Fate - First Reply A Theft

[Kyros]

VEL ANIR


​

The sun shined brightly above Vel Anir. The markets bustled with activity.

Off in one alleyway from a marketplace, a curiosity developed.

Or was ending, potentially.

BAM BAM BAM

In this otherwise empty corner of the city, Kyros stood over a lanky man.

BAM

And punched him.

BWAM

Repeatedly.

BAM

Blood covered Kyros’s knuckles. His blank face stared down on his victim.

“S-t-stop!” the man screamed. Blood covered one of this eyes as it poured from wounds on his forehead.

This stopped Kyros. He cocked a fist back as if ready to throw another jab.

“H-here!” the man said as he took out a small, hand-sized bag and presented it to Kyros. It jingled as Kyros took it.

The bleeding man whimpered and covered his head as Kyros continued to stare at him for a few more seconds.

And then, the Initiate backed away and began to walk back toward the market...

 

[Accolon]

"Kyros," someone said, in a rather serious tone.​

​

It was only Accolon, leaning against a wall right by the alleyway's entrance. As if he had been waiting patiently for someone engaged in an errand. His arms were folded, though he parted them briefly to run his fingers through his dark hair, combing it back.​

​

The morning market bustled ahead of him. None the wiser to the beaten down sap in the alley. But Accolon had apparently taken interest.​

​

"You've still got blood on your knuckles," he dryly observed, "You may want to clean yourself up before rejoining society."​

 

[Kyros]

Upon hearing Accolon’s words, Kyros looked up to look the fellow initiate in the eye. He then lifted his hand and examined his knuckles.

The man Kyros assaulted still sat on the ground whimpering in pain.

Kyros wiped the back of his hand against his dark colored pants. Kyros’s knuckles were revealed to sustain no injuries themselves.

After doing that, Kyros looked up toward Accolon. He stood in place as he strapped the purse strings to his belt.

He just kept his eyes on Accolon in almost unmoving silence, as if waiting for a response...

 

[Accolon]

Accolon's eyes flicked to the purse now on Kyros' belt, then back to the man himself. A condescending smirk tugged faintly at his lips, but ultimately failed to materialize. "Oh. Now I see. Tell me, Kyros: are you a common bandit or a Dreadlord?"​

 

[Kyros]

Kyros shifted his head. His glare sharpened upon Accolon after the fellow Initiate’s words. His relaxed stance then squared up – as if tensing his muscles.

“Initiate, just as you, Accolon,” Kyros coldly replied.

Standing tall, Kyros tilted his chin up. Arms sat at his side. No weapon appeared in his grasp, but the retractable knife gauntlets he normally wielded in the Academy were strapped to his wrists.

“What do you want?” Kyros asked.

 

[Accolon]

"Could have fooled me," he remarked.​

​

Accolon didn't stir, even as Kyros squared up in front of him. He wore the usual finery one would expect from the nobility, replete with a red shoulder-cape. There was a dagger in a richly decorated sheath strapped to his side - more of a status symbol than anything else.​

​

He didn't really suspect himself to be in danger. Why would he?​

​

His head tilted a bit as he watched Kyros expectantly, "I'd like to know why you're brutalizing merchants in broad daylight. Humor me, won't you?"​

 

[Kyros]

Kyros’s eyes narrowed at Accolon’s question.

The beaten man on the ground began to crawl away from Kryos – away from both his assaulter and Accolon.

“No merchants here,” Kyros told Accolon.

Kyros then glanced back.

“Only us, and a thief,” Kyros calmly claimed.

 

[Accolon]

Accolon didn't take much note the crawling man. He wasn't really that important in the grand scheme of things, even on the off-chance he was less laconic than Kyros here.​

​

"There's more money in that pouch than you'd know what to do with," he shot back, though it was only a guess, "I somehow doubt he got it from you. Be serious, Kyros. Who is he?"​

 

[Kyros]

A man Kyros accused of being a thief finally managed to get on his feet. He began to hobble away as he glanced back periodically at Kyros and Accolon. Unless stopped by either Initiate, it would not take long for him to disappear from view.

Kyros appeared not want anything more with the man. He turned his gaze back to Accolon. An eye twitched as Accolon seemed to not accept Kyros’s short explanation.

With a gesture of dismissal, Kyros asked, “Does my answer matter? Are you to do anything regardless?”

 

[Accolon]

"Of course it..." Accolon trailed off when Kyros' victim staggered between them and limped off into the market. He rolled his eyes. Terribly rude to cut through two people having a conversation like that.​

​

He did watch the man go for a moment, looking to see whether he was dressed like someone well-to-do or a luckless street rat. His dark eyes snapped back to Kyros after an instant.​

​

"I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet. I might make up my mind if you'd be a good sport and tell me what you're up to," Accolon offered a thin, wry smile, "We're both Initiates. Show a little espirit de corps, hm? You can trust me."​

 

[Kyros]

The beaten man that hobbled away sported simple clothing. Not rags. Not luxury. It would be typical of most peasants within Vel Anir.

“I’m leaving,” Kyros coldly announced.

Kyros’s behavior appeared to be no different than what Accolon may had witnessed before in the Academy. The white-haired Initiate spared few words, and little time for others. A true Dreadlord-in-training – unlike others that had built some comradery with each other in the days since the Anirian revolution.

Stepping forward, Kyros kept his eyes on Accolon. He would attempt to just walk forward and into the marketplace.

That is, unless Accolon did something to block his path.

 

[Accolon]

For a split-second genuine surprise crossed Accolon's face, "Leaving? So soon?" He couldn't help but scoff.​

​

Accolon didn't budge from his wall. He had better instincts than to directly impede Kyros.​

​

"Nobody ever got anywhere good in life without a friend, Kyros," he called after him, and his tone failed to disguise the fact that he was really quite offended to be written off in this manner, "You'd do well to remember that!"​

 

[Kyros]

Accolon's words seemed to stopped Kyros in his tracks. He turned his head back to place an eye back on his peer. Face still as blank as stone.

But Kyros then asked, "Don't you know what the last class did? When they graduated?"

Rumors were abound about what happened. Some Initiates killed each other. Killed Proctors. Defected to Gilram's rebels.

"What use is a friend in that case?" Kyros asked.