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Canny Village. It turned out to be Ezra's home village. Evan had somewhat guessed it, but he never thought his assumption would be spot-on. On one hand, he felt satisfied to have accurately guessed someone's destination, but on the other, he was puzzled. An eighteen-year-old girl who left her village to steal and provide for her sibling—why go all the way to Olivia City?
"You went to the city just to steal here and there?" Driven by curiosity, Evan decided to ask.
"Yes, got a problem with that?"
"Of course, it's a problem." Evan was baffled by her tone, as if going out to make a living through stealing was perfectly normal.
"Wouldn't it be more of a problem if I just sat by my brother's bedside, watching him die?" Ezra replied matter-of-factly. "Stealing is much better." That was the unreasonable part.
As they entered the village, Evan felt like he had been thrown into a new world.
Since beginning his intense life at Blesiya Academy, Evan's daily focus had been on training and textbooks. Hunts happened in the outskirts of Aetheria City or, at the furthest, around Olivia City. He'd never seen a village, except the occasional burnt remains of one after a bandit raid, where his master had them search for survivors—survivors who were often impossible to find.
To Evan, Canny Village was beautiful.
The land was fertile, and the houses varied in size. None of them looked overly poor. Everyone seemed fairly prosperous.
People were bustling around, each heading to their own tasks. Some went to the fields to work the land, others went to the river to fish or to operate crossing services. Others headed to taverns, shops, or the marketplace. Though there were only a few shoppers, there were still some active stalls, even at this hour. Evan admired the village. It was peaceful, nothing like the noisy cities of Olivia or Aetheria.
"This village is delightful." Evan commented as he watched a child playing with two cats in the front yard of a house. "Very delightful."
"That's just the cover," Ezra scoffed, glancing around. "If this village were as good as you think, would a thief be born here—one who would leave her home and go so far away?"
Evan furrowed his brow. "Who's taking care of your brother at home?"
"He's managing on his own."
"You said he was nearly dying?" Evan was surprised. "How could someone in that condition take care of himself?"
"My brother has his ways," Ezra answered dismissively. Evan couldn't tell if Ezra was oversimplifying things or if that was just how her mind worked. "He can only lie in bed, but I left him enough food in a crate beside him to last a month. It should keep well."
"What kind of food?"
"Dried meat and some bread."
Evan was even more taken aback. "Bread? Did you say bread?"
Ezra nodded. Again, she nodded so casually, as if it was nothing unusual. "You heard right. Bread that would mold if it goes uneaten for more than three days," she said, continuing before Evan could bombard her with more questions. "But my brother will finish it in less than three days."
"What about things like… using the bathroom, bathing, or changing clothes?"
"I said he can only lie in bed, not that he can only stay still. He can walk within the house's vicinity—that's about it. You can picture it," Ezra replied nonchalantly as they walked along. "Hey!" she suddenly called out. A street vendor with a load of goods turned, smiling as he jogged over. His face was genuinely warm.
"Oh, it's you again," the vendor said.
Evan glanced at the contents of the wooden box the man was carrying. He figured this man was a seller of sweets or something similar, though vendors like this were rare.
"I'd like to buy some of your dry cakes again," Ezra said with a broad smile. "My friend will pay."
Evan cursed silently. This kid was too audacious.
Some time passed, and Evan learned that the vendor sold dry cakes in Olivia City. Ezra had bought from him there, and now they had met again. Evan bought some for Ezra. He knew she'd lost the cake in the cave and intended to give it to her brother, Robin.
"Let's see the real part of Canny Village. You're not going to like it." Ezra smirked.
As it turned out, she wasn't lying.
After walking further into Canny Village, Evan saw a harsh reality. A few hundred meters past the village entrance lay the area where Ezra lived. Evan was dumbstruck.
This place was nothing like the prosperous houses by the entrance. Here, not a single structure could truly be called a house. They looked more like shacks, with dried grass roofs missing patches, blown away by the wind.
Evan turned back, comparing it to the residential area he had just seen. "What happened here?"
"This is reality," Ezra said, taking one of the dry cakes she supposedly meant to give to Robin. "Over there are the nobles' homes, and here is where the scum lives." She continued walking.
"What do you mean?"
"Human nature is just like that." Her tone was bitter. "The people with piles of gold in their rooms never see us as humans. To them, we poor folk are nothing more than rats. That's better than a few others who consider themselves human and us as nothing but filth. So, there are two leaders here—the leader of the rats and the king of gold. That's what we call them."
Evan was stunned by this explanation. Even in stories, he had never heard of anything like this.
Ezra glanced at him, smirking. "Your face shows that you haven't been away from home much."
"You're not wrong," Evan admitted.
"This place is full of thieves like me. More than that, there's even a group of robbers who terrorize those rich folks. They're the real nightmare—stealing the nobles' gold and sharing it with us."
"Have there been any clashes between your people and those nobles?"
As soon as he asked, he caught sight of a scene: a group of raggedly dressed people kicking a fat young man draped in fine fur.
"There you have it," Ezra remarked. "Relax, that jerk won't die. People around here still have some decency. Come on, let's go to my house."
Evan was taken aback again when he saw Ezra's house. This place was arguably the most luxurious among the houses in this area. Compared to the noble quarters, Ezra's was probably the worst, but in the "rats' quarter," it was the most respectable.
Ezra noticed Evan's gaze and smiled again. "Don't be too surprised. My father was once the leader of the rats. Fair enough, right?"
Evan's shock only deepened.
Upon entering, Evan was greeted by a simple yet artistic design. He quickly concluded that Ezra's parents must have loved art. The walls were adorned with paintings that seemed almost real at a glance. There was a painting of a beetle on a blade of grass, and another of a tiger attacking its prey. The brushstrokes on the canvas seemed alive.
The chairs and table were neatly arranged in the right corner of the room. A pink curtain separated the front room from the back.
"Do you like to paint?"
Ezra nodded a few times. "My father taught me."
Evan stood by a table, picking up a small frame. He examined it.
"That's my work. My best piece," Ezra said.
It was a simple painting of Ezra and her younger brother. The strokes were rough, but Evan could immediately recognize the woman in the picture as Ezra.
"Let's go greet my brother." She moved toward the room hidden by the pink curtain.
Beyond the curtain, there were two doors, seemingly to separate rooms. Ezra walked to one and opened it. Before Evan could enter, he heard a voice from inside.
"Did you bring a guest?" The voice was hoarse and heavy, and Evan guessed it belonged to Robin Tyr, Ezra's brother.
Evan entered the room. Seeing him reminded Evan of his mother.
Robin was frail, with gaunt cheeks that made his facial bones prominent. He lay weakly, covered in a thick blanket. When Evan entered, Robin turned his head and smiled—a smile as wide and bright as his sister's.
"Hello," he greeted.
Evan waved in response. "My name's Evan."
"I'm Robin. What has my sister taken from you?"
Ezra glared.
"My dagger," Evan chuckled. "But she's returned it. I'm grateful."
"I hope she's not after anything else."
Evan smiled. Robin, though frail and sickly, still spoke with a firmness. Was this the same nearly dying person Ezra had described? Just like his mother, though Robin's condition was slightly better.