It is not all in my mind. Astarelle is teaching the children to beat up Zack Blaze. Why is the world so incredibly complicated? How do those two even know each other? Does Astarelle have any idea that were Zack to meet a young child alone in an alley his first instinct would be to help, not hurt?
I am not ignorant. I know that Zack is not a good person. I also know that there are varying shades of bad.
At first there are sounds of shouting and all I can see is a wall of torn clothing and tanned skin. The boys are quite literally running over one another for a shot at the dummy. It goes on like this for a long moment.
Then, I hear the ripping of fine leather. It is a sleeve. The boy who has pulled it loose is the pudgy one. He holds it above his head in victory and lets out a war cry. I find myself torn between the comedy and my own feelings about the true Blaze.
The zipper of the jacket soon gives and from there it takes no time at all for handfuls of straw to fly in all directions. Several of the children take a few steps back and give each other a look that can only mean something terrible. All at once they take a running leap. They barely clear the smaller boys as they smack into the dummy with all the might four skinny street kids can muster. A sickening crack fills our tiny slice of paradise. Even the carriage driver turns his attention to the chaos. The dummy gives. The mop head rolls a few feet away, separated from the now cloth-thin body which lays at the feet of the ferals.
I take a deep breath. It is over.
I glance at Astarelle and note the look of joy in her eyes. Manipulating children into doing her bidding with the promise of food and protection? The whole situation seems all too familiar. Can she truly believe herself any better than Blaze?
I am pulled back to reality at the sound of a shout. The pudgy one has lifted the mop head above his head. He is parading about and receiving pats on the back from his comrades.
"Enough!" The word leaves my lips without permission. I may as well finish now though. I breathe and lower my tone. "Astarelle, may I speak with you?"
She gives a look of pride to the boys that reminds me of a mother whose child has just begun taking their first steps. I suppose to her this is quite the same. Their first steps toward bettering the world through violence and savagery. I turn my back and take several steps toward the wagon. I close my eyes and listen to the silence that has overtaken the field. Only the sound of the leaves rustling remains.
Astarelle dismisses the children to play with a loving voice before making her way to me. I can hear her approach. I consider my words carefully.
I look into her metallic eyes. "I appreciate everything you've done for me Astarelle. Thank you, truly. I think it's time for me to figure things out on my own though."
The Ixian gives me a doting look, "Oh, little bee. Stop worrying about the money-"
I cut her off with a sigh.
"This isn't about the money anymore. Or, I suppose it is." I have spent my entire life buried in words, and yet I have none when I need them most. "I've lived on the streets for a couple years now. I've watched others like me come and go. Many have joined the ranks of Misery Business, more still have joined your precious knights. Why is it that the only way to escape poverty in Radasanth is to choose one or the other?"
My tone changes all at once. There is far more venom in the words than I intend. "Does it make a difference, really? These kids can fight for him or fight for you. Either way they lose themselves to the wants of the person with the largest coin purse! I for one would rather scrape by for each meal than become part of this broken system! Perhaps you should ask your beloved ferals what they would chose."