Ch2: The mysterious black ring.

A week had passed since the vendor's brutal beating, and Archeas had spent most of that time hiding in the alleys, nursing his wounds. The bruises had faded to a sickly yellow, and the pain, though still present, had dulled to a manageable throb. With his money long spent, he knew he had to return to the streets and find new prey.

The morning air was crisp, the sky a clear blue above the bustling city of Crolas. Archeas moved cautiously through the marketplace, his eyes sharp and alert. The memories of his last attempt lingered, but hunger and desperation drove him forward.

"Got to be careful this time," Archeas muttered to himself. "Can't afford to get caught again."

He spotted a group of wealthy merchants chatting animatedly near a spice stall. Their coin purses hung invitingly from their belts, and Archeas felt a familiar thrill. He slipped into the crowd, his small size allowing him to move unseen among the throngs of people.

As he edged closer to the merchants, he overheard snippets of their conversation.

"Prices are rising," one of them said, shaking his head. "The demand for spices has never been higher."

Another merchant laughed. "Aye, and our profits along with it. These coins burn a hole in my pocket!"

Archeas saw his chance. He moved silently, his fingers deftly loosening the strings of a particularly heavy-looking purse. Just as he was about to pocket the coins, one of the merchants turned abruptly, nearly catching him in the act.

"Close call," Archeas breathed, stepping back into the shadows. He needed to be more careful.

He continued to scout the marketplace, looking for an easier target. His eyes landed on a distracted woman examining a display of jewelry. Her purse lay loosely in her hand, the perfect mark.

"Just a quick snatch," Archeas thought, edging closer. "In and out."

With a swift, practiced motion, he grabbed the purse and melted back into the crowd. His heart raced as he moved to a quieter alley to count his haul.

"Please let it be enough," he whispered, dumping the coins into his hand. He counted quickly, his eyes widening with delight.

"Fifty brass coins!" he exclaimed. "That's more than enough for a few days."

Relief washed over him, but it was tempered by the knowledge that his success was fleeting. Every day brought new risks, and every coin he took was a gamble.

"Can't let my guard down," Archeas reminded himself, pocketing the money. "Got to stay sharp."

He left the alley, blending back into the vibrant life of Crolas.

Archeas sat in his usual spot in the dimly lit alley, the familiar surroundings offering a semblance of comfort. The day's haul lay in front of him, a modest pile of brass coins, glinting dully in the fading light. He tore off a piece of bread with his teeth, chewing thoughtfully as he counted his loot.

"Twenty, thirty, forty… not bad," he murmured, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Enough to get by for a while."

As he sifted through the coins, his fingers brushed against something cold and hard. Frowning, he pulled out the object, his eyes widening as he held it up to the light.

It was a ring, unlike any he had ever seen. Crafted from a greyish-black metal, it had an otherworldly sheen. The band was adorned with intricate carvings, so precise and delicate that they seemed almost alive.

"What is this?" Archeas whispered, his breath catching in his throat. He turned the ring over in his hand, marveling at the craftsmanship. "How can someone make something so beautiful?"

Archeas's fingers traced the designs, his mind racing with questions.

"Who did this belong to?" he wondered aloud. "And why would they part with it?"

He slipped the ring onto his finger, feeling a strange sense of connection to the object. It fit perfectly, as if it were made for him. A warmth spread from the ring, seeping into his skin and filling him with a curious energy.

"Maybe this is worth something," Archeas thought, his mind torn between the practical need to sell the ring for money and the inexplicable desire to keep it. "But it's too beautiful to give up."

As he sat there, staring at the ring, a sense of reverence washed over him. The ring was more than just a piece of jewelry; it was a work of art, a testament to the skill and imagination of its maker. For a moment, Archeas allowed himself to dream—of a life where he didn't have to steal to survive, where he could appreciate and perhaps even create such beauty.

"I wonder if I'll ever meet the person who made this," he mused. "Or if there are more wonders like this out there."

The alley seemed less harsh, the shadows less menacing, as Archeas's thoughts turned to possibilities beyond his current existence. He tucked the ring into his pocket, deciding to keep it as a talisman of hope and curiosity.

"Tomorrow is another day," he thought, a faint smile playing on his lips. "And maybe, just maybe, it will bring new adventures."

The next day, Archeas roamed the bustling marketplace of Crolas, his thoughts consumed by the mysterious ring tucked safely in his pocket. He couldn't shake the curiosity it had sparked, wondering about its origin and the story behind its intricate carvings.

Distracted, he didn't notice the well-dressed boy in front of him until it was too late. Archeas collided with the child, both of them stumbling. Before he could react, a sharp slap stung his cheek, delivered by a stern-faced attendant who stood protectively by the boy's side.

"Watch where you're going, you little rat!" the attendant barked, his hand still raised. "Bow and apologize to Master Edwin this instant!"

Archeas, his cheek smarting and pride wounded, bowed low. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, his voice barely masking the anger simmering beneath. "It won't happen again."

The boy, Master Edwin, smirked smugly, clearly enjoying the display of power. Satisfied, the attendant waved them off, turning his attention back to his charge. Archeas, seething inside, slipped away into a nearby alley, muttering under his breath.

"Stupid spoiled brat," he cursed. "Thinks he's better than everyone else."

As he rubbed his sore cheek, Archeas felt the weight of something unfamiliar in his hand. He glanced down and saw the money bag he had deftly lifted from the attendant during the altercation. A grin spread across his face.

"Serves them right," he thought, opening the bag to reveal a small fortune in brass coins. "This will last me a while."

He sank down onto a crate, counting the coins with growing excitement. "One hundred, one hundred fifty… more than I've ever had!"

The sting of the slap and the humiliation he had felt quickly faded, replaced by a sense of triumph. Archeas couldn't help but laugh at his unexpected windfall.

"Maybe I'll get something nice to eat tonight," he mused. "Or maybe a new coat, one without holes."

His thoughts returned to the ring, the strange talisman that had somehow seemed to bring him luck. "Perhaps this ring really is special," he considered, his fingers absently tracing its shape through his pocket. "Or maybe it's just made me see things differently."

Archeas tucked the money bag securely inside his shirt, feeling a rare sense of security and optimism. The city of Crolas might be harsh and unforgiving, but today, he had won a small victory against it.

"Tomorrow," he thought, standing up and brushing himself off, "I'll see what else I can find. Maybe even learn more about this ring."

With newfound confidence, Archeas stepped back into the bustling streets, ready to face whatever challenges—and opportunities—the day might bring.