Ban wanted everything in the world.

It was an ambitious goal for a boy from Ravens. Most people in that city would have been content simply to have a full stomach every day. Even that small goal often eluded Ban, but it didn't stop him from hoping. He imagined sitting on a throne of gold, surrounded by treasures in a luxurious palace. He would lounge on velvet cushions while his parents knelt before him in their rags, groveling for his favor. And Ban would remember the bruises and the insults and the money they spent on bottles instead of food, and he would laugh in their faces before having them thrown in the dungeon.

It was a fantasy, but Ban wouldn't give it up. Nothing was impossible, not even for him. When he met Zhivago, he thought his luck had turned. The man was everything Ban wanted to be-strong, confident, agile. He took the possessions of others and easily made them his own. Ban was thrilled when Zhivago agreed to be his mentor. He did his best to master the lessons and beamed when the older man praised him.

Ban quietly altered his dreams to include Zhivago. When he owned the world, Ban decided, Zhivago would live with him at the palace. And Selion too, of course-his mentor's son deserved the best. Zhivago would stand at Ban's side when he sat on his throne, and the three of them would live together in comfort. The thought made Ban work even harder.

And then… and then Zhivago was gone.

Ban had tried to rob a manor by himself. He'd gotten caught and cursed his luck, but he was certain his beating wouldn't last long. Zhivago would show up at any minute and whisk him to safety like he always did.

Except that Zhivago never came. Ban was beaten bloody and he didn't come. Ban was dragged off to jail and he didn't come. Ban sat in a dark prison cell, whimpering in pain, and still Zhivago did not come. Ban wondered if it was a lesson. Then he wondered if it was a cruel joke. Then...he wondered if his luck had at last run out.

Eventually Ban's bruises healed, but his dreams never did. He still dreamed, but it was not of gold and palatial estates-it was of warm laughter and good food and of a hand stroking his hair as he dozed on the lap of someone he trusted.

Ban wanted everything in the world. But most of all, he wanted his father back.