Link crouched in the shadowy alley as he watched the hustle and bustle of the bazaar across the street. The hot, sticky air that permeated his hiding place was saturated with the cloying stench of rotting garbage, and other, less pleasant, refuse. He smiled grimly as he thought that most people would start gagging immediately at the overpowering odor, but Link wasn’t most people, and he had called these disgusting alleyways home for most of his life. Ever since he had run away from the brutal man, whose breath always smelled of strong liquor, that had beaten him and cursed at him more often than not. Unfortunately, that meant that he now had to steal food in order to survive, and, on the days when he couldn’t get anything, dig through other people’s garbage hoping to find something that wasn’t too rotten. After a few nights spent shaking and vomiting in the street, Link had gotten sneakier out of necessity, and now he was one of the most successful thieves in his corner of the slums. Successful enough, in fact, that he had even begun to support a few other orphans who were unable to fend for themselves.

He sternly reminded himself not to think of anything unnecessary as he carefully studied each of the food vendors in turn. Deciding what to try for was always the hardest part for Link; especially now since he hadn’t eaten in two days, and everything looked good and smelled better. Yet he had to choose carefully because if he got something too small everyone would still be hungry when it was gone, but if he went for something too big it would be almost impossible to get away clean. Bread would be best, since it was filling and a little could go a long way, but the only loaves he saw on display were of the long, stick-like variety, which were impossible to hide. The dense, round loaves he sometimes saw were easier, because he could slip them in his dingy, ill-fitting tunic, and he would just look like a starving orphan whose stomach had been unnaturally bloated by malnutrition. Link had even spent hours of practice on convincingly acting the part, and had met with great success on several occasions. His staggering, empty-eyed gait was so authentic, in fact, that some people had even hurried to get out of his way; convinced he was bearing some dreadful plague.

More important than choosing what, however, was choosing who to steal from, because, while some merchants would give you a hard smack so you wouldn’t choose their stall next time, others would beat you so badly you never got a next time. Link shuddered as he remembered all the times he had come across beggars and other orphans, lying broken and bloodied in the street, and, as their lifeblood drained away, passers-by would step over or around them, never giving a second thought to the life that had just been snuffed out. During those moments he was always overcome by grief, sympathy, and a seething rage at the horrible injustice of the world, and he knew that all it would take was one bad day for it to be him laying dead in the gutter as people calmly strolled by without a second glance.

Shaking his head vigorously to clear away the depressing thoughts, Link once again focused his attention on the task at hand, and, making his decision, darted into the crowded avenue. Keeping his head low, he drifted this way and that, following the currents of the crowd, and slowly made his way for his chosen target; a man, lazing about beside his stall filled with nuts and dried fruit, who had the sunken cheeks and glazed eyes of someone high on milkflower sap; a weed-like, thick stemmed flower whose sap produced a powerful narcotic effect when swallowed. Link’s lop-sided grin made a brief appearance. It didn’t get much easier than that, because he could sneak in, shovel a few handfuls of the stuff into his small sack, and run off before the addict even knew he was there.

Heart hammering in his chest, Link darted out of the crowd when he was close enough, and hurriedly set about shoving all the food he could get his hands one into the small sack that was one of his few possessions. It didn’t take long. Just a few seconds and the bag was completely full, and all the while the merchant just grinned stupidly at the ground. Still, Link didn’t breathe easy until he was safely back in his alley, spoils in hand.

Grinning happily as he inspected his haul, Link couldn’t help but feel a little smug. And Layfa thought I needed help, he thought to himself. There was enough food here to get all four of them through the day.

Layfa was Link’s best friend, and, at nine years old, she was one year his junior.