A brown hat hid his face as he sat at a table, resting behind in his chair, his strong legs clad in well-fitting black pants and expensive, yet rugged brown boots, crossed on the table, shaking to the rustic tune playing in the vacant pub. He wore an unsleeved black shirt, his sculpted arms folded behind his head to support it and daggers hung off his belt from either side.

“Elias.” A man in an apron with a label that read ‘Kibum’, placed down his meal and drink on the table, making the man shift his hat away to reveal ash brown hair and deep blue eyes, “Hoon’s gang is busy nowadays.”

Elias pulled his legs off the table, straightening up, amused, “Really? What’s the reason?”

Kibum shifted closer, pouring the drink in a goblet, lowering his voice further, “The Duchess’ diamonds.”

Elias nodded, grabbing his bowl and downing the soup in one go, getting up and beginning to leave, when Kibum grabbed his arm, “Where are you heading to now?”

He smirked, yanking the hold off and walking backwards towards the door pompously, “Their arses need a royal kick, my friend!”

Elias sat in a tree leisurely, swaying his legs as he bit into an apple, fanning himself with his hat now and then, his eyes excitedly in wait to watch what he himself would bring forth.

He grew alert on spotting a cart arrive and pulled his legs up, chewing, counting with his mouth full, “One, two, three-ouch!” He flinched when the cart driver was knocked down by a soldier, the event inciting the concealed members in the cart to spring out, only to get beaten by the soldiers who had been ready to ambush them. He began laughing when he spotted Hoon, the leader, fall gracelessly and be beaten with a baton like how a housewife would beat her husband, before being stripped off the diamonds they had stolen and be tied to the palatial horse instead to be taken away to prison.

He watched the gang be dragged away by soldiers, ready to jump out, but an odd sight caught his attention, keeping him rooted to his branch. He folded back his legs, watching a boy, not older than himself, walk the forest path, barefoot, clad in an ivory silk shirt and purple velvet pants, a purple silk cloth tied around his head like a pirate, a hideous pair of glasses stuck to his eyes as he looked around and walked carefully.

Elias raised a brow, chuckling in ridicule, watching the boy pass by him, flinching and jumping whenever he found a bug or a squirrel or a big pebble obstruct his path. He just watched him go and then dropped from the tree, taking a shorter route back to the pub.

His horse neighed on finding him return and he patted it before entering, settling on a stool, while Kibum poured him a jug of the frothy drink, “Jonghyun just doesn’t listen to me anymore.” He complained, “He’s been going around thieving wanting to be caught by the General, but the General is never on such petty chases and he thieves again to catch that bloody man’s attention. He’s now more than a thief, I suspect, because I saw his damned picture stuck to the trees and walls with a huge ‘wanted’ below it! Seriously, what in the world did I do so wrong to deserve a brother like him?!”

“The General?” Elias chuckled, “Would he take my offer if I say I meet the General often?”

Kibum’s eyes widened, “He’d grab it!” He leaned over the counter to pat Elias’ shoulder, “Why didn’t you say so before! He would have stopped his thievery and and turned a palace informant like you a year ago!”

“Shh.” Elias said, glancing around and finding the pub quite filled, his actions calming Kibum immediately, “Your pub’s the place where crooks hang around and I get all my scoop from, don’t ruin me, ‘kay?”

Kibum grinned, nodding, soon returning to clean the counter, his voice dropping, “Oh, I heard some words from a table.”

Elias shifted closer, dropping his voice to match Kibum’s, “What kind?”

“There’s a reward for finding a boy.” He bent down and straightened a crumpled sheet, “Two bags of gold. When seen last he was…” He scrunched his nose in remembrance, “Ah! Barefoot, purple-”

“Pants and an ivory shirt?” Elias asked, amused, looking closely at the face drawn on the sheet. He had quite a charming face for someone with such an eccentric dressing sense.

Kibum nodded in surprise, “Saw him anywhere?”

“Yes. A sight impossible to miss. He wore clothes stitched from women’s fabrics and had this ridiculous handkerchief tied around his hair like a pirate-”

“And an old-fashioned granny frame over his eyes?” Kibum asked tentatively, his gaze stuck on the door, which Elias followed. He spotted their topic of discussion standing at the door awkwardly, fidgeting with the satchel strapped to his body, glancing here and there before timidly walking to the counter and taking a seat two stools away from where Elias sat.

The bar had suddenly quietened and Elias and Kibum exchanged glances before Kibum slided towards his new customer, “What would you like to have?”

The boy seemed at a loss of words, biting his lip as he snuck a glance at the tables, before whispering, “Soup?”

“Got it.” Kibum smiled and moved away after pouring him water, while Elias watched the boy with interest.

He was swinging his legs in restlessness, while he searched his satchel, taking out a book and propping it open on the counter, his tension easing quite a bit after he began to read.

Elias looked back to his drink, swirling the jug lazily. A few moments later he felt a tremor through the counter and looked to his side, finding men to have banged their jugs on the table before settling around the odd boy.

“Where you from lad?” One of them asked, while another patted his back harshly, a menacing smile on his face.

The boy stiffened but he remained silent, his head bent towards his book, ignoring the crooks around him.

“Seems like he’s a tough nut. Ditch the double. Just get rough, pal.” The man said to his partner and Elias was on his feet but before he could have intervened, a loud noise followed by an equally loud groan filled the air, spreading pin-drop silence in the bar and making Elias’ eyes widen.

The boy was on his feet too, holding a frying pan in shaky hands, the obvious reason behind the groaning man on the floor. And before anyone could have reacted, he fled from the bar, making Elias break from his daze to follow him.

He noticed him follow and he began to run faster, but Elias was quicker- he grabbed the boy’s arm, only to have the frying pan be swung at him, hitting his cheek, making him let go of his arm in excruciating pain. He rubbed his cheek, his face contorted with pain, opening his eyes to find the boy running away deep into the forest.

“I didn’t know that could hurt this much.” He groaned, blinking to make sure where the boy had run off to before returning to the bar.

As soon as he entered and reached the counter, Kibum paled, “Your cheek!”

Elias chuckled, only to halt when it stung, “He...he is really something.” He grabbed the sheet from the counter, “See you.”

“Oi, are you going after him?” Kibum halted him and Elias turned, “Yeah, it’s better someone decent gets a hold of him.” He raised the picture to show Kibum, “He’s a catch.”

Kibum frowned but nodded, throwing Elias a pouch of ice. “I will pray for you, my friend.”

Elias burst into laughter, rubbing his red cheek with the ice, “Hail, frying pans!”

Taemin ran back into the forest, clutching the frying pan to his chest with one arm, while keeping the cloth over his head intact with the other. His heart was pounding with panic and fear, having faced the thugs and ruffians he always read about in his books, and barely escaping by swinging the pan at them. He halted after a while, making sure no one was following him, before dropping down under a tree, calming his breath, his feet bruised and painful with his careless sprint, exhaustion hitting him like a wave.

As he rested, he gained more confidence at his successful escape and he smiled to himself, deciding to hold the pan always. The sun had begun to set and Taemin began to think of where he would head next. He had to get out the forest and get into a village or town to be able to ask around, because now he was pretty much sure that the only people he would meet in the forest would be crooks.

He got up and decided to walk as much as he could till it would darken, oblivious to a gang of thugs that had been tailing him discreetly.

But soon he realised he was being followed again because he was sure he heard a snicker. He stopped and turned, fear returning to him and he quickened his pace, only to halt again on finding menacing men approach him from front. He swivelled his head and found himself surrounded, in response to which he raised his frying pan, twirling around in an awkward stance of attack to keep the men from closing in. But they did nothing to regard Taemin’s stance and kept nearing, one of them grabbing onto him, making Taemin swing the frying pan recklessly at him. He was hit but another grabbed the frying pan from Taemin’s hold, a couple more coming onto him to restrain his struggle.

“Couldn’t had let my gold runaway.” The man said, playing with the frying pan as he looked to Taemin, before looking to one of his comrades, “Where were we supposed to bring him?”

“That...we did not hear, boss.”

He made a foul face, “Fine, go spread the news that we caught the boy. She’ll come running to us with our gold then.”

“Aye.”

And the man was off, leaving Taemin quietly struggling against the hold of the other men while the boss paced around him with interest. “Why would she pay so much for a prune like you, huh, lad?”

“Some-someone wants me?” Taemin asked in horror, “How-how...I was so careful!”

Everyone was taken aback at Taemin’s voice and they stared at him for a while before the boss smirked, removing a folded sheet and glancing at it, coming to a conclusion, “Now I get it. You ain’t a lad, you’re a lady.” He neared Taemin, propping his face up by the chin, “Hmm...a rich young noble girl rebelling, huh?”

“Wh-what are you talking about? That is not me. You have got the wrong person, Sir.”

The boss laughed heartily, stepping back only to stop short and fall to the ground, revealing another man standing behind him, wearing a sleeveless black shirt, a brown hat and matching boots, jerking his fist as he stepped over the fallen boss with a painful smile.

The next moment every man except for the ones holding Taemin had charged on him. He fought with elegance, having no need of unsheathing his weapons...and after a while, even Taemin gave up his struggle to watch him fight.

In no time, he was dusting his hands off, men fallen around him, unconscious or groaning, while the two holding Taemin, discussed quickly on seeing him approach, throwing Taemin away and fleeing into the dark forest.

The man laughed, picking up the frying pan and extending it towards Taemin, “Yours, I guess?”

Taemin stared at him a while, unable to ascertain his face or the expression due to the dark, grabbing the pan and turning to flee, only to be grabbed by the arm and held in place. He struggled, panicking at the tight hold, swinging his pan at the man’s face.

The man groaned, but his fingers tightened around Taemin’s arm and he pulled him closer, “Do you have any idea how much that hurts?! Darnit, you got me at the same place twice.” He sighed, wanting to touch his cheek but restraining himself before dragging Taemin with him.

“Who-who are you? What do you want from me?” Taemin shot at him right away, putting all his strength in trying to break free from this man’s grasp.

The man halted all of a sudden, turning to Taemin, his eyes wide, “Come again?”

Taemin bit his lip before repeating, “Who are you and what do you want from me?”

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