A Basic Story

Panic overwhelmed me as I frantically patted my belt, my pants, and my shirt. I kicked off my shoes and shook them, dropped to the ground, and let my hands fly through the grass. But no matter how long I searched, my father's coin pouch refused to reappear.

Stolen! The realization finally hit me. It has to be Sebastian or one of his friends!

Looking back, it was so obvious. Four boys sitting on a merchant's wagon, seemingly without any purpose. Crosseyes, who took over twenty minutes to conclude that there was neither honey nor coriander, even though the merchant claimed the boys were familiar with his stock. Sebastian, who had randomly challenged me to a game — and me, too distracted by his tricks to notice one of the others slipping my pouch away.

At first, I was shocked. Fear gripped me as I imagined what my father might do. Cruel images flooded my mind, and for the first time in years, the Rider returned to haunt my thoughts, making my poisoned heart pound.

Then I grew angry. Blazing, seething anger that almost made me tear the Magic card in half... the one I'd stolen, too.

The thought came suddenly. That's right. I had stolen from him, too. He seemed to like those cards — even called them valuable. And as quickly as my rage came, it dissipated.

I started laughing. I laughed so hard my stomach ached and my jaw cramped. Damn, that brief encounter had been the most fun I'd had in years.

I was still standing outside the house, my fear and fury completely swept away by the sheer absurdity of the situation, when I heard footsteps approaching the front door.

But I didn't freeze in fear. No, I laughed loudly as I ran from my father. Somehow, I knew I would find Sebastian at the village square again, even though the merchant was undoubtedly drunk at the tavern by now.

And there he was. Standing alone in the moonlight, his curly blond hair tied back, his arms crossed, and an incomplete deck of cards in hand. He might have looked eerie if you forgot he was just a child, like me.

He turned as he heard my footsteps. The grin was still plastered on my face, but Sebastian looked anything but amused by our mutual theft.

"You have something that belongs to me," he said. From the shadows, three other boys stepped forward. His friends had surrounded me. For a moment, I hesitated. Had it been a bad idea to come here?

But then I shook the thought away. No beating from these boys could be worse than the one-sided massacre my father would deliver. I needed that coin pouch.

And I wanted to laugh some more.

"So do you," I replied. "How did you do it?"

The three boys shuffled nervously, glancing at Sebastian for direction. Crosseyes, in particular, looked ready to wet himself, despite outnumbering me and being larger than I was.

Finally, Sebastian nodded. He pulled my coin pouch from his pocket and held it up to my face. "Ninefingers, the little one there, took it from you while we played — but on my orders."

I tilted my head to get a better look at the thief called Ninefingers. He was the smallest of the four boys, shorter than me, but he had the most defiant expression.

"And you?" Sebastian asked. "When did you—"

"I learned it from you," I interrupted, eager to prove myself in front of these strange boys. "You always pulled a card from your sleeve when you needed it. The deck never had all the Thirteen to begin with."

"You thief!" Ninefingers shouted suddenly, pointing his remaining index finger at me.

"You stole first!" I shot back.

"Give my big brother his card back!"

"Not until I get my pouch!"

I was taken aback. So far, I'd only spoken to Sebastian, and at least he was reasonable. Ninefingers, though, had the fingers of a spider but the temperament of an angry ox.

He made a face. I made a face. He stuck out his tongue, so I grabbed the Magic card, slipped it into my underpants, and gave my family jewels a little shake.

Then, pulling the card back out, I waved it in the air again.

Ninefingers' eyes widened in shock, and he turned to his older brother, clearly afraid Sebastian might explode with anger. But Sebastian just looked confused, though slightly amused.

I grinned triumphantly. I had won our duel — the verbal one, at least.

Ninefingers must have seen a rival in me, another younger boy than the rest, because the next moment, he let out a childish war cry and lunged at me.

I was completely caught off guard. I hadn't had many friends... well, actually none so far, and certainly no enemies to brawl with. When Ninefingers' shoulder rammed into my stomach, I didn't even know what was happening.

Only when we were on the ground, hissing and scratching, did my anger kick the surprise out of my system. We wrestled in the hard-packed dirt of the village square.

I was bigger than Ninefingers, but he fought like a wildcat, clawing and even biting me. I grabbed his hair and shoved his face into the dirt.

The other three watched. It was an unspoken code of the Innocent Thieves: never interfere in a fight unless someone's life was in danger. Otherwise, it was the responsibility of the one who started it.

Ninefingers nearly gouged out my eye. "Argh!" I swore, slamming my forehead against his. He recoiled, visibly stunned.

After what felt like an hour, but in truth was probably nothing more than thirty seconds, the fight had spiraled out of control. My wrist bled from where Ninefingers had bitten me, and his right eye was already swollen.

But neither of us cared. Not until a hand grabbed my shirt collar and yanked me backward, throwing me aside. The same happened to Ninefingers.

"Alright, that's enough," said the merchant with the crooked nose. I looked up, startled. I hadn't even noticed him arrive. Neither had Ninefingers, though he seemed less surprised by the man's presence.

"He stole from us!" Ninefingers accused immediately.

Oh yeah. I did.

I had completely forgotten why we were fighting in the first place. The merchant smirked and chuckled. "Is that so? Sebastian, don't you have something to say to him?"

Sebastian approached me. He glanced at Ninefingers, then at me with a hint of irritation. "You hurt my little brother... but he hurt you too, I guess. And since I'm the oldest of the group I... Agh, forget it, here's your pouch."

He tossed it at my feet.

I grabbed it and counted the coins. Then I spat out a bit of blood, stood up, and reluctantly held out the card. "Your stupid card," I wanted to say angrily, but somehow I couldn't help but smirk a little.

Sebastian frowned. "You thought this was funny?" he asked, taking the card back.

"I don't know," I admitted honestly. "But it was more exciting than usual."

Sebastian looked confused but said nothing. The merchant had been watching us the entire time. When it seemed we had buried the hatchet, he nodded in satisfaction.

"Boys your age should fight once in a while," he said. "But that doesn't make you enemies. In truth, no one really has enemies, you know? I remember once—"

"Oh, not another one of your stories, old man!" Sebastian groaned, rolling his eyes.

A shame, I thought. I would have liked to hear the story.

The merchant and Sebastian exchanged a brief glance before the merchant raised his hands innocently. "Alright, alright," he relented. Then he looked at me, specifically at the blood dripping down my hand. "Let me see that, boy."

He knelt and reached for my hand. I was about to give it to him when my father's face flashed through my mind. I pulled my hand protectively back.

"It's alright, young warrior," the merchant assured me with a smile. "Not everyone wants to hurt you. Look at this."

He pulled a small container from his coat. As he opened it, he explained, "This is an all-healing salve. Very, very rare. It will heal the wound in no time."

He took a bit of the salve on his finger and looked at me expectantly. "Interested?"

I hesitated. An all-healing salve. That had to be outrageously expensive! But somehow, I didn't have the strength to think about such things anymore. Consequences that didn't involve the rage of their parents were a foreign concept to a child, or at least, to me.

I extended my aching hand, and the merchant took it gently. He spread the salve over the bite wound. And then, the pain was gone. The blood was still there, but the wound itself was gone.

Closed. Vanished.

My eyes widened. "That's magic!" I exclaimed.

The merchant laughed. "No. That's the salve." He stood again. "We'll be staying in the village until the end of the week. Stop by the inn if you're hungry. I'll treat you to a warm bowl of soup."

He patted me on the head, then went over to Ninefingers. He applied some salve to the boy's swollen eye as well. I watched, mesmerized by the miracle the strange man had performed.

"You've got good fingers," Sebastian said suddenly, standing next to me. He looked at the Magic card in his hand and made a face before wiping it on his shirt.

"Fortunate kids usually don't have good fingers."

I didn't understand what he meant back then. My fingers were as trained as could be — slipping some food from the pantry was a risky task, after all, considering the consequences.

But he continued. "You're like us, I think. Only we have each other." Then he slipped the card into his pocket.

I tilted my head, trying to think about what he was telling me. I didn't get it.

Then, out of pure curiosity, I asked him, "How much is the card worth, anyway?"

Sebastian thought for a moment.

"I'd say three or four copper coins."