And we're off!

The cloudless sky showed an abundant array of blue over the port of Termin. There was a gentle breeze that tempted you for more. There wasn’t much of any greenery in this side of the country, the last of my dense and tall woods were some time ago from here, but I could get there in a brief run. The buildings there wouldn’t make someone believe that there was no beauty to see ere, even though most were only whitewash in color, they were sculpted in the way of a true genius. The details were made to resemble creatures in the see, but again, it was far from its prime. And even though its beauty was something to behold, the memories of my last time here still branded itself in my mind. I looked down at Pony, and saw his fists clenched into balls, a slight shiver going through his little body. This sight gave my jaw a hard line.

“Well, we have to go sometimes. Sooner or later, and I think it is better to be sooner,” I said, and though I wasn’t sure if I telling this to Pony or myself.

At one we decided to walk in, and looked at the people that looked back at us. The people of Ternim, in addition to their amazing memory, also had an even taller sense of arrogance. They believed themselves not apart of the country, and they believed anyone who wasn’t apart of this place was an outsider. Though with all of their arrogance, hey still had nothing more than a basic militia.

With every step the memories of my last visit here came, and I didn’t think I could take it much longer.

“Where are we going?” Pony asked me.

“We are looking for somewhere called the sleeping lion.” I didn’t understand why it was called a lion, which had nothing to do with the sea, but that was the place that Raven wanted us to me, the reasons why, I did not know, but I was stopped by the sound of someone yelling.

It was a man, a man who looked like he had died and wasn’t allowed to go to the underworld. His left side of his face was marked with the result of fire licking it for too long, making his left eye forever closed. The gray streaks in his hair seemed to have come to him too early, and he looked almost familiar, though I couldn’t tell where.

“I said, haven’t I seen you before?”

This told me that he thought the same thing I did, as though I paths have crossed, but neither of us could tell where. Then it hit me; actually hit me as Pony tried to hit me on the back of my head, but barely reaching me. I did see this man before, though before I had he did not have any gray hair, or a burn mark. He was there the day I met Pony, and he was most likely the reason that I met him.

“No sir,” I said, allowing my full accent, from an unknown decent, take into my voice, to allow the thought that I was a foreigner sink in.

“I’m pretty sure you were there the night-“

“Piccolo!”

All three of us turned around at the new voice, I saw Raven, walking down with escorts of some sort. She was dressed in a green dress, made possibly of silk, and an emerald necklace to help the thought of green. It did contrast her hair, which gleamed with the sun, but the biggest problem was the fact that I didn’t know who Piccolo was, but maybe it was me.

“Piccolo, why do you have to run away from me all of the time?” she said, smiling and showing her white teeth. None of us were sure which one of us was, but it didn’t take very long for someone to catch up to her bluff, fortunately for me it wasn’t the man with the burn upon his face.

“I’m sorry Princess,” Pony said innocently “I didn’t think you would mind if I looked at the traders and what they were selling before we went home.”

I smiled, now aware of the bluff that was going on. “I didn’t know that he didn’t have permission to do so, next time I will ask for your permission before I let him go off.”

“Excuse me princess,” said the man with the burn mark upon his face, “Are these two with you? I could have sworn that I have seen them here before . . .”

Raven smiled another smile, but one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course they are with me, how could I forget my courter and servant? It is okay that you may think you have seen them, there are many people that carry looks that look the same.”

I held back a snort of arrogance. She was trying to help me, so I wouldn’t let her hear it, but she was very wrong in that latter part of her statement. Pony, having blond hair, and the natural color of his eyes, may have fit into that category. Many people have black hair and brown eyes, but none compared to the ones that were in my lineage. My hair, even though it was black, was different nonetheless; it seemed to be that it couldn’t decide whether to be black or blue, so it chose to be the color where those two match. Many times on different occasions people have thought it was indeed blue, but my hair was wet at that time, and in the light of the high moon.

My eyes were a different thing altogether, people, even though there are few that have been able to look me in the eye, say that they were a blue, some a green, and some a golden color. The situation was settled when I was still in the companionship of my father. I still remember what he said to this dilemma:

“Your eyes are like my eyes, and my eyes are like us. We don’t listen to what people say, and we don’t care about the categories that people wish to put us in. if we feel like it, we will change. So whenever someone asks you what color are your eyes, just tell them that they are whatever they wanted to be at that moment.”

I didn’t know what color they chose to be at that moment, but my train of thought was stopped by someone tugging on my sleeve.

“What Piccolo?” I asked, hiding a smile from reaching my lips.

“I wonder which one of us is the courter, and which one is the servant.”

I smiled at his statement.

“I doubt we’ll ever figure it out my little friend.”

He smiled, using his sleeve to wipe his face, which was probably done to build the dramatic pause.

“I think I need something to eat, don’t you my dear servant?”

And with that, we walked away, trying to find the seven year old courter some food.

***

“So why are you here, right now?”

I smiled a dangerous smile at the person talking to me. Even though I was about to leave this place, the Grapevine would need to know of it, and I was still in need of being able to communicate with them. As far as I knew, there were spies for the Grapevine in every city, town, and village that rumors and the sort could come about, and that was a lot. The man before me, which was about a few years older than me he looked, about twenty, was wondering what I was doing in this place. Before I decided to introduce myself I saw the tattoo that was given to all spies: a grapevine somewhere barely noticeable. This man had it behind his ear, and his shaggy brown hair almost hid it from even my view.

“I told you already, I am here to pick up my things before I leave this country. Surely you know what I am talking about?” I asked, again showing the smile.

“Um, yes . . . I do know, and you say that you are Dante?”

By now I was starting to get annoyed with this man. Everyone in the Grapevine knew who I was, and everyone knew what was mine. My father was told to be an assassin before he was a thief, and with that he gave his tools of the trade to the Grapevine until I was to retrieve it. I had never seen it, but I know that the head of thieves wouldn’t let anyone mess with the Thief King’s items.

“Yes! Now where is someone that actually knows something for once! For some reason I really wish to drive a blade into you.”

“I don’t think that would be necessary Durante . . .”

I looked back to who was talking, and couldn’t help but show the smile that spread across my face. It had been some years since I had seen this person, and she wasn’t the same as I last saw her.

“Thorne!” I said, holding out my arms to embrace her for a hug, which she walked straight by. I looked confused, but I would wait until she began to talk.

“It seems that the Prince of Thieves has finally come home, only to leave once again. So what brings you here Dante? Did the king finally grow weary of you? Or did the princess tell you that you were unworthy?”

I was still confused, that was until she let a smile crawl onto her face. She then embraced me, and we smiled as we held each other arms apart to get a better look. She had grown since I last seen her two years ago, and when I accidently looked down, I noticed that she had become more womanly . . .

“So what was with this façade? What have I done wrong?”

I shouldn’t have asked; I know what it was that I did. I looked at her blond hair, with went well with her hazel eyes. Though I didn’t have to ask because he came running down, arms held up wide.

“Sister!”

She dropped down to her knees and embraced him. I almost felt a pain of jealousy, but then I realized it was me who had separated him from his only living relative, and even if it was for good reason, my conscience bade me to feel bad about it.

“My oh my, haven’t you grown since I last saw you? What has he been feeding you?” Thorne cooed, visibly happy to see her little brother after so long. Pony didn’t say much though; he just stood there and smiled.

“Is he still quiet as ever?” she asked, oblivious to the fact that he would never close his mouth when it was just me and him.

“Apparently,”

“Well, off we go, there has to be a reason that you came here, and my bet is that you came to get your things? Are you leaving us Dante?”

“Unfortunately so,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “I have been put up as wanted now, and I will have to leave until this fat king of ours decides to rest in peace. I am sorry to say this, but I plan to take Pony with me, if you are okay with that of course.”

The last part was said merely to keep the tension away from the situation. Everyone that knew Pony knew that he had one place that he wanted to be, and that place was joined at my hip. Thorne may have been his kin by blood, but Pony was more than a brother to me, it was almost as if we knew what one another was thinking, and I hated to think about the feeling that I am taking him away from his sister once again.

“Thorne, I think I want to stay with Dante . . .”

Thorne, who was only used to him saying one word sentences, look, surprised at this, to her, newly acquired skill.

“Why?” she asked, trying to keep the disappointment in her voice.

“Its just, Dante and I have been with each other for two years, and I don’t want to leave him by himself. There isn’t anything for me in this place, not after the old man tried to burn me on the stake. That same man just so happen to bump into us when we arrived here, and fortunately, he didn’t recognize me. If I stay here, I will be in constant reminder of that, if he doesn’t kill me first . . .”

“Kirk wouldn’t let that happen to you Pony . . .” she said, almost in a pleading sort of way, I hated to do this, but I had to intervene. The name Kirk let a memory come back into my mind, and I remembered where I thought I knew that man from.

“Kirk, does Kirk has a burn on the side of his face?”

Thorne nodded.

“Then that was the same man that wanted to burn Pony on the stake. The people of Termin aren’t too fond of people who can perform magic, and Pony was able to do that before he even had a book of shadows.”

She looked at me with a face of betrayal, but I wouldn’t let her speak just yet.

“I know I’ve been called many things, but I am not cruel enough to want to separate families for my own gain. I have had Pony with me for his own protection, and I know you wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.”

“I would never-“

“Then why were they able to catch him that night? He was supposed to be looked after, and I saw no one around when they took him away and started tying him to the stake! It doesn’t matter if you’re his kin or not, you weren’t doing a good job on it, and that means he’s coming with me!”

I felt guilty when I said those last words, even though they were true, I didn’t have to say them in that sort of way. I was relieved when Thorne put on a smile, however weak as it may have been, and guided me away from the tension that I tried so hard not to put in, we would only walk for a little while, even though Termin itself was a size to gloat about.

“Okay, we’re here.” She said.

“Here” was a metal circle that seemed to be misplaced on the ground. Most people believed that one of the architects misplaced a sewer lid, because it didn’t connect to the sewers. We climbed down, and I soon smelled the smell that told me that I was heading in the right direction. Raven told me that I should meet with her when the moon is out, but I had to make my farewells.

I inhaled deeply as I smelled the smell of wine, and walked my way down to the only place that I was allowed to call home.

The tunnel toward the main entrance was still a little damp, and I had to crouch to be able to walk. There wasn’t any light that could be seen in here, but there wasn’t any needed. The only way that we could know that we were possibly going the right way was the smell of wine gradually getting stronger. I could feel a cramp coming into my legs and back, and I soon needed to stretch. The bad part was that I had to wait five more minutes before I could. I walked in to a not so well lit area, mostly a passing place to make sure that no intruders came inside. I was worried and somewhat curious that I did not see any of the archers around, just a man standing in the entrance way, holding what appeared to be an unlit torch.

“Show your vines!”

 No matter how many times I have gone through this process, it still sounded weird to my ears to have a man telling me to show my vines. I rolled up the sleeve of my left arm, and Thorne rolled up her left side of her breeches. The man, who I noticed now, seemed to start a fire out of nowhere and lit a torch. He firstly held it to Thorne; under the direct warmth of the flame, the outlines of a grapevine could be seen. As he pulled the torch away the sight slowly faded, until there was nothing more than a slightly pink area.

He went next to me, and by the firelight I could see his face. He wasn’t nothing much to look at, and he was plainly average. He had only the most normal and common of hair color, and nothing more, but next I knew that he was new, which meant that he wouldn’t know about me yet.

The Grapevine’s tattoos were given at the age of thirteen, and a family line would get the same one, going off of their father’s side. This meant that Pony would get the same as Thorne, and I had the same as my father. But no one really saw my father's anymore, not unless you looked at the Grapevine’s insignia: three grapevines leading around and intertwining with each other in a circle. They also had four grapes that lead from the intertwining vines into the circle, but I didn’t know what they meant.

Some people said my ancestors created the Grapevine, some say that my father himself did. But whatever it was, it didn’t help the new guy get prepared for when he saw it onto my flesh.

I cared less about whether he had the flame too close to my skin or not, I was more worried about the reaction on his face when he saw it. His eyes grew wide and his smile parted so that he could take an inhale of breath.

“Battaglia . . . ?”

I nodded, rolling down my sleeve and walking away from him. I looked up at the sight of movement, seeing one of the archers that were supposed to be there, smiling at me. I don’t know how they knew I was coming, but I felt good to play a part in this little joke on the new guy. In fact he was so stunned that he didn’t ask about Pony’s tattoo, but then again, Pony wasn’t old enough to get one.

We past the little gate that separated us from the west entrance to see the main entry of the Grapevine, and I felt the sense of home. The many torches that were lit stopped any thought that we were still underground, and there was still a buzzing of moving, since there was always something to tell and rumors to spread. This was the place where every thief went for refugee, and it contradicted everything that people thought about thieves.

I frowned as I thought about that. There were still petty thieves, ones who did it for the thrill and to cause havoc in their towns, but those people were usually dealt with. We were more of a source of leverage than just thieves, making sure that the poor weren’t as needy as they would be without our help. Whoever came up with the idea received it from the master thief Robin Hood. We stole from the rich and gave to whoever needed it, and the better thief a person was, the richer the person he stole from. This is why I stole from the fat king himself. I frowned again as I thought of the probability of no one being able to take my place when I leave.

I decided to avoid anyone that I might have known personally. I only wanted to get my things and leave, and the thought that I would have to say goodbye didn’t settle with my already uneasy stomach. I went to my bank, or at least something equivalent to it, the thieves had a specific room that held anything that they couldn’t carry with themselves on their journeys, and anything that was given down to them. I had many heirlooms from my father, but I was only going for a specific thing.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” I called to Thorne and Pony, “Meet me at the entrance in an hour.”

The hour I needed wasn’t merely to get my things, but because my father had a tendency to create thins out of apparently nothing. He saw one day how a thief could only carry so many weapons and still be able to breech walls in silence, so he one day he made himself an outfit just for the job.

At night it would appear to be just a black outfit with nothing special about it. But up close I could see as I held it in my arms, that there were many sheaths for different sizes of blades that crisscrossed around the torso, and a place for one on each inner leg. There was also a sheath running along the length of the spine. It may have held a sword, and with the sword was in its sheath the sheath could be used to protect the wielder’s spine. I never knew my father to have a sword, but I wasn’t sure about most of the things that would travel around my father’s mind.

I calculated that this look at my heirloom took me only five minutes, which meant that I would have to use the rest of this hour looking for his many hidden blades, throwing knives, and if possible, his sword.

“Why did you have to be so secretive and unorganized Father?” I asked, only hearing silence as a reply.

** *

 

I watched the faces of Thorne and Pony as I appeared in my new choice of clothing. They both had their eyes in slits, and their brows were very furrowed. I let out a laugh at the sight. They looked so much alike, and I could easily tell that they were siblings. Their faces smoothed out and relaxed; I guess my laugh betrayed my element of enigma.

“So this is the suit of a thief?” Thorne asked me, showing a smile to show that she was playing.

“More like an assassin, or something of the sort.” I said, “Maybe this was the suit of arms for whatever my father did before my birth.” I added as afterthought.

We all nodded in silence. There was nothing or no one that could tell me what my father did before I was born, or before he met my mother. Whenever I tried to ask him, he would clam up and quickly change the subject. I put on a sad smile, and followed Pony and his sister aboveground. I only did that in body though, for my mind was away, searching in its depths of wherever my father may be, if he was alive at least.

As much as I liked the smell of wine, the spell of fresh air was a relief to my lungs and head. The sun looked as though it was about to set, and I finally realized that I was supposed to be leaving this place before the night ends.

I took in a sigh “Pony, you can stay with Thorne for the moment. Just meet me at the docks when the moon is at its highest that would be the appropriate time for us to leave. I believe that the ship that is taking us is white, and big. Will you be there?”

I didn’t need to ask him that, I knew that he would. My little companion would have to be dragged away to leave my side. I just needed him to say good bye, again, and like the time before, I didn’t know when he would be able to see his family again.

Thorne gave me a hug, and once again we held each other at arm length. We were once again saddened by the thought of separating, but not in the way that ones would believe. We didn’t have any romantic bond between us, but she was my comrade. We have done more than one thing together, gotten in and out of trouble together and stole together. The lump in my throat forbid me to say anything more to her, and all she could muster was a sad half smile, but that was enough for me.

I walked away, and told myself not to look back. There was a pick up in wind as I did so, and I let down my hair to block me away from the worst of the cold.

The Sleeping Lion was in view, and it looked nothing like a place royalty would come to do business. The word sleeping wasn’t fit for a description; I would think the word dying would be better. The tavern looked more like an overgrown shack. The wood’s paint, which looked as though it was white in its prime, was peeling miserably. The windows were huge, but they gave the building the appearance that it may fall over at any time. The sign swung in the breeze freely. There may have been a painting of a lion taking a nap at one point, but now there was only a mane without a face, and the S, o, and n was missing, so it appeared to be the leeping Li.

I walked in, readied myself for the smell of stale ale and musk, and found nothing of that sort.

The floors were polished and clean, a nice bluff was shown, and I took off of my shoes, figuring that this was needed. I saw a pair of sandals and slipped them on, looking for someone to ask for help. There was a fireplace, with a fire happily inside, warming the place and deeply contrasting it from its outer shell. I looked back at my boots, the dried mud looking out of place in this clean atmosphere. I actually went to put them up when I heard someone coming, and looked back to the owner.

He was an elderly looking man, about a head shorter than me. He wore a kind smile, and his graying hair was cropped. He looked at me, not taking any threat to the many blades that I carried with me.

“You must be Piccolo.”

It was not a question; it was a statement, and that made me feel like I was in the right place. I stopped the conversation to look around the room, and I saw something that I was ashamed to say I didn’t notice before: stairs leading to the second floor. I cursed myself for being so blind to details like this. One day this might cause me a major problem. I just hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

“So are you the one they call Piccolo?” the elderly man asked. I looked back at him, and realized that my hesitation from answering may have made him feel as though I wasn’t who he said I was.

“Yes, I am Piccolo.” I lied. “Do you know where I could find Raven?”

He gripped my left arm and led me toward the stairs, winding down hallways and stairs. During the moving I started to wonder how this building could be so much bigger than what the outer appearance showed. Many times I almost tripped after stepping into a staircase that I thought wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Here we are,” he said, leaving me in front of a wooden door. I turned around to thank him, but he turned the corner, and I heard no more of him, not even footsteps. My eyes went around toward my surroundings, and I could only find walls and doors, none of the woods I dearly loved.

The man had led me to Raven, but I was in a room with more than her. The room itself wasn’t vey furnished, but that may have been because it wasn’t made for sleeping. There was only a round table, with chairs all around that could be used for speaking. There was a map of the world upon the wall, so it could have been a place for politics.

“Dante, sit please . . .” Raven said, her white hair now down her back. She was still wearing her emerald dress, but she had discarded her necklace.

Everyone within earshot had turned their heads to see me, and the intensity of several pairs of eyes boring into me was strangely unsettling. I have been in worst positions, so the fact that I wasn’t my usual calm self was new. I had never seen these people before in my life, so the fact that they all have taken a liking into me was a question I needed answered. Though before I could ask, someone spoke up.

“Your Loki’s boy, right?”

I looked at in the direction of the voice who asked the question, my eyes landed on someone who seemed oddly familiar. He was from foreign lands; I knew this because his hair was tied behind his back, though it was more of a color of rich soil than black. I wondered why I was comparing him with me, but the more I looked at this man. The more I though I saw familiarities. He owned a sword, but it was on his right hip, labeling him left handed. His build was not necessarily athletic, but he was wired in a way that showed a life of running and climbing and fighting. His face, most of all, looked more like that of an animal. There was something there that made him more of a beast, or something missing that made him less human.

I nodded in the man’s direction just to get a short nod for a reply. I made a mistake of looking into his eyes, which only gave me a staring contest. I didn’t understand the need for it, but I felt like blinking was futile compared to the need to last the longest. Then he something that was a rarity in my life: he smiled.

“Your father has made himself a lot of enemies in his lifetime boy” the man told man told me, seemingly oblivious that he had not told me his name yet. The air around this very man still made me feel uneasy, and I longed for the open area of the forest. Being in this confined area with strangers wasn’t something that I fancied. 

“Some could say that you, being his only child, has inherited though very enemies. Your father had very dangerous people as enemies, but even more as allies. I think that-“

“Please,” I interrupted, feeling no need for the puzzles, “I would appreciate it if you spoke in my language, and if it isn’t a problem, get to the point.”

As the man’s glance went to a glare I readied myself for a confrontation, but he simply smiled again, which made me even more uncomfrontable.

“Before your father left without notice, he had a few people, a few powerful people, looking for him. In no way possible did these men wish for your father’s welfare. Since you are your father’s heir, you have inherited some enemies to the Battaglia name. I would like to help you, all of us are here to make sure that you are looked after.” He waved his hand around to show that he meant for everyone seating at this room.”We all our here for your well being.”

“I can defend myself.” I said.

“Boy . . .: he started, “Just because you have your father’s blades does not mean you have your father’s claws-“

“Again,” I interrupted. “I have no need for riddles. I know that I am not as great as Loki. But of the many blades I see here, I can handle most of them. I think I know more about these than you. I’m pretty sure I knew my father better than you!”

Once again we said nothing as we looked upon each other.

“Where’s your father’s sword?”

It was someone else that said this, this time a woman that was near her prime, if not past it.

“I do not know.”

I have heard many things about my father’s sword. I have seen it only a few times in my life. The hilt was black and the cross guard held a black gem, but the blade was the scary part. I only saw this blade when I was younger, and it gave me nightmares. The blade was the color of a tooth. It sounded weird, but his sword’s blade looked as though it had been made from a giant predator’s canine tooth. It even had a slight curve like the tooth. One time I saw how the blade looked with blood on it . . .

I shivered at the memory.

“You really are your father’s son. You both were more stubborn than any mule that I have seen. I like that about you boy, now, will you agree to be trained?”

I shook my head “I have people to take care of, and I won’t let myself stop that duty for something of minor importance, and I would like if you could stop talking in riddles.”

“You think your own life is of minor importance? Who’s the special lady?”

“There is no ‘special lady’ in mind. I am talking about a seven year old, Pony.”

“Your father told me the same thing. He told me during the eve of our days as men. You look like your father boy, and you both look the same way as when you’re lying. Your little advocate will follow you wherever you go, your father is rumored to be dead, and you have no other family in this country. The only logical thing is that you are worried about someone that no one is put in to perspective. So tell me boy, are you worried about dear Jade?”

My heart jumped.

“What about the princess?”

Author's Note

what do you think of the dialouge and characters?