18 Marketplace

Dashing through the streets clutching his most recent acquisition, Zephyr darted into the narrow alleys, veering off course twice to shake off those trailing him. His tail was concealed within his trousers, and his hood pulled securely over his head, yet if his pursuers confronted him directly, they would discern he was a Slinktail. This skill kept Zephyrion, the Slinktail who owned this body before he possessed it, from being killed. 

However, Zephyr was uncertain if that kept him totally safe. Draegorths didn't care about the Slinktails, which was made even more certain the day he was left behind to die in the woods and when they allowed Dain to kill one of their own to join the gang. Arikig, the other Slinktail, only managed to return to their camp after days away, hobbling with his injuries and having a high fever. He was close to death until Zephyr returned with some herbs Fig told him to take from the local apothecary. 

As he delved deeper into unfamiliar streets, the shouts of his pursuers gradually faded into the distance. Though unknown with these alleys, the Slinktail possessed a knack for evading those trailing him and had nimble fingers that couldn't resist the temptation of unguarded coin purses left out in the open. Some individuals were too complacent, believing their belongings were safe from theft. 

This time, though, he had taken more than just a handful of coins, his greed risking the weight distribution of coins, alerting the few of the men he pilfered from. The risk was worth it, though. Zephyr needed the exercise, the thrill and excitement a bonus, on top of the necessity of the extra coin to pay Dain for his teachings. 

Ahead were some crates piled against a wall. Zephyr took the opportunity to climb them swiftly, his foot slipping slightly on some frost before he jumped a short distance to the roof. After straining himself to pull his body up to the rooftop and drag himself over, the Slinktail rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. 

His stamina had improved from his routine of daily thieving and fighting with Dain, but his malnourished body had yet to recover. When Maz wasn't watching over him, Zephyr would steal food for himself, and he had been growing stronger from it. But it wasn't enough. Yet.

"Meh…" Zephyr wheezed, nonchalantly waving a hand above his head as he stared at the grey sky. 

Once his breathing was under control, he moved into a crouch, assessing his surroundings before pulling out some dried, salty meat he had stolen earlier. He people-watched and began drawing out a map of the streets in his mind. Zephyr wouldn't return to this village for a while, but his memory was decent, and once he knew the layout of a place, it was stuck in his head.

This village was larger than some of the others, so it was easier to steal, but the villagers might be wary if rumours circulated about a thief. Stealing wasn't uncommon, but he didn't want unnecessary attention, making his life harder than it was.

After running along the rooftops, Zephyr stopped at the nearest roof to the crowded marketplace. There, across from him on the ground, Maz stood, his large minotaur frame standing out among the crowd. Here, there were primarily humans, either passing through or the dwarves working hard in the stalls or mainly in the blacksmith workshops. 

Zephyr was about to hop down and meet up with the Draegorth, who caused the crowd to give him a wide berth, but he suddenly grabbed a man passing by who walked a little closer to him than the others. Zephyr cocked his head to the side, watching their interaction. The man hadn't been that much closer than the others, but the short-tempered bull lost his shit. Again.

It was apparent Maz wasn't pleased by the human's arrogance walking so close to him. The minotaur might be the only Draegorth currently in the area but he wasn't in the Valorian empire. Ignoring the human's pleas he dragged him by the neck and threw him across the ground in the alley. The snow had a long outline where the man skidded through it. 

Those passing by stopped momentarily, some grabbing weapons until they saw the Draegorth stomp his foot once in the man's chest and ripping his heart from his chest, tossing it to the side. Maz grabbed another man who aimed his musket at the creature, bent the weapon and yanked it and the man towards him, lifting him until his feet dangled and his hands flailed, trying to get the Draegorth's large hand to release him. 

It was a pathetic and pointless attempt, really. He cried out, but Maz's glare over the man's shoulder stopped those watching and attempting to come to the man's aid. They instantly scampered away from the area. He snorted, blows of smoke curling around the man before he slammed him into one of the wooden beams of the building beside him. The side of his head was crushed, but Maz wasn't done.

Zephyr dropped down from the rooftop and sauntered towards the small alley, stopping at the far end, staring at the blood stains in the snow and the minotaur that began to torture the man with one of his claws scraping through his clothes and across his skin. Zephyr raised his hands and smirked when Maz abruptly turned again, fist-raising until he saw it was the Slinktail he'd been waiting for. 

Ignoring the man's pleas and the sound of Maz's claws slicing through the man's skin and organs, Zephyr asked casually, "Won't that cause issues for us?"

Maz smirked, his eyes remaining on the human that was still alive, pleading for death. His eyes gleamed at the man and a thrum of energy pulsed from the Draegorth as the wind suddenly stirred, making the trinkets on a nearby market stall to chime before it fell silent again. This wasn't the first time Zephyr had seen Maz kill a human for no reason other than existing, and each time this dark surge of energy would emanate from him. 

Zephyr didn't know what it meant yet. It was clear Maz didn't want Zephyr to witness his attacks, and now he didn't seem to give a damn. 

"For you, maybe," Maz smirked. "Not me."

Obviously not. Everyone nearby steered clear of this alley now. The man's cries were gradually becoming weaker, but Maz remained, almost in a trance, to continue his torture until blood loss would kill him.

Maz and the others might seem invincible, but Zephyr knew that wasn't the case. With enough numbers and weapons, the Draegorths could quite easily be defeated. One was even taken and left injured in the cart that would have taken the Slinktails to the Valorian empire. Zephyr kept that little information to himself, though. They probably knew this yet still attacked those in broad daylight. 

Besides handing over what he'd stolen that day, Maz didn't do much other than torment others verbally or physically while waiting for Zephyr. It had become part of their routine, and he swore it was more than Maz simply letting off steam or casually killing humans because he could.

"I'm going to see if I can get anymore," Zephyr informed Maz, holding out a cloth for the Draegorth to wipe his bloody hands as he walked away from the mangled body behind him.

Maz grunted in response. He knew Zephyr would wander off to do his own bidding. Garzon wasn't pleased with this when the minotaur first allowed it, but gradually, he'd gained an inkling of their trust. Or that was his imagination because, realistically, it wouldn't make sense if they did trust him- even by a smidgen.

"You have yet to return to the forest," Maz smirked at him as he discarded the bloodied rag to the side. "I'm starting to think it was pure luck you survived."

"Why don't you think it was my fighting skills?" Zephyr humoured him.

Maz snorted, "At least some form of survival skills."

"I'll come again soon. Garzon has made this a priority first." Luckily for him, there was no way he would survive another day in that dreaded forest. What would happen if he ran into Naexi again?

Maz hummed in agreement before accepting a few bags of coins Zephyr stole, along with some jewellery and other finer pieces that could be traded. He couldn't fathom how they managed to sell it. Who would willingly approach a Draegorth? 

He was only 'allowed' to run off now freely because he always returned with more goods. What they didn't know was that for two hours of that time, Dain trained him up, which was where he was now heading. Along the way, he managed to steal from another blacksmith, this time taking another sword, a bow, and a quiver. He held no more guilt about a simple task; it was all for his survival. 

The fat dwarf running after him didn't need these weapons or the coin he would receive. Otherwise, he wouldn't be greedy enough to overeat now.