Chapter 3

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Four years passed since Corm’s conversation with his mother. In that time, more accusations from Mendes and his brother arose, putting him on uneasy terms with his sibling. However, in the years Cormick has tried to do as his mother asked and kept his nose as clean as he could.

The sixteen year old’s hair has grown long since his youth. A brown ponytail rests down the middle of his back. His bangs hand down just past his eyes and sway back and forth as he walks.  The once-scrawny boy has grown at least a foot since age twelve. His muscles don’t bulge like his brother’s, but there is obvious strength and speed in his limbs. His green eyes dart this way and that, inspecting people as he walks through the cobblestone streets of Stormwind. As the young man walks through the Cathedral District, he tosses a smile and winks at a group of girls that look to be around his age.

Corm takes a moment to look over the group more closely. One girl in particular catches his attention. The girl in question is a cute brunette with a smooth face, her skin is beautifully tanned. The brunette notices Cormick’s gaze and returns his smile. The teenage boy grins and straightens his back. He pops the collar on his leather vest and wipes a hand across his pants before taking several steps toward the girl when suddenly his foot clips the top of a cobblestone block and he stumbles forward. Corm’s hand stretches out in an attempt to grab hold of something to steady himself. His hand grasps onto the girl’s arm and slides down. As he makes contact, the group of girls stops their giggling and the brunette shrieks while yanking her arm away from Corm.

The boy face-plants into the cobblestone street and groans. The hand that had held the girl’s arm is crumpled up underneath his body. The girl and her friends stare at Corm’s body, as if attempting to determine whether or not the fall killed the boy, knocked him out, or just injured him. As Cormick begins to push himself up, he keeps the crumpled hand close to his body, as if it was broken. The girl and her friend’s break out into laughter, now that their question has been answered.

A blonde in the group stops her laughter long enough to make a comment to the boy, “Smooth move, noble-boy. To busy swimming in your parent’s wealth to even learn how to walk?” Her joke causes the group to laugh even harder.

Cormick, red-faced and embarrassed, turns around and swiftly walks away from the group of giggling girls, his head down in shame. He looks over his shoulder as he turns a corner and goes out-of-sight of the group. Corm throws his head back in laughter and pulls his hand away from his chest. He begins walking along the city canals, twirling his finger in a tight circle. Hanging from his index finger is what appears to be a golden bracelet.

“I might’ve given it back,” Cormick begins, “if she wasn’t such a bitch and tried to help me up. Oh well, they get a laugh from my genius acting, and I get a laugh out of their stupidity. Not to mention a little bonus from this bracelet. Idiot didn’t even notice I swiped it right off her wrist as I fell.”

Cormick stops his walking and ducks into a nearby alleyway. He brings the bracelet up to eye level and inspects  more closely, “I wonder how much I can sell it for; Probably only a few gold, it looks tarnished.”

Suddenly, a beefy hand grips Corm’s shoulder and turns spins him around. At the same time, a fist flies through the air and makes contact with Cormick’s jaw. Unprepared, Corm is thrown off balance by the blow and drops to the ground. His grip on the bracelet fails and he drops the piece of jewelry.

Blurry eyed from the unexpected pain, Cormick squints to try and make out his assailant. Corm sees the figure bend down to try and pick up the bracelet and flails his legs wildly to protect his prize. As his vision slowly returns, Corm notices his attacker is huge compared to himself.

Fight or flight? Cormick thinks to himself. Flight! The teenage boy tries to desperately to crawl away from the man, but his foot gets caught on something.

“Oh no you don’t, pretty boy! Get back here!” The assailant calls out as he rips the thief toward him. The man grabs hold of Cormick’s vest and yanks him upwards to eye level. He spits in the noble’s face, “I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a pathetic prick like you! Steal from a lady, and then try to run when you get caught? Have a little backbone, noble-boy!” The man throws Corm up against the alley wall and throws a tightly clenched fist toward the boy’s stomach.

Cormick sucks in hard, gasping for air. He calls out to his attacker, begging for his life, “Please! No, let me go! I promise I’ll return the bracelet to that pretty little brunette. I wouldn’t have taken it if she stopped her laughing and helped me up!”

The man laughs at Corm, “Why? So you could go off and pick some other unsuspecting girl’s pocket or purse?” The man turns his head to the alley entrance and calls out, “Molly, come over here and get your bracelet. And be more careful! I may not be here next time to rough up the next scumbag that steals something of yours.”

The girl known as Molly makes her way down the alley way and to her bracelet. She bends down to pick up the piece of jewelry and calmly puts it back on her wrist. As she stands up, she looks at Corm and winks. She turns away with a sly smirk on her face.

The man watches Molly as she walks out of the alley with her group of friends before turning to Cormick, “Watch yourself, noble-boy. I should have you thrown into the Stockades for this, but I think you’ve learned your lesson. If I hear anything about you stealing from my daughter, or any of her friends again, I’ll break that sticky hand of yours.” He shoves Cormick into the wall once more before following his daughter out.

Corm’s legs buckle as he hits the stone wall and he slumps to the ground. He dips his head down and his vision becomes blurry. Cormick slaps himself to try and stay awake, but to no avail. He tries to push himself off the ground, but again fails. Corm resigns to sitting in the alley with his head dipped down into his chest, waiting for unconsciousness to take him.

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