For future reference, anything in italics is a flashback.
"I could kill you…" The Thief Lord paused, slowly running the point of the sword down the length of the girl's body. He did not like being made a fool of, nor did he like being stolen from. The girl before him was guilty of both crimes.
She appeared to be rather fragile, as if the slightest blow might make her shatter into pieces, in much the same way as a porcelain figure. It seemed almost cruel to treat her this way, but Scipio had a knack for seeing beneath the complicated network of layers that combine to make up a human being. He saw underneath the girl's soft, friable outer shell, saw the tough interior within. It took guts to delve into someone's pockets and attempt to extract any valuables lurking in them, as she had done so readily earlier that day. It was so easy to brush against your unwitting victim, so easy to alert them to your presence. You had to be swift yet careful, or risk being caught in the act. That took talent, and boy, did this girl have it.
"But it would only lead to awkward questions. Besides, it would be a shame to lose such a good pickpocket." Scipio withdrew the weapon and smiled warmly, an expression which was not returned. Instead, the girl just stared up at him, her brown eyes wide and fearful. They looked at Scipio with a mixture of apprehension and mistrust. She looked terrified, and her breathing was heavy and deliberate, as if it took a tremendous amount of effort to do such as simple task as inhaling and exhaling. Scipio sighed. He'd always been so good at reading people, but maybe, just this once, he'd gotten it wrong. Perhaps this girl really was as weak and as feeble as she appeared to be. It was unusual for something like this to happen, but not unheard of.
"Oh, come on now," Scipio said, exasperated. "I wasn't really going to- " He was interrupted when the girl suddenly collapsed onto the cobbled pavement without warning. Two passer bys eyed him accusingly but hurried along, unwillingly to get involved.
"I didn't even touch you!" Scipio cried out incredulously, scanning the area around him. Then, he knelt down to inspect the now unconscious body lying on the floor in front of him, and placing two fingers on the girl's neck, he felt for a pulse. It was there, but incredibly weak. Weird. Scipio gently tilted the girl's face so it was facing him. She looked eerily pale, like a ghost of the forgotten dead. She might have been pretty, but any beauty she had one had had now all but vanished. You could just about make out her cheekbones, so gaunt and sickly was she. Scipio carefully prised her eyelids open, he saw big brown eyes that he had only ever seen on a startled deer, just before his austere father had so cruelly shot it, snatching away precious life from the timid, beautiful creature. The six year old Scipio had cried his eyes out that day, both for the deer's sudden death, and his own mother's untimely demise. This only enraged his father further, and he shouted at Scipio to grow up and behave like a man. Just like the poor deer, the spark had dissipated from this girl's eyes, and it saddened Scipio to look. This girl had seen things she should not have seen, she had experienced things which no girl her age should ever go through, and she had been aged prematurely by hardship and adversity.
Scipio stepped backwards in shock as he realised a thick dark red liquid was seeping out from underneath the girl's body. It spread out onto the ground like a spilt glass of wine, staining the cobblestones crimson. Scipio cautiously rolled the girl's frail body.
"What the-" He cursed out loud as he delicately unpeeled the girl's clothing back to reveal a deep wound in her lower stomach, from which blood flowed freely. Of course! He had been so stupid. Scipio cursed again. He didn't know how long it had been since the girl had first obtained this dreadful injury. Hours? Days? Had it even been there during their first encounter? How could he not have noticed before? Who had done this to her? The questions raced in his mind, like a swarm of locusts.
The Thief Lord frowned. Today was going to be a long day.
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