When Jaron realized that no one was staring at him or bowing before him, he grinned. A huge, bad-boy, Sage grin. It took him a couple minutes to sink into his old life, but not exceedingly long. After only a moment, he was looking out at the world through the eyes of a thief. The thought of how he would steal dinner that night, the idea of bathes prosperous, and knowing that he could talk crass and no one would care. After all, he'd always been more comfortable as a peasant then a prince.

Sage sunk through a popular marketplace for commoners, searching for a place where he could steal his first meal. He saw a man that had bowed to him not a week before when Imogen had insisted they buy something for the meager shop to support the local business. He probably wouldn't recognize him now, but just in case he steered clear of the shopkeeper. Sage noticed an elderly woman selling fruit on the corner, with what looked like poor eyesight. Perfect. He crept over there, a growing smirk sneaking its way onto his face. Deciding the best way to rob her blind was too distract the old lady he asked,

"Ma'am? How much do these peaches cost?"

The woman peered over a pair of bent glasses. "It depends. Do you want the rotten ones or the clean ones?"

"Er…" Sage gulped as his nimble hands sorted its way through some strawberries, looking for the ripest ones to stuff his pockets with. "The clean ones."

The elderly woman sighed. "Alright son. That'll cost you seven garlins. But excuse me sir, you don't look the type to carry such money."

"Let me see," Sage said, trying to sound calm well he stole seven garlins out of her money pail. "Will this be enough?"

The woman leaned in close to see them, and spotted Sage press a stolen apple into his ripped jacket. "Thief! Thief!"

Dropping the stolen garlins into her hands he fled the scene and ran into a nearby alleyway. Privately, Sage cursed himself for adding that extra robber guard to the marketplaces. He glanced around a barrel and was spotted by a particularly big soldier that he recognized as Sir Yessir. Uh-oh. Flinging himself through the streets, he could hear the soldiers approach him. If he was caught, he was dead. If he was recognized, Sage could only imagine the torture Mott would bring upon him. He ducked behind a sack of molding potatoes and prayed for them to pass.

To his surprise, a street boy helped him. "He went that way, sirs." The boy pointed through a series of intricate alleyways that would have the soldiers far off his trail in no time. Thank goodness for strangers. Nodding curtly at him, the boy motioned for Sage to follow. They trotted into an old station house, and Sage finally got a good look at the teenager. He was tall and had night black hair that matched his tornado gray eyes. His clothing suggested poverty, but that was no shock to the young king. Taking a deep breath Sage asked, bewildered,

"How can I thank you? Why did you help me?"

The boy smiled. "It's what any good thief does for his equal. Call me Toss. Where are you from… what do they call you?"

"Sage." Sage's heart was beating as he said it. He always worked alone. Always. And where was he from? He couldn't say Avenia anymore, he'd blown that cover by speaking in his usual Carthyan accent. "I'm a runaway from a farm up north."

Toss arched an eyebrow. "A runaway, eh? New to the thieving business?"

"Not exactly," Sage stumbled over his words, trying to recall the way he usually lied to people. "I used to steal from the kitchens all the time."

Toss laughed. "The kitchen and the real world are two very different things, kid. Have you a place to stay?"

"Um…" Sage had planned on sleeping in some gutter or the stables of some noblemen's home. "Yeah. It's called the streets."

Toss rolled his eyes. "You can't stay out there with the rain that's approaching. Follow me." The part of Sage that was Jaron wanted to go with him, for the sake of having a bed to sleep in. The part of Sage that was the king had to go with him, so he could finally understand the kid gangs that had slowly taken over his city. The part of Sage that was Sage wanted to run as far away from this Toss kid as possible, he worked alone. ALONE. But the boy was fiddling with a battered dagger, and he appeared to know how to use it. Sage had a dagger too, but it was hidden his boot, and he had no intention of wrecking the advantage of surprise just yet.

So, Sage cautiously followed the tall, young, thief who could well be taking him to his doom.

Payton was a Yellow Cut. She'd been a member of the street gang since she was 8 and considered the shack they stayed in her home and the other members her family. With skills like pickpocketing, disguises, nursing, and being able to calm the other Cuts, she was accepted as second-in-command who nobody listened to except when their leader, Toss, was on a mission or out late.

But today… today she was nobleman's daughter. At least she looked the part. Her black hair was tied up in an extensive fashion and little fake rubies that Rollo, the youngest, had stolen from the market were slid into her hair net. She wore Barret and Jarret's, a pair of identical albinism twins who could sew anything, finest made gown that matched her fan and hid her worn broken shoes. Behind an intricately decorated robbed fan, her dark eyes searched the nicer streets of Carthya's capitol. Today, she had been tasked to scout out Lord Kerwyn's home, because their leader, Toss, had taken a mission to steal a large money-filled chest from the huge mansion.

"Gooday!" Spinning around, she saw the recognizable figure of Kerwyn's grandson Xavier. "Can I help you and do I know you?" He trotted down from the path to the Palace Plaza and had clearly been in deep thought. Payton scanned the rich young man. One pocket clearly held several garlins, his hand clutched a furiously scribbled on paper, and from the I-think-you-can't-tell-what-I'm-thinking emotionless expression, he was very confused at her presence. She figured she had about 4.7 seconds to think of some excuse, 3.28 minutes to explain it, and 14 milliseconds to run for the hills if he didn't believe her.

Payton put on her sweetest smile. "I'm Countess Jacqueline. I was wondering if your grandfather is free, I would like to speak to him about my taxes." She waved her fan for effect, praying that the know-it-all man wouldn't recognize her quickly-thought-out-and-probably-failure fib.

"Well," Lord Xavier furrowed his brow. "I'm afraid he's busy right now but perhaps you could come back later?"

Breathing heavy in the tight corset, she said, "That's alright. I know he's a busy man. I have heard though, that your mother has an award-winning garden and would love to see it." Payton was determined to see the whole outside of the house, and the gardens were no exception.

"Fine. Follow me." The snob led her through a white picket fence to a spacious and highly decorated garden. No doubt he wondered why she stared more intently at the windows and loose stones, but Payton was an efficient 17-year-old, and she had no time to stop and smell the roses. The windows were wide and suitable for climbing through, although because of their narrow ledges, she expected a semi-circle table to be directly beneath them on the other side. The stones were wedged harder in the house than Toss would likely enjoy, but he was an extreme climber, and Payton wasn't too worried. After appearing to check out the flowers, though really, she was using her expert eye to tell if the bushes would be a good hiding spot, Payton waved her fan and said,

"Sir, I should be returning home. Thank you so much." As she turned around though her gown flew, showing off her frayed and shabby shoes.

Lord Xavier's eyebrows flew up on his forehead. "Countess did you say? Or are you some other fiend of the streets?" Payton's mind raced as she thought of excuses for her dirty feet adorned in worse condition shoes. She glanced around: there was no way out but the locked picket fence. Deciding that now was not the time for dignity, Payton tore off the outer skirt of her dress and threw her fan down, gathered her petticoats in hand, and ran as fast she could, preparing to jump the fence.

When Payton arrived back at the Yellow Cut base, her hair was disheveled and straggly, her gown was ripped and dirty from romping through the brook in Kerwyn's garden, and her shoes were long gone. But she was grinning.

"I escaped!" Payton cried triumphantly as she fell into a heap on the gang's ripped couch. "They saw my shoes, but I got away! Toss, you can get in by the…" But she stopped. Her unique family stood around her in a circle, but their leader was not with them. The colorless twins, Barret and Jarret, stood side-by-side with identical upset faces on her right. Rollo, an innocent 11-year-old, had the face of the crying baby at the moment slumped on her left. In the center was Viv, the only other girl, with a furious frown on her face.

Rollo spoke up first. "Toss isn't back yet from the market. He's been gone for over an hour." Payton sucked in her breath. Toss never took longer than half an hour to steal the groceries unless he got caught by the Carthyan guard.

"Oh-ok," She stuttered, sitting up. "Well, I'll get changed out of this mess, and then… well we'll figure something out."

Getting dressed, Payton looked around her home, never wanting to leave it. The folding table streaked with dirt, the cots stolen from the Homeless Shelter, the chest where they kept the little food they had, the candles grabbed from the church, and the old toy barn that acted as a safe for the gang's limited funds. It was all so perfect. She pulled on a pair of boy's overalls and tied her hair up into a tight bun. With a cap, old boots, and a little stuffing up her shirt, she was able to pose as another peasant boy. As she turned to address her companions, the carefully-hidden-from-the-street screen door burst open and Toss came in trailed by a proud teenage boy.

"I'm home!" cried Toss, throwing down a worn that should have had with tonight's dinner. "And gather round… I ran into a potential member." Their leader motioned for the young man forward as the Yellow Cuts huddled in. He had messy, yet surprisingly clean light brown hair and trickster leaf green eyes that darted about the room cautiously. The boy's face was streaked with dirt, his clothing was torn and that of a poor commoner, and his hands were callused from hard work. Payton liked him immediately.

Toss played with his shoulder-length black hair. "This is Sage everyone. He's a runaway from some farm up north, but I wager he'll be an asset to the team. Also, while we'll all here, I should let you know that dinner tonight is going to be… smaller than usual. But I think we'll manage." Payton nodded. It was a rare day when dinner was more than bread and beans.

"Come along," She said, nodding to the new boy. "Let's get your cot set up. And maybe we can get you a change of clothes. Those look… not great."

Sage smiled as he followed the high-pitched sounding boy who appeared to be second in command, no one had recognized him yet, and he'd found a place to stay. The boy led him to a sack full of second-hand clothes and broken shoes. Sage

rifled through them as he examined the strange boy. His dark hair was tucked deep into his cap, and a bit of a breast-like bump appeared below his neck.

"So.." the high-pitched boy began, sitting down on a bent chair. "Where you from up north?" He played with the boot laces, as if not used to them as Sage squinted down into the sack, searching for a pair of pants his size.

The disguised king glanced up. "Um, have you heard of Carchar?"

"In passing, probably," the boy shrugged. "But we don't really get much education on geography in this shack. My name is Payton, by the way."

Sage frowned. "Payton? Isn't that a girl's name?"

"Oh yeah," The boy let out a sharp, girly laugh. "Well, silly, I am a girl. Just disguised as a boy for right now. You see, I may have caused a little trouble in Kerwyn's home-"

"Lord Kerwyn?!"

"Yeah," Payton said, like it was no big deal, "So I had to change what I looked like so the knights looking for me wouldn't recognize me. It's a classic move that fools them every time." Sage briefly wondered, in the king part of his mind, how many times he had been fooled. Could the Yellow Cuts be right before him in court and he did not even know it? Could other criminal agencies have pulled the same trick? He sure believed the girl.

Sage realized with a start that he hadn't responded and would likely make the girl confused. "Um, yes, that's very impressive. You certainly fooled me." She smiled and nodded to a large, ragged curtain that hung from one of the ceiling rafters, indicating he could change behind it. Welcome home, Sage thought, welcome back to the world you know.