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Ryten sighed staring into the red hot burning coals, watching the way the blue flame danced back and forth, growing tall as the air fed into them. The warmth and comfort from the fire pushing back the freezing cold outside in the rookery. His calloused toes digging into the dirt floor beneath him, packed hard after years of constant movement in the shop. Glancing around he saw the dozens of hinges and decorations hand forged iron where they replaced the magnificent swords and shields of the old age. Those kinds of weapons had no place here anymore in the era of revolution, at least that's what chancellor Adair said.

"And that is why the sword was considered the missing part of man's soul. The final piece of his syjaal" The old man smacked the broad side of the blade against his anvil, causing it to bend as the resounding clang brought the young boy out of his daydream. "Were ye listnin to a word I said?" Karm stood up straight, folding his thick arms as he stared down at Ryten as the boy bowed his head. Chuckling into his gruff beard the towering man set him hammer down "Then I'm guessin' we call 'er done for the day, ey? Just make sure yer in early tomorrah to clean tha forge"

Ryten beamed while holding back a laugh. His masters accent and kindness never failed to make him smile. "Yes sir, I'll be here extra early tomorrow!" The boy threw on his thick wool cloak and sprinted out the door into the dusty streets. Maybe if he ran fast enough he would be able to make it to the shelter before all of the free bread for the day was gone. He only had three coppers left until he earned his pay for the week from Karm, and he had to give five coppers to Esera for the food he took last week. A sound in the alley behind him made him stop, a trash can falling over? Suddenly the world flipped around, the cold dirt against his back and cloudy gray sky above him.

"Hey look who it is. The poor little freak who can't let go of dead mommy's stories" Woolf stood above Ryten as the rest of his friends circled the two all of them laughing. Woolf had always been a bully. He had nothing better to do in his free time than to wander the rookery picking on anyone less fortunate than himself. The teen's considerable size and his family's status in the main city meant that no one ever tried to stop him either. "What are you going to do little Rotten. Are you gonna cry?" Woolf pointed and laughed as the smaller young boy struggled slowly to his feet. Suddenly, a sharp pain covered his face and he rocked back on his heels, the tang of metal tasting blood just barely touching his tongue.

"Shut up you fat son-of-a-bitch!" Ryten's voice didn't sound the same in his own ears. He clenched his hand into a fist feeling himself filling with rage as he leapt forward punching as hard as he could right for the towering teen's nose. With a loud pop his fist connected and he stood for a second filled with joy. He stood up for himself! The moment quickly faded as the realization of what had just occurred set in. The look on Woolf's face changed from surprise to rage faster than Ryten would have thought possible. He did the only thing he could think of, he ran.

Being much smaller and thinner, and getting a fairly long head start, Ryten was confident in his ability to lose the group that was quickly falling behind. He looked over his shoulder seeing the chubby Woolf slowing down, his face red with effort. Another advantage was the new age clothing of people from the main city was not as suited to running and work as clothing from their not so distant past. Woolf's tighter fitting trousers and many layers of undershirts and coats that Ryten couldn't even begin to name restricted his movement and left him a sweating, panting mess in the middle of the crowd. Meanwhile Ryten's baggy smooth cotton pants and cloak allowed a free range of movement, slipping between people and jumping over boxes as he fled.

Woolf bent over, hands on his knees, in the middle of the crowded street as people walked wide out around him. "I won't forget this Rotten! You better watch your back!" Ryten sighed slowing to a walk to catch his breath, knowing for now that he was safe. What had he just done? Was he insane? He knew that he would have to face Woolf again, and next time would be the worst beating so far. At least he still had time to make it to the shelter still. Somehow he had to come up with two more coppers by the end of tomorrow.