THE OUTLAW 𖤓 A. Pendragon {1}

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔

After a few minutes passed and the commotion from earlier seemed to have passed, I silently parted from the group and made for the outer ring of the city.

Thankfully, I had a better sense of direction now than when we first arrived, meaning it took no time at all to find the rundown shack we had made home in the Slums, a small section outside Cheapside.

"Tina," I hissed into our barely-held-together-hut. Without waiting for a response, I slinked into the dimly lit room and quickly pushed back the loose plank that served as our door.

Inside the shed was a small partition that split the room into thirds. On the far side of the room, behind the wall, was where we slept with the pelts we had taken from home. Although the cold still seeped in through the many cracks, the wind from our door didn't quite reach our makeshift bedrolls there. On this side of the room was a cracked barrel that we used as a table, a single candle lit and half melted onto the lid. Our parent's sword and bows were placed in the back left corner were a loose shelf made for a perfect hiding spot. Below that was a small crate filled with empty tins that Tina had collected for us to use as dishes. The few small trinkets we had left from Locksley were hidden away were no one could find them.

It wasn't home. It was necessary.

"Tina, I got sup-"

My words froze with my feet. I wouldn't have thought much of the movement I caught out of the corner of my eye. But I knew better. That wasn't my sister's shadow.

Slowly, I reached toward my right hip where my mother's dagger laid.

"We don't mean any harm."

The dagger was already in my hand as two figures stepped out from the shadowier parts of the room.

Two boys, both a few good inches taller than myself. I couldn't be sure with all the dirt smeared on their faces, but I figured they couldn't be much older than myself. Sixteen- maybe seventeen.

     I noted curiously that despite their faces, their clothes, although worn, had spots with crooked stitches like they had the materials to repair what little they had.

As I thought of my own appearance, I reached a slow hand up toward an ear concealed under my limp hood. I had learned the hard way that people don't take kindly to anyone with Druid links. The last thing I needed was for people to find out I had elven blood as well. Hopefully it looked like I was scratching an itch and not hiding something.

Taking a step forward, the taller boy extended a hand as he spoke. "The names William- or Will if you wish."

The action made me flinch, having encountered a good few beating in the past month. Anxiously, I took in his shaggy blonde hair that brushed past his ears and the light-brown eyes that probably looked copper in the sunlight. The lite candle on our makeshift table reflected off the barest peach fuzz on the boy's chin.

Having caught my reaction, Will begun to pull back. Not wanting to look the coward, I caught his hand and gave it a single mighty shake before letting go.

The blonde boy smiled kindly before pointing to the boy next to him. "This is Cedric, although we call him Ced."

I flicked my gaze from the boy to his friend. This one had long black hair that hung in waves by his chin. His eyes were dark and deep. I didn't know what make of him. He wasn't as broad as the blonde boy, but he looked like he could hold his own in a fight. Not that I wanted to find out.