A half-eaten bun flew across the fruit stand and hit the scrawny boy on the other end. The stand was filled to the brim with different kinds of fruit. It was dawn, and the vendor hadn't made a single sale yet.
"Get out of here, you prick!" The man who threw the bun shouted at the boy. "Day just started and I've already got a beggar. What luck!"
The boy had been pestering the man for fruit. His request was met with a half-eaten bun to the chest. He looked down at where it had fallen to the ground, paused for a moment, then smiled and picked it up. He looked at the vendor with a huge grin.
"Thank you so much, good sir!" The boy bowed and immediately ran off. The vendor watched him go, shook his head, and turned back to his store to start preparing for customers. He didn't have the time to worry about others.
The boy ran out of the street where the market was and emerged onto a narrow road that extended both ways. He turned right and ran for a few seconds until he came to a building marked [Mercenary Guild]. He ducked into the alley beside it and kept running until he reached a line of shacks. He went into one of the smaller ones.
Inside, there was barely any furniture. One wobbly table and two blankets spread out on the floor. A small cabinet in the corner. That was it. The walls were made of wood that the richer commoners had discarded. The table and blankets were garbage that people had thrown away.
A small figure was sleeping in the corner of the room on one of the blankets. It was a young girl. She looked like she was around nine or ten years old, but in reality, she was twelve. Her long black hair covered the holes in her rags. She was shivering but hadn't wrapped herself in the other blanket.
"Daphne. Get up." The boy said it gently.
The girl opened her eyes. She looked at the boy and immediately sat up, her gaze falling to the bun in his hands.
"Where did you get that from, Leo? Did you steal it?" she asked.
He shook his head. "A fruit vendor gave it to me. Must be new around here. Anyway, take some. You haven't had food since yesterday."
He tore off the part of the bun where the vendor had bitten and shoved it into his own mouth. Then he handed the rest to Daphne. She took it and started nibbling.
"I'll go to the market and see if anyone needs help. If I work today, we should have food for two days at least," he said.
"I'll come too," Daphne said.
"No. You stay here. You're too young and frail. You might get hurt." He shook his head.
Daphne huffed. "You're the same age as me. Just one year older. And stop acting like you're my brother—you aren't. How can I let you do all the work?"
He smiled. "Well, we wouldn't be this desperate for food if you hadn't fallen sick. I had to stay here and take care of you for a week. You still haven't recovered. Once you do, you can work."
Daphne sighed and looked away. "Okay. Bye."
"Bye. I'll see you in the evening."
He left the shack and went back to the marketplace. It was a single street with ample space for people to walk. Carriages could fill up the road, but since nobles never came here, that wouldn't be a problem. Vendors lined each side, shouting to attract customers.
Some offered simple groceries, but most sold equipment and potions to mercenaries. With the Mercenary Guild right beside the market, the smaller mercenaries preferred to get their supplies from the stalls instead of the bigger shops.
Leo went to the first stall that caught his eye—one that sold swords. He walked up to the vendor.
"Hello. Do you need anyone to do small tasks you don't want to do? I can help you clean your stall and swords."
"Go somewhere else, kid." The vendor didn't even look up.
Leo was not discouraged. He went to the next stall and asked again. Once more, he was met with refusal. He kept asking at every store, badgering anyone with a kind-looking face, but everyone said no.
He finally arrived at a potions stall.
"Hello. Do you need anyone to do small work you don't want to do? I can do anything you need me to," he told the vendor. "That I'm able to do," he added.
The vendor was a middle-aged man with a full-grown beard. He looked up and studied Leo—also dressed in rags, also looking about ten years old.
"How old are you?" he asked.
"I'm thirteen years old. I might look younger, but that's because I didn't eat enough as a kid." Leo smiled as he said it.
The man winced. He looked around his stall. Everything was clean, and there was nothing for Leo to do. Leo noticed it himself.
"It's okay. I'll come another day," Leo said. He turned to leave, but the man stopped him.
"What's your name, boy?"
"I'm Leo. Nice to meet you, Mr…?" He held out his hand. The man shook it.
"Trevor."
"So, do you have any work for me, Mr. Trevor?"
Trevor looked at him for a long moment.
"As you can see, the stall is very clean. Potion selling is neat work. So no—there's nothing for you here."
Leo's smile faded.
"But that changes if you can risk your life."