Deloxios

Marco_1

1

Marco stepped upon the wet shingles of the rooftop, whispering to them to not let him fall. It always rained this time of the year, and with it painting the streets, cobblestones shone black under the feeble light of the moon. It made the city seem like it was fit for the Grim Reaper. Fit for someone like Marco, perhaps. A wisp of a boy always in a black coat, with dark eyes and hair, wielding fantastical, dangerous power no one would suspect him of having. An outcast in a world of normal, average people.

He hastened his steps toward the orphanage. As favored as he was by Ubric, the other members of the gang would not welcome the fact that he had come back after curfew for the third time that week.

The orphanage was grand, built up from money stolen as well as coaxed from poor and rich alike. There was no favoritism in stealing, here. Money was money, no matter its owner.

Taking a deep breath, he walked into Ubric's office, a smile he did not feel fixed on his face.

The burly, pinstripe-clad leader of the gang greeted him with a smirk. "Oh, there you are, dear boy. Back in time, today, I gather?"

"Of course, sir. It wasn't like I could be away from my dear home much longer." He winked, feeling more like gagging as each second passed.

Ubric, looking pleased, leaned forward against his desk. "So, what did you bring home for your darling family today? Anything...exquisite, perhaps?"

Marco set down the stolen golden timepiece with a distinct emblem marking its source of one of the wealthiest noble families in the city. "Family heirloom. Managed to coax it off the bloke in that fancy cafe' right by the square. It's been passed down since his great-great-grandfather, apparently."

The foolish noble had been quite willing to boast about of the petty histories and value of the timepiece to him, a complete stranger, and, despite the fact that it was something quite precious to the man's family, it had taken ridiculously few words ("give it to me") before Marco could slip the timepiece into his pocket.

Ubric peered at it carefully, eyeglasses in hand, before grinning. "Perfect. The emblem needs to go, of course. Can't have anyone suspecting anything, right? But other than that, absolutely delicate crafting, and these gems? They're unblemished. It's top-quality, every single part of it. "

"Then, sir, I want my information. About the stranger in town. The one always with that black hat on."

"Oh, about that. Yes, well, I guess you deserve it, with the pretty penny you brought me today. My informants tell me that the man--"

"The man? Did any of your informants see their face?"

"No, but, well, that's of no importance whatsoever. Anyway, he seems to appear frequently at the bar by Saint Elise. You know Dear Elise, right??"

Marco nods in response. Almost everyone, if they worked for the illicit business in town, knew of the bar that was the hideout of many criminals, and was known to be one of the best sources of gossip and information with untrustworthy sources.

"I wonder if he's looking for somebody here." Marco's heart beat a little harder. Maybe they, whoever they were, were looking for him?

Really, he couldn't explain why the stranger intrigued him. Maybe it was something about the general atmosphere around them that, in some way, seemed similar to Marco's. Maybe it was some foolish, naive hope that perhaps, the stranger would be someone like him. Someone with the same ability as him. Something tugged in the depths of his heart: he was lonely.

"Very mysterious, eh? Why d'you want information about him, anyway? Is he someone you know, boy?" Raising an eyebrow, Ubric gazed up at the boy on the other side of his desk.

Marco shook his head, smiling again for Ubric's benefit.

Ubric examined the stolen timepiece once more, and wet his lips with some wine. "It's wondrous how you take these things, sometimes, you know? I bet all of the boys stay up at night wondering how you do this."

The boy forced a smile. "Thank you for your compliments, sir. I appreciate it. But I'd never reveal my trading secrets to anyone." If they knew, then they would either try to take advantage of it or try to burn him on a stake for witchcraft, he thought. Neither was preferable, really. 

He pressed down on his temples, trying to quell the headache that had settled there.

Ubric jeered up at Marco."Don't be like that, Marco. Couldn't you just tell me--"

Marco cut him off. "We'll never discuss this matter again, you understand?" Magic seeped into his words, sensing its master's anxiety at the man's demands.

Ubric blinked, dazed, then nodded. "Well then, boy. You may as well go out now. Just keep up your contributions. I--we--value them very much."

Marco, with a smile plastered to his face again, bowed quickly and made his way out of the room. He swayed slightly. Perhaps he had been too rash with using his abilities. Heaving a sigh, he rubbed a hand over his eyes. He needed some sleep.