Without a King (Greatest Thief 1, mxm)

Bonus - The Reasons to Steal - Neglect

Eight years before Without a King

It wasn't the first time his uncle had come home drunk.

Baisan did his best to pull together some sort of meal and leave it out where his uncle would see it, before retreating to his own small bedroom. There he could eat in peace, while his uncle stumbled around the main room of the house. Baisan could hear him muttering to himself as he found the food and started to eat.

It wasn't the first time his uncle had come home drunk, but it was a relatively new habit. He had been living with his uncle for four years, ever since his mother died. While it had never been a great arrangement, it hadn't been bad, either. His uncle didn't make much money, but Baisan's father was a sailor and forwarded most of his salary to his brother to help support them. So in turn, Baisan's uncle had done his best to raise him properly, and teach him everything he needed to know to one day follow his footsteps working in the port.

Baisan would have rather followed his father's footsteps and worked on a ship, it paid more. But the port would be a good place to start, so Baisan had learned his numbers and math and knew how to handle money. He was pretty good at it.

So he noticed when his uncle's drinking corresponded with less money, but he didn't know how to confront his uncle about it. Instead for weeks he tried to help prepare some sort of meal before getting out of his uncle's way. It was easier that way.

But it was getting worse, day by day, and he wasn't sure how much longer they could go on this way.

He was deep in thought, contemplating all of that, when he heard a crash from the main room. In an instant he was on his feet and ran out into the room to see that his uncle was lying on the floor. Baisan knelt by his side.

"Are you hurt?"

His uncle tried to push him away. "No." He groaned as he sat up. "'s fine. Go away."

"Let me help you."

"Go away," his uncle snarled, giving Baisan another shove. Baisan backed away while his uncle slowly managed to get to his feet, and leaned heavily against the table, with his head in his hands.

Baisan tentatively moved closer. "Is something wrong?"

"Go. Away."

Baisan didn't know why, but he was suddenly gripped with icy fear. "What's wrong?" he asked, a new tremor in his voice. "Uncle?"

"Your father's dead," his uncle snarled, suddenly turning around. "He's been dead for months! So his money is gone! And I can't take care of you without money! My brother trusted me and I can't do it! Go away!"

Baisan didn't know what to say. His vision blurred with tears and he ran back to his room.

His uncle apologized gruffly the next morning, before heading off to the port. And for a few months, they made it work. Baisan still felt sad whenever he thought of his father, but he had never really known the man, so it was easy to push the feelings aside and make it work.

At first, Baisan would take the little amount of money his uncle made to the main street and try to bargain and haggle and stretch the money as far as he possible could. But even though he was pretty good at it, it never really resulted in enough food.

One day, after spending what little money he had, Baisan couldn't help himself. When the merchant's back was turned towards a different customer, he grabbed an extra piece of bread. Then, in a panic, he ran down the road before he was caught. He was nervous the rest of the day, even once he had gotten back home. Every shadow or noise could have been the merchant coming to get him. He had a terrible time getting to sleep that night.

But nothing happened, and he got away with it. So the next day, he mustered his courage and tried it again.

It worked. Again.

Baisan kept using his uncle's money to buy food, but gave most of it to his uncle. For himself, he stole. It was always a little scary, and also a little exciting. He never took anything big. Just extra bits of bread or a piece of fruit here and there. Once, when he was feeling particularly brave, a new tunic.

Eventually, Baisan realized that he didn't need his uncle. The man never paid attention to him anymore, anyway. He was almost always drunk, he never checked in to make sure Baisan was getting enough food, he never tried to teach Baisan new things. So one day, Baisan simply didn't go back home. He knew he could make it on his own, and one day when he was older he would go get a job in the port.

Not having a place to go back to was harder than he had thought it would be, but he was determined. After about a week of wandering more or less aimlessly around the city, sleeping in a different corner or nook every night, he eventually found a place he liked.

It was a staircase to an unused cellar. He tried picking the lock, but when that failed, realized he could make a home in the staircase anyway. He draped a blanket across the top and pinned the sides down with rocks. It was fairly clean, and the space at the bottom of the stairs was large enough for him to comfortably lie down.

With a place to call home, he became more confident in his plan. He stole a couple more blankets to make the inside of his home comfier, and continued stealing food. After some time, he started trying to steal money instead. Sometimes from the market stalls, sometimes form people's pockets.

Pickpocketing was a challenge, but he knew he needed to start collecting money. He got caught fairly often at first, but mastered the act of dissolving into sobs so that his captor would have some pity on him. He got hurt a couple times, but usually his captor would feel bad and let him go. Sometimes they would even give him a few siyas. And eventually, he stopped getting caught.

His little home became more and more comfortable. He replaced the blanket roof with planks of wood, and draped the inside with even more blankets, and even an old cushion. He kept all of his money in a little pouch that he slipped under the cellar door so it was hidden, but he could pull it out with a bit of string. He never ate as much as he would have liked, but he ate enough to survive. Every day, he got a little braver, and a little more confident, and a little more skilled.

And he decided that if he kept getting better, he wouldn't need to ever get a job in the port. He could just fend for himself like this, forever.