"Thorne…"
Aster said, his voice devoid of warmth. He turned around slowly to meet the pompous grin he had grown accustomed to over the past weeks.
Thorne was dressed like any other typical adventurer, his large frame covered with pieces of leather armour and a dirty cloak hung over his shoulder. A rusted sword hung on his waist, his right hand resting on the pommel of the blade. Dirty blonde hair slicked back and a face that didn't look over eighteen.
Two other figures stood beside him, both males and identical to a fault. Both were slightly larger than Thorne. Tufts of wild red hair stuck out across their scalps, giving them an almost brutish appearance.
Aster scowled when he noticed the two. They were very hard to miss.
'Brandon and Baston.'
Originally he had planned on running if things spiraled out of control, but with these two present that thought was already becoming fleeting.
"Didn't you miss me, little rat?" Thorne asked, the arrogant grin on his face growing wider.
By now the leather pouch had vanished from Aster's hands and into his pocket.
"Cut the crap, what do you want?" Aster retorted, his tongue on the verge of issuing out a curse, but he held it back at the last moment.
Thorne unsheathed a small dagger and twirled it between his fingers as he spoke.
"A little birdie told me it saw you at Raker's stall."
"So? What about it?"
"I want my cut of today's earnings," Thorne finally demanded, the blade of the dagger leveled at Aster.
Aster clenched his fists hard. He knew from the start that was what he wanted. This had been going on for weeks now, ever since he had been unfortunate enough to come across the greedy adventurer.
He couldn't involve the authorities, which also came with its own set of problems. He wasn't a registered adventurer; he was a cheat in the system. Adventurers completed quests and then reported to their guild. The guild then sold the resources gained to the merchants for a price.
But Aster sold the same goods, unregistered, for a cheaper price. Sadly, only one merchant took the risk to purchase from him.
Any involvement with the authorities would possibly end him in a dungeon cell. He knew it, and so did Thorne.
His piercing emerald eyes grew dark. He finally responded.
"No."
Thorne's grin grew crooked for a split second. Looking at the emerald eyes that stared at him defiantly, he grew infuriated. This was the main reason he hated the brat—those eyes of his. Always looking like the world was his to oppose.
The grip on his dagger grew tighter.
'So desperately did he want to gouge them out.'
"Let's not make this difficult, kid," he voiced with restraint, the statement balanced somewhere between rationality and a threat.
Aster's resolve didn't falter. With defiance burning like flames in the depths of emerald, he replied.
"Piss off."
The word hung in the air before a low, dry chuckle resounded in the small space. Thorne's gaze grew murderous.
"Bring the brat," he muttered.
And finally, the silent walls of muscle that had stood at his sides moved.
Aster's eyes darted around frantically, looking for an opening. Brandon and Baston had already covered half the distance, surprisingly agile for their size.
The two approached Aster like siege rams, ready to obliterate his tiny body. But at times like this, he just had to thank the heavens for his short stature.
He ducked, relying on nothing but dumb luck and no real technique. The first blow cut through the air above him.
He darted to the side to avoid a second, but his footing was off.
The blow struck his side and sent him tumbling. He winced. The pain felt unbearable, but this wasn't the time to sulk.
He rolled to the left, causing a fist to miss him and connect with the stone pavement.
Brandon—or Baston, one of them—he couldn't care who at the moment, let out a wail and stumbled back. His large frame crashed into the other, greatly reducing their speed.
Aster thanked the heavens. It seemed luck was on his side today.
The alleyway was too small for chaotic movements, so for a few seconds the brutes would be restricted.
He sprang to his feet and ran deeper into the alley.
From behind, Thorne's frantic shout for the brutes to catch him resounded like a melody in his ears.
He knew every alley, every street, and every shortcut as well as he knew his name. His survival had always depended on them.
Thorne knew that as well. The moment they lost sight of him, even for a second, then it was game over—he would escape.
Aster ran. A small smile spread across his lips.
'He was going to make it out less battered than he imagined.'
He took a sharp left and dashed forward. The alley's end didn't seem so far anymore.
He was going to make it.
He almost wanted to let out a triumphant
laugh.
'Thorne could choke on a dying rat for all he cared.'
He burst out from the alley's darkness, returning into the bright noon light of the town, and continued forward.
Thorne emerged moments later, looking disheveled. He cursed and threw his dagger to the ground, his slight outburst drawing some attention.
He noticed the stares, left the dagger on the floor, and turned back into the alley.
A slight madness burned in his gaze. The twin brutes stood ahead.
"Find him," he voiced out before walking away.
Brandon and Baston glanced at each other for a split second before continuing their march forward.
With heavy steps atop the stone pavements, the mini titans began their search for the brat.