Don't talk to strangers.

A statement most parents would remind their children when they were in the presence of unfamiliar faces. In Astrum’s case, mom and dad were memories he hardly remembered. They left him an orphan in a society that exploited and abused children. A society that trafficked humans if it was to feed the wealthy and the powerful.

Now, in the care of kind people, he was at home. There was food and shelter, they even educated him in new mediums. What else could he ask for?

Caltha asked him once what he wanted to be when he grew up. He wanted to become like Sirius. Because he believed he contributed some good in society even if society couldn’t see what was behind their purpose of self-sustaining. Except that he didn't know what they actually did behind the shadows.

After finishing another book, Astrum yawned, his eyes droopy. The night sky had been dark for a while now. Someone took the liberty of tending the hearth and wall lamps without him noticing. His eyes darted the room.

A man was sitting by the couch near the shelves. A leg slung over the other. A book served to block his face while reading it.

Astrum didn't recognize the man. He was not a part of the household nor was he one of the lessee and helpers.

He moved to the side hoping to get a glimpse of the intruder's face. The man's hair was long and ashen. He did not appear old for his posture. He wore black, from his leather tailcoat to his expensive looking boots. Other than that, Astrum couldn't see his face.

"Uh, who are you?"

Where Astrum expected an answer, the man flipped a page. He couldn't remember anyone entering the room aside from Caltha, which happened a time ago, asking if he was hungry. Now, his hunger kicked in. Should he leave the stranger or feed his hunger first?

"He labeled me a mentor. But you can call me Saihme."

Astrum almost jumped at the man's voice. He feared that if he took his eyes off him, something scary might happen. Crolis often told him of the scary bits hiding under your bed.

His stomach growled tempting him to dash for the kitchen while glancing at the door wearily. Looking back to where the man was sitting, a chill ran down his spine. His eyes wandered the room, wide eyed and frantic.

No one was there. Nothing but drifting smoke created by the flames born of the hearth.

Astrum rubbed his eyes and blinked twice. Caltha had taken the man's place by the couch, sleeping. He didn't know if this was because of hunger or drowsiness, but he was one hungry cub. That's for sure.

He approached her cautiously, reaching a hesitant hand to touch her. "Ca-Caltha?"

Caltha opened her eyes to the sound of his voice. "Oh, you done? I didn't want to disturb you."

Astrum sighed. She was the real thing. Tears unknowingly filled his eyes. Not because he thought she turned into a man, but because he was hungry, tired, and he couldn't decide which one to do first.

Catha took him by the hand and led a drowsy Astrum into the kitchen. She fed him to his heart's content before tucking him in for the night.

It was a peaceful night. Amphibians croaked nearby. The moon's silver rays swept down for a brief moment, a passing a few often caught up to. Automobiles flared through the pavement in the cover of darkness.

The abandoned aqueducts of Rastite were once a sight, and a site, of terrible conflicts. It also served as a fountain of hope during its time of prosperity years ago, once supplying the city, matching the ocean's blue container. Now, as it succumbed to the environment, it became another artifact in the empire's history. Yet for the night, if it could serve another purpose, then it was decided as a rendezvous point.

Sirius and his companions met with Genon after the encounter with the mercenaries. Genon began taking count of the salvaged cargo while Castellone and Blaze awaited under the vaulted arches of the aqueducts.

Sitting inside the auto, Sirius noticed an approaching figure. Under the silver glance of the moon, he nodded to the man. "Dyie."

Dyie grew a tad older than when they first met eleven years ago. He was the man who hailed as the pillar that brought them together. In his fifties, he didn't look the age. Not yet. His eyes appeared kind, but there was a consequence brewing that warned people never to cross him.

Walking over to Dyie, Genon explained the casualties and identities of those caught in the crossfire. Sirius figured there wasn't anything important to say given how thorough Genon was.

Dyie listened. Then made a decision. "Llone, I want half of these stocks by the market district before dawn, you know how early those people rise. Blaze, take a third to the suburbs. Rius, you'll take the rest to the lesser slums."

"But wouldn't Rius be at risk going there alone?" Genon asked, his yellow eyes glistened under the night, almost like that of a cat.

"He knows his way. Don't worry." Dyie looked at each of them. "Good work today, boys."

Dyie adjusted his glasses before proceeding towards his eldest child, Sirius. They were all close in age. He preferred calling Sirius the eldest because he came into his care first before Blaze, Genon and Castellone, respectively.

Dyie looked at the auto, to the person sitting there. "Something on your mind?"

Sirius blew a breath while staring straight ahead. He smiled faintly, almost scoffing to hide a laugh. "Nothing hides from you, huh?"

"Not really. I've no idea where you've been hiding when you left this morning after I gave your assignment." Dyie said.

Sirius pulled the scarf to cover half of his face. How could he say that he'd been to Caltha's? The very place where Crolis lived. Crolis who saw Dyie with the same impression like everyone else in Rastite? A man sitting in his throne basking in wealth and glory. Someone who stole from the people who was better off being fed to the wilderbeasts.

Besides, he's only been at Caltha's because he didn't get enough sleep from the previous mission last night. Like how he often found his way there when he wanted to rest more. Or when he sought her company. He liked being with his companions during missions, but they were not Caltha. With her, he felt a connection, a comfort depraved of orphans. Or something else entirely.

"Hey," to change the subject, Sirius looked at Dyie. "Do you think what we did to them was right?"

Dyie blinked. Answering Sirius often weighed something. He had influence over his decisions ever since the day he took him in. He was an obedient boy. Rarely complained. He did have skills with that spearblade of his. Whoever taught him how to use it taught him well.

After all these years, something must have clashed against Sirius's morals. "If it were the other way around, knowing you'd soon face the consequences of your actions, someone who stole property and lives. What form of punishment do you think you deserve?"

Sirius knew that wasn't the end of what Dyie had to say.

Dyie continued. "You lie to your adversaries because you know they wouldn't let you go either way if you told the truth. They lie to you about having a family when, in fact, they don't have any mouths to feed. They mainly use these resources for gain because that's what drives them to live, to get what they want. They lie because they killed their friends to gather the spoils for themselves. They think they're right, but what really lies behind that? Would they have forgiven themselves in the end?"

Blaze and Genon couldn't help but hear. Castellone, ever the cauldron of the group, tightened his hold on a crate he was hauling. He couldn't help but speak his mind on the matter. "But what if they were right? What if the outskirts of the mainland were suffering and we took from them what little gain they could've had? Maybe then we could've helped them too."

Sirius then realized Castellone's reaction during that time. Was it guilt? If they looked away that time, would something better have come out of it? What of the murdered family?

In the end, there was no point lingering in what was already done. The argument started for the future to avoid such circumstances yet again.

He begged to believe he was not wrong, but he would not admit that. Not to anyone. They stood there now, knowing that arguing about the past wouldn't help. Avoiding such events for the future was the only thing they could do. But Sirius was still conflicted.

He was unfamiliar with the concepts of right and wrong. Yet something screamed that he should not give evil a chance. Because the lines drawn in blood drove him to continue. To not falter. To unveil the identity deprived of him ever since awakening into a night where the skies flared. Where the moonlight beamed red. And where canines failed to gnaw off the skin of his left arm.

Searching for himself was a priority. His former mentor reiterated that part when he sent him off from his care. For the past eleven years, all he found was how the world functioned. And it was disgusting.

People stole from each other. They prowled on each other like predators devouring the rules of nature. No one wanted to be at the bottom of the food chain, and they would do anything to survive. That was the goal of mankind, to survive, even if you were an unwanted child conceived of selfish reasons.

Why bring a child into the world when they cannot look after it? Nurture it? They were more like stockpiles intended for nature. They would perish in its embrace without a purpose. Perhaps that was why he was also lost. Was he not loved? Not wanted? He'd search the answers himself.

"I understand where you're standing, Llone. But we can only assume." Dyie said.

Castellone frowned. Silence had ended his statement. He decided to stifle the banter and resume piling his share for the final task of the night. He did not wait for the others to finish. He made his way past Blaze and rode on one of the traditional carriages, disguised as a merchant, before disappearing into the shadows.

Dyie placed both arms on his hips and exhaled before looking back at the three with an apologetic smile. "Must've flipped a switch on him."

"You know how he is. He'll be back when he's cooled off." Blaze said before taking his leave in the opposite direction.

Genon closed his notes. He tied his long flaxen hair to a ponytail. "That's everything. Your turn, Rius."