Food

It was happening. Crest, in the middle of the street. The world was running in its own flow around him. He saw a man in white pass by, a woman with blonde hair a while later.

This was it, no more waiting could be done. Just 2 liters of milk in his house; that was it and that would be done before the day ended.

"I cannot just stand by while my family starves," Crest said to himself. "All this life I have done nothing for my family. Now I need to, I cannot have them and myself starve to death. There is simply no possibility. I will live and I will keep my family alive."

"But how?" was the question that had been arising in his mind for the last week. Ever since he had been certain that he would find himself in this exact situation.

He was 15, surely he could labor for a day. Maybe arrogating the fields could earn him a few drachms, or he could mine some coal and return with some food at the end of the day.

"No, I cannot labor. I cannot be working for hours to get paid 2 drachm coins. I cannot even buy sufficient water with that." Crest told himself again.

He knew he was getting there, it was difficult and discomforting but no other way was apparent to him.

He knew he was ready, though not willing to accept it. He walked, his legs were feeling guilty to move for such an act. His virtues and morality had been crippled.

There was a small ledge in the wall. Crest slide the top of his shoe against it. The horse faced gargoyle, one he had used since childhood was just a little further. He pushed the stone button beneath it and water forced out.

Crest slapped the water onto his face and hair. It went inside his nose and gave the nauseating feeling, but felt fresh regardless.

He wiped the water off his long black hair and told himself, "This is no time for heroism, nor being a good guy. That is not going to feed me. I would rather be an alive thief than a dead hero. I have to do what I have to do."

Ferocity and determination ignited like fire in his eyes, this was it. Evil or not, good or bad, he needed to steal to eat.

He heard a small noise to his right. Four people held a single person and were taking him somewhere. Most probably the Blue Justice. Crest knew well that he could be the very person that was being taken. He could almost hear his mother's and sister's sobs. He could see their struggle to live without him. But none of that would matter if they would not be alive.

This had its risks, of course, but Crest had already decided the path.

"I need to stop speaking and start it." Crest told himself, he could see his reflection in the water from the gargoyle. Before leaving, he did not forget to shut the gargoyle.

He could not be stealing from a place nearby. That would mean the end of his quest before it began.

"Mother, Felna, just wait a little longer. I will be back with food." Crest spoke to himself again and walked off towards the left.

He walked well until he could not see any shop he knew, nor people. It was a different place, he knew he had never been there before.

Countless shops of clothes, quills and what not were lined up. Small stalls with nothing but a bamboo to hold the shed, to mansion like buildings that sold goods. This place was definitely a rich one, they even had guards outside. Any sneaky attempt here and Crest would earn himself a ticket to the Blue Justice.

"What place are we in sir?" He asked a pedestrian. The boy had little to no beard, he was fairly tall.

"This is the Central Market." The boy replied.

"Thank you." said Crest, but he was not thankful at all. This was the Central Market, the biggest place to shop in entire Fefarem. But regardless, he appreciated the way the person spoke.

He needed to change his way, a more desolate place would do for him right now. One that did not have many people roaming around, he needed to run and if there were people, they would suspect him.

While walking, he realized that he risked being chased by dogs as well. If the place was desolate enough, maybe he could push the shopkeeper hard enough and make a run. But a man with average muscle, it would be a lot more difficult.

He looked in all directions as he walked, looking for just the perfect shop in just the perfect place. This was harder than he expected, did they shift every shop to the middle of the street?

Crest was walking on, looking for a shop suitable for theft. He noticed a small entry way, it was slightly dark and the weather appeared a little gloomy in that place. Nobody was near or in the area. No one but the shopkeeper.

Just at the turning, a shop stood still and bless the gods, it was a place that sold foodstuffs. Just the perfect place, this could change the course of things. That solitary shop at the turning could be a life saver for his family.

Crest took his time, he did not rush it. Though the situations were dire, he was still prudent, conscious and careful. He walked past the store to check if the road was safe to run. The place was relatively narrower than the rest of the streets around Fefarem. Not too far from the shop, there were two roads. Crest went through each of the roads. The one on the right, led to a quieter place. Crest would need to run a little longer to get to a mainstream street from where he could get home.

The one on the left, directly led to a busier and bustling road. Where a lot of people were walking.

Crest had to make a run and just hope the shopkeeper went to the other direction.

He decided to run towards the busier street, then he could walk. No one would suspect him. Also, naturally the shopkeeper might believe that the thief ran towards the quieter road.

Crest took his steps back towards the shop. Now, when the moment was near, his heart started pounding. Fear engulfed him like a blanket, a blanket with thorns. Crest was like a wolf without an army, with an idea; yes but no one to support and seek help from.

He sat down on the bench before the shop on the turning. The one he had come to from the Central Market. It was on the other end of the street, he needed to cross the road to get to the shop.

Crest looked around, he looked at the shop again. Feelings he could not describe were arising in his chest. His hands were trembling, his heart was pounding faster. He wanted to turn around and go home.

"I simply cannot, I do not have the courage for this. I will have to find another way to get money, this stuff is not for someone like me."

As he stood up and began to walk, he stopped himself. His heart and brain were yelling at him to stop, to turn around and go home but his legs commanded him towards the shop.

This was the moment, this was it. Crest gathered up all of his anxiety and nervousness and put it aside, just for this moment as he spoke to the shopkeeper. He feared that his heart might actually be pounding hard enough for the shop owner to hear.

It was a man, his height was smaller the Crest's. He had a simple shirt on. Crest wondered if he could knock him on the floor and run away, but he had a better idea.

He needed to force out the words now, "10 Iced Chickens and a liter of sugarcane juice and sour juice."

"Alright." The main said, he brought 10 rectangles of ice that had boneless brown chicken concealed within, and two large bottles, one of the sugarcane juice, brown and a green one of the sour juice. He placed it on the table, the barricade between the customer and his shop.

Crest looked around, he needed food to last at least for a week.

"Also, 30 apples, oranges and bananas. Along with that, a dozen tailed fish, 4 loaves of bread. 10 kilograms of rice, 8 kilograms of riverside lentils, potatoes and corn, and two liters of thin sauce."

The owner brought everything. "I will put this all in a bag." he said and pulled out a giant brown one. It fitted everything inside. Now his heart was really start to pound and for some reason, tears were trying to make their way out.

"I would also three dozens of walnuts you have at the back."

"Alright." The shop keeper said again and went to the back to fetch it.

As soon as the man turned around, Crest grabbed the bag and ran towards the silent road as he had never ran before. He did not wait back, the road was empty. Not a single person and not a dog to chase him. After a few seconds of running at a blistering speed, Crest was on the busy road. He was still nervous but he stopped running. No one suspected him, people just saw a boy with a large bag. Crest was walking very quickly, looking behind sometimes. If the man had chosen the same road, and saw him, Crest did not dare to think of the outcome.

After a while, he could assure himself that he was safe. He did not feel guilty for stealing. Now he needed to find his way back.

He asked directions to strangers. After a while he reached a familiar place. He knew his way then, to a meat shop near his house. He had never been too far in that direction, but it was still identifiable.

He walked towards his house, the cemented two storied building he called home.

He entered the house to see his mother pouring the final milk to his sister's cup.

"Crest is back mother." Felna said, her expressions changed completely when she saw the bag.

"Crest, I was worried for you, and did you labor? How did you get the food?" His mother asked wearily.

"The food found its way to me mother." Crest handed her the bag and climbed the stairs to the bedroom, where they all slept. Felna and his mother started to unpack the food down stairs in the kitchen.