For All Those Sleeping [Editing]

Reunited

Chapitre V

"House of twice? Dieu Fallon, you really got me this time. You must take your anger out on me."

Every other time I went to get my fortune read, the girl decided to really stump me. Whenever that came around, I'd sit in the same saules outside the gates of Avenir and mumble incoherently to myself until I by chance crack her twisted code. I've visited every town I've lived in at least twice, so it's not the quantity. If Sierra was in Rois, she'd be with her mother, and you'd think she'd know how to read signs so she wouldn't end up in Voleur.

On the bright side, this did mean that Sierra was alive and in a town where she'd be able to get food. There was a feeling in my gut that I was close to my real mission, so looking for an old friend would be a good way to buy time. Wherever she was, I wouldn't find Sierra by moping in a tree, so I stood up and looked for the best way down. The branches descended in a spiral like a twisting staircase, leading me to believe that it would be pretty straightforward getting down (because, yes, I occasionally have some rough landings). A fly excitedly whispered to me right before I could put both feet on the second lowest branch, which made me lose my balance as I swatted it away. I chuckled at myself for being so scared of falling off; I wasn’t even that high in the tree. When I stepped down to the next branch, though, I felt the bark scrape against the bottom of my shoe and ultimately end up slamming into my gut as I fell face-forward.

“Merde,” I groaned after I landed on the forest floor. “This is why Thieves shouldn’t climb maudit trees! How do the Flèchées balance on those for their whole life?”

The Flèchées, or Archers who inhabit Flèche, are taught from a young age how to climb trees and hunt from there. Either it’s in their genetics or they have really good teachers because it’s amazing to see them in their natural habitat. The major thought is if you’re able to do something on the ground, you’re supposed to be able to do it in the air. The Flèchées were the ones who taught me how to climb, actually. I wasn’t as nimble as the other kids, but I got the hang of -

“I really am an idiot sometimes.”

Flèche came before Voleur, making it my second home. Thankfully, a horse-drawn wagon was emerging through the gates of Avenir, so I jumped in the very back where there was room for extra trunks to be tied down. Hitchhiking wasn’t against any rules or anything, but no Thief in his right mind would ask for a ride. All I had to do was hope that it wouldn’t stop before reaching Flèche.

On the night of my thirteenth birthday, there was a man who found me. He was concerned about a young kid in the forest all alone, but I personally thought I was fine. I could see just fine, and he was outside wandering in the forest too, was he not? When I refused to tell him where I lived, he took me to Flèche to his wife, Korinna, and his son, Alec. They couldn’t have predicted it if they wanted to, but I would call their home mine for two years.

The man (he was rarely home, so I couldn’t tell you his name) and Korinna enrolled my in the school, but it didn’t go so great. I was a Noble with odd colored hair in a town run by Archers. The only true amis I found there were Alec and his ami Jace. The main reason I was able to bond with Jace was because his hair was a weird orange color that the other young Flèchées whispered about. There was a group of kids who harassed us day in and day out, which persuaded us to hide in trees all day long. They were probably the reason why people thought I left, but I can almost assure that’s false.

The best and worst part of the Flèche gate is the graffiti. There are some pictures of bows and arrows drawn in green paint and some phrases written by snickering teenagers like “Attention: Vous Entrez Maintenant Dans L’Enfer” or “Archers Sommes Le Meilleur!”. They thought they were so cool because they wrote in an ancient language that no one knows anymore. Anyway, I spotted the lousy excuse of vandalism as the wagon passed it, so I whispered and inaudible thank-you for the ride and hopped off. My feet crunched along the dry, worn path to the main section of the town - small puffs of hazy dirt crocheted the bottom of my cloak as I dragged it limply into a bush. The path divided into the residential and business sides of the town, and I recalled living at the second house on the right - House 24. When my knuckles rapped on the wood, there wasn’t a speedy reply, but shuffling was heard from inside.