for a girl her age. That’s just asking to get killed by a roaming monster or worse, taken by some thug prowling the roads. So she lies within her hiding place and waits.
After what feels like an eternity, the cart slows to a stop. Her cat-like ears swivel atop her head, pushing at the hood covering them. Picking up the sounds of muffled words and footsteps. They grow closer and she holds her breath when she feels a weight press against the cart. A bag is pushed aside, it shoves at her back. Cifera holds her breath. Things are shuffled about around her. Don’t find me. Don’t find me, don’t find me, please Zagreus don’t let them find me.
“All clear!” A shout rings out and the objects are placed back where they originally were. Only when she hears the footsteps move away from the cart does she empty her lungs.
The cart jerks as it starts moving again. Cifera counts to sixty before she starts to wiggle free from her hiding place. Crawling out of an overwise empty burlap sack and shutting her eyes the moment they’re blinded by light. She feels around a bit, finding the edge of the cart, arms painfully stiff. She tries opening her eyes and there are white spots at the edge of her vision still but it's manageable.
Peeking out from over the edge reveals a crowded street. Dozens of people moving back and forth. A few merchants calling out to them as they pass. Nobody paying any attention to those on the road. Perfect.
Cifera hops over the edge of the cart and stumbles forward. She accidentally bumps into a lady, apoogises to her and then slinks between the crowds. The traveling merchants whose goods she had squeezed between none the wiser.
The girl slips within an alleyway to give herself some breathing room. Her whole body is awkwardly stiff. Muscles protesting moving after being perfectly still for so long. Yet she refuses to stop. Sitting down in an alleyway when she doesn’t know the lay of the land is too dangerous. It’d be easy for her to accidently corner herself. So instead she finds a wall with some grooves jutting out of it that she can clamber up. It’s slower than she would like, anyone could spot her if they passed by. Thankfully nobody does. Today luck is on her side.
It’s only once Cifera is on the roof that she allows herself to relax. She did it. She made it to Okhema, if the giant looming figure of Kephale is anything to go by. There’s a mountain range and an entire other city between her and Dolos. Those that were hunting her down won’t think to look this far for her.
Of course, being in an entirely unfamiliar city-state comes with its own set of issues. Cifera sits down against the edge of the roof and pulls her oversized hood down. Freeing her ears and also making it easier for her to study the streets down below. She also unlatches a small pouch from her belt, shaking it. The coins inside rattle. Not a lot, but should be enough to get by comfortably for a week so long as she rations food.
Finding a source of income is going to prove the greatest and most important challenge. Cifera currently doesn’t have anything on her she can peddle, and even if she did she doesn’t know where to go to sell them. Back in Dolos there were a few backdoor dealers that would buy the jewelery she’d stolen without question. However it took months to earn their trust. Finding regular buyers here is going to take even longer.
Cifera’s stomach clenches. A mix between nervousness and hunger pinching at her gut. She grumbles and sets her attention down below. She can spot a couple of restaurants from her perch but those are a no go. Not with how she’s dressed. She thinks she can spy a fruit stall further down. That’ll work.
But as she commences her search, a frown marrs her lips. Cifera’s eyes flit from one person to the next. A common denominator being found amongst all of them, regardless of whether they’re a man, woman, adult, child, or elder. Not a single one of them has furry ears or a tail.
Her own tail wraps tight around her waist. Cifera figured as much, the last city she was in didn’t have many people like her either, but none at all? Not a single Dolosian cat? That’s both reassuring and annoying. It means Cifera was right to flee here but also means she’ll stand out way too much. She could get another cloak that doesn’t have slots for her ears but that’ll just make it harder for her to hear. It’s not like she’d be able to do much about her tail either since the damn thing has a mind of its own.
Cifera’s stomach gurggles and she responds with a groan. Food first, worry about safety measures later. She slings her hood up before clambering back down. Her feline agility allowing her to quietly land within an alleyway. When she steps into the open street she thinks she feels a few curious eyes upon her however no one makes any move to stop her.
The fruit stall Cifera had spotted from above is manned by a middle aged man. She quietly clicks her tongue at that. He doesn’t call out to try and attract any customers as his neighbors are, for those that want fresh produce will naturally come to him. Cifera eyes the box filled with red apples. Shiny and tempting. She could easily swipe one. All it would take is waiting for him to become distracted with a customer. However sense urges her to actually buy one. It’d be bad if she were to be pursued after she had just arrived in Okhema and doesn’t know the layout of the city at all.
“Excuse me!” So Cifera taps the edge of the stall’s counter to get its owner’s attention. “How much for an apple, good sir?”
The fruit seller opens his mouth to answer but no sound comes out when he actually looks at her. Gaze roving up and down the young girl’s ratty clothes. Try as Cifera had to keep them in good condition, there’s only so much she can do while being regularly chased, tripping, and climbing.
“Boy, where are your parents? You look like you’ve been lost in the mountains.” Is what he eventually says instead of answering her questions.
“I can assure you my hands are clean, if that’s what you’re worried about. Look!” Cifera brings up her hands, opening her palms to show her hands are indeed clean. Not bothering to correct him.
“That’s not what I- Oh whatever." He leans against the counter with one arm, and reaches out with the other, palm raised. "Apples are three coins each.”
Not even a quint, that's on the cheap end but she isn’t going to complain. Cifera easily fishes that amount from her pouch and drops them into his awaiting palm. Then she plucks one of the apples from the bunch. One that looks a little bigger than the rest.
“Actually you know what kid? Have a second. It’s on the house.” The fruit seller casually offers as he rolls the coins between his palm.
“You’re a nice man sir." The tip of Cifera's tail twitches. A fang peeks out from between her lips. "Better watch out though, being so generous to the wrong person means you’ll get taken advantage of.”
“Trust me kid, you don’t need to tell me. Just take another before I change my mind.” He waves off her concern without a care.
“Only if you promise to sell them for their actual price next time.” Cifera winks and the man laughs. His deceit having been seen righ through.
Movement flickers in the corner of Cifera’s eye. A golden butterfly that had been resting against a post has started flapping its wings. Taking off and flying away to who-knows-where. After that brief distraction, she waves farwell to the fruit seller with an apple in each hand.
Though she had acted friendly towards him, once she’s reached the end of the street the pit that had formed in her stomach grows impossible to ignore. Not even a day and Cifera has already acquired a debt, and from a man at that. It might seem like a mere moment of generosity but that’s how they get you. It starts with small things, tiny favors that by themselves don’t mean much, but then they pile higher and higher. Then all of a sudden you have a receipt being shoved in your face listing off how much you owe someone and you have little choice but to go along with their whims. Thus Cifera won’t be going back to that fruit stall. It’s too risky.
Her appetite ruined, Cifera randomly meanders through the marketplace. Trying to get a feel for what kind of stores are where and how big it is. Slowly sketching together a rough map inside of her head. She’s reached past where the stores selling the essentials are and finds herself surrounded by more extravagant establishments. There are less people around too. Which is bad news because that means she stands out even more.
She’s debating turning back around when a sound makes her ears straighten atop her head. A familiar call that tempts Cifera towards it. She turns her head to follow its direction, finding a store that's smaller and more humble than its neighbors. The wooden sign hanging from its counter reading “Goldweaver”, though no one is manning it at the moment.
The noise is coming from behind the building. Cifera slips into the allway adjacent to it. The shadows from the other buildings bringing a sense of comfort. Less light means it's harder for others to make out her features.
The source of the noise comes in the form of a cat meowing at the store’s back door. There’s not just one, but five total lounging about. Each of them eyeing the door with varying degrees of impatience. They’re all strays too. Cifera can tell from the look of their fur. Dirty yet they all seem pretty healthy. Not a single one of them is scrawny.
The distinct click of a lock being turned makes Cifera’s ears shoot upright. She hugs her back to the wall, keeping herself out of sight from the person stepping out from the door. The cat that was meowing starts yowling louder. While the others that she can still spot get onto their feet to approach whoever presumably owns this store.
“Yes, yes, I know. I’m a minute late.” A woman’s voice attempts to soothe the talkative cat. It only makes the cat meows grow more insistent. “Oh quit acting like you’re starving.”
Cifera should leave. She’s clearly wandered into the more posh section of the marketplace and there’s nothing to be gained from skulking in the shadows here. Not when she doesn’t know who in this city will barter stolen goods.
And yet curiosity urges her to peak around the corner. Wondering what kind of rich lady decided to take on the burden of keeping the local strays fed. Cifera pokes her head out just enough to spy the back of a tall figure. There isn’t much she can make out from this angle. Even so the lady’s blonde curls that drape half-way down her back renders the little thief awestruck. Such a vibrant shade of yellow! In fact, the lady’s hair almost looks like it’s glowing within the shadows of the buildings. Glittering as if each strand were woven from gold. Pretty.
Cifera watches the woman toss chunks of meat at the stray cats, making sure each of them get a helping. Berating the ones that try to steal from the others. One of the cats chooses to pick up its serving and carry it away instead of eating then and there. It happens to go over to where Cifera is hiding and looks up at her curiously. Spotted head tilting as green eyes inspect her. Then it sits down in front of her and starts to tear into its meal.
When Cifera hears the shop’s back door open and shift again, she slides her back down the wall. Sitting down in the alleyway with the stray cat who accepted her as a kindred spirit. Suddenly it's as if all the anxiety churning her stomach never existed. So she brings out one of her apples from where she’d stuffed them under her cloak and takes a bite out of it, savoring her meager dinner.
That moment ends up marking the beginning of a habit that continues on and off during her first month in Okhema. Cifera tells herself it's because the weaveshop is strategically positioned. That it sits in a nice central point where she can easily access several places of interest from. Which isn't entirely wrong, but it's also not the only thing that draws her to that alleyway.
During that time she makes sure to keep her hands mostly clean. The worst Cifera does is pluck a few coins from unwitting pockets. Wanting to get a proper feel for how things work around here before taking any bigger risks than that.
During that month, Cifera quickly realizes that Okhema is much safer than Dolos. Here it seems laws are evenly enforced with no obvious bias. Guards regularly patrol the markets and she's also caught a few casually chatting up the store owners. There's a great deal of trust between the citizens and the government to be fair and only punish those who deserve it. The complete opposite of her hometown.
That sense of safety makes it so ordinary folks aren’t all that guarded on the streets. It seems to only be in the poorer parts of the city, where there are practically no guards stationed, that the crooks act more boldly. Even then they make sure to keep any ill behavior out of the open streets to avoid drawing attention.
Naturally quite a few people have recognized that Cifera is a Dolosian in that time. Cat-eared folks aren’t native to any other land and since basically all traveling merchants pass through Okehma, many are also aware of her people’s reputation. A chunk of them take pity on Cifera on account of her age, assuming her to be some sort of refugee. They’re not entirely wrong. It’s just that it wasn’t the poverty and crime that she fled from. Then there’s the second type of people who spit and curse at her. Shooing Cifera away as if she were an actual cat trying to steal from their plate. At least nobody has tried to grab her ears or tail yet. The moment someone does, they're getting scratched.
During that month, she also eventually overhears the name of the weave shop's owner. Lady Aglaea is how her customers refer to her. They regard her with a degree of what almost looks like reverence. As if they were speaking to royalty instead of a seamstress. A detail that pricks at her curiosity, especially since most of her customers seem to be pretty well off themselves. To the point where Cifera considers if it's worth eventually trying to grab something from within her shop only to quickly discard the idea.
Funnily fancy clothes are harder to peddle off than rare gems. Custom garments that aren’t mass produced are all too easy to trace back. Not to mention finding someone actually interested in buying stolen clothes is much trickier, as it actually has to fit them. Whereas if its rings or necklaces Cifera wants to get her hands on then there are better stores to grab them from.
And Cifera will need to start properly stealing soon if she’s to be in a stable position. She’s managed to get the basic necessities for survival and that’s about it. Her coin pouch has remained pathetically light. The clothes on her back are all she has. Worse yet, her shoes have begun to feel the stretch of wear and tear. Cifera could eventually save up enough by skipping meals but that brings about a whole other risk. If she’s not somewhat properly fed when danger comes calling then she won’t be able to run as well as she’d like. Although the same can be said with how her shoes are starting to fall apart. A tricky situation all around.
Cifera’s ears perk up at the sound of a door opening. The cat that was laying next to her similarly raises his head. With a stretch, he saunters over to the seamstress and joins the others in begging. Cifera remains seated where she is, completely out of sight from this humble yet prominent store’s owner. Listening to that smooth voice attempting to appease the hungry crowd circling her.
Before the seamstress leaves, a new and unfamiliar sound reaches Cifera’s ears. A small click that would’ve been inaudible to a normal human. It’s shortly followed by the closing of the back door.
Cifera peeks around her corner to find a small wooden case on the floor. Curiosity drives the thief to skulk out from the shadows to take it, quickly scurrying back to her hiding place once it's in hand. The case is small and flat. Shaking it doesn’t make any sort of rattling noise. Cifera’s tail thumps as she pops open the latch.
Within is a pair of gloves. Cifera slips one onto a hand. It doesn’t quite fit her, sitting a little bit loose against her, but there’s a thread around the wrist to tighten it. The glove is made with a double layering of materials. The outer layer being sturdy, the kind of leather worn by manual workers. While the inside has a softer, more comfortable material lining it.
Realization creeps in slow yet hard. How did she know that Cifera was there? Not once has she ever gotten closer than this whenever the seamstress steps outside. Always remaining in a position where she wouldn’t be able to spot her even if she looked in Cifera's direction.
Conflict arises within the thief. This little alleyway is the one safe haven she’s managed to find during her time here. There are other places that are secure rest spots, but she doesn’t feel as comfortable in them as she does this one. Except the seamstress knowing that she’s been hanging out here changes that. This time she was given a pair of gloves, next time it could be a guard waiting to throw her into a cell. The moment that posh woman finds out she’s a thief she’ll undoubtedly assume Cifera is staking out her place and-
The sensation of a cat nudging her elbow snaps Cifera out from her spiraling thoughts. With a sigh she glides a hand along that cat’s back, watching her tail rise as she nears the base of it. At the same time she looks down at the case and the glove that’s still inside of it. Maybe she’s overthinking things and this wasn’t actually meant for her. It’s not like Cifera actually saw how the case ended up on the floor. For all she knows it could’ve fallen out from a bag or something when the Goldweaver bent down to pet the cats.
Her decision made, Cifera puts on the other glove and abandons the case in the alleyway. If the seamstress did drop it by accident, then tough luck. These are her gloves now. It’s her own fault for not being more careful with her things. Plus Cifera highly doubts whoever these gloves were actually made for would’ve put them to proper use. Probably some snotty rich kid that couldn’t tell a good pair of gloves from flimsy ones.
That’s enough sitting around and thinking. The seamstress always feeds the cats just before the hour most people around here eat dinner. Which means shops are going to start closing up soon. If Cifera is going to grab anything today then she needs to do it now.
There’s one store not far from here that she’s been eyeing up lately. An establishment that specializes in fine jewelry. Specifically she wants to yoink a gem out from one of its necklaces. That place sells quite a few that have sizable gemstones embedded in them. One of them is bound to earn her a hefty pay.
The door has been left open when Cifera spots it. The streets are thin, not many people out and about. She would’ve actually preferred it to be more crowded. It's easier to slip away unnoticed that way. More people means each pedestrian is less likely to recall details about those that pass them by.
Cifera walks along the street with an unbothered gait. Her ears perk as they pick up voices coming from inside. A man and a woman going back and forth about the proper gift to give to a lady or something like that from what she overhears. They seem deep in their conversation and as far as she can tell they’re the only ones inside. If Cifera is going to act, she has to do it while they’re focused on each other.
She ducks low as she steps past the doorway, making the woman behind the counter less likely to notice her. Cifera quickly scans the inside. There aren’t many goods left on display. The real valuable stuff must be in the room behind the counter. In fact, she sees the shopkeeper turn around to grab something from there. The perfect chance!
Cifera turns a little too quickly. She bumps her elbow against the display table. The thief manages to suppress the surprised yelp that threatened to leave her and crouches down until she’s practically on her knees.
“What the…?”
There’s another display separating her from the counter, and more importantly the man standing in front of it. Thanks to that, Cifera isn’t spotted immediately. However it's only a matter of time. She hears the storekeeper returning to the front and if she tries to bolt for the door then she’ll definitely be spotted. In that moment of panic, Cifera does the only thing she can think of. She lets out a high-pitched yowl indistinguishable from the animals she shares features with.
“Ah, one of the strays must have wandered in. That’s what I get for leaving the door open.” The storekeeper grumbles as she sets something down on his counter.
Cifera places a hand over her mouth to keep the relieved sigh that escapes her from being noticed. Thank the Titans that worked.
“I have noticed a few of them around. Though they seem pretty plump for strays.” The customer's shirt creases as he turns back around. Making such a quiet sound that only particularly strong ears could hear it.
“Either they’re good at taking food from under people’s noses or someone is feeding them.” She can hear the storekeeper’s exasperation. Another person’s disdain for cats has never sounded so sweet. “What do you think of this one?”
Cifera, far more carefully, reaches up to grab a necklace without caring which one. Taking the first one her fingers brush against. She bunches up the chain and shoves it into her coin pouch as she quietly slips outside. Straightening out and doing her best to seem casual. Keeping her hood low to make it harder for others to see how pale her complexion has become. Only allowing herself to relax once she’s back in the weaveshop’s shadow.
That was way too close! It was only through dumb luck that Cifera got away with that. Luck and this city-state’s lax stance on security in the nicer neighborhoods. Were this Dolos then she would’ve been dragged by her tail the second she looked too long at the store. Thank Zagreus the people here are idiots.
A flutter of movement out of the corner of her eye makes Cifera jolt. She just as quickly relaxes upon seeing the fluttering wings of a butterfly as it lands against the wall opposite to the one she’s leaning on. That’s another thing she’s come to observe about Okhema. There are a lot of these weird golden butterflies around. They’re not people-shy, but they usually stay out of reach as well. Weird but completely harmless, so Cifera doesn’t pay them any mind.
Inspecting her spoil is far more important than worrying about a bug. It’s a simple necklace with a gold chain and a shiny red gem hanging from it. A ruby? Looks like one. That’s a relief. A gemstone she can recognize means Cifera will know if the person she fences it to is trying to scam her or not. Although the price might be slightly different then how it’d sell in Dolos. She’s noticed some things are cheaper in Okhema than she’s used to.
“Not bad for a first haul.” Cifera mutters to herself while holding up the necklace by the ruby. It should get her a good amount while not being so expensive that it’ll cause any alarms.
A grin spreads across her lips. Yeah, this should give her enough to get new shoes and have plenty left over. Cifera stuffs it back into her coin pouch and leaves the safety of the alleyway with a spring to her step, already knowing where to sell it.
This isn’t just going to be her first proper theft but also a test run of sorts to see if she’s correctly identified a buyer. With the current fucked up state of the world, scavenging ruins for treasure has been growing in popularity lately. Whether that be historical relics or just straight up gold. So naturally that also means there is a store that specializes in both appraising and buying such relics off of those treasure hunters.
From what Cifera has observed, the one who runs it operates on a “no questions asked” policy. As far as he needs to know, she’s just another scavenger digging through ruins in hopes of hitting it big. Whether or not he’ll be a reliable buyer if she ever gets her hands on something more distinct, only time will tell. But for now it should help her get on her feet.
“Good evening sir!” Cifera calls to him with a slight strain to her voice, having jogged all the way over to ensure she’d arrive before locking up. “Would you be willing to take on one more customer before closing?”
The man with wrinkles around his eyes and short, stiff hair growing around his chin, eyes her lazily. He sets aside the cloth he was using to wipe down a vase with, looking the young thief up and down. The longer he stares without answering, the heavier the air feels. Yet Cifera refuses to let her smile drop. Waiting impatiently for him to answer.
“I suppose not." He moves to grab a scale and set it against the counter, as well as a bag that jingles with coins. "What do you have for me?”
Cifera unceremoniously places the necklace onto his awaiting hand. A subtle shudder passes through her at that brief contact that thankfully goes unnoticed. The appraiser lifts it up, turns it to and fro. Taking out a monocular to inspect the gemstone. Humming as he does so.
“It’s a fake.” A short, almost immediate conclusion that makes the fur on her tail stand completely upright.
“What? Don’t you dare think you can pull one over me just because I’m young!” Cifera stretches onto the tips of her toes and slams her palms against the counter.
Without a word, he reaches beneath his counter and brings out a cut ruby. He holds it side-by-side with the necklace for Cifera to compare. At first she doesn’t get what he’s expecting her to see. Only when the appraiser tilts them both slightly, she notices it. The way light reflects through the cut ruby and the stone in the necklace is different. A subtle enough distinction that she never would have noticed without having the real thing for comparison.
Cifera groans and slams her head against the edge of the counter. Of course. She should have known better. Only an idiot would put the real deal on a shelf with no lock to keep it secure. That was on her for assuming the jeweler to be that careless. So desperate to get her hands on something that could fill her pockets that she didn’t think to question it.
“Don’t take it to heart, kid. Most adults wouldn’t notice the difference either.” The appraiser sets the necklace down in front of her and returns the ruby to its proper place.
“Ugh, I’m more mad about wasting my time over nothing.” And endangering herself to boot. Not that Cifera is going to say that part aloud.
“I’ll buy it off you anyways, just don’t expect much.” The necklace is placed upon one end of the scale. It dips all the way down before gradually lifting back up when he starts setting balance coins in the other. Carefully adjusting the amount to see where they even out.
“I don’t need your pity.” Cifera raises her head just so she can glare at him. Her tail puffs out and straightens as well. Agitation is coiling tight enough within her that she can't be bothered to play nice.
“It’s not pity but an investment.” His gaze flickers down, landing near her throat. “Not just anyone can get their hands on one of Zagreus’s Coins of Whimsy.”
“It’s not for sale.” Cifera’s hand flies up to cover the cat-shaped coin pinned to the collar of her hood. Her ears tilt back and teeth are bared.
“Oh don’t worry, I know no price can be put on them. The fact that you have that means Zagreus likes you, for better or worse. Plus being a Dolosian…" The broker grins, crooked teeth gleaming. "In due time you’re going to get your hands on relics others could only dream of and I’ll happily take them off you when you do.”
It’s Cifera’s turn to observe him. She doesn’t trust people who try to come across as altruistic, but a business proposal? Now that’s the sort of generosity she can get behind. If they mutually benefit from cooperating then he has less reason to stab her in the back. Besides, anyone who recognizes what this coin is doesn’t have clean hands either.
"You've got yourself a deal for now. So long as you pay me fairly then I'll keep doing business with you." This is good- great even, if he's telling the truth. Of course Cifera will still keep an eye out for other potential buyers just to be safe. However finding one gives her more leeway to take her time.
"Then next time bring me the real deal instead of an imitation." The broker starts gathering the coins left in the scale.
Touche. The competitive spark within Cifera has been lit. Next time, she'll definitely bring something that will make his eyes pop out of his skull. That'll show him not to underestimate and belittle her.
"You're new around here, right?" The appraiser asks as he counts out her payment, to which she nods. A month would be a long time if she were just visiting, but as a new resident that's hardly any. "Then let me give you advice as a sign of goodwill: The Imperator and her Chrysos Heirs have eyes and ears everywhere. If you want to live comfortably in Okhema, then don't do anything that'll draw their attention."
A shiver runs through her at the warning. Of course Cifera knew before arriving that Okhema is a city-state that hails Chrysos Heirs as heroes. A vastly different view from the rest of the world. It's largely why she chose to come here out of all places. She has also heard of their feats, how they'e actually managed to slay Georios and gained the blessing of both Cerces and Mnestia. That's without including the tales of corrupt nobles that were brought to the gallows under the Imperator's orders. Such stories spread far and fast throughout Amphoreus.
She looks down at her fingers that cling to the edge of the counter. Thinks of the gold that is hidden beneath her skin. Cifera is no hero. She is the exact opposite. A liar, a thief, a no good stray that only ever takes without giving unless its convenient. A Dolosian cat to the very core. There is no way a group that constantly spouts about wanting to save the world from evil will accept her. No way. They'd sooner execute Cifera for sullying the reputation of the Chrysos Heirs.
"Course they've got their eyes set on bigger prey than thieves. So unless you do something that causes a ruckus, you should be fine." Her newly anointed buyer slides the stacks of balance coins towards her.
"Thanks for the heads up. I'll be sure to remember that." Cifera doesn't bother checking how much he gave her. Shoving it into her pouch before turning tail and leaving before he can say anything else.
She huffs and kicks at the dirt as she goes. Tail twitching erratically behind her. Not at all the result she was hoping for, but at the same time Cifera wouldn't consider this little heist a failure. She's managed to secure herself a buyer. That means from here on out she can afford to be bolder. Alright, it's settled. Tomorrow she's going to get a proper haul!
…Or so she had confidently thought at the time. In Cifera's competitive eagerness, she ended up being reckless. Thinking that because she had gotten away by the skin of her teeth the first time then she can pull it off again no issue. This time making sure to grab the real deal. Specifically trying to swipe an expensive looking brooch off a dromas's harness. It seemed like it'd be so stupidly easy to do. Seriously, who would waste fine jewelry on decorating a mount? It could have just as easily snapped off on its own!
Apparently the dromas didn't take too kindly to her clambering up its side to reach the brooch. She managed to grab it but only just before the beast stomped its legs with a whiny gruff. After being thrown onto her back by the irate dromas, brooch in hand, Cifera hears a half-panicked half-angry shout.
She had scrambled onto all fours and started bolting. Except that fall had been a hard one, having landed awkwardly on her side. Her arm and leg had been scraped making both sting. It made it difficult for Cifera to pick herself up. The movements of her limbs too stiffened from the pain to move with the type of speed she needs in this moment.
Cifera doesn't manage to get far before a hand snatches the tip of her tail and pulls. A sharper, more potent kind of pain instantly shoots up her spine. Her legs buckle beneath her and she slams face first into paved stone. The brooch clatters somewhere, having been released from her death-grip. It's as if all of her limbs have gone completely limp.
"You're a bold thief, I'll give you that." A deep gruff resounds just behind her. It makes the pounding starting up in her ears thrum louder. "Don't think that just because you're young you can escape punishment."
Cifera's chest tightens. Her mind drifting back to when she once witnessed a woman being dragged away. The men around her sneered at her panicked wails. The utterly foul words they spat out, laughing as they threw around ideas of what to do with her. Their increasingly graphic descriptions made Cifera's stomach curl and-
The pressure on her tail vanishes. Despite this Cifera cannot bring herself to move. Her mind is struggling to separate memory from present. She vaguely registers that two people are talking nearby. One with a voice that grates at her ears and the other a soothing balm in contrast. She manages to turn her head enough to spot a heel and the end of a white dress.
Eventually that woman kneels down in front of her. Cifera is met with golden hair and two-toned eyes. It's the owner of the Goldweaver shop. She's offering a hand to Cifera who takes it without thinking. The seamstress helps her stand. She says something but the thief's ears are ringing too loudly for her to hear. Aglaea's lips pinch together when Cifera merely stares at her. It's not that she doesn't want to respond, but that she can't. It's as if she is a spectator watching from afar rather than actually inside of her body.
It's also why when Aglaea pulls her along, Cifera obediently follows without trying to resist. The edges of her vision are blurred, she can't really tell where they're going, only feel the stares of various eyes locked onto her frame, and that makes the panicked fog that's settled within her grow thicker. The more she tries to fight it, the tighter its hold becomes.
Cifera can do nothing but drift along as her chest tightens. Barely registering that they've stopped or that she's being urged to sit down. It's only when something rubs against her cheek that Cifera starts to regain control of herself. That soft, fuzzy sensation so out of place that it shoves her nerves back into her hands.
A cat meows right into her face before nuzzling against her. Cifera blinks, ears perking upright and the tip of her tail twitching. A heavy arm is raised and lazily glides along the cat's back. It starts to purr and she feels the back of her throat rumble in response. The Dolosian cat gives into her inner instincts and accepts the comfort she's being given. Strays got to stick together after all.
Soft laughter fills her ears. Cifera snaps upright with a startled yowl. The cat pressed against her jumps away, surprised by her reaction. With it off of her she can clearly see the golden woman sitting across from her. Both of their backs pressed to opposing walls of a familiar alley.
It's the first time Cifera is able to properly see Aglaea's face. Usually whenever she spots the seamstress it's from behind or a vague glimpse from between other people. There's no way to sugar coat it, she's beautiful. The type of perfect beauty that Cifera has only ever seen carved onto the faces of statues. There's also a haziness to the seamstress's eyes that feels unnatural. It's like she isn't actually looking at Cifera but past her.
"Feeling better now, kitty?" Now that she has a face to it, Aglaea's already smooth voice more pleasantly rolls through her ears.
"I was fine. I didn't need your help." How dangerous. A face this beautiful is as deadly a weapon as a knife in the right hands. Cifera needs to be careful to not fall into the palm of the seamstress's hand.
"The fact that you were having a panic attack says otherwise." Aglaea's smile is as sweet as honey. Her cloudy eyes crinkle and her golden hair
"That was an act. The most effective way to escape is to make your captor let their guard down." Cifera grins, showing off the point of a fang. Having learned well how to control her expressions.
"Sure, if you say so." Yet Aglaea isn't falling for it. Merely growing more amused at her attempts to appear unbothered.
Cifera sneers, baring her fangs. Yet a realization hits her. She leans to the side and notes how Aglaea's eyes do not follow that movement. They remain staring straight ahead without so much as an instinctual glance. Blind then. Is it bad if that reassures Cifera? After all it means she could pretty easily flee from the seamstress if it comes down to it. She isn't any sort of threat.
The cat that had been startled saunters back over. This time it rubs against Aglaea's knee. That gets her to tilt her head. She reaches out to the stray and lets it rub against her fingers. Scratching that furry chin, making the cat lean so far into her hand that it plops down onto its side.
The scene should be sweet if anything, yet witnessing it makes the frustration within Cifera surge to the surface. She slams her palm down with a growl that can't escape the seamstress's notice. Her tail angrily wags and bats against the wall. It makes both Aglaea and the cat jump. The latter of which runs away with its hackles raised.
"Don't think you can treat me like those strays just because I've got ears and a tail!" The tail in question puffs out, fur standing straight. While Cifera's ears tilt back. Not that the seamstress can see either.
"It wasn't at all my intention to." Aglaea quickly responds. Her sightless eyes wide and that infuriating smile gone. "You always seemed so relaxed while playing with them so I figured they'd help you calm down." She turns away. Embarrassed? Shame? One of the two. "I'm not familiar with Dolosian customs, so if I ever say or do anything that offends please explain what I did wrong."
Oh Titans be damned, now Cifera feels a little guilty for snapping like that. Damn pretty people and their stupidly effective puppy-dog-eyes. She wonders if the seamstress even realizes what she's doing or if it comes naturally to her. Although between her looks and her refined style she probably comes from some decently well off family. Maybe she's daddy's favorite or something. It's a wonder Aglaea hasn't been married off. Or maybe she is and the Dolosian happens to keep missing her husband.
"I meant I'm not some charity case you can pick up to make yourself feel good. I can take care of myself. Just not used to this city yet." Of course Cifera isn't going to apologize. Nothing she said was wrong and she doesn't want to be looked down upon as being helpless. She's old enough to be apprenticed and start working, not that anyone would actually accept a dirty thief such as her.
Aglaea studies her in whatever way a blind person can. Probably listening to how her tail continues to thump angrily. A snooty rich lady would've been offended by the Dolosian's tone. Go on some guilt tripping tirade about how since they helped her she should show them proper respect. And if there's one thing Cifera hates more than backstabbers it's the "morally righteous" types who think that just because they do one good thing the world should kiss their feet.
Instead of doing any of that, Aglaea merely smiles and sheepishly tips her head. Her golden bangs half covering her eyes which she pushes back. There's a hint of amusement within that look. Not the mocking sort, but like when you're tickled by something small and cute trying to look tough.
"I believe you." Aglaea reassures her and the thief's tail thumps against the ground in response. "Really, I do. You've managed to reach Okhema from Dolos in these trying times by yourself, which is no easy feat even for adults."
"Good because we'd have a serious problem if you didn't." She's pretty spot on with that. Cifera had been forced to actually walk from Dolos to one of its immediate neighbors and that was a miserable experience. Though admittedly that was largely because she had to avoid being hunted down. The seamstress doesn't need to know that part.
"There is no shame in asking for help, you know." Aglaea suddenly says. Her words making the thief's jaw tighten. "The Titans created their kin specifically to aid them. If even they need assistance from time to time, then us mortals shouldn't be expected to accomplish everything by ourselves either."
"I think I'll manage just fine." Cifera sits straighter and adjusts her legs, switching to being more crouched than sitting. Ready to bolt at a moment's notice.
"Really now? Then does that mean you made those clothes yourself?" Yet Aglaea prods further instead of backing off. Challenging the cat-eared thief to argue otherwise.
"Buying things is different from asking for help. That's a fair exchange." A challenge that Cifera can't help but sink her teeth straight into despite knowing she's fighting a losing battle.
"We both know you did not spend a single coin on them. Especially not those gloves." Though her eyes are hazy, Aglaea stares her down with the pin point accuracy of a needle.
"As if you have any way to know that for sure." Cifera brings her gloved hands to her chest. Cradling them together as if trying to hide them from those clouded eyes.
"Just because I am blind doesn't mean that I'm oblivious to what happens around me." Aglaea's shoulders slouch as she releases an annoyed huff. "I have my own ways of perceiving the world."
Okay, now Cifera really feels guilty. If people baby her for still being underage then she can only imagine how frustrating it is to be coddled as an actual adult because of a disability. From what she's observed the seamstress can live just fine despite that. Hell she didn't even notice it until now! Which is pretty damn impressive now that Cifera thinks about it.
"Fine, maybe you're right." That's the only reason Cifera is willing to concede some ground. "But is it so wrong of me to want to be as self-sufficient as possible?"
"Of course not. Some people just need reminders from time to time." This damn seamstress really knows how to talk someone down. Aglaea's tongue might just be a brighter silver than the thief's! "I know a couple that can be frustratingly stubborn about the most benign of things."
"Sounds annoying." Cifera pities her for having to be a couple's third wheel and is eternally grateful she doesn't have to deal with that. "I also don't see why I should go to you specifically if I need help."
"You don't, you may do whatever you wish. All I meant was that if you're ever in need of new clothes, or simply a place to rest, then you are welcome here any time." As Aglaea speaks, the cat that had run away earlier slowly approaches. She reaches out to it, letting it sniff her fingers.
"Depends on what you want in return." Cifera refuses to accept charity. There needs to be balance in this arrangement, an exchange of hands.
"For the clothes payment can suffice, either in the form of coins or doing chores. We can sort out the exact details on a case-by-case basis. As for shelter…" Aglaea scratches the cat's chin when it finishes rubbing her fingers. "Might I ask for your name in exchange?"
"It's Cifera." The thief lets slip her name before she can second guess herself. It's just a name. It's not like she's someone infamous or anything. Yet the paranoid part of her brain balks at this decision.
"Cifera. A lovely name for a lovely young lady." Aglaea smiles and the cat mrrps in protest when she stops scratching it.
She doesn't mean anything by it. Cifera knows she's only saying that to get in her good graces. It's a trick she utilizes quite often while buttering up to women. But saying something like that and actually being on the receiving end of such a compliment are two vastly different experiences. Especially when the person in question saying that is pretty enough to give Mnestia a run for their money.
"Compliments aren't going to sway me, just so you know." Cifera is grateful and even offers a thanks to Zagreus that the seamstress cannot see her darkened cheeks.
"Would you prefer it if I don't offer such compliments? I myself have rather bitter feelings when it comes to others praising my looks." That doesn't really surprise the thief. With how pretty Aglaea is she's no doubt had to deal with assholes that don't know how to take no for an answer.
"It's fine. I don't mind." Cifera ducks her head, the heat within her cheeks spreading all the way to the back of her neck. This damn seamstress really knows how to soften a street cat.
But maybe that isn't such a bad thing. For all of Cifera's inner monologuing about not trusting strangers it's not as if she believes everyone else is evil. It's just hard to know for sure who is actually trustworthy and who is a conniving snake pretending to be nice. Falling prey to the latter of which could mean getting captured so it's simply safer for her to assume that's the case until proven otherwise. Since this seamstress did save her from getting caught, she's willing to give her a chance. Now Cifera just has to pray this decision doesn't backfire on her horribly one day.