The market blazed with the smell of fish, so much that anyone who entered and left would come out smelling like one had been slapped by a large trout. It almost felt like it too. Any foreigner would have likely to been appalled by Trajen’s largest fish market, located in the country’s capital. Luckily, Iriotas was no stranger to this place, as it was an ample hunting ground for loose change and money sacks. The fish smell didn’t bother him though he didn’t like eating them, an oddball one would say in an area where one of the main food sources was fish. He was mostly scouring for one of the rouge bakeries on the edges of the market, which pleased him more than this congregation of fins.

Iriotas recollected from memory that today he had swiped about three silver pieces, a couple of pennies and a gold coin. Should be enough for him and his mother, as well as a friend. He briskly danced through the crowds, avoiding contact with others as much as possible lest one recognize him from before. Through a break in the crowd he took note of some elf get shoved back from a vendor’s stand. Apparently he hadn’t paid the right amount for his goods, only paying the basic price, while not including the outrageous tax on elves that would make a prince cry. Iriotas let out a laugh and hurried on. Those elves should know better and go back to their home country where they wouldn’t bother us humans, he thought to himself, Or at least to the pathetic half-elf haven in Holnd. Indeed it was custom in Trajen to look down on the elves, but not like they could to anything to stop it. There are too few of them here, and strict laws against them. That elf back there would have a hard time finding just a place to rest. He might find a secluded alley or something. The elven sanctuary to the south-east would be the best place for him. Some silly acolytes started that up decades ago to help the persecuted elves.

Though laughing at elves gave him a brief detour from his current objective, he stayed mostly focused on his set path. Lykol was a large city, and it took a long time to traverse it on foot. He’d be lucky if he made it back before sunset.

The fresh waft of bread rolls and pastries began to intermingle with the stench of the fish, and Iriotas soon came upon the Thirteen Bakers, a smaller development of twelve bakeries spread along this intersection of roads. Each baker had a fine showing of assorted breads and wares. There was a sort of friendly competition here, seeing as all yearned to make the highest Ennz numbers, yet they had all grown to be friendly and mostly shared in the profits. One particular one that Iriotas liked was Falz, a tough looking bread-master with a soft heart for children. Hence why Iriotas liked him so much. He always got away with good prices even though they were naturally lower anyways.

Some of the bakers called out to him with their offers, but he blew them off, quickly walking straight for Falz. “Heya, look‘ere who’s back. This ‘e yer third time th’s week.” Iriotas nodded and greeted back.

“Yeah, I’m just going to get what I usually get. But this time, throw in a sweet-roll.” Iriotas eyed the various pastries and breads laying about the store, as well as the oven which gave off a brilliant scent of fresh bread that mixed with the already present aroma to make him almost on his toes. Falz had run to the back for a sack Iriotas could use to carry it all, and while he did, he swiped and extra roll, small enough that he wouldn’t notice.

He retuned with the sack and filled it with the various items that belonged to Iriotas’s “normal package.” Falz lifted the bag over to him and Iriotas handed over the money he had, knowing it should be enough. Falz smiled and laughed, “Goo’ day be to ye,’” as Iriotas left, slipping the extra loaf into the bag.

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Iriotas had wound his way back through the market, leaving the fish and all its smell behind him, save what stuck to his clothes, but the fresh aroma of the bread helped subdue it. His normal path was too the north, though half-way there, he took a detour through a side alley. He promised his friend he’d get her some food as well. She as well lived in a lower-class area, at least since her parents had lost all their money, which afterwards her mother committed suicide. Her father spends all his time at the docks working for piddle amounts of money that can barely feed his self, while she received scraps that would leave a mouse hungry for more. They used to live close to him, as their parents had been friends, though now not as much, due to constant begging for money, which his mother could not provide them.

Their house as Iriotas approached it for the latest time, which currently his visits would be uncountable, was as shabby, if not in worse condition than every time before. There were no shutters and the door was laughable, so it provided as much privacy as a toilet in the middle of the road. Lest they were safe from thieves though, as valuables, they had none. A peachy head of hair that had been left unkempt for some time filled the westward window in the waning sunlight, to turn and see Iriotas. The eyes on it sparkled in both hunger and happiness. She quickly ran to the little door and swung it open, almost tearing it off its hinges.

“Iri!” She chanted out melodiously, “Iri’s here with food!” She ran up to him and embraced him tightly.

“Sis! Ow! Let go!” Iriotas yelped. Sisnya, or “Sis” as he called her for short, first glanced at him, then the sack of warm bread against her leg. She eagerly pulled him inside and shut the door more carefully than she had opened it, yet it still called out in agony.

He pulled open the sack’s drawstring and reached in to grab one of the chunks of bread, and barely after he had removed it, Sis snagged it out of his hand like a hungry rodent. Iriotas studied her for awhile, and noticed that she had grown thinner and her cheeks had become sunken, almost like little bowls. He also found his eyes wandering to her more feminine features, but he quickly snapped himself back. It pained him to see her like this, but there intervals of bringing food were all that he could muster.

She had quickly finished the bread, and all the while not leaving a crumb, lest there’d be competition with the rats. “Iri, I don’t know how I can thank you enough for all this food. I thought that with our parents estranged from each other, I’d never see you again, but you’ve come through for me all this time, and my gratitude is endless.”

Iriotas usually didn’t take the thanks that was given to him, and that applied even now. “No problem,” he stated, “All of it was free on my part.”

“Iri, I don’t want you to have to push yourself too hard just for my sake,” She looked in his eyes with her own, still full of hunger, “But I promise you this. I’ll grow up to be a fine politician, and when I do, I’ll use anything in my power to repay you in full and over what you have done for me now.” That dream was a little wayward for a little peasant girl, and Iriotas took no heed to it and replied with a simple “Okay.”

He stood up and pulled on the back of his shirt to straighten it out, “Well, it’s late and I should be going-” he spoke as he reached down to grab the bag, but the small, cold hands wrapped around his arm.

“Iri, my father isn’t going to be back tonight. You can stay here and leave in the morning.” Her gaze bored at him with a hopeful stare, and he was reluctant.

“My mother expects me home with this food. She still has to have dinner.” He tried to resist looking in her eyes.

“But Iri…I’m sure you can think of something to tell her on the way home. I’ll even let you sleep on the bed.” A bed would have been too normal to be in that home, and it consisted of a layer of two thin blankets and a wadded up cloth for the pillow.

“I…uh..I…I’ll stay,” he said, giving in, “But you keep the bed.” The bread would be cold and hard in the morning. Ah well, just a price to pay…he guessed.

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Iriotas awoke early the next morning, with the rising eastern sun. The light poured in due to the lack of closure on the windows. He stood up quickly and got ready to leave, and lifted up the sack and peaked inside. His mind then flashed to thinking up some sort of excuse, and only one believable one came to him. He removed his personal money pouch and threw it to the floor next to Sis with the jingle of silver and some pennies. Setting down the bread sack quickly, he swung open the door with a loud screech and left hastily for his own home.

The houses grew larger and more kept as he walked on, though it was still only middle class, he was privileged compared to Sisnya. The second part of his plan, he ducked into an alley, and made sure no one was near, and then flung himself into the wall. He fell back with his head and side reeling in pain, but still he got up. His fist clenched into a ball, and he swung it at his cheek, hopefully leaving a bruise. Then he grabbed his sleeve and tore it so that it just barely hung to his torso. His cheek began to throb endlessly as he snatched a handful of dirt and matted it into his hair, then shook most of it out. Perhaps being mugged would be an excuse enough for his absence and lack of food and money.

He pulled out of the alley and began shuffling home as best he could.

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Sisnya awoke several hours later, he eyes wide with what lay before her, Iriotas’s money and the bag of bread. She got onto her knees, with her eyes tearing up. First reaching for the money pouch, she yelped at how much he had left her. It was the most she had had at one time in a long time. She then crawled over to the money sack, like stalking her prey, and thrust her arm inside. Even though it was cold and hard, her body welcomed the food with wide open arms. Her stomach rejoiced and she cried.

“Iri…Iri…Iri…I…I promised you I’d repay you. You always make it harder every time. I’ll...I’ll make it up to you some..somehow.”

But then she remembered that her father would be here soon. With all this stuff here, he would question, and not like the fact that Iriotas had been here. Then he’d rant about how she was the one getting the help, while he had to slave away his days and nights. It was clear that she could not repay Iriotas as it currently was. She solemnly decided to take action. She found her best tunic condition-wise and changed into it quickly, packing the extras into the bag with the bread.

Pushing open the weak door, she looked out onto the world in a new perspective.

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It had been a day or so, and Iriotas knew that he had to take another trip to Sis’s. He started to roll off his bed, but took notice of a note lying next to his head, scribbled with some almost unreadable text:

“Iri…Iriotas. I won’t be here when you come back next time. Thank you for your help. I’ve decided to fulfill my dream, and repay you. Thank you for the boost you gave me. I’m sorry I’ll be leaving from you for so long, but I know that this time is better spent with you not having to be burdened by my weight. I’ll come back to you, and I’ll spill my most valuable possessions on you until I believe you are accounted for. You’ve saved me from my fate, and spun me onto a new one, and for that, I can’t repay in any way but with my thanks.

Farewell, Iriotas.”

Iriotas cocked an eyebrow at the letter, “Stupid woman…I mean, girl.” He didn’t think she’d have the perseverance to survive, and that she would eventually be back. But months past and she had not returned. In part of him, hope fluttered for her.

A year later, on the eve of his sixteenth birth year, an anonymous letter came to the door. He stuck it next to the first one she had wrote.