Lovell drifted through the desert that now stood on the ruins of his birth place.

Many decades ago, his life took a turn that left him the ghastly figure he was now.

With eyes that had no pupils, and scars flowing from them like tears running down his cheeks. The dry desert winds cracked his lips that had been without food for days.

He fashioned a belt made from the skulls of all those he loved and had lost. 

He stood atop a dune of sand and proceeded down into the empty world he had created.

He was looking to die where he began.

...

5th march 999 FC.

Lovell burst through the first open door he could find, agitated, he hid.

He panted heavily as he managed to crouch behind a shelf. The winds were always strong when winter approached. 

A strong gust slammed the door behind him, allowing him to remain unnoticed from the man he had just stolen from. 

He took a deep breath to collect himself and looked around. Recognizing a familiar face, Lovell allowed himself to relax a little bit. Knowing where he was, he skillfully moved around and hid from the window view. 

After hearing rushed footsteps pass by the shop, Lovell's worries faded. He grabbed a stale loaf from a shelf of food and walked to the counter.

"Thank you for the bread, Mrs. Pearce."

 

A crumbled note with a 2-bar inscription was drawn from his back pocket and placed on the counter where a beautiful woman sat.

Lovell said this as he was making his way out of the old and worn-out shop. 

Since it was located in the slum area, the food quality was just barely acceptable. It normally only catered to those who resided in it, and those people didn't complain as long as they had something to eat.

Having said his farewells, he turned his face away from her as the smile he was wearing to improve her impression of him slowly crumbled. 

Before he could turn the doorknob, she asked him a question. He was stopped right before he could leave.

"You boys going to be doing anything stupid again? Always causing trouble." 

She spoke this with a disinterested expression, as if it was a regular occurrence.

Lovell stopped in his tracks but quickly made his way out of the shop without turning back to face her or answering her question. 

We started coming by often because we heard a beauty had opened a shop down on Bottle Street, but now she is always asking questions. 

Last week, one of the boys said she was asking about where exactly we all hang out.

....Troublesome

Lovell thought this as he made his way through the market area that was built around the old fish fountain in the outskirts of town. 

Although there was a rather unique smell permeating the air, no one seemed to be bothered by it.

All kinds of mundane items painted the streets, and the crowds only seemed to be growing. 

Most of the rows were littered with second-hand clothing and food that seemed to barely meet an acceptable standard. 

"COME ALL TO JEFFREY'S STALL!! BUY TWO GET ONE FREE!!"

" NINA'S STALL IS WHERE YOU GO TO FIND THE BEST CLOTHES FOR YOUR KIDS!!"

 All sorts of voices shouted at the top of their lungs in an attempt to attract more customers and drum up their business. 

Lovell had long since grown accustomed to what could only be considered the norm in this part of town. 

He would occasionally throw glances at the various items that were being paraded, but there was never truly anything that caught his eye. 

He continued to move out of the crowds but was increasingly met with resistance in his attempts. A hand reached for his pocket and Lovell looked at it as it receded without saying a word.

He turned his gaze elsewhere and proceeded as if nothing had happened.

Now that it has come to this...

He considered taking a shortcut that he would only take under such circumstances. 

A group of thugs would occasionally make it their extortion point, and he had met them a few times while evading the crowds.

Whether it was luck or misfortune, he would usually have nothing on his person worth extorting and would be allowed through after a few insults. 

...

He made his way towards an alley east of the market and headed towards his group's hideout. As he made his way east, he saw that his concerns were unwarranted.

Thankfully, I do not have to waste my breath this time. 

The thugs who could be found there were not there this time. Lovell thought how nice it was not to have to deal with idiots on one of the few days he gets to just unwind. Comparatively.

He made his way through the dusty alley when he noticed that it was now home to the vagabond preacher who usually made noises in the marketplace with his preachings of prophecy that spelled the end of days and other such nonsense. 

People usually let his words flow from one ear and out the other.

I was beginning to wonder if he had gone to another part of town to trouble the other people who reside in this area of the wall, but he just decided to make his nest here. 

Lovell quickly threw a glance at the old vagrant and proceeded past him without much care. 

As he walked right beside him, the vagrant's bony arm quickly reached from the heap of rags he was under, and then he wrapped his fingers around Lovell's ankle and gripped it tightly. 

It was already surprising that he could move, let alone have such an iron grip.

With his face clearly showing displeasure, Lovell spoke with a cold tone towards the person whose head was by his feet as if insinuating he would stomp on him should he not comply.

"Let go."

His voice wasn't loud but could be heard clearly through the alley. 

The vagrant started to mumble to himself while holding Lovell's ankle, his voice grew quiet and then turned silent. 

His hand, suddenly having lost its strength, released its hold and Lovell was free from his hold. 

Not wanting anything to do with the old man anymore, Lovell decided to put as much distance between the two of them as quickly as he could. 

He proceeded through on without turning back to entertain the vagrant any longer. He then heard the sounds of laughter coming from his back where the old man was. 

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! 

What a wonderful color you have, boy. Who would have dared to think this? 

Your way home will be an interesting one for sure.

I really would have loved to have seen it, truly.

But I suppose fate has written a story neither of us could have predicted.

I have nothing to offer other than my inconsequential help."

Lovell listened to all of the vagrants ranting and dismissed it as the ravings of a madman.

Just my luck, this alley must be cursed for sure. I always find myself in the most annoying situations.

Lovell then continued on his way, more determined than ever to no longer be involved with the misfortune he met that day.

" No thanks, old man. Worry about yourself instead."

After the vagrant preacher's voice became nothing but a faint sound in the distance, Lovell finally allowed himself to relax. 

He had intended not to take too long on his quest to buy bread. Well, steal then buy bread.

He had to make a report of his findings at the hideout with the others. 

Unbeknownst to him, the corners of the vagrant's mouth were still curved upwards, and a mark had been imprinted on the ankle that had been touched. 

After exiting the alley, He made his way up a man-made path that led into the heart of a withered, dying forest.

His thoughts were racing as he was trying to recall the information he had collected from the street rats he had tasked with observing certain people. He reached for his pocket and took out a piece of paper that had been placed there by the hand from the market.

His mouth arched upwards when he read it.

...

Before he realized it, he was already in front of the shed that their group had decided would be their base of operations. 

From the structure and compartments inside, he had surmised that it once served as a storage unit during the war. 

Then again, his assumption could have been wrong but that didn't change the fact that it was abandoned when they had found it, and thus their occupation was completely justified. 

Well, at least to them it was. 

He made his way inside and was greeted by a few glares, accompanied by looks of indifference, and others completely failed to register him. 

Still the same loving looks they always greet me with, huh?

Well, at least they are consistent. 

Although he was among the weakest members of their little brigade, he had managed to become their vice-leader. 

Their behavior was to be expected, so he had never been bothered by it. Although he was among the weakest, that did not directly mean he was useless. 

His main job was to collect information, and he was about to demonstrate why exactly they couldn't do anything without him. 

Lovell made his way towards the leader of their group, who was seated on a log in the centre of the room. 

The young man was surprisingly healthy-looking despite him being a thief.

His expression was aloof, and every one of his actions radiated the aura of a hero. He was a little tall for a teenager, but that only served to make him stand out more. 

Lovell then offered him some bread, but was met with a swift refusal. 

"Give it to the others, I am a lot more interested in what you learned."

 Lovell then gave the bread he was holding to another member and proceeded to sit down next to the leader, Derek. 

Derek was not that bothered by this, but it only served to fuel the hatred and jealousy of the other members more. 

"I don't know how you got your information, but you were right, the mansion is owned by a Dreadborn."

Everyone changed their posture at the mention.

Lovell continued, "However, my informant reached out today and passed a message that the servants don't often come to the market for supplies. This leads me to believe that the Dreadborn does not live there currently and is somewhere else. This is probably the best chance we have of striking and taking what we can without having to face one of those monsters." 

The mood was uplifted and the dark room became a little brighter.

Derek was especially happy to hear such good news. He had been eyeing that mansion for the better part of four months, and his hunger had only grown since. 

Now was without a doubt the best chance to strike without meeting any resistance. 

"You always bring good news with you, Lovell. Ever since we ran from the orphanage, you have made sure every job was carefully planned and have always brought us success. When do we strike?"

Derek was asking just as a formality. Although he was the leader, Lovell was always responsible for the plans since Derek's style of confrontation always carried a huge risk. 

The two had already discussed it the night before and had agreed to strike that very night. 

"Of course, we strike tonight." 

Lovell said this just for the benefit of the other members since they were always more assured of success if the plan came from him rather than their leader. 

Although they didn't like him much, they still respected his ability to plot against others and dreaded the unlucky souls that were on the receiving ended of his schemes.

They instantly became excited at the proclamation and started shouting in joy and anticipation for the night they were about to have. 

Lovell rose from his seat and made another proclamation that only added fuel to the fire of desire in their hearts. 

He looked into the night that invited the thieves to wealth, Sleight of hand was preparing to ride on the blood of others.