Damien looked up into the night, his hand shaking but still lingering on the hard surface of what felt like a boot. He looked up into the darkness engulfing the alley; a cape matching the night sky swayed in the breeze gently and without sound.

"Ex--cuse me," Damien stuttered.

     The figure remained stationary and silent.

     He kept his hand clutched to the shirt, and continued peering up into the void beneath the hood of the cape. Dirt kicked around behind him and he froze; too frightened to turn around or rise up from the filth of the dirt path. The sound of light footsteps rubbing against the grit of the earth stopped inches away behind him.

     "Where'd he come from?" The voice behind inquired.

      Damien immediately gathered that whoever was behind him was indeed female, and didn't sound at all pleased in seeing him. But the person whose boot had become a leaning post for Damien the past minute still peaked his interest. He remained bent over and firmly gripping the top of the boot out of panic rather than balance.

     "He just ran over here from there," Damien watched a delicate hand rise and point towards the inn. He relaxed slightly at the softness of this female's voice, but remained mostly tense at his current situation.

     "Dammit Erin!" The woman behind him replied. He spun around to get a good look at the same long dark cloak with an indecipherable face beneath the hood.

     "What are we going to do with him?" Erin asked the other female. Damien gulped and re solidified his stance upon the woman's foot.

     "Ex--cuse me," Damien said.

     Both remained silent and Damien watched as the figure he had latched on to lowered her head towards him. Nothing but the occasional indication of her breathing the cool night air was visible beneath the void of her hooded cloak.

     "What do you mean...do with me?"

     "Tara he doesn't even know what we're talking about. Do we really have to?"

     Damien turned to face Tara after he heard a small sigh come from beneath her hood.

     "You know the rules. We'll take him to Dia."

      Damien gathered what small amount of courage he had and rose from Erin's foot, clutching the now sullied shirt he had been chasing after.

     "Well, excuse me, b--but I'm not going anywhere. Thank you very much!" He spun and instantly tripped over what could have been a rock, judging from the sharp edge that grazed his calf and left a throbbing pain lying against it. Damien closed his mouth to avoid swallowing more dirt today.

"Is this kid for real?" Tara asked.

Erin shrugged and bent down to help him rise to his feet. He began trying to pick out the large pieces of dirt that embedded in his naked chest and mumbled to himself.

"Are you alright?" Erin took a hand and brushed what filth she could see latched to his torso. His skin felt cold, clammy, and covered in goosebumps.

"Yes, why I'll be just fine. Thank you."

He took the sudden opportunity to attempt to storm off in the direction of the inn but was quickly stopped by the woman he believed to be Tara. She clutched on to the waistband of his pants and refused to let go.

"Help!! Someone help me!! Twill! Terry!! Anybody!" He yelled, trying to pry himself away from the strong grip around the top of his pants. He watched as the candles in the inn were extinguished and the laughter immediately died down. He scoffed in disbelief.

"Now you listen to me," Tara whispered into Damien's ear, "we can do this the easy way or," the sound of steel being pulled from a hilt beneath her cape made Damien swallow hard. He didn't attempt to move.

"Don't make a sound, and I won't have to kill you."

Damien gulped, impressed at the fact that he had been able to contain his bladder.

     "Who are you?" He asked quietly attempting to control the shaking in his knees. Erin walked up beside him, and rested her hand on his exposed shoulder.

"I'm really sorry about this," she whispered quietly.

Damien felt the warmth of Erin's breath wrap around his ear before everything went black.

~*~

"Help!! Someone help me!! Twill! Terry!! Anybody!"

"Quick! Get the candles," Terry urged.

Every person in the inn rose from their seats without further coaxing and ran to the nearest source of light to blow it out. Afraid of making further noise, they remained at their post careful to not move an inch out of fear of creaking floorboards. A dozen people stood with their eyes wide; sweat dripping from their upper lips and creases of their brows.

"It's that boy you brought here," Terry said quietly into the ear of Twill, who had sat still atop a bar stool. Twill lifted his head, fear and sadness plastered to his face.

"Poor kid. He's gone fer good now," Twill carefully placed a tankard to his mouth, draining it.

"What are they gonna do to him, Twill? He hasn't done nothin wrong, and Dockside don't even have furies."

The sound of a loud thud echoed in the alley next door, and the men and women standing around with horror in their eyes shuddered.

"That answer ya question there, Terry?"

Twill shook his tankard in front of Terry, clearly too inebriated to realize the dire situation at hand.

"You said he was from Dockside. Poor kid didn't even know what they were. How can they just take him like that?" A woman, clearly distraught and standing by a freshly blown out candle asked.

Twill leaned over the counter and refilled his tankard with the ale, "that don't matter any. Rules is rules honey, ya know it."

     The people watched as Twill sat at the bar and continued drinking in silence, save for a couple belches that made everyone cringe. The woman who had spoken up, uttered a small prayer for the boy over a candle that grown cold, hoping that the injustice from the justice bringers would find some resolution.