Chapter 22: Little Thief Walking back with the wooden sword, Noah remembered Valeria’s parting words. "Take this with you. Repeat the stances I taught you as many times as you can. Your technique is still sloppy. Once you reach a good foundation, I’ll teach you the next stances." ... Noah rested the practice blade against his shoulder, feeling simultaneously ridiculous and oddly competent. The pose might look cringeworthy, but the sword was heavy, and it was the only pose that made him feel somewhat comfortable. The setting sun painted Esta’s cobblestone streets in amber and gold. Merchants closed up shop while taverns flared to life. I only sold two items today. One iced tea and a piece of bread... Not his most profitable day, but he’d gained something valuable—a life-saving skill that could be upgraded. Besides, his idle income would keep him comfortable for now. A thousand three hundred dollars a day was nothing to scoff at. Every muscle in his body protested as he turned a corner. ’I’m definitely going to be sore tomorrow,’ He grimaced at the thought, but he couldn’t do anything about it. His hand brushed against his jacket, encountering a familiar shape. The bread loaf! His eyes widened. I can’t believe I forgot about it. Valeria’s constant nagging had driven everything else from his mind. Noah pulled the loaf from his jacket, unwrapping it carefully. A bite would do wonders for his aching body. As he raised it to his mouth, a blur of motion caught his peripheral vision. Then...The bread vanished from his grasp. Eh? Noah blinked at his empty hand, momentarily confused. Then his eyes found the culprit—a small figure darting down an alley. A dwarf with... cat ears? The thief clutched Noah’s healing bread, his little legs pumping furiously as he fled. What the—? His mind failed to comprehend the scene for a split second before he realised what had happened. He’d been robbed by a child. A cat-child. "Hey! Come back here!" Noah shouted, taking off after the diminutive thief. The chase wove through back alleys and narrow passages. The cat-boy moved with the agility of a cat...obviously. The cat-boy slipped through gaps and darted around corners. But Noah’s longer stride gradually closed the distance. "Stop... running... You little..." Noah gasped between breaths. He had just finished an intense training session with Valeira that left his arms sore. The chase ended at a dead-end alley. The cat-boy whirled around, clutching the bread to his chest, black ears flattened against his head. His eyes, yellow and distinctly feline, darted desperately for escape routes. Noah approached cautiously, blocking the only exit. "Got you." The boy hissed, revealing tiny fangs. "Leave me alone!" "That’s my bread you stole." "I’m hungry!" the boy snapped, though his eyes betrayed a different emotion. Fear. "Then ask for food. Don’t steal it." The boy’s ears twitched defiantly. "Like humans would give food to a beast-kin." Noah lunged forward, but the boy ducked under his arm, slipping past. The chase resumed through the twilight streets, Noah’s muscles screaming in protest. This kid is going to kill me. Finally, another dead end. This time, Noah blocked the escape route more effectively, spreading his arms wide. "End of the line, kid." The boy looked up, eyeing the walls. Before Noah could react, the cat-boy leapt up, scaling the brick with unnatural agility. He perched on the edge of the roof, grinning triumphantly. "Nice try, human!" Despite Noah’s inability to catch the cat at the edge of the room, the cat-boy had no other place to go. They had reached a stalemate. Noah raised his wooden sword. "That bread is special. I’m going to count to three, and if you don’t return it, I’m calling the royal guards." The bravado vanished instantly from the boy’s face. His ears flattened completely. "One..." The boy’s eyes darted frantically, trying to find a place to run. But there was none. "Two..." "Wait!" he cried, scrambling back down the wall with surprising speed. "Please don’t call the guards!" "Why shouldn’t I?" The boy’s lower lip trembled. "They’ll send us back." "Back where?" "To Master Vorren’s estate." The words came out as barely a whisper. "The slave pens." Noah’s raised sword lowered slowly. "Slave pens?" The dam broke. Words poured from the small cat-boy, accompanied by silent tears that matted his fur. "Me and my sister escaped three days ago. The guards are looking for us. My sister got sick during our escape. She’s hiding and can’t move much, and I couldn’t find food, and humans won’t sell to beast-kin without coin and—" "Slow down," Noah interrupted. "Your sister...how old is she?" The boy sniffled. "Nineteen summers. I’m only nine." "And she’s sick?" He nodded miserably. "Feverish. Coughing. She won’t wake up properly." Noah’s anger evaporated. He crouched to the boy’s level. "What’s your name?" "Kip." The boy clutched the bread tighter, as if expecting Noah to snatch it back. "I’m Noah." He smiled gently. "And that bread you stole? It’s special. It has healing magic." Kip’s ears perked up slightly. "Healing magic?" "It might help your sister." Noah stood, brushing dirt from his knees. "Take me to her." The hopeful light in Kip’s eyes extinguished instantly. His pupils narrowed to slits. "No! You want to capture us!" He backed away. "Turn us in for the bounty!" "Kip, I promise—" "Humans always lie!" The fur along his arms bristled. "You just want to make us slaves again!" Noah raised his hands placatingly. "I want to help your sister. My bread is magical—it helps people heal faster." Kip’s tail lashed back and forth, conflict playing across his young face. "If you really want to help," he countered, "give me the bread and let me take it to her. You don’t need to come."