WitchHunter ✔️

The PickPocket

Hale: May 28th, 759 Post Reckoning

Its been over a year since the Cleansing, since the terror attack that took my parents away, that stole away my life. Now, my life is new, different, evolved from before. I have evolved from the person I was in those months following. I'm no longer the scared little boy that I once was. I'm a street kid, and while I'm still younger and smaller than most, I am just as formidable as those around me.

The crowd jostles into each other as we move along. The spring festival is in full swing, flowers strung around the town, celebrating rebirth from the long, harsh winter. The Hunters would parade around the town again soon, meaning Velius will be out and about. That's my target for today. I'm going to pickpocket Velius Dag.

I stuff my hands in my deep pockets, my fingers tiddling with the coins within. Three copper. I'm tired of being poor. I'm tired of living like this, feeling so small and helpless. I'm going to be rid of it, and a big target like Velius will turn my life around faster than going after little targets over and over again.

"Will you be working the parade tonight?" Tank's voice catches me by surprise, a feat that has become increasingly more difficult to do since I first came to the streets.

"Yeah, something like that." I mumble absently, continuing on my trek up the hill. On the main road, people are shouting, telling the crowd to part, as the parade was already down at the pier, readying to make its way up through the streets toward the city center.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

I turn back to him, offering a lazy smile. "Gotta get good seats for the kowtowing I gotta do for these stuck up rich kids."

Tank chuckles. "Gotta get close if we want to lick their asses."

I scrunch my eyebrows together. "Kiss. Kiss their asses, Tank. Kindre Fie." I shake my head, turning around again to continue on my way to the city circle.

The band begins playing in the lower town. So the parade has started. I hop down an alley to the main road, weaving in and out of people. As I go, my eyes look every adult I pass up and down, taking account of where their eyes are fixated and the availability of their pockets and coinpurses. For those who are well and truly distracted, and those whose pockets are open for the picking, I slip my hand in, often replacing any snatched up coin with a hefty rock or lump of wood, like Tank had taught me. I keep my head down, my unruly hair in my face, blocking any prying eyes that took too much notice of my efforts.

Tank stays close behind me, his presence annoyingly close. If he finds out what I have planned, which he will when he sees my trajectory toward the old man, he'll try to stop me.

"Hey Tank, let's split up, so we don't draw attention."

"Good idea, Little man." The older boy says to me, and a moment later, his presence disappears from behind me. I let out a breath. The sounds of the parade are slowly drawing near. I should get to where I want to be.

The breeze is warm against my skin as I round the corner into the city circle, the crowd here not as dense as in the streets along the parade route. The sweet scent of cherry blossoms sweeps through the air, a promise of a warm spring and an early summer. Some warm weather will be a welcome change from the winter we've just emerged from. The streets are still cold at night, even inside the little abandoned half burnt home that some of the other kids and I share.

The parade draws closer, the music from the band growing louder. I squeeze my way to the front of the crowd just in time to see the first oxen-pulled cart come around the bend and circle into the city center.