The Elementals

Chapter 2

When I was six, Dad once told me, "You're in no position to concern yourself with the lives of others." We were walking down the block from the corner shop to our house with a small sack of canned foods, three rolls of bread, and three ripe oranges that we were lucky to find. Falco was nibbling on the orange, savoring it though I knew he wanted to inhale that fruit.

We were passing an alley between two shops when I saw a boy my age digging through trash bags. He came up short and curled into the wooden walls, a lump of skin and bones, tucking his knees to his chest, sniveling. I stopped in my tracks. Instinctively, I reached into the sack draped across my torso and pulled out a roll of bread. My feet carried me towards the boy, but I was snatched back by Dad aggressively yanking my arm.

The bread rolled out of my hand, landing by Falco's feet, but he paid it no attention. His eyes were locked on Dad's deadly grip on my wrist and something dark flickered in his eight-year-old eyes. Dad pulled me out of the alley towards Falco, plucked the bread off the ground, ripped the pouch off my person, and delivered those words. He meant it financially but also that it would risk exposing myself.

At that moment, two men in similar uniforms—one in black (an officer) and one in white (a guard)—stumbled behind us, drunk in the middle of the day. They were cackling boisterously with bottles in their hands when one of them saw the boy huddled against the garbage.

"Heyyyyyy look issa rrrat. He's sssstealing. Bad rat bad rat," the guard droned.

"Oh noooo. Thas dirty dirtyyyy. Betta get rrrrid ovit," the officer laughed before chucking his bottle at the wood next to the boy. We all flinched as the glass shattered and the boy desperately crawled away. They chased after him, kicking and punching once they caught up. Fury flared inside of me and I made to march after them to take them out.

I could've done it.

Dad called out to me, "Don't. Move."

His voice was full of warning that I would've ignored, but Falco gently touched the wrist that Dad grabbed earlier. It was beginning to burn, but the contrast of Falco's cold fingertips against the heat was soothing and pacified my wrath. So I turned away from the boy who whimpered and moaned through the onslaught of attacks. My heart hurt for him.

On the rest of our walk home Dad spoke only once more to say brusquely, "If a person interferes with any official's business, they won't live much longer. But for you, they'll torture you until you go mad. So ignore it. Any time you see a guard abusing their power," he whirled around, glaring down at me, "you keep walking. No one can find out about you."

He spun and marched home while I listened to the boy's cries. They haunted me at night and visited my dreams for two weeks after. Then I forced myself to move on, finally accepting Dad's words.

The memory—like all of my memories—is vivid in my mind when I tear my gaze from the little girl and keep walking. Shame gnaws at my insides and curdles in my stomach. I detour and drop the money off at Musiven's stall. My feet carry me through the town as the houses and establishments become worn and unstable and I arrive home in record time.

It's a tiny one story cube of wood with a short yard of dirt and dead grass. Inside are two cramped bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a bathroom. This is the edge of Fawn, the edge of Fourth. A few more streets down is the pond, some more living spaces, and the sixty foot kingdom wall made of stacked stones. While the Fourth is supposed to be average, maybe even above average compared to the other Villages in terms of wealth and housing, living on the outskirts becomes the exception.

I open the front door with a resounding creak. Dad's probably in his room, working on a request. My hands shake and bile rises in my throat as the image of the little girl remains seared into my mind. I unzip my boots, ignoring the glint of a golden S on the underside of the tongue as they slide off. They were a gift from Merci for my fifteenth birthday and for having completed secondary education. A perk of having a birthday so soon after classes let out and just days before the new year, I guess. Any gift for school can be combined with a birthday gift.