Dancing with Fists

1. The Fifth ring

April the 6th
Year 2042 

They were running.

She wasn't entire sure what they were running from, but her brother came out of nowhere, grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. They both stumbled a bit, but soon they were sprinting across alleys and behind the houses, staying clear of the main road. By her brother's flustered, excited face, she quickly guessed that they were running from the fourth ring guards. He loved the thrill of escaping. That was probably the biggest difference between them; he lived for the escape and she for the fight.

While there's no real crime to enter the different rings, it was different for them from the fifth ring. Being the outer ring, they held the bigger part of the population, and thus the poorer part. Just going from the fifth to fourth ring meant an enormous increase in the quality of the goods being sold, the houses built and the lives lived. Not to mention it being less dangerous, as majority of the low-life crime happened in the fifth ring. As such, fifth ringers were seen as less human, being of lesser value, and even sometimes dangerous and filthy. Most fifth ringers are dangerous and filthy. And hungry. The lack of food for such a big population led to starvation for many, and it was common that children only survived if they relied on theft. Therefore, when a fifth ringer enters another ring, they're almost instantly thrown back into outer ring. It was the common way.

Turning a sharp corner around a house, getting closer and closer to the breach between the fourth and outer ring, she collided with a soldier. The force sent her back, losing her grip on her brother, and caused the soldier to stumble back. The soldier's dark eyes focused on her with a grim expression on his face, and as he made a movement to grab her for daring to intervene with his path, her brother collided into his side.

"Ek, run!" he shouted, and she scrambled quickly up to her feet and dashed away immediately. Soon, the echo of her brother's footsteps could be heard behind her. She wasn't stupid enough to pick a fight with a city soldier. Taking turns in alleys and between houses, over a couple low stonewalls that indicated the lines between property, they slowly started to lose the soldier on their heels. Eventually they wound up at the breach between the two rings. Lifting up the wooden planks that covered the hole, her brother went through first and she climbed quickly after, arranging the planks the same way. Once back in the fifth ring, they met each others gazes and burst out in laughter. Well, wheezing out air in periods sounding a bit like "huff huff" is a bit more accurate. Her brother swung his arm over her shoulder, and they started the walk back home to their mother.

Their house was nothing impressive. Nothing in the fifth ring was impressive. Everything was dirty, filled with holes and on the brink of falling apart. Their house was not an exception. It fit perfectly in the row after row with houses gone beyond repair. Originally, they all must've been made of some sort of stone. Her brother had guessed on concrete, which she assumed is a bit like stone. Or it's completely stone. She's not very familiar with how one would classify concrete. Time, poverty, and war, had worn it down a lot. Wood was an easy material to get by, and the holes and windows were covered by a nifty mix of wood, clay and fabric. You had to be resourceful in order to survive in the outer ring, no doubt. 

Some of the houses in their area weren't as patched up as theirs. The family three houses down have a big hole in the roof after it collapsed during a period of harsh weather. Their youngest kid died from hypothermia last winter. They don't talk about things like that. When a young life gets extinguished because of the awful conditions they're all forced to live in, all because of the Gulfjuns, they stay quiet. They walk their dirty streets and glance briefly at each other, the same thoughts swirling in their minds but never passing their lips. In a way, her and Kal were blessed.

It was a house full of insects, dirt, broken furniture but also love. The three of them was all they needed. Ek and her twin brother's father fought in the last rebellion ten years ago, four years after he fathered them. Even though they've been under the Gulfjun's ruling for almost 50 years, Ek would like to believe that humans were made rebellious, that they as a specie wouldn't accept terrible conditions and would keep fighting for their own sake. Soft winds carried the whispers of a time before the Gulfjun and fuelled their anger. The last rebellion wasn't even close to as successful as any other previous rebellion. It rose and got squashed in less than a month, like a bug. Taking Ek's father with it.

Needlessly to say, they don't remember much of him, and they have managed fine with only Ma. Ek knows her brother long after their father, just as her, but they never voice those yearnings. They knew they were lucky to have their mother, to even be alive. Many children, especially twins, die in childbirth or, like most other children, succumb to the countless amount of diseases travelling the fifth ring. The unclean environment and denourishment leaves the tiny babies without a proper immune system to defend themselves. They've both survived 14 years, and every time they hear the news of another kid in the fifth ring dying, the twins silently vow to keep surviving. Together.

"Ek, Kal, where have you been?! I've been so worried. I swear to the lord, if you went to the fourth again I'm going to throw you outside the ring!" Their mothers loud voice rang from the second they stepped a foot into the house. Ek met her brother's eyes and grinned slightly. It was the same thing every single time they disappeared to the fourth ring for a longer time, ever since the first time they discovered the breach four years ago. They had gotten used to it.

"Don't worry Ma, the soldiers didn't stand a chance catching us, as usual. You need not worry." Kal's confident voice rung out, as their mother came into vision. She was a thin woman, with lines etched into her face permanently. Ek frequently wondered how many lines are from worry for her rebellious kids. She had her auburn hair in the usual fifth ring fashion; braided and pulled up in a bun. It could hold for days and the style promised to keep out dirt from the hair. For the most part.

"Kal, I will always worry for my two little babies" she exclaimed as she moved forward and embraced both of them in a tight hug. Accidentally, it caused Ek's and Kal's heads to bump together and they both let out a sound of displeasure. Ma chuckled and let them go.

"I know you don't like us stealing, but I got you some of your favourite bread from the fourth ring. The baker was from the third, and won't miss it much." Ek said, as she pulled out a piece of bread, covered in seeds and weird spices that never graced the streets of fifth. She handed it to her mother, who only pretended to be stern and disappointed for a few seconds before she accepted it. Her hand grazed Ek's rough cheek in a thanking gesture. She knew her mother wouldn't eat it herself, but that she appreciated that they thought of her. It is the thought that counts, after all.