Jas Cutter's boots clapped against the cobblestones of Valen's bustling marketplace, weaving through the throngs of people with an agility that came from years of navigating the crowded streets. Luka bounced beside him like a sparrow, his eyes wide with the excitement of their secret mission.
"Bet you can't swipe an apple from old Manfred's cart without him noticing," Luka challenged, a mischievous twinkle lighting his eyes.
"Please," Jas scoffed playfully, flipping a lock of shoulder-length blonde hair out of his face. "Manfred's eyes are sharper than a hawk's. But I'll take your bet just to see you do the chicken dance in front of Tovan when you lose."
A hearty chuckle rumbled from behind them as Tovan, more like an uncle than a mere bodyguard, kept a watchful eye on the pair from a respectful distance. His presence was both comforting and slightly smothering to Jas, who yearned for just a smidgeon of freedom.
"Alright, but no magic this time," Luka insisted, knowing full well about Jas's clandestine abilities.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Jas replied, a grin tugging at his lips.
"Remember you're retired," Tovan called up to the two boys, "You promised your father no more stealing."
"I wasn't going to keep it. Just staying in practice," Jas called back.
Their banter was momentarily paused as they passed by a stand draped with vibrant textiles, the air tinged with the scents of exotic spices and fresh pastries where a group of soldiers were shopping. It wasn't long before the chat turned serious again, their voices dropping to a hushed tone as they navigated around a pile of crates.
"War's coming, Jas," Luka said, his youthful face suddenly lined with worry. "I heard my parents talking. The Necromian Kingdom and the Elvish Kingdom...they're really going to do it, aren't they?"
"Seems like it," Jas murmured, his gaze sweeping over the market stalls as if the very shadows hid the impending conflict. "That's why we're leaving with the handcart company. Dad says it's not safe anymore, not even for Necromians like my dad."
"Or humans like us," Luka added softly.
"Exactly," Jas agreed, clapping a reassuring hand on Luka's shoulder. "We'll be okay, though. We've got each other, and our families."
They continued on, their mission leading them to scrutinize various shops for supplies needed for the arduous journey ahead. Barrels of salted meats, wheels of cheese wrapped in cloth, and sacks of grain were all inspected with a critical eye.
"Hey, Jas?" Luka's voice held a hint of hesitation. "What do you think about your dad marrying Alix? She's...well, she's an Elf."
Jas paused, considering the emerald-eyed woman who had entered their lives with a quiet grace. He shrugged noncommittally, though his heart warmed at the thought of her gentle smile.
"She's okay," he admitted, allowing himself a small smile at the memory of her laughter echoing through the halls of the Cutter residence. Alix is...well, Alix. She is nice. And it was fun saving her from the angry mob that day we first met. It's just weird after it being just me and my dad for so long."
YOU ARE READING
Fate's Forge
FantasyIn the vibrant capital city of Valen, the Cutter family - Mathen, Alix, and their adopted son Jas - prepare to lead a caravan of immigrants on a perilous journey east, fleeing the shadow of war. Driven by visions from the mystical Seer's crest, Math...