By the Sword

02 | You Break, You Pay

PRESENT DAY

The sun was barely dominating over the cerulean, cloudless horizon, but the marketplace in the capital was already bustling with various activities. 

Merchants flaunted open their tents, offering their fresh products with affordable—or as they often claimed—prices at passersby on top of their lungs. Nobles meticulously observed each and every detail of items they were willing to throw their money at. The groans and arguments of customers as they tried haggling with shopkeepers filled in the atmosphere. Screams of scurrying children were also not uncommon, their little legs propelled them through the sea of crowd, playing tag of some sort. 

Just another mundane day, with people living their different lives to the fullest. 

Nothing so extraordinary. 

"BANDITS! THERE ARE BANDITS!"

"Call the knights, quickly!!!"

"They just robbed our shop!!!"

Okay, maybe not so mundane today. 

Shouts of prices morphed into screams of desperation as people all scrambled all of their valuables within their arms reach. Fathers and mothers quickly embraced their children as they blended in within all the commotion. Others frantically darted all over the place, nearly bumping against each other while not knowing where those thieves were.

Well, the commoners were the least of their interests so not that they were chasing after them, but their starving eyes ogled the nobles—specifically their possessions, as priceless as the Ezèrian gold. Come to think of it, their uneven teeth as they grinned like they were some demons shared the same color. Why do all crooks look like that? 

At least if they wanted to display their raids ostentatiously, they should trim their hairy beards and brush their unkempt oily hair!

"Stay back!" cried one of the trembling nobles, brandishing a dagger from his scabbard, its sharp blade pointing towards the bandit's leader. Alas for him, the bandit's grin never faded, in fact he burst out guffawing, his chest heaving up and down as he mockingly raised both of his arms up. 

"Do you think a mere flimsy weapon would scare us?" The bandit jeered and clapped his hands. "Got to give you credit though, for being such a brave little man." 

"I... I'm a Curse Creator!" The noble proclaimed, his voice was rather shaky, his other arm protecting his goods. "Take one step closer and I'll place a curse you'll never be able to cure!" 

"Oh, frightening. How have you been practicing your powerful Curse possession?" 

The noble swallowed his breath as his dagger quavered, to which the bandit loudly scoffed. 

"Renèi Possessors always act like they're so tough and mock everyone else, but they could not even handle controlling their own gifts. Some even transferred them away," said the bandit as he laughed. "That's why those Ezerians were able to infiltrate and wipe you all out back then."

He paid no heed to such a derogatory comment which had the bystanders gasping and bursting into deafening whispers. Surely that bandit leader might have some clever retorts, but his pride was far up his rear that he was completely, utterly oblivious of the two moving figures compelling their way through the crowd.

Understandable, I guess it's safe for them to wait for the knights. 

"These are my mother's, I'll preserve them with all of my life, I would rather die than leave them in your befouled hands."