An Aimless War (Greatest Thief 2)

Bonus - The Second Son

It was late and raining heavily. A young man walked down the thin, winding streets of Zianna's lower city, his shoulders hunched and hood pulled up to protect his head. It was a common joke among Native Zians that they were allergic to rain. It was uncommon and most people barricaded themselves inside during bad weather.

By the time he reached the small house that was his destination, the young man was thoroughly drenched. He pushed open the door and stepped into the house cautiously, not wanting to alert his family that he was home just yet. He hung up his cloak on one of the rusty hooks by the door, and slipped off his boots before stepping into the main room of the little house.

The room was dominated by a large fireplace on the far wall, the one thing about the house the young man liked. There were a few chairs, a single table and in one corner, a little kitchen area. Ignoring the looks from his mother and two sisters, the young man walked over to the fire and held out his hands, relishing the warmth.

"Terrow!" His mother's voice broke into in thoughts and he turned around with a sigh. She was standing in the kitchen area, cutting up some vegetables she was about to make into a stew. His younger sisters, who had been chatting animatedly, fell silent.

"Yes, mother?" Terrow asked dryly. He knew what she wanted, it was the same routine every time he got home, but for some reason he continued to ask. As if he hoped that one day she might say something different.

"How much did he pay you?"

Terrow sighed. Would it really be that hard to welcome him home like a normal mother? "Twenty siyas."

"Only twenty?" His mother frowned and turned her attention to the vegetables once again. "How am I supposed to feed this family with twenty siyas?"

Terrow shrugged. "I moved crates, mother. It isn't a high paying job."

"You should demand more money."

"And then I'll be fired."

"Maybe if you were a better worker you'd get a raise."

"That isn't how it works!" Terrow shouted. It caught his mother off guard, he rarely rose his voice to her. His sisters snuck out of the room, wanting to avoid the coming fight.

"Do not yell at me, young man," Terrow's mother replied sternly. With a splash, she dumped the chopped vegetables into a pot. "Virra, Parria! If you want to eat any dinner you'd better come help make it! Terrow," she said more quietly, looking across the room at her only remaining son. "If you want to eat you'd better make enough money to buy food."

Terrow didn't bother pointing out that he had made enough money to buy food for himself. He also didn't bother pointing out that he didn't need to stick around to take care of his family. He just stared at his mother a little longer and then left the main room.

The little house had a main floor and a small attic room. The attic was where Terrow's sisters slept. Their mother slept in the second room on the main floor. Terrow had claimed what was basically a closet for himself. It was just big enough to fit a mattress. Terrow slipped inside and closed the door firmly behind him. He shoved a little piece of wood under the door to make sure it stayed shut, since the door didn't quite fit the frame anymore.

Annoyed, hungry and still damp, Terrow stretched out on his mattress and fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning Terrow woke up to the sound of his sisters and mother talking in the main room. He lay in bed a little longer, trying to delay the tedious day ahead like he always did, then finally got up. After changing into a different set of equally dirty clothes, Terrow stepped out of his little room. His family was sitting at the table, each with a bowl of porridge. Terrow's stomach rumbled at the sight.