ARISTOS ACHAION // Awesamdude X Reader

1

The price of an apple had changed over the years. Though things of that fickle nature were bound to, considering the circumstances.

When you were small, apples had cost almost nothing - or at least, it had seemed like it, to your childish brain. Hell, you remembered times when the farmer would give you apples for nothing, simply because you were small. He had smiled when your little hands had barely wrapped around the fruit in its entirety, and your mother had thanked him before shuffling you along, more interested in refilling the olive oil jar from the vendor down the road than wasting her pennies on fruit. Apples were nothing, back then.

But you had grown, and so had the world. Back then, the streets had seemed so much wider, not crowded with beggars as they were now. There was no true escape from the crowd, not when families were turned out onto the streets every day, not being able to afford a roof over their heads. The flow of traffic had been restricted to only main roads, as alleyways had become makeshift communities. It seemed the majority of the city had fallen into poverty in a few short years.

Some blamed it on the gods, turning away from the temples built at the center of the city. Some blamed in on the Caesar - Caesarion Vesapasian II - saying he was spending the Politon Theon's wealth on himself instead of it's citizens. Scholars pointed to economic failure, saying the city's exports were no longer as valuable as they had once been, and that after every age of prosperity came a fall from the heights. The cause didn't matter too much in your mind - you had other things to worry about.

Namely, finding your next meal.

As a member of the unfortunate majority that had fallen on hard times, you had learned pretty fast that if you didn't look out for yourself, no one would. Between scrounging up food, finding safe drinking water, scouting out places to sleep, your days were full. Not to mention that you were also trying to sign on as an apprentice and get a job - not that anyone was really hiring during a time like this. Artisans and farmers were more interested in pinching their pennies than spending them on extra hands.

Especially not thieving hands like yours.

The agora was a frequent haunt of yours - the place was always packed with people (those who still were able to, shopping the stalls, and those who weren't begging for anything they had to spare) and most thieves left it alone for fear of the guards stationed between each of the pillars surrounding the area. The agora was a relic leftover from better times, built when mosaic floors were par for the course, and the city's prosperity shone through in the public spaces.

You sat on one of the many stone benches scattered around the tiled ground, watching as people darted across a mosaic piece of Anoitos and Sofos, golden and silver twin gods of rebirth and destruction. It had been one of your favorite pieces here since you had first seen it all those years ago. When you had been small, you hadn't been able to look the installation in the eye.

Now, those emerald stones inlaid as pupils bore witness to most of your crimes.

Sure, the agora was full of guards, but you had years of practice now, and there was a basket of apples just to your left.

All you had to do now was wait for the proper moment.

It came along in the form of three ratty children tearing through the center of the market knocking over any wares that were in their way - a game of tag gone rouge, no doubt. Either way, the ruckus was just what you needed - you watched as the collective guards attention turned to the kids, and you shifted closer to the basket of apples at your side.

Quickly, you snapped your wrist out, grabbing one of the apples from the top of the stack. It was a practiced movement, precise, you had done this same thing possibly hundreds of times before. In the same moment, you turned, starting away from the basket. Getting away was the most important part of the heist-

A hand closed around your wrist, yanking you backwards and pulling the apple out of your hand. Your nails dug into the flesh of the fruit as your captor ripped it away, sending the now mutilated apple to the ground. The apple landed in the palm of mosaic Sofos' hand, a mess of sweet fruit, wasted.

You glanced back, following the hand that was wrapped around your wrist back up to the man that it was attached to. It seemed that not all of the guards attention had been drawn to the children like you had assumed.

The guard wrenched your wrist behind your back. "Thievery is against the law-"

At his words, panic flooded your system and you began to struggle, arching your back to try and get some leverage to fight back. You needed to get away - you were not about to lose everything because of an apple. Twisting your free hand behind you, you grabbed at the guard's belt, trying to pull his broadsword from its scabbard, but he slapped your hand out of the way, pulling the sword himself and bringing the blade up to your neck. The struggle stopped at the feeling of cold metal on your neck.

Your heart was working overtime in your chest, both from adrenaline and fear. The fight was useless. You were fighting on an empty stomach, and the guards were trained after all.

The price of an apple. When you were small, and the city wasn't falling apart, it had cost almost nothing. Now that you were grown, and the city had fallen into a state of depression, an simple apple, now smeared on the ground, was about to cost you everything.