FSE

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"Where is he?!"

"Damnit he was just here!"

"WHERE THE HELL IS HE?!"

"...Idiots." I whisper. High atop this tree, I could see everything, every frightened stare, every misplaced step, and each frantic fur clutching thier coin pouches. It feels nice, knowing I caused all this chaos. And all it took, was for someone to notice me.

Master thief, escape artist, murderer, I've done them all. But do not fret , it has been weeks since my last murder. I have made quite a name for myself among bandits throughout these long years.

Except, I must admit, I do not really have a name to call myself. I have gone by Syrus, Maximus, Lorenzo, John, for a time I was a Fiona, well.. You get the idea. As of late, I have been called the Wolf of Misfortune, which is completely riduculous, I am an otter!

An otter thief, now doesn't that sound counter-intuitive. Admittedly, we are not built to be agile thieves, but when you see your family brutally murdered before your eyes as a pup, it calls for some improvisation. I taught myself the art of stealing, and I taught myself quickly. At 5, I could play hide and seek and need a mob to find me, at 7, I could swipe your coin pouch without you noticing, while we have a conversation, at 14, I was thrown in jail for stealing a royal Family's jeweled staff. To put it simply, I am the best at what I do.

I flick my ears as the sound of branches snapping. I hold my breath.

"Do not tell me you peasants allowed him to escape once more," bellowed a knight clad in expensive looking armor, probably a Blue Diamond by the way he tried to make himself sound more important.

"Sire, we had him here a-and then-" begged a peasant, whose coin pouch rested in my paw.

"And what?! You let him slip away when you had him surrounded?

"Gods no! We ju-"

A blade unsheathes, a gleam of finely refined steel reflecting the torchlight. I release my held breath, I am no longer an issue.

The crowd kneels quickly, stricken with fear. The gorgeous blade hovers beside the neck of a hysterical mouse, the one who had been talking to the knight.

"Give me one reason... Why I should not end your incompetence, right here, right now."

"Oh gods..." the mouse squeaked," Please.. My children.." He turned his head to see his wife, I assume, clutching two young boys, who could not exceed more than 5 years of age. The poor man's knees were shaking like the thinnest of branches, desperately trying to find solid ground.

"So.. The street rat has found another street rat, hrah!" he bellows, throwing his head to the sky to let out a hearty laugh. He looks down to the peasant, his eyes narrow

"Look me in the eyes when I speak to you, filth!"

He rises his gleaming sword, twists his wrist, and strikes the mouse with the flat side of his blade, knocking him to the ground. I keep myself from gripping my dagger too tightly, now was not the time to blow my cover. The mouse gasps for air on the ground, struggling to lift himself on his knees with his trembling arms. I grimace slightly at his determination to live through this ordeal, at his determination to keep himself from scarring his children.

"Y-yes sire! I apologi-" the mouse starts pants. His despeste ply is met by the shining underside of the knight's boot, throwing him backwards and, I hope, knocking him unconscious.

He tries to get up. Damn him.

"I did not ask for your apology you worthless scum! You truly do not deserve to live if you think I wanted it." He lifts up his sword again, twisting his wrist so the blade readies itself to remove the head of thd petrified mouse.

"Please..."

I have to move. Now.

I reach behind me back to find a throwing dagger in my pouch. I ignite the explosive-laced parchmebt at the end and watch the knight creep closer to the helpless mouse, each step loaded with disgusting swagger. Eyes on my mark, I launch the dagger between the feet of the Blue Diamond.

Dust is launched in the air. Panicked faces dive to the ground, clutching children, possessions, and yes, even clothing. I jump off the branch of the tree and roll into the shroud of dust. The knight is still clueless to what is happening, and the mouse still cannot move from fright. I reach for my dagger, and steady myself for the kill.

I grasp the back of his helmet, and thrust through his armor, skin, muscle, and spine, with pleasurable ease. He jerks momentarily, surprising due to the fact his spine had been severed, then falls to his knees, then kisses the floor, lifeless.

I remove my dagger from his body, and clean it with his own armor. I catch eye contact with the mouse, still in total disbelief at what has happened. A voice in my head tells me to reach for a coin purse, any coun purse. My paw, with a mind of its own, grasps the heaviest pouch. I sigh, and walk towards the mouse.

In the cover of dust, no one can see what I am doing, I look directly into the eyes of the mouse, his eyes grow even more wide in fright than from the Blue Diamond. I toss the coin pouch, and with a soft -clink- greets the lap of the mouse.

I crouch down to be at eye level with him, the poor thing breathing in sharp gasps.

"Never forget this day," I whisper to the mouse, gently caressing his face. He flinches at the intimate touch, which makes me smile, "Go home."

He lowers his head and closes his eyes,"Th-thank you.. But I thought you-"

I place a finger on his lips, gently silencing him, "Not everything is always what it seems."

I turn away from him, and run. I jump, catch a branch, and swing myself atop of it.

I fling from branch to branch, tree to tree, and soon enough, village to village. I never keep track of how far I can travel in several hours, but before I know, it I reach that familiar abondoned house that I call my home, basking in the moonlight and scent of the ocean.

I guess I should mention I am sort of a vigilante. Quite odd for a thief, I know, but allow me to explain.

I mentioned earlier... About my family. But they were not killed by a low-life bandit like myself, no, they were cornered, every escape cut off, by the White Lotus Family of New Zyra. My mother was the keeper of a dagger from legend so sharp, so honed, that steel could be stabbed through like silk, which if you have not guessed, is the very dagger I wield right now. My father was a curious man, his profession was not one commonly found, which made him an invaluable asset, and a large threat. He specialized in information, any information. Military tactics of each Family, the weak points of each Family's armor, every dirty secret of every political figure of New Zyra, he knew, and could use to his liking at any time.

New Zyra... The City of Hope, as they call it, is anything but. Corrupt politicians, Families who rule the city, and crime litter inside those golden walls. Outside of those walls, lays a time that can be compared to Mideival Times. But inside, those walls, lays a technological metropolis, where everyone wants to be remembered for something. Since the outlaw of firearms, new Zyra has, seemingly, become petfect Utopia.

I say seemingly, because the Families are what ruin this place.The Blue Diamonds, who make for more cruel thugs than I, are the leading military faction of the city. The Red Lilies, who I have no issues with, yet, dominate trade and communications. The Green Cog, the Family in charge of making sure New Zyra stays new Zyra, remains to themselves mostly, I havd had to, relieve, a few members of the Family for trying to re-create firearms. The Black Ingots, famous for thier diplomatic persuasion, rival the Red Lilies in political dominance. And then there is the White Lotus Family, the same faction that took my family from me. Many times have I been tempted to erase thier existence, one family for another, but I keep telling myself, New Zyra needs balance, because without the White Lotus education system, nothing would ever get done.

So here I wait, and watch. I find the weeds of this city, and remove them. The ones who try to think themselves higher than others, will be punished. Every wrong move, any action that echoes corruption, will be your last.

There is no mercy.