Fuyuko: Hi! Did you miss me? (cough) Erm, well, yes apologies are in order for the lateness of this chapter…

Krin'nal: No kidding. I wouldn't be surprised if they hired me to assassinate you for the lapse.

Fuyuko: No, no, that won't be necessary! is looking around nervously You good people wouldn't do that to me would you? It's all Mr. Hamster's fault! He skipped out on me!

Krin'nal: (Eyebrow is twitching) Get. To. The. Fic.

Fuyuko: …At any rate, I'm home again. Road trips are so boring, and they make me think the strangest things. For example, on the way down, I was spacing out, dreaming about DMC-specifically Dante on his motorcycle-when I all of a sudden thought about how cool a Chrno Crusade and DMC crossover would be. It was one of the most random things I have ever thought. Anyways, as for Anagram, I've been thinking about the later portions more than anything else, mostly because I need to organize them. Well, to make his grumpiness happy, here's Chapter Two of Anagram: Fehit.

Disclaimer-Bot: As Mr. Hamster is currently MIA, the Great and Marvelous Krin'nal has programmed me to tell you that he's quitting this story and calling his agent. The author has kindly asked me to say that she owns Krin'nal and all other nonstandard Zelda characters, thus she is their agent and Krin'nal can not therefore quit. She has also programmed me to say that she does not own the Legend of Zelda, Nintendo has its copyright. As always, please Read, Review, and Enjoy the Story! Have a Nice Day!

&

Anagram – Fehit

"My humble opinion is that if you don't like your life, don't try to have someone else change it for you. Get up off your own ass and do it yourself." -Rauru to Link

&

Sunrise was indeed a beautiful thing in Hyrule. Some people even thought that it was so beautiful, getting up to see it was a necessity. The local Cuccos even thought that it was pretty enough to be worthy of a crow or two. Other people-most of the land's people that is-didn't find sunrise so enthralling, and would have liked to have shot the Cuccos with an arrow or two. Ordinarily, Krin'nal was one of the later types.

Today, however, he could only blame himself for his rude awakening. He'd been foolish enough to sleep in the crate he'd been kicked out of once before, and as such, the boy had been crudely slapped awake, given a black eye, then tossed out on his face. To top it off, he hadn't even been able to grab his few belongings from his old life. Oh, sure, he had the dagger he'd brought with him, his magic pouch, and his empty wallet, but nothing else had been on him, so he'd lost everything-including the leftover portion of sandwich from yesterday. No way am I going back for it though, thought the boy as he limped slowly along, nursing his wounded pride more than anything else. Even he wasn't fool enough to take on a grown man who'd threatened to kill him if he ever saw the boy near his crate again. Especially just for a sandwich. He'd have to find another way to get food and other basic supplies for his new life.

Suppose I could live off the land, I mean, I do have plenty of experience with it. But I'd still need to get supplies and tools. Realizing he was back at square one, the boy gave long-suffering sigh as he walked slowly through the back alleys of Hyrule Castle Town. He really did need to find a way to make it in the world, but all he came up with was the thought that he was hungry. Wondering how smart running away really had been, he came into the main square, passing a cheese and dairy open-air store as he went. His stomach abruptly growled, reminding him of the lost sandwich and skipped breakfast.

That sure does look like good cheese…he glanced around, seeing that the only possible witness was some old guy slumped against a wall, probably drunk clean out. …And I never did get anything to drink last time. The boy's eyes skimmed over to the manager, who was busy chattering with the delivery-man of a milk shipment. Surely nobody would see him do it. Well, the Golden Ladies will, but they wouldn't mind me using my talents to try it, would they? C'mon, they gave me those talents afterall. True that he'd never tried to use his talents to steal before, but he was rather skilled when it came to using his hands. A friend of his in his first life had once remarked on this gift, telling the youth that since he was so stealthy and swift as a warrior, he'd make a good thief too. The boy glanced furtively around one more time for good measure-it never hurt to double-check one's self, even if you were sure of your self. The old man was still against the wall; he made no signs of awareness. The owner of the dairy store was helping the delivery-man put crates of milk on the ground. They were both oblivious to it.

The boy's stomach growled again. In that same moment, a hand swept under and around a wheel of yellow cheese, dotted with nuts. Two swift, silent, catlike strides later a bottle of Chateau Romani was gone from a newly opened crate. In the blink of an eye, so was the boy.

When the owner of the dairy mart later reported it, the guards didn't take him too seriously. Afterall, he'd never even known anyone was close enough to steal his wares. It was put down in the Guard's records as being suspicious, but not worth investigating. It would later be pulled back out, re-investigated, and compiled into the huge file compromised of unsolved "Anagrams"-as the mysterious calling card thefts came to be called.

On that same day, under the sinking sun, a young boy with dark blonde hair and blue eyes sat eating a wedge of yellow nut cheese, with a half-full bottle of Chateau Romani close at hand. He had decided. From this day forward, he was no longer who he had once been; though he might return briefly for a formal closure to his past life. He was not a servant of others anymore, now he served himself from the plates of others-and yet, he was still a servant, still himself. I am not who I was before, and yet I am still me. My self has become jumbled, thought the boy, I am an anagram, and because of that I am the now one who will be known as Krin'nal.

&

Shortly after Krin'nal had snuck away from his debut robbery, the old man slumped near the stand took a moment to reorganize his thoughts over what he had witnessed. He was pretty sure the kid hadn't known he was awake, but he was also sure that he'd never seen anyone with that kind of skill before in the underground. Watching as the guards came running up, alerted by the departed delivery-man, he noticed that they too looked baffled by the crime. By eavesdropping he could hear them grumbling about how there wasn't 'substantial evidence' to even merit a crime, not even the slightest clue or trail leftover by the 'invisible cheese thief'. The guards were just about to leave the crime and put it down as unsolved and probably a false alarm when the vendor spotted him. Seeing the flustered store-owner point over at him, the old man prepared himself for the questioning he knew was on its way.

One of the younger guards stepped over to him, keeping his spear in a non-threatening position. "We're sorry, sir, but the owner of this dairy store seems to think you might know something of the, um, robbery, that might have occurred here." He looked a bit embarrassed as he spoke, almost as if he was ashamed to be 'investigating' a 'fake' crime. The old man turned over what he had seen in his mind, debating whether the guards would believe it, and if it was worth it to report the kid. The boy had looked pretty scrawny; probably a poor waif who just got a little hungry and was mostly harmless.

"If you know anything at all, you might as well tell us." An older guard had spoken this time, and he seemed to be taking the situation a bit more seriously. 'Trouble with the law's never a good thing,' thought the old man before he spoke.

"Ay, I might have seen somethin'. I was sittin' here restin' my tired eyes when it happened, but I'm mighty sure that I saw a young lad around here a little bit ago."

"And do you think that the boy might have made off with some of the wares from this dairy store?"

"Well, now, I'm none to sure of that notion. The boy weren't standin' very near to anything, but he still might o' done something. Can't be too sure, seenin' as how I was restin' myself."

"Thank you for your aid, sir." The older guard turned to go, telling the owner there was nothing more they could do at the moment. The younger guard followed his senior out, thanking the old man, and apologizing to the vendor for not being able to help him further. The old man decided it was time to cut himself out of the scene, he needed to get back to his home and reclaim it if necessary. He'd just gotten back from carrying out a 'crime' himself, a week-long attempt to assassinate a wizard that was undermining his lord employer. 'Not to mention that I might as well head over to Vern's and see if he knows anything of a new face in the underground. 'Tis not likely that he will, seenin' as how that was probably just some kid off of the streets.'

Limping slightly through the back alleys, the grizzled old fellow came to a stop in front of a large building with a decorated sign hanging over it's doorway. Sighing as he looked past the sign to the sinking sun, the old man braced himself for the burst of noise and action that assaulted him as he walked into the Chaste Chasm during the start of the evening party hours. There were several girls walking around in clothes meant to catch a man's eye, and many more men were leering at them from behind glasses of ale and whiskey near the bar and around tables. On the stage there was a Goron comedian, who had a surprisingly large crowd around him, all laughing hard. Having settled himself on an isolated bar stool, the old man waited for the barkeep to come over to him.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn't my old friend Getado." The short barkeep stood in front of the man, smiling as he pulled down a shot glass and dusted it off for good measure. "What can I do for you? The regular?"

"Ay, grab me a shot o' fire whiskey."

"Sure. How was that last mission, my old friend? You look a bit frazzled."

"Hn. 'Tis naught to do with the mission, a week of wizard chasin' ain't too much for me." Vern noticed that his old war buddy looked a bit loathe to elaborate on why he looked so mixed up, and was expecting to have to prompt the man again when Getado suddenly drained his drink and held the shot out for another. The bar owner poured one as requested, making note to watch his friend's intake-he preferred to keep his patrons, no matter who they were, from being roaring drunk. Swirling the glass in his hand and watching the reddish liquid contemplatively, the old hired blade began speaking again.

"More likely I look 'a bit frazzled' because I've had the pleasure to see the queerest thing today. I was restin' myself a bit in one of the store alleys, ya see, from my job, when this kid walks up out of nowhere."

"Kids walk up from nowhere all the time, Getado. In fact, most people do."

"Maybe so, but that's not the thing that's queer, old friend."

"Well then, what was?"

"This kid looked all scrawny, and he seemed right harmless, but I can swear that I saw him rob the dairy store that I was restin' across from. 'Tis not the robbin' that was odd though, 'tis the fact that the boy seemed to just be able to do it without any type of thinkin' at all."

"I see. Well, he must be a new prodigy then, because I haven't heard of any thieves like that, not even recently. It's more likely that you were to tired to see any flaws in his 'skills', and it was just a hungry brat that got lucky." Getado nodded at Vern's admission, he'd expected as much. Finishing off the last swig of his shot, the hired blade stood up from the bar, tossing a pair of purple rupees at his friend. Vern put the rupees into a box behind the bar's left corner, watching his old blade buddy's back disappear through the entrance of the Chaste Chasm.

&

Krin'nal crept along the sidewall of one of the back alleys, staying under the cover of the shadows from the rooftops. He was in one of the 'better' alleyways, hoping to find himself a place to stay for the night, after having been kicked out of a rundown hotel he'd tried to sneak into. So far, his luck had been bad. What's with this place? Every time I think I've found a good spot, either the doors and windows are boarded shut, or there's already someone in it! The young thief fumed to himself quietly, growing increasingly agitated with his luck, but knowing that he couldn't risk trying to take over something that just seemed vacant. There's no way in the Sacred Realm that I want a repeat of this morning. Just thinking about the incident made his black eye throb.

The boy thief stopped in his tracks as his shadows ended and he saw what was illuminated by the moonlight ahead of him. It was a small shack, probably a storage shed at one point in its former life, but it now appeared to be abandoned-completely. Hoping that he wasn't wrong, the youth cracked open the rotting door, glancing inside doubtfully.

It looks like there really is nobody here. Stepping inside of the structure, the boy noticed that it did look as though it had been inhabited at one point, but hadn't been used very recently. If I'm lucky, it'll stay that way, and nobody will boot me out tomorrow morning.

The shack had a homemade table and a couple of chairs in one side of it, and a crate that looked as though it could be used for both storage and a countertop. In the far back right corner, there was an old cot with a crate at its foot. Krin'nal couldn't make out any other details in only the moonlight, but he thought that the crate near the bed looked like it had some leftover junk in it. I've gotten lucky enough to find this place deserted, now I just need my luck to provide me with a candle and a match. Or even just a piece of flint, since there's plenty of trash for kindling in the alley.

The youth walked silently over to the aforementioned crate, at first surprised by how silent the floor was-before realizing it was dirt. Digging through its contents, Krin'nal came across a thin sheet and a worn, patched up quilt, as well as a small round pillow. Further down he found a box that appeared to be unopenable, since he couldn't find a matching key, and a tin with some hard-tack biscuits and jerkey in it. Near the bottom of the crate there was a whetstone, a piece of flint, and a leather bag that revealed itself to be carrying a small dagger and a couple of Deku Nuts.

Well, now, isn't that just handy? I've got everything I need to make myself comfy for quite a while. The youthful thief's lips slid into his characteristic smirk. Pocketing the dagger, he replaced everything else back into the crate except the flint, which he casually flipped in his hand as he ambled back outside to get some junk kindling. His eyes caught on a shallow metallic washbasin that he could 'borrow' for a fire-pit as he picked up old wood, paper, and cloth scraps to burn. His hands snatched it up on his way back inside his newly acquired shack.

Life just keeps getting better and better all the time, thought the boy as he dozed in the quilt before his merrily burning blaze, and here I thought my new freedom had come with a price. Drifting further into the black void of heavy sleep as his the fire in his makeshift hearth died, the inexperienced thief failed to realize that his simplistic life was about to get ten times more complex.

&

There's always a price to pay, and there's always something that must be given up in exchange to gain another thing. Krin'nal's price was coming with the old man who was walking slowly toward the shack in the far end of one of Castle Town's back alleys. Though the man he was about to meet meant him no harm, the old fellow would be the one to set Krin'nal on a path that held both his rise in the underground and his fall from the grace he had once possessed in his past life-forever. Old Getado continued limping slowly towards his home, unable to see the future he was about to set in motion. Krin'nal slept on, caught unawares in the net that fate was weaving around him.

Getado's feet stopped outside the ramshackle place that he called home, as caught his breath and took note of the alley around him. Seeing that there weren't any 'suspicious buggers' in the immediate area, and that nothing seemed out of place about his abode, the man pushed open the fragile door gently, wanting to preserve it for as long as possible. There was no way that he could afford a new door with his living, being a hired blade wasn't easy afterall. The sight that greeted his eyes, however, had the old man forgetting all this as he allowed the door to swing back on its rusty hinges to slam shut in his state of shock.

He'd only been gone a week and his house had apparently been taken over by some street kid. A scrawny, blonde-haired street kid who looked very familiar-the older man hadn't forgotten the look of the cheese thief he'd witnessed earlier. Getado saw that the kid was wrapped up in his old quilt, slouched in front of the embers that were still a little red in their washbasin pit. He also saw that besides the clothes on his small frame the kid appeared to have nothing on him and as far as the hired blade knew, nothing to his name either. Dumbfounded, the old hired blade felt the kid worming his way into his soft heart without any effort-not even a "help me" or "please" was needed. Sighing as he realized he had a long night ahead of him, Getado sunk down into one of his chairs to wait for the strange kid to wake, wondering himself just what he was going to do about this new situation.

Unfortunately for both him and his new roommate, the powers that be just weren't willing to give either of them the time to relax anymore. Getado gulped as he saw the kid stirring, stretching his arms out of the quilt and heard his breathing rate rise. The boy's eyes blinked open suddenly, darting around the room like those of any veteran warrior-or thief for that matter. They focused on the hired blade's rough face, and he knew he was in for a few bumps in his road of life.

"Who the heck are you, old geezer?" The kid jumped up from the floor, the quilt pooling at his spread feet. Getado noticed the stance looked like one a fighter might use, but it wasn't that of a novice.

"Well, kiddo, I'm what ya might consider the owner of this house. Seenin' as how I lived here before you settled in."

"…" The boy was silent, his eyes wide and his jaw slack, attempting to close itself, flopping like the mouth of a fish. Getado sighed, the kid hadn't been expecting that, and if he wasn't mistaken it looked like his new roommate was a bit frightened because of this new twist in his road in life.

"Quit yah gummin' and listen up kiddo, cause I'm only goin' to say this once. I can tell from here that you haven't got a thing but yahself and what ya can put on yahself in this world, and I'd rather not be feelin' guilty for kickin' ya out later. 'Cause o' that, I might be willin' to keep ya up here, if ya can prove yahself worth the trouble." He paused, noting with a strange sense of pride that the intruding kid was solely focused on what Getado was saying to him. It was rare to see a young one with such a good attention span, even rarer to see one that looked like he was using his own head to actually think about the information he was being given-maybe the kid was more than what he looked like.

"Prove myself? What do I need to 'prove mahself' to you for, gramps?" Krin'nal's eyes scrunched up a bit, slanted and slitted dangerously, a testament to his growing mistrust. There was nothing that could make him be a servant to anyone other than himself ever again, and he wasn't about to prove himself to some old man. Proving himself had always led to a destiny of serving the whims of others in his past lives-surely this old man offered nothing different.

"Well, kiddo, I happened to see ya little stunt with the dairy owner today, damned if I've ever seen a thief quiet like yahself before. Ya could make something o' yahself if ya knew where to go to put those skills to the test in the underground, and I could tell ya where to go, assumin' ya prove yahself to me first."

"What's in it for me? I'm fine just how I am, without your so called help."

"I don't doubt it, kiddo, I don't doubt it. But I'm sure ya won't be sayin' that when ya can't feed yahself next time. Gettin' a job in the underground would give ya the cash ya need to survive out here."

"…So what would I need to do for proof?"

"Just show me your skills, again, this old geezer has got to be sure his old eyes weren't foolin' him before."

Hook, line, and sinker. Getado could tell he'd just caught the young thief, even before he'd heard the boy's next words. Not that it mattered much, the boy would probably have found his way into an underground job sooner or later, but it was probably better to break him in this way. The life of a hired blade, or even a thief, it was never an easy thing to get comfortable in, but some ways of falling into it were better than others. Krin'nal could tell he'd just done himself a favor, roping in support and a new piece to his new life all in one fell swoop. Not that it mattered much, the old man probably just gave him the push he needed to get back on track, but it didn't hurt to gain a few allies. The life he'd chosen for himself didn't seem so bad afterall.

"Give me the place, the time, the item, and the rules. I'll do it."

&

Rob the pawnshop on the corner o' Syks and Graf. I don't exactly care what you take a five-fingered discount on, kiddo, just so long as I can see ya steal it from wherever I'm watching. Those had been the last words the old man had exchanged with the budding thief, before preceding him into said pawnshop. Krin'nal was still standing outside it, plotting not his next theft, but what would most impress the old fellow-he was clearly a veteran in underhanded business. Besides, it had been an unspoken understanding that Krin'nal should delay his entry and avoid contact with his first 'employer' so that things didn't look suspicious. Even as a rookie, he knew better than to upset the pending victim-it was always worse when they were jumpy.

So basically I can do whatever I want in there, take whatever suits me, as long as I don't trip any alarms or alert any witnesses except the old guy. Twice in less than twenty-four hours that he was going to be using his Goddess-given skills to rob someone. At least this time it wasn't some poor dairy vendor, no, this time it was a pawnshop owner who reputedly had only fine things. According to the old man, whom he'd learned was named Getado, this particular pawn dealer own swapped goods with the nobles-which suited Krin'nal just fine. He'd never be able to live with himself if he was stealing from the common Hylian on the streets, they were in the same situation he had been in, and they didn't deserve to suffer. Figuring that a good quarter of an hour had passed, the prodigy thief walked into the pawnshop on Syks and Graf. Let's do this, shall we, hands?

He could see Getado conversing with the pawnbroker, talking about some cheap looking oil lamp if they're hand motions were any indication. The broker looked coolly at the thief when he entered, raising the fingers of his hand slightly off the glass display counter in greeting. He has no idea what I'm about to do to him. Heh, too easy, smirked the thief as he strolled to a matching glass display counter. The only difference between the two counters was that the one the old men were leaning on was filled with household items, and this one was filled with what the boy liked to call 'Krin'nalware'-a vast array of swords, throwing knives, daggers, and other weapons of destruction.

Krin'nal perused the display, looking for one he liked, might as well arm myself with something really good for my new job if I'm going to be stealing anyway. There were quite a few ornate daggers and swords, but most of them looked a bit gaudy to him, and even though he didn't mind having a weapon that was dazzling in design, he much preferred to have one that was functional. The other thing that kept him away from the ornate weapons was the fact that most of them looked a bit too hard to conceal easily. He needed something impressive, sure, but he also needed something that was readily obtainable to his skillful hands. That obviously limited him to daggers and the smaller throwing weapons, but it didn't limit him other than keeping away from the ones with bulky sheathes and handles. Not that I'd want anything bulky, it just doesn't work out in battle, too unwieldly. Krin'nal strolled calmly further along the case, his eyes jumping to a section that was under lock and key. Those are probably the cream of the crop, he mused, and stealing one from there would certainly grab the old guy's attention.

Glancing at the old geezer, the young thief noticed that he and the pawnshop owner had broken off discussing the lamp, and the old guy was now pretending to peruse some other light fixtures. The pawn shop owner was putting the lamp back in its case, being careful with it, probably it was some noble's delicate antique. Even better, he smirked, I can steal myself something right out from under the dealer's nose. His smirk grew a bit as felt Getado's eyes slip to him, trying to signal him to get a move on with it. Just chill out, gramps, I'll give you your proof.

"May I help you find something, my boy?" The pawnbroker smiled broadly with his eyes closed, but when he opened them, Krin'nal could see that in their glittering gray-green depths that he was not a kind old gentleman. It only made the prodigy want to steal from him more.

"Actually, I was looking for a dagger for my sister. Her husband's manor is near a shady district in Arryn Town, and she's nervous over it all of her days and nights. I thought it might provide her with a measure of comfort to have a dagger with her little brother's love." Ordinarily the long-winded speech of the nobles made him want to gag, but he wasn't going to lie and say it didn't have its uses. It was no small wonder they controlled everyone else so easily, with the honeyed words they spewed from their mouths. After wasting so much time being controlled by sweet words himself, Krin'nal found an ironic sense of twisted humor in being able to use their speech and mannerisms against them.

"Well, if you're only looking to comfort her, and not actually for something that would need to be used as a weapon, I'd suggest a slim lady's dagger. They're very easily concealed, and they are often beautifully designed." AS he spoke, the elderly pawnbroker had unlocked the case Krin'nal had been hoping to pilfer from, and pulled out a slender dagger with a curved hilt made to look like a lion's head at its pommel. Krin'nal toyed with the idea of stealing it for only a moment, before noting that the sheath wobbled loosely around the blade inside.

"It's a very lovely model sir, but the blade doesn't look like it fits snugly into its fine casing. I'd like to comfort her, but I'd also not like to have her accidentally cut herself on it. Ladies don't really know how to handle weapons."

"Of course. Perhaps a simpler model, something with less intricacy to fumble with, and a better fit into its casing." The man 's hand filtered through an assortment of smaller daggers, bypassing those with ornate but hefty cases and handles, pausing near a half buried dagger that had only the tip of its pale emerald sheath sticking out. "This one is a rather fine make, a family legacy, it was handed over when the Lutilide family lost their status about thirty years ago. Supposedly it was entrusted to them by a guardian sprite that made her home in their garden fountain, though I suspect it was commissioned of a local blacksmith for a daughter." He held the emerald sheathed dagger out to the thief, and Krin'nal knew that this was the blade he wanted for himself. Now al he had to do was snatch into his hands, hands that actually deserved the splendid work. He could feel the old hired blade's eyes on him, so there really wasn't a point in waiting to show off his skills, he just needed to distract the store's creepy owner first.

"That is indeed a fine dagger for a lady such as my sister, it is both a stunning beauty and a practical tool. However, I happened to see one that might suit her wardrobe a little better, she has a great amount of golden and ruby colored dresses, you see. There's a little dagger with a gold chain on its hilt over to the right a tad, its red casing and gold metal trimmings would be the perfect match for her tastes." Krin'nal tilted his hand carelessly towards the dagger he had described, being sure not to look at it, performing the part of a choosy noble son perfectly. Distraction tactics, they're a good thing, he thought, saying instead, "I think that I may look over this one whilst you retrieve the other." The dealer nodded solemnly, never suspecting that he was about to get stolen from. Krin'nal hefted the emerald dagger into his left hand, unsheathed it to see that its blade was indeed a fine forge, then swiftly replaced it up to its jeweled hilt and just as quickly placing it into his tunic.

"I'm so to have troubled you like this, sir, but it seems that my coach has come to take me to dinner. We will have to bargain again some other day. Tes keran(1), my friend!" Not sparing either of the old men a glance, the boy thief swept out the door with as much regal bearing as he could put into his step without gagging himself. Like I said, too easy.

Ambling slowly down Syks Avenue, the prodigy could tell he had been followed out of the store by Getado, the old hired blade that had 'employed' him. A smirk appeared on his face when he turned around to see the man looking at him like a strange creature, eyes bugging out slightly, and a muscle twitching near his jaw.

"Impressed yet, old geezer? Or do you think your eyes fooled you again?"

"…Ay, kiddo, I'm impressed with ya. If ya can keep up a skill, nay a blessin', like that, I'd be happy to point ya over to the right place to get underground work."

"Well, then, why don't we head over to this special place? I think I'd like to get started right away."

The recovering old man nodded stiffly, still a bit shocked by the prodigy he had with him. They continued down the street, turning into the alleys as soon as possible, and twisting through them until they reached a doorway with an intricate wooden sign over it that read 'Chaste Chasm'. Krin'nal wavered as they approached the doorway to the establishment, he'd never been in a bar before, much less one in the back alleys-he'd heard they were much worse.

"Ya comin' or not, kiddo? My buddy won't want to deal with ya once his business opens." Getado held the door ajar, seeing the kid look truly hesitant for the first time. The kid, in response, steeled his courage and walked through the door into the next stage of his life.

&

"We're closed still, can't you read!" A disembodied, disgruntled voice filtered to the young Krin'nal's ears, which turned a little red in responsive embarrassment and a touch of indignation.

"O' course I can read Vern! I just thought I'd stop by and pester ya some more afore another day went out! 'Sides, I got someone with me that might interest ya!" Getado didn't seem fazed by the voice that had greeted the pair when they'd entered. The fact helped bolster the bravado of the boy next to him, but not enough to keep him from starting when the voice came again, this time from directly in front of them. It belong to a very short man, who although he looked a bit ticked, was actually happy to see Getado, from the mirth in his eyes.

"Have kids, did you, old friend? I almost don't want to ask."

"Nah, 'tis not my kid. This here is that little thief I was tellin' ya about yesterday. Found him in my own shack earlier today."

"Really? That's a heck of a coincidence." Vern's eyes shifted over to the boy next to Getado. "So you're really a prodigy thief, kid?" He watched the kid swallow hard, his eyebrow quirking up in humor.

"Y-yeah, I'm pretty good with my hands. I-I'm no r-rookie, shorty." It was both admirable and humorous to the two old friends how much the boy stuttered, even as he put on his game face and tried to sound sure of himself.

"Well, then, welcome to the underground kid, but first, welcome to Chaste Chasm. I own this place, if you couldn't tell, and I hand out jobs here to all types of men for hire. Thieves, assassins, jacks-of-all-trades, but mostly just the average hired blade like Getado here."

"…Okay. What do I have to do next?"

"Next? Next you gotta learn that you can't stutter like that or get all shy in front of anyone else you meet in this line of work, because it's a weakness they'll exploit. Kinda like they'll exploit the fact that you're a kid still. No problem there though, we'll just cover you up with a cloak or something." Getado nodded, seeing his new charge relax with his new surroundings, the kid would be just fine in the underground, as adaptable as he was to change. Vern muttered something about asking the missus for a cloak though, and the hired blade blanched a bit. Krin'nal just managed to hide his confusion, knowing he'd get an answer soon enough.

"Vern says there's a person here that needs a simple disguise…merciful Goddesses, a poor little child! What in the names of the Golden Ladies are you doing bringing a boy child like that in here, Getado!" The 'poor little child' got his answer all right, complete with Wresta's incessant but well-meant mothering. Vern came back in the room at the sound of her voice, only to see his blade buddy hunched over moodily at a corner table, grumbling about crazed, overprotective mother hens.

Wresta was nowhere to be seen but her voice drifted over from a corner closet, "I just know that I put those pants in here somewhere…ah, there they are! Deary me, I hope they won't be to big on him, the poor little boy looks like a rail, he's so skinny and small! Now, let's see here, these pants are thick enough to keep a chill off his legs, but that tunic of his is too old and raggedy to keep him warm, so he'll need a new one, and then a cloak for those extra chilly nights…" His wife's voice trailed off, chronicling her motherly search. The boy looked a bit shell-shocked from where he still sat on a barstool. Vern chuckled to himself at the strange scene in his tavern, life was certainly going to be more interesting with Krin'nal around, if nothing else. He slapped the 'poor child' heartily on the back as he passed him on the way to console his old friend.

"Yah wife is a right demon, did ya know that Vern? Knocked me off o' my seat to get to that little runt and coddle him, the devil woman."

"Wresta means well, my friend, besides she's never had any children of her own to 'coddle'. You know that."

"Ay, but she didn't have to knock me flat on my backside. I'm not so young as I used to be."

"None of us are, my friend, but at least we're all still alive and healthy, right? Speaking of which, have a shot of this new one, it might cheer you up." Vern filled two shot glasses with a amber liquid flecked with ruby, raising his in a toast to their good health and good luck for their futures, watching Wresta come back down the stairs to grab Krin'nal and haul him off to change out of his 'raggedy tunic'. Getado raised his as well, not really able to pity the boy he'd brought here, still sour over being knocked around by an old matron for his aid to said boy. Both men chuckled though, hearing the boy get smothered with affection by Wresta from behind the stage.

"I don't envy the kiddo, ya know that Vern?"

"Neither do I, Getado, neither do I." The two old friends both downed their shots, wiping their mouths simultaneously as Wresta came fussing back into the room, pushing Krin'nal in front of her.

"Well, I've done the best I can, but really Getado, the boy could use some better clothes, he's still just a small thing. Vern, honey, I don't think the pants fit him snugly across the hips, but they were the smallest pair I could find. Do you think they're good enough? And the cloak's a tad bit too long, you don't think he'll trip, do you?"

"No dear, he'll be fine. The pants are fine too, honey, so don't worry about it."

"Ay, he's a growing one, that kiddo, he'll fit into them pants soon enough."

Silence reigned as Wresta smoothed out the boy's sunny hair with her hand, and the two men relaxed from having to placate her over-developed sense of motherhood. None of the three of them had been expecting the boy to say anything, but none of them were too shocked when he did.

"I'm not a child, you know. I can take care of myself."

&Flashforward&

"I'm not a child you know, Vern. I've been taking care of myself for a while now. Speaking of which, have you got a job for me or not?" Krin'nal, the thirteen year old prodigy thief, sat opposite one of the few people he'd ever let help him. Vern looked back across at the boy he and his wife had watched over for so long after Getado had first introduced them, wondering if he should let the kid take the only mission he'd heard about in the boy's line of work. The boy was right, he wasn't child, and maybe it was time to let him spread his wings and fly out on his own-they'd all still be there to catch him anyway.

"Well, kid, I have got one job, but the only details I can give is that the employer wants to give you the actual job himself. All I'm supposed to do is send him a man for hire."

"Sounds like fun. I suppose I get his name and address then? Maybe I can scare the crap out of him when I show up for my job briefing."

"Maybe, but I doubt it. The guy doesn't seem like your regular rich pushover." Krin'nal digested this information slowly, fingering a emerald dagger with a jeweled hilt and sheath. Vern recognized it as the one Getado had let the boy steal for proof three years ago, as he watched the thief process the details he already had.

A rich employer, but not a stupid one, huh? That adds to my list of strange things that I've seen in this world, for one thing. It also makes me curious, because last time I was there-and I would know-there weren't very many nobles that weren't the least bit stupid or cowardly. I should probably take the mission, just to see who this person is…they must have something really good on the line.

"Well? The guy's probably waiting for a competent thief, and I know you don't want some second-rater taking a job like this."

"True. Give me the address of this guy, Vern. I'd like to show him how prompt I can be, by getting there tonight, and starting my new job ASAP." Vern nodded, signaling for Krin'nal to come with him to the back of the tavern, where there was privacy to talk about jobs that employers wanted secret. And that, the boy thief thought, makes this even more interesting than it already was. He followed the barkeep into the back, the light growing dimmer as he went to get the details for this very curious, mysterious employer. Heh, yep, this will doubtlessly be interesting, if nothing else.

&

Fuyuko: Oh look, another cliffhanger. Sorry again, but this chapter was getting too long compared to the others. Then again, it probably makes you all happy since it was so late to begin with…I had too much stuff going on after I got back, seriously. At any rate, that's the end of the flashback, hope it wasn't too confusing. It was never fully beta'd because my beta-DarkFoxx, a.k.a. Foxxkun-didn't want to read it before I posted it. So if you see any glaring errors, grammar or otherwise, just let me know, okay, and I'll try to get them fixed.

(1)Oh! And as to the "Tes keran" thing, I thought the Hylian nobility needed to have their own little snobbish way of separating themselves from the common people by speaking 'Ancient/Old Hylian'. "Tes keran" is kind of like saying "until we meet again". Purely an experiment on my part, so let me know what you thought.

Krin'nal: Since this one took so long, does that mean I don't get a break between the next chapter and this one? Or are you not going to be sadistic and let me have a rest again?

Fuyuko: Depends. Right now, since you're being uncommonly nice, you might get a break, but it's really up to the readers and how much they want to get to the next chapter. And from the looks of things, you're screwed, little thief.

Readers: More Story! More Story! No Breaks for Characters! marching around with signs and pitchforks.

Krin'nal: (whimper) Help me, please! I never did anything to deserve this level of abuse!

Fuyuko…Okay, now I know there's something wrong with him. Too bad Mr. Hamster isn't here to fix it. I'm beginning to think he's not coming back from his so-called vacation. Oh, and once again, thank you to all my reviewers: E1pnvn, Master of Reality, and Greki. Thanks to Foxxkun for beta-ing and for telling me nicely to get my butt back in this chair to type.

Read and Review or be Forced to Hunt for Mr. Hamster!