Darkness had become Lester's companion. Not by his choice of course. At least not entirely. He could have taken certain steps to prevent it, but he had only been a child. A child on the path his father had put him on.

The rumbling in his belly reminded him why he was here. As if he needed that. Lester took his two iron sticks out and put them into the keyhole, pushing the latches up. It wasn't his first time, so the wide door of the storage room, attached to the mansion he had watched for so long, sprung right open. Without making any noise he disappeared into the darkish room behind. The sudden mix of smells overwhelmed him for a moment, before he started putting everything, that looked remotely eatable, from the shelves into his bag. After filling it with bread, smoked turkey, carrots and some apples, something else made him stop in his tracks. That smell, that beautiful, sugary smell. He loved it, he hated it, he went looking for it. The smell turned out to be a giant cake, beautifully decorated with cherries and cream writing out “happy birthday” and a five. Lester craved it. For him this was childhood, innocence, peace and happiness. For him this was everything he had lost. With a deep sigh, he turned his back to it and walked out into the cold night. With cake occupying his mind, he hadn't considered his carefully planned timeframe and walked right into the single guard that made his way around the house all night.

»Stop«, the man said, already running towards him. It took Lester another moment to clear his mind. And because of that, he was still thinking about running away, when the guard tackled him to the ground.

Ignoring the pain erupting in his back, he smashed his elbow into the older guys face and shoved him off, before landing three more punches right on the nose. With the guard holding his face screaming, Lester got up and ran away. He regretted how he had handled the situation, when the noises of the curious started to flood the cobblestone street.

It would be a chase then.

After three blocks he tossed the food he had stolen into one of the bushes, growing alongside the brick houses, hoping to be able to retrieve it at some point. And the noise behind him grew. Another block later he tossed his bloody jacket, that had single-handedly saved his life during the winter. The mob came close when he reached the marketplace. With dozens of people already putting up their stands for the day, Lester was glad, that at least this last part of his plan could still work out. He circled around some wagons and tents, before stopping next to an older man, standing in front of the noticeboard. He pretended to read the letters with great interest, while the guard and his helpers walked past him. Not daring to run away already, he started to read what was before him. And after the night he just had, the sentence promising shelter, food and compensation seemed wonderful, even with the naive idiot's speech above.