"Stop right there, you thieving spawns of a syphilitic whore!"
A fat man in a grimy, brass-buttoned kaftan yelled at the two thieves he was chasing after.
One of the thieves appeared to be male, while the other was female, and both seemed to be of the same age. They were dressed in dirty, threadbare tunics under heavy black coats, and both wore gray newsboy caps pulled low over their eyes.
The boy turned to look back. When he saw that the fat man was almost upon them, he reached out and grabbed his sister's hand, then tugged her forward even faster.
"This way," he said as he veered into a narrow, slush-filled alleyway.
After running a short distance, he ducked into another side street leading to a raucous, gambling den. Before the man could catch sight of them again, they both hastily slipped into the noisy den.
The boy then quickly looked around to find a place to vanish. One section was filled with people drinking, another with people gambling, and another with people watching the aerialists perform acrobatic stunts as they dangled from long, scarlet silks suspended from the ceiling.
When the boy's eyes landed on the far end of the wooden bar, he could see a familiar red-haired woman in her early twenties, casually wiping down a glass with a red rag.
She caught his eye, and seeing how panicked and breathless he and his sister were, a frown creased her pale face. She then quickly signaled for them to come over.
The boy smiled and tugged his sister toward her. They squeezed through the crowd until they reached the woman, after which she quickly led them to a quiet, candlelit storage room tucked away from the roar of the main floor.
"What have you guys been up to now?" she asked, but neither of the siblings gave a reply.
Instead, they walked up to a table in the center of the cramped room. There, the boy took off a large brown burlap satchel and emptied the contents onto the table. Lots of gold coins, a heavy brass pocket watch, and silver cufflinks spilled out with a clatter, and his sister immediately began counting the coins with trembling hands.
"Gods!" The red-haired woman blurted in an accent, and her green eyes widened in a mix of awe and terror at the stolen fortune. "Where did you guys steal this?!"
She looked anxiously at the girl. "Yar?"
When Yar didn't answer, she turned to the boy. "Jesper?"
Jesper sighed, then said exasperatedly in the same accent, "Relax, Marie."
"What do you mean relax?!" Marie's voice trembled as she held up three fingers. "There are only three people, three! In the whole of Frankenfurt who could have that many gold coins in their possession. So unless you tell me which of those three monsters you stole this from, there is no way I can relax. And please, for the love of the gods, I hope that name is not Batiz."
Jesper took off his newsboy cap and began scratching his white hair frantically. Then he forced a smile and finally spoke with a hint of fear. "Don't be upset, okay? But we uh… we stole from Batiz."
"Fuck me!" Marie covered her mouth and began pacing the narrow floor.
After a few strides, she returned and leaned over to Jesper.
"Out of all the people you could have stolen from, Jesper, you chose to steal from the only Awakened in the sector? Are you mad? That shite bastard is not just any Awakened, but a Warlock! You know the Warlocks are more than demons in human skin!"
"We were careful and discreet," Jesper retorted. "We made sure that none of his men saw what we look like."
"Oh Lord, you dullard. What if he somehow manages to track you? He's a very spiteful fellow, that man. When he finds out that you both are the ones who stole from him, death would be the least of your worries." She stepped closer to him and looked him in the eye. "Tell me, is this really worth the risk?"
Without thinking about it, Jesper replied in all sincerity, "Yes! I would rather die a free man than live a slave!"
It was silent between them after that, and the atmosphere in the room was tense until Yar looked away from the coins and broke the silence in a scared voice.
"It's sixty… sixty imperial gold. That's more than enough gold for both of us to buy our freedom."
The room fell silent again, and Marie began to rub her temples. Eventually, she exhaled resignedly, pointed to the table and said, "First, you need to get rid of that pocket watch and the cufflinks. Discard them somewhere far away from here and far away from you. The farther away the better. If you keep them, no matter where you hide, he will find you or curse you with them. Do 'not' even try to sell them and just toss them away. You hear me?"
"Of course," Jesper chipped in, acting as if he already knew that.
Marie continued, "I'll take you guys through the back door. When you get out, head 'straight' to Nikolai. Once you buy your freedom, you need to leave Frankenfurt immediately and head to Dushbirsk or the Little Country. The Awakened who look after those sectors are the Druids and you know how well they hate the Warlocks. You can start a new life over there without having to worry about Batiz or his men."
Both Jesper and Yar nodded eagerly, and the hope of a new life momentarily overrode their fear.
Marie looked at them intensely for a brief moment, then said, "Wait here for me."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned around and quickly headed out of the storage room. Yar turned back to the table and shoved all the coins, the watch, and cufflinks back into the satchel, while Jesper began pacing the room impatiently.
As he pivoted on his heel near the heavy iron door, he took his round, wire-rimmed spectacles from the bridge of his nose. Then he wiped the fog of his breath from the lenses with the hem of his tunic before settling them back on.
Not long after, Marie returned with two heavy cloaks. She handed one to Yar, and as she passed the other to Jesper, she asked, "How many of Batiz's men chased you all the way?"
Jesper and his sister exchanged glances briefly before looking back at Marie. Then Jesper replied urgently, "We were able to lose all of them, save for one."
Marie clicked her tongue, before speaking in a lowered tone. "There's a fat ugly bastard asking questions in the den. I'm assuming he's the one. We need to be careful."
Both siblings nodded, pulling on their cloaks. When they were ready, Marie beckoned them to follow. The three of them moved out of the storage room and discreetly passed the main bar, slipping into the kitchen where the back door was located.
Once they got to it, both siblings turned around to Marie, then Jesper spoke in a quiet voice.
"Thank you… for everything, Marie."
He was truly grateful to her.
She had been his friend ever since he and his sister were first brought to this slum as slaves. When they knew no one and had nothing to eat, she was the one who shared her meager rations; when they were cold, she was the one who found them blankets; and when they were beaten, she was the one who tended their wounds.
Now that that they finally had a chance to buy their freedom, they would have to leave Frankenfurt immediately after for obvious reasons. Who knew if they would ever return to this place again?
Marie looked at them for a moment. She could see the flickering hope in their faces and the fear of the unknown behind their eyes. She smiled softly and said, "I'm really glad for you both. There's nothing greater than finally having the chance to buy your freedom out of that accursed slave's contract."
Jesper smiled.
Marie then stretched her hands out, "Come here both of you."
They both lunged into her embrace, burying their faces against her shoulder as if they were children again. Although they didn't stay there for long before Marie pulled back and whispered, "Now go quickly, and be careful. Gods keep you."
'Not that I'm much of a believer, but...' Both Jesper and Yar nodded, then turned away.
Jesper was the first to move to the door. He reached for the heavy iron latch, but just as he swung the door open, his eyes widened in horror.
Standing there with a wicked, rusted kindjal in his hand was one of Batiz's men.
The man was lean and really tall, and his eyes reflected the dim candlelight from the kitchen like a predator's. He grinned, showing teeth stained by cheap tobacco, and muttered, "Ah, I almost teared up while waiting for you guys to finish your little goodbye. Truly touching."
'I thought we lost them all except the fat man. Where did this one come from?!' Jesper's heart hammered against his ribs, and he took a trembling, cautious step back.
The lean man stepped forward and added with a serious expression, "Now, be good kids and don't try to run… don't try to struggle."
At that moment, Marie grabbed Jesper by the arm, pulling him behind her. Then she extended her arms wide to block the man's path, looked back at the siblings, and yelled, "Run!"
Hearing her voice, Jesper snapped out of his panicked trance. He grabbed his sister's hand and began bolting back toward the entrance of the kitchen.
Seeing that, the lean man frowned then stepped forward.
"Move aside, wretch," he snarled as he drove his blade deep into Marie's gut, making her linen chemise and heavy wool bodice suddenly stain a spreading crimson.
Marie let out a choked gasp, and her hands clawed at the man's tunic as she slumped, but she held on, using her final strength to anchor him in place.
Meanwhile, the siblings plunged into the common room, ignoring the startled crowd as they hurried toward the main door. But just as they were within reach of it, a thunderous gunshot echoed through the gambling den.
The roar of the patrons in the den died instantly, halting the siblings in their tracks. And then, a different voice, spoke from behind them.
"Take one more step, and I promise you, the next shot will leave a hole in your head."
The siblings, now frozen in fear, remained rooted to their spots, with their eyes looking at each other. Then, the man spoke again as he walked closer to them, "Now turn around slowly. I want to see the faces of the rats who made us chase them all the way out here."
A few tense seconds passed. Then slowly, the siblings began turning.
But just as Jesper was almost facing him, the heavy iron grip of the revolver slammed into the side of his head.
His reading glasses shattered and his world exploded in a white flash of pain. Jesper's knees buckled instantly, and he collapsed into the sawdust and spilled beer on the floor, with his ears ringing as the room spun wildly.
"Jesper!" Yar shrieked, reaching for him, but at that moment, the fat man pointed the smoking revolver directly at her chest.
"Quiet, lass," he sneered. "Unless you want to join your brother in the dirt."
He pulled a length of coarse hemp rope from his belt to bind her, but paused, waiting for his colleague who was now casually approaching them with a bloodied, dripping knife in his hand.
Meanwhile, Jesper's vision had gone blurry from the blow to his head. His eyelids grew heavy, and so he closed them.
But then, something really strange happened.
He began to hear the voices of strange but familiar people in his head.
The hushed tones, which sounded like whispers at first, slowly grew louder as the seconds went by. And by the time he could finally make out what they were actually saying, a violent flood of memories suddenly surged through him in a manner that threatened to tear his mind apart.
The shocking thing was that these memories were not his own. Instead, they were memories from another life.
***
…
..
.
He suddenly remembered another life in what looked like a different world where he was a part of a large Mafia family.
In that life, his name was Vincenzo, and he had grown up to be quite a very successful Italian man in his early forties.
From the connecting memories, it seemed that Vincenzo wasn't just any mobster but was apparently the Don of the Mafia and was even nicknamed the Godfather because of how big of an authority he was.
Jesper then suddenly remembered how Vincenzo was betrayed by Marcus, his second his command, who was practically like a son to him.
The man had lusted after his position and secretly bought out his most trusted brothers, after which he ambushed him in the office of his penthouse.
Of course, Vincenzo didn't go down easily. He fought like a madman, using whatever he could get his hands on as a weapon. He bashed his second-in-command's nose with the corner of his phone before plunging a gold-plated ballpoint pen into the man's eye and brain.
Then, using his gun, he took the life of several of the traitors. But unfortunately for him, there were just too many barrels pointed at his chest.
…Jesper finally remembered Vincenzo dying brutally under the heat of their bullets.
All of these memories overloaded his brain like a fever in fragments, completely overshadowing his current life as a slave. The few seconds of his life leading up to the moment his head was hit suddenly disappeared, and the moments leading up to Vincenzo's death overlapped them.
Since the new memories were so vivid, it felt like it was only a few seconds ago that he had died to Marcus's ambush.
Everything felt so real. He seemed to experience every emotion and every pain firsthand, putting him in a state of severe cognitive dissonance.
As his brain tried to resolve this conflict, seeing that he was currently in a dangerous position with the men belonging to Batiz, the personality of Vincenzo the Godfather suddenly took over as a defensive response to the threat.
In that moment, his blue eyes… snapped open.