It was the most rotten thing he could have done.

Ditching an orphan, leaving him behind with nothing in a town he was afraid of, and making off with all the supplies. If that didn't get the kid to leave him alone, nothing would!

But in Swaine's defense, it was for the best. He couldn't take care of a kid while living as a thief. Maybe if he were still a prince, he could be of help…

Once he got home to Marcassin and helped him out, he would make it up to the little beggar. Somehow. If he even remembered him.

First things, he had to find a way to Hamelin. He headed for the shore; perhaps he could use the things he stole as a bargain to get a ride to Autumnia.

As he walked, he began to ponder about how to meet with his brother. Perhaps he could make up some story, claiming he was on his way, but was jumped by bandits… No, of course not. He didn't want Marcassin to believe he needed protection. He wanted to show he made it along fine on his own, and had only come back because he heard his brother was in trouble, holding up his promise.

Then again, one look at him and Marcassin would catch him in a lie.

No, he couldn't reveal his identity; not until he proved himself worthy.

He stopped, looking himself over.

Memories came back to him; they were a bit foggy, as it was hard to remember everything 15 years ago. All he remembered was going up a dark trail with a young wizard, a girl, an older man, some lantern-faced fairy, and… another boy…

He pondered about this. It was evident that he was the older man… but how did he get sent to the past? How did he meet those other kids? When would he meet them?

He shook his head. He was starting to get a migraine thinking about it.

Plus, he had to stay focused on his goal…

*Thud!*

"Oof!"

…much less his surroundings, especially for any feet that appeared in his path. He looked up, seeing a couple men standing in front of and behind him; they were the same men who entered the Hootique. "Didn't think we would let you skip town, did you?" the first one, who had brown hair and a thin beard, scoffed.

"What do you bastards want?" Swaine sneered, trying to get back on his feet, but the man behind him planted his foot onto the thief's back, pinning him down.

"We recall you causing quite some excitement in the dell some time ago; not many people cared, though." The man behind him, with black hair and a long goatee, commented. "You stole from some sailors… yet no bounty was placed on your head,"

Swaine sneered. "If there's no bounty on my head, what is catching me worth to you?"

"You're a thief, we'll get a reward for catching you anyway, bounty or no bounty," the brown-haired man replied, then smirked. "…Maybe we'll get a hefty reward, if we give 'em a good story. Maybe that kid you had with you was kidnapped, and you were using him to swindle people,"

"He's not with you now… I suppose you dumped him off somewhere, right?" the black-haired man guessed, then gave a gruesome grin. "Or… maybe you wanted to make sure he kept quiet and slit his throat,"

Swaine grimaced. "I'm a thief, not a murderer. I left the kid back in town- the guards see him alive, and your story would be proven false," he muttered.

"…Not unless we made it look true," The brown-haired man unsheathed a dagger, turning it in his hand as if to admire the blade. "Poor boy- didn't know his 'daddy' was going to stab him in the back… or the heart."

Swaine's eyes widened. "You wouldn't-! Stay away from him, you bastard!" He forced himself up, pushing the man's leg off his back and drawing his gun. The two men backed away, though he kept his aim on the man with the dagger. "If you so much as lay a finger on him, I'll put a bullet right between your eyes!"

The man with brown hair smirked. "Then you'll listen to our demands, won't you? Give us the loot you stole, and we won't hurt your 'beloved son',"

So they're thieves too… the sadistic kind, Swaine thought. "Why? You'll probably kill me afterwards anyway. There's no honor among thieves,"

"Ha! Why bother? You're a thief yourself- no one will give a shit about what you have to say." The black-haired man laughed. "Now- hand over the goods, and that child won't get hurt,"

Swaine glared at them, then cocked his gun. "…I don't think either will happen." He summoned Gunther, having his familiar face the black-haired man while keeping his gun aimed at the other. Without hesitation, he shot one of the bandits with a Deadshot, knocking him unconscious; Gunther attacked the partner, slamming a fist in his face.

The black-haired man drew his own weapon, a short sword, and slashed at the Hurley, cutting its arm; the blade must have been sharpened to split a hair, as it nearly lopped Gunther's arm off. Swaine flinched, feeling its companion's pain, and quickly summoned him back while aiming his gun at the man.

*click*

He pulled the trigger again.

*click click*

He was out of bullets.

Dammit! Swaine cursed in his head, then switched the gun to its grappling-hook, deciding to swipe the sword from his foe. He fired, but the man dodged; the hook quickly retracted and he shot again, yet again the man dodged. He's quick, isn't he?

"Just hand over the loot, or I'll slice you in half!" The black-haired man snarled.

That gave the thief an idea. "Fine, you want it so bad, HERE!" he shouted, then threw the pack at the man.

His opponent staggered back, catching the bag…

…only to realize he dropped his sword while doing so. Swaine acted fast, grabbing the blade and pointing it at the man's friend. "Tell me… how much is your friend's life worth?" he asked.

The black-haired man gaped. "Y-You wouldn't! You said you weren't a murderer!"

"I'm not… but when it comes to defending myself, I have to make an exception. And considering you two crooks are more than just thieves, it's going to be tough to let either of you live. …Especially since your pal threatened a child. Tell me, if someone were to threaten your kid, would you want them walking the streets?"

"N-No… please, we weren't going to hurt him, honest! I-It was just a bluff! My brother is all talk and no action! Please, don't hurt him- I'll do anything!"

Brother, eh? Something Swaine could relate to… and use to his advantage. "Then give me back my supplies, and get out of my sight… Consider yourself lucky- next time, I won't spare either of you,"

The black-haired man nodded, then tried to throw the pack at Swaine the way the thief had done to him… but Swaine only stepped to the side and let the bag hit the ground. Honestly, the man was trying to use his own trick against him. How naïve.

Keeping the blade aimed at the brown-haired man, Swaine reached down and picked up the pack while keeping his eyes on the black-haired man. He then began to back away, keeping his eyes on his foe in case he tried to pull something, but the man only walked over to his brother to survey his damage. "Oi, wake up you louse…!" he muttered, tapping his brother's face to snap him out of unconsciousness.

Swaine smirked to himself, preparing to turn and run.

There came a sound from the bushes just then…

Something ran out.

Swaine gasped…

The black-haired man looked over, then shot his arm out, grabbing Shadow the moment the boy rushed past him.

The black haired man smirked at Swaine, standing over his brother while keeping the beggar in a choke-hold, his hand having a tight grip on the boy's head. "Well, well… how the tables have turned," he said with a sadistic smile.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Shadow had summoned Salem to look for Swaine, the Purrloiner following his scent like a bloodhound towards some foliage over the hill. Along the way they encountered a couple Ruffs, itching for a fight.

After the battle, the familiar grew tired, and Shadow had to summon him back. Seeing Swaine through some bushes, he didn't think he would need his familiar anyway…

Until he was grabbed by a stranger, whom he did not notice as he was so focused on finding the thief.

Now, it looked like they were both in trouble.

Swaine had a sword pointed at the man, but his hands were shaking. Gunther was at his side suddenly, ready for a fight.

"Ah, I wouldn't make any hasty moves if I were you," The stranger said, tightening his grip around Shadow's neck. "Summon back your pet and drop everything, or I snap the boy's neck!"

Shadow uttered a gasp, looking at Swaine.

The thief glared…

Then dropped everything, summoning back Gunther. He took a few steps back as the man walked forth, keeping a hold on Shadow in case the thief tried anything; he picked up the sword and sheathed it, then grabbed the pack. He then let Shadow go…

And punched Swaine, making the man fall back. Shadow scrambled to his side, glaring at the stranger.

By this point, another stranger was coming to. "Ugh… what happened?" he groaned, sitting up.

"Nothing- just bluffed a thief out of his loot. C'mon!" the first stranger said, forcing his comrade to his feet and the two took off.

Shadow winced. He looked at Swaine…

The thief was already storming off, cursing under his breath.

The beggar stood up, a sick feeling in his stomach; the man would have managed to get away from his foes, had Shadow been more careful… but he wasn't, and because of it they lost all their supplies.

He ran after Swaine, wanting to apologize, to state he'll make it up to him.

Swaine turned around, glaring at him, and Shadow froze.

The thief had his gun aimed right at him.

"One more step, and I shoot you dead," Swaine snarled, the venom in his tone lined with promise.