Chapter 7 - Fitting In

The following day, the gang wasted no time putting me to work.

"Stick with me, kid," Cravik said, patting me on the shoulder as he led me through the twisting streets of Korvar's southern district, the main operating area of the gang. "Every fledgling needs a proper start."

Fledgling. That's what they called me. Not that I had an issue with it; I was new blood and untested. It was fitting, I supposed. The gang's full name was the Crowfoot Syndicate, and everything about them revolved around birds. When I asked about why, I was simply met with laughs, telling me that it was because of the Kingdom I found myself in. The royal banner had a Black Crow, the saint animal of the ruling bloodline, so they also used it for themselves. They also told me how many times that simple, unsaid connection got them out of the sticky situation with some gullible guards in the region. I wanted to ask if it wasn't a risky idea, masquerading as someone who has a connection to the royal bloodline... but who was I to ask? They have been at it for much longer than I have arrived in this world. After I finally stopped questioning everything, I just listened to Cravik's continuing explanation. Their ranks reflected the image of the crow, too.

Cravik, for example, was a Talon, one of the enforcers who kept people in line. He was one of the muscles of their operation. On the other hand, Risa had casually mentioned her own title, a Wing, making her part of their scouts and smugglers responsible for getting the goods from A to B. Or finding new deals. As for the top of the chain, the one everyone told me about but never named directly, he was the Crown—the head of this entire operation. The Big Boss. The Don. Whenever I asked, they said I might see him soon, but that was it.

Not that it mattered. I wasn't concerned with the Crown. Not yet; I was still being tested anyway. For now, I had to prove I wasn't a waste of space and then think about how to go about my life from there. My first task was simple enough on paper: deliver a small crate to a tailor's shop in the Merchant's Quarter. Cravik handed me the crate, and Risa was assigned to shadow me, keeping an eye on my every move. Of course, I did not know it when I was given the task.

"What's in it?" I asked, testing its weight. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it was sealed tight. If anyone tried to peek into it, the seals would be broken, a telling sign that it had been tampered with.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," Cravik said with a grin. "Just get it there without opening it, and don't be late."

"Understood." I nodded, pushing down my curiosity. He was right; sometimes, it is just best to remain silent. I just hoped I wasn't going to be made into some kind of drug mule and get busted the first time I did something of my own will... so they could push something even better elsewhere...

But it was too late to think about the possibilities, and it wasn't going to help.

The walk to the shop was uneventful enough—at first. About halfway there, a pair of city guards appeared, blocking my path and making my worst thoughts manifest into reality; my heart sank as one of them pointed at me out of the blue.

"You there! What's in the crate?" the guard demanded, stepping forward. His partner stayed back, watching for trouble, making me twitch my eyelids. Fucking hell... good job Auriel. You are going to medieval prison, you idiot.

"Uh, flour," I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady. "For the bakery on Oak Street."

"Really?" The guard asked while he raised an eyebrow, his suspicion evident on his face. "Let's take a look."

"Ah!" Before I could respond, Risa swooped in from nowhere, flashing a disarming smile at the guards. "Good morning, officers," she said, her tone as sweet as honey, laced with a hint of flirtiness. "This one's new to the city and a little nervous around authority. Isn't that right, my little birdie?"

I nodded quickly, gripping the crate tighter, surprised that she showed up from nowhere, but at least it told me I wasn't being set up by them.

"Flour, you said?" The guard seemed unconvinced, looking past Risa. "Why's he taking it all the way to Oak Street when there's a bakery two blocks over from where we are?"

"Oh, please!" Risa laughed, her voice light and airy sounding. "Because the baker's his cousin, of course. Family helps family, don't they? A bit of extra work is never a bad thing when it concerns family. Now, unless you want to be the reason someone doesn't get their bread on time…"

The guard hesitated, seeing Risa's insistence, and in reality, I guess they didn't have any reason to push further, not when they realized there could be trouble brewing. So, with one last glance, the man pierced into my eyes and then waved us on with a grunt. Once we were out of earshot, Risa turned to me, her smile fading.

"Next time, keep your story straight," she hissed. "You're lucky they were lazy enough."

"Yeah..." I nodded, feeling my heart beating in my throat.

Finally, we reached the tailor's shop without further incident, as Risa's presence helped deter any other guards who may look to shake some people down for extra money. After seeing us, the man behind the counter took the crate without question, sliding a small pouch of coins back in its place. He didn't even look at me, addressing Risa instead.

"Tell the Crows it's all there."

"We know." She chuckled, making the pouch disappear with one swift movement of her hand and leading me back out. "Don't worry." She patted my shoulders in the end. "At least you didn't buckle on the first hurdle or try to run. Just be mindful of the city's layout when trying to get away with it."

"Yeah." I nodded, repeating the same word and movement, thinking I, indeed, should pay more attention to my surroundings. That way, I could have avoided them in the first place.

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My second job was less straightforward. Cravik brought me along to 'chat' with a merchant who owed the gang money.

"We're not here to hurt anyone," he explained as we approached the man's stall in the bustling marketplace. I hoped so, as it was filled with witnesses. "But Garo needs to remember his priorities. Watch and learn, fledgling."

The merchant was a thin man with nervous eyes and a patch of hair that was falling out on the left side of his head. Of course, he spotted us immediately. His face paled even more, not something I thought was possible. I watched, trying to look serious while he began fiddling with the trinkets on his stall, pretending not to notice us and getting his stuff away before slinking away.

"Garo, my friend!" Cravik called out, his voice overly cheerful. "How's business?"

"Business? Oh, uh, fine," the man stammered, not meeting Cravik's gaze. He only looked into mine once, too, probably to memorize my looks.

"Glad to hear it," Cravik continued, leaning casually on the stall, making the old wood creak under the weight of his whole body. "But, you see, I'm here about a different kind of business. You're late on your payments."

"Wah...?" Garo swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for an escape route. "I—I need... I just need more time."

"Time?" Cravik's smile didn't waver, but his tone grew icy. "My pal. My friend. My dear! We lend out money, not time... and anyway... We're all out of time, Garo. You know how we operate. Pay up, or things get... complicated. Maybe something goes missing. Maybe it will be a trinket of yours. Maybe it will be your eyes."

I stood behind Cravik, unsure of what to do, but I put up a stoic front, trying to be intimidating with my best efforts. Standing there, the tension was thick enough to cut with a blade. I thought Cravik would reach out and grab him, but that never happened, and it seemed words alone were enough. Finally, Garo reached under his stall and pulled out a small pouch of coins, his hands trembling.

"Here. It's all I have right now. It... it should be enough!"

"See? I knew you were holding out on me my bestest pal of pals!" Cravik laughed as he took the pouch and weighed it in his hand. "Not bad. You're lucky I'm feeling generous today. But don't let this happen again, Garo." He leaned in, and I saw the stall develop a nice little crack over it while he did so. "Next time, I might not be so friendly."

Then, with a playful slap on the man's face, Cravik straightened up, and we walked away. I couldn't help but glance back at the merchant, who looked like he might collapse from relief. Or dread. Or both.

"See?" Cravik spoke, clapping me on the back, making me stumble. "Easy as pie. Just remember, we don't make empty threats. We make promises."

"So... you took others' eyes already?" I asked, partially joking but also curious.

"Once." He nodded, "Then sold it back to him."

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My third task involved slipping a bundle of contraband past the city watch. This time, Risa wasn't hiding and took the lead in the operation. She handed me a stack of actual flour sacks to carry. I don't know if this was payback for my first debacle, but the grin in her eyes told me I gave her the idea to do it this way. Anyway, hidden within one of them was a bundle wrapped in an oilcloth. This time, I knew enough not to ask questions.

"Head down, act dumb, and don't say a word," she instructed as we approached a checkpoint, telling me only what I had to know. "Let me do the talking."

I didn't know if I liked going in blind, but oh well... I was already in. I just had to grit my teeth and get to a position where I would be able to make my own decisions. I can't be ordered around forever; I will make sure of that. Still, thinking about it wasn't going to do anything as it was further away, and my heart raced as we neared the guards. Two of them stood at the checkpoint, one leaning lazily against a wall while the other scrutinized passersby, and I could swear they were the same guards as before.

"Evening," Risa said brightly as we approached.

"What's your business?" the more attentive guard asked, eyeing the sacks I carried.

"Just delivering supplies to the bakery," Risa replied smoothly. "It's been a busy week, and they're running low. Hey, didn't we have this talk before?"

"Maybe." The guard nodded but gestured for me to stop. "Let's have a look."

"Again?" Risa stepped between us, her smile never faltering. "Oh, come on. Do you really want to sift through flour? You'll be coughing up dust for a week!"

"..." The guard hesitated once again, then sighed, looking at us and then back at his garb. "Fine. Go on."

Luckily, we passed through without incident, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Once we were clear, Risa turned to me with a sly grin, winking at me.

"Not bad, fledgling. You might actually make it in this line of work."

"What if they did look this time around?" I asked, making her laugh.

"Nothing. The cloth has nothing in it. I was just messing with you!"

"What?!" I gasped, almost dropping the heavy flour stacks that were already killing my back.

"Ahahahaha! You should have seen your face!" She continued, laughing like a maniac, pointing at me. "Aaaah... this was worth all the preparations! Ahahahaha! Come, come, little fledgling! Bwahahaha, you will pay me a beer!"

"..."

Damn it. I couldn't think of anything else, finally dropping the sacks that, of course, burst, painting me white, raising her laughter a whole octave. Not to mention the others when we returned...

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By the end of the second week, I'd gathered enough coins so I could move out of the Guild's tavern and into a small room above a bakery in the southern district, feeling they were still pulling my leg to get me a room there. It was nothing fancy, just a bed, a chair, and a window that overlooked a tangle of crooked rooftops. But it was mine. For the first time since arriving in this world, I felt... grounded.

I also enjoyed waking up early to the fresh smell of bread... that was a bonus.

As I integrated myself into my new life, the gang itself was unlike anything I'd expected. They weren't simply criminals; they were indeed a family. Dinner was always shared, and nobody was allowed to skip it. There was where stories were swapped, but nothing work-related. That was against the rules. I also learned there that when one of us got into trouble, everyone rallied to help. Even the grizzled guys who held the rank of Talon, who seemed so intimidating at first, had their moments of warmth, laughing and welcoming me into this family, however crooked it was.

Despite my growing comfort as the week passed and I neared my first month with them, one figure remained an enigma: the Crown. I tried not to listen to the others when they told me their spooky stories, thinking they were simply teasing me, being the new guy and all. I was a bit unsure if I should keep ignoring it or not, though. Going by their stories, the Crown was ruthless; others felt that they were a genius strategist. The two can be true at the same time. Anyway, one thing was clear: meeting him wasn't something up to me but to him. When he wants to see me, I will see him.

"Don't worry about the Crown," Risa said one evening as we sorted through stolen goods after dinner and I offered to stay late and help her out. "He'll meet you when the time's right. Until then, focus on proving yourself."

"Don't worry." I smiled at her, "I will."