𝕬𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞 - [𝗞𝗮𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗸𝗸𝗲𝗿]

𝐯𝐢. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 — the sun summoner

━━━━━━━

 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐅 cautious crows and their on-call Heartrender trailed their way down to the basement. Dreesen had been quick to lead them, huffing and puffing as he went; clearly he was still very unhappy with both Kaz — for throwing his own words back at him — and Aleksa — for almost prying the Heartrender from his palm.

 Though there was a distinct twinkle in those dull eyes of his; he knew he had a crew that was very much expendable to send on their merry little way to bring back his prize; and if they didn't? He was certain there was nobody around to miss them.

 The basement was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the home Dreesen lounged within. Droplets of water clambered from the walls, pooling on the slate ground in murky puddles. There were clumps of moss spreading over the dull brick walls like a group of rummaging canal rats.

 But in the very centre of the tasteless room was a person sitting upon a chair. Their wrists and ankles were bound, and from the small sliver of skin that Aleksa could see, the binding was far too tight and was beginning to eat away at the skin.

 Their clothes were slick with dirt, grime and sweat. The baggy button-up that covered their top half had once been white, yet now it was a mixture of yellow and brown. Aleksa's eyes travelled up the body until they reached the neck.

There was an old, woven sack carelessly tossed on the person's head, tightened around the neck by limp and fraying strings.

 Dreesen stood behind them, hands on his hips as he waited a second longer for the Heartrender to finally appear by Aleksa's side, then, when the group were huddled together, his fat fingers plucked the sack from the boy's head.

 He was young, there was no doubt about that, and he couldn't have been any older than Aleksa. His eyes appeared sunken and the stain of purple and black beneath them didn't help. There were premature lines on his forehead that were swiftly obscured by his dirtied, blond curls that stuck to his sweat-slicked forehead.

 There was blood marring his skin, a trail from his eye that crawled down towards his quivering lips; the boy was petrified as he stared at each of them with unseeing eyes. He didn't utter a word.

 "Who's this?" Asked Kaz, fingers curling around the crows head of his cane.

 Dreesen smiled, his oily cheeks lifting higher as he turned his back on the group and the boy shaking in his binds. The merchant retreated towards a table, his hands leisurely pouring amber liquid into a crystal glass. He sipped, "So you don't know everything after all." He stalked towards the boy once more, a heavy hand clamping in his shoulder, "This... is Alexei Stepanov. Two weeks ago, young Alexei here crossed through the Fold on foot. Alone."