The market was packed, as it always was on the weekend. No matter how many times Idhrenion had cased this area he couldn't help but be amazed by the sheer variety of life all packed into this relatively tight spot!

All looking for bargains. All potential victims.

As far as the eye could see there were handsome young warriors, browsing with their friends or showing off, trying to impress their beautiful spouses; tall and imposing mages demonstrated their power with light shows and invisibility tricks. And everywhere money was changing hands.

And the Eudemons! The most beautiful animals Idhrenion had ever seen �C and at the young age of seventeen he'd seen a lot! They came in all shapes and sizes, winged ones, human looking ones; cute brightly colored balls of fluff that he knew hid a terrible power within them.

Idhrenion felt a pang of jealousy within him, looking at all these fine people in their smart clothes, followed by their beautiful creatures and he spat in disgust. This was a life he'd never known, it was one he was never likely to.

You see, Idhrenion was a lost child, one of the beggars. And a very accomplished pick pocket also. He didn't remember when things had changed, when he and his brother had lost their parents or even when he'd lost his brother. It just seemed as it always did �C

- Like he'd been born to live in the gutter.

The gutter he lived in was the capitol city, Cronus. This city for so many was a glistening beacon of hope. Filled with majesty and riches! But Idhrenion had never seen that side of the city, all he knew was hunger and poverty.


Poverty was not a rarity in a city as large as the capitol. Everywhere Idhrenion looked there were beggars, asking passers by for food, clothes and other items. But the others didn't see them, or didn't want to, they just walked on by.

'Snap out of it', he told himself. 'It's time to go to work'.

Idhrenion began to move among the crowds, keenly searching for a likely suspect to pick. He'd done this for years and never once worried about the consequences. After all, people this rich could afford it right?

He spotted a frail old man hunched over a stall at the far end and he stopped. There was something about the man that intrigued him, he was hunched over, and clearly old, there was a certain weariness about him, a certain gentle wisdom.

The gray haired man looked wealthy, he wore an elegant silver robe with armored torso. A glistening suit made up of neatly crafted amour plate and fabric, he leant on a staff not common to Idhrenion's eyes, and he had the air of a wizened old mage who'd seen more of the world than he cared to.

'Perfect for picking'.

Silently and with a confident agility, the boy slipped through the crowd. The old man had his back to him but Idhrenion could see he was examining some fresh clover, he was totally distracted.

In a dozen sure strides Idhrenion was behind the old man. But he didn't stop there. Feigning an accident he continued and bumped into the man who fell forwards with a start, spilling the contents of the stall. In the confusion Idhrenion swiftly and gently grabbed at the purse tied around the old man's waist. It came loose straight away and without a second's thought Idhrenion had apologized, turned and made to leave.

It was then he realized he'd underestimated his prey.

The grip on his wrist was a tight as a vice, if not for bracelet he wore, preventing a full grip, the boy was sure that the old man would've crushed his wrist. He turned, ready to protest but stopped short.

The man suddenly towered over Idhrenion, gone were the hunched back frail demeanor. His eyes bore deep into Idhrenion, his burning gaze held the boy fixed. In one swift movement the man had taken back what was his and set it back in its place.

And still he held onto Idhrenion. There was no way free, nowhere to run, and the man's gaze still bore down onto him.


To be continued��