The Paths to Oraj

  Chapter 2

  The Bustling City

  The city bustled with people going about their daily routine, adding a loud and hectic pace to the silent, motionless buildings that rose into the sky everywhere. The buildings were giants to an eight-year-old boy, harsh and gray against the blue, cloudless expanse beyond. Kortin looked up at these giants and thought maybe one day they really would come to life and use their long legs to walk out of the city, leaving behind all the bustling people with no where to bustle to.

  Kortin had never been outside the walls of Rivel. He had been born here, his family was here, and with all likelihood this was where his life would always be. Unless of course he had his way.  

  There was so much of the world Kortin had only heard about but had never seen; the Sols to the West, the Naalym to the South, and not to mention the six other Realms of the Human race. His father had told him stories about the land to the North, but that was the beginning of Kurad country and not really anyplace Kortin wanted to visit. He might have to one day, though, if he followed in his father’s footsteps and became a soldier in the Lord’s army. But that life seemed hard. 

  Kortin only saw his father a couple times a year, and it was never for very long. But his father explained that someone had to defend Livinthia from the Shadow. Kortin always wondered why it had to be his father who did the defending, but he had never really understood the answer.  

  Today, Kortin was among the bustling crowds of the city with his brother. His older brother to be more exact. Tareth was three years older than Kortin and had blonde hair to Kortin’s brown. Kortin had two sisters as well, both younger, but they were back home with their mother at the squalor living quarters the five of them tried to share. A soldier’s life did not provide much in terms of compensation for a family, and even as young as he was, Kortin knew it. He could see the difference between his home and those of the kids who lived towards the center of the city. They had never gone days at a time without food as they watched their mother wait for the attendant from the Castle’s Keep to bring the small coinpurse of gold that was their father’s monthly wages. 

  During these times, Kortin always wondered why they needed the gold in the first place. Once they had the gold, his mother would spend it on items that vendors had brought into the city from outside the city walls. But if that was the case, Kortin thought it would be more logical just to go outside the walls and get the items themselves rather than pay someone else. But his mother told him it was dangerous to go outside the walls, and even if he did, she reminded him that he didn’t know how to hunt or track or harvest crops. Kortin would always then ask himself why wasn’t that what they were teaching him in school. But he didn’t mention this to his mother because he knew how important she thought his education was.  

  Kortin and his brother weren’t in school today though. Tareth had convinced Kortin that they needed the day off. This didn’t happen very often, but it happened enough that Kortin had gotten used to it. He wasn’t sure how Tareth did it, but before Kortin knew it, he was nodding his head and thinking what a great idea it was. Of course, he always felt guilty when they returned home and lied to their mother about the great day they’d had in school. But Tareth never seemed to have a problem with it, so Kortin tried not to either.  

  “Alright, so you know what to do if you see the Patrol, right?” Tareth was asking.  

  Kortin nodded. “Yep. Like this.” Kortin put his hands to his mouth and tried to imitate the same bird call his brother had just shown him, but it came out more like an eight-year-old boy shouting at the top of his lungs than a bird call.

  “Good enough,” Tareth said, quickly taking Kortin by the arm to stop him from drawing anymore attention from the passersby. But then he smiled. “This is going to be fun. Be back before you know it.”

  Kortin watched his brother hurry out of the alley they had been hiding in and make his way along the side of the road towards the vendor’s cart that was their target. The cart sold fruit and vegetables, and from the looks of the overweight, balding vendor manning the cart, this would be an easy job for Tareth. Kortin knew his brother was good at what he did, even though Kortin had never thought it was the right thing to be doing. But the idea of extra food in his belly always seemed to overrun any doubts he had. 

  Kortin watched his brother another moment before swiveling his head to make sure the City Patrol wasn’t anywhere near. Rivel was one of the safest cities in the Seven Realms because of the strict punishments the Courts handed out to people who were caught committing a crime. It made Kortin wonder why he was always the lookout. With his height restriction, his vision was limited to about five feet in a crowd like this. But Tareth had never even come close to being caught before, so Kortin wasn’t really worried.

  Just in case though, Kortin looked around and noticed an overturned barrel nearby. He made his way over to it and began pulling himself up to help give him a better vantage point.  He had only just reached the top, however, when suddenly a crash and commotion hit his ears.

  He turned and saw Tareth sprinting towards him with an armful of stolen goods. Behind his brother, the vendor’s cart lay sideways on the ground and the vendor himself was waving his arms frantically. 

  “Stop that kid! Someone stop him! Call the Patrol! Call the Patrol!”

  Tareth reached Kortin out of breath. “Get off that thing! Run! Run!”

  Kortin hesitated only a moment before jumping off the barrel. He hit the ground and fell, scrapping his hands and knees. But Tareth was already ahead of him, so he pushed himself off the ground and ran for his life.  

  The vendor was still screaming when Kortin followed Tareth into a alley. They ran through the long shadows of the buildings to either side and into the next street, which was just as busy. There, they paused briefly. Kortin looked up at his brother and saw a grin on Tareth’s face.

  “Why are you smiling?” Kortin demanded. “They’re going to throw us in the dungeons for sure.  How would we explain that to ma?”

  “Oh please, like that old man will be able to catch us,” Tareth laughed.

  “Hey, you kids! Stop right there!”

  The two brothers spun around just as the armored Patrol stepped into the far side of the alley.  

  “Don’t move,” the lead Patrol commanded.

  Kortin glanced at his brother. Tareth no longer had a smile on his face, but Kortin knew his brother wasn’t going to stay put.

  “Here we go, Kort. Ready?”

  Kortin nodded.  

  They both turned at the exact same time and ran. They heard the shouts and pursuit of the Patrol as they pushed their way across the crowded street to the other side. Tareth then led them around one corner and then another. Kortin followed, having no doubt that his brother would get them out of this with no trouble. 

  But suddenly, his brother was skidding to a stop. Kortin nearly ran into him as he stopped as well. And then he saw where they were. A dead end. His brother had led them down an alley that had no exit. 

  There was one door at the end of the alley, but try as he might, Tareth couldn’t get it to budge. And for the first time, Kortin actually saw fear in his brother’s eyes.

  The entrance to the alley looked so far away from where they were. In the street, the crowd bustled by, lit brightly by the afternoon sun, but in the alley, they were trapped in the darkness of the shadows all around. 

  “What’re we going to do?!” Kortin nearly shouted. “They’ll be waiting for us right outside the alley! We’re trapped!”

  Tareth didn’t respond for a moment, and that’s when Kortin really got scared. But then Tareth turned to him and his smile was back, though there was still tension in his eyes. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”

  Tareth immediately went over to an empty crate that was leaning against the side of the alley and began kicking it violently. Kortin watched, wondering if Tareth really had an idea or was just releasing his anger on
this old crate. But when Tareth had finished destroying one whole side of the wooden crate, he stopped.

  “Alright, Kort. Get down on the ground over here.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just do it, will ya?”

  Kortin didn’t like this one bit, but he complied to his brother’s request.

  “And take this.” Tareth unloaded the fruits and vegetables he had stolen on the ground next to Kortin. “Tell mom at least she’ll have one less mouth to feed for awhile.”

  Before Kortin could protest, his brother had already heaved the crate off the ground and set it down on top of Kortin. The broken side provided a perfect opening and suddenly Kortin was inside the crate looking through a small slit between the wooden boards. Then Tareth’s face filled Kortin’s vision.  

  “Be back before you know it, Kort.” He had a grin on his face as he turned and ran off down the alley.  

  Kortin watched his brother go, thinking as he did maybe his brother would be able to evade the Patrol and get lost in the crowd. There was still that hope until Tareth reached the end of the alley.

  Tareth was just entering the street when three of the men from the Patrol grabbed him and wrestled him roughly to the ground. Kortin watched in horror. He could hear his brother screaming and cursing as he tried to fight off the men, but of course, it was in vain. The Patrol shackled him right there at the end of the alley and dragged him through the dirt and out of sight.  

  Then there was just the bustling crowd. His brother was gone and that was it. People still flowed by in the street, still brightly lit by the afternoon sun, but Tareth was nowhere to be seen. The city had taken his brother. The city had dragged him away.  

  Kortin hung his head and let tears fill his eyes. As he wept in his hiding place under that crate, Kortin finally realized something with absolute certainty. Something he had felt for a long time, but only now was able to put into words as a definite statement of fact. I don’t belong in the bustling city.