Winning In The End (Altamira)

Marmion sat quietly at the metal beach where he rested from his long day of walking. His life wasn’t the best by far, but he learned to deal with it. Haven’t lived on his own for so long he grown use to something. One of them was always to stay moving and only rest in a city for a short time. These where rules that kept him a live so far and they would never change. His hood covered his head, blocking the sun from his eyes as he slept in the beach.

He hadn’t no money nor a place to call home. Lonely, tired, and misunderstood he chose to stay to himself than to seek help. His staff, the only thing he had left from the past always stayed by his side. The wind blew gently pass him knocking around the trash that filled the park. The grass that covered the land wasn’t in the best condition in its lime green color.

Marmion dreamed like he normally did when he was able fall asleep alone about the night his parents die. Tears rolled down his face as he slept in the park walk arena of the park. The sounds of footsteps entered his ears but he didn’t pay it any mind thinking it was part of the dream. From the sounds of it, there were at least four of them and one of them was heavy.

“Hey, look at that,” the heavy one of the group said pointing to the young boy sleeping. “We could get some real money from the boss for that.”

“Yeah, you right,” other one said fixing his eye to the staff.

“He does seem to be sleep,” the young woman of the group replied glancing around him. “And no one around so if he gives us any trouble. Well you know.”

“We beat him anyway,” the last of the group members said walking over to the young mage. The others followed his lead, as he got closer to the boy. “Wake up!” he shouted punching the kid off the beach.

“Well take this,” the woman said picking up the staff off the ground. She clearly wasn’t one to get her hands dirt with blood as she watched the other move over to the boy.

Marmion opened his eyes wondering what just happened. Lifting his head up his hood fell off his head showing his oddly colored hair. Before he could see any of the people in his view, he felt a foot stomp into his chest. He coughed as all the air in his lungs lift his body. Curling over he felt another kick to his back and other to his gut.

“You should know better than having such a nice item in our city boy/girl,” the fat leader said not sure what gender the boy was anymore.

On the whole, Louis Fritz kept to himself. Minded his own business, you could say. He'd sit strumming his fiddle, maybe smoking a pipe, and leave the world to run its course. But there were certain things he couldn't abide--and people doing harm to women or children was one of them.

And so it was when he saw these four hooligans approaching this child; punching him, kicking him, wrenching his staff from his little hands, that the minstrel set aside his instrument, popped open its case, and brought his ol' halberd out to bear.

A young man had his foot upon the child's chest when he heard the high, shrill whistle, and the group as one turned to see the tall, strong figure of the bard walking up to them, weapon in hand. The blade was vibrating, ringing like their eardrums after that whistle; a sonic wave was emanating from the steel, and from that distance it shoved even the fat man onto the ground.

Before Louis was within two meters of the group of four, they bolted, leaving the child alone on the sand and breathing heavily.

The man strode up to the recumbent figure, extended a friendly hand, and said, "You all right, young one?"

Are you all right? the young boyish man thought feeling the pain from the kicks still hurting his body. He wasn’t use to getting hit by others and the pain wasn’t going away easily. He could feel it in his face and all over his mid body. The young mage’s eyes stared at the older man that came to help him. He wonder why would anyone put themselves endanger to help a strange.

He wonder, but than had to ask himself the same question. It was laughable that he was in need of help this time. The boy reached out to the man’s hand gripping it while holding his other hand against his chest. Getting up from the ground he glanced around him searching for his staff.

“Are you all right,” the man asked him again.

“Yeah,” Marmion answered having some trouble talking because of the pain. “Where is it?” He asked as he walked over to the bench he’d been knocked off of.

“Where what?” The man asked watching the boy search behind the bush that sat next to the bench.

“My staff,” He answered glancing back over at where he got up from. “I don’t see it.”

“They took it.”

“What!?” The boy shouted falling to one knee in pain. He wasn’t sure if it was really the pain from the attack that hurt him or the lost of his staff. Getting back on his feet again he begun walking, he didn’t know where he was heading, but it seem to feel right.

“Where you going?”

“To get my staff back,” the sad loneliness voice said as he passed by the man that just helped him. “Thanks by the way.”

Louis jogged to catch up with the boy, his instrument cases rattling around on his back.

"Now these fellows already mugged you once," he was saying once he had fallen in stride with the kid, "what makes you think you can handle them alone, without your staff?"

The boy maintained the kind of intense, embarrassed silence of someone who has just had their plan's fatal flaw pointed out to them and is trying to ignore it to see if it'll miraculously go away. Louis shot him a sympathetic smile.

"Don't worry, lad--see, that's where I come in. I've got nothing better to do, and I won't ask for payment in return. Just allow me to come along with ya and help out, to relieve my boredom. Deal?"

The young boy shifted is eyes away from the odd man. He didn’t think he needed much help, but could be useful. “Fine,” he mumbled under his breath and continue to grumbling about his staff.

“Great! We have a deal. Now than, do you know where you are going?”

Marmion glared up at the man getting angry with him pointing out his flawed ideas. “No,” the young boy said, slowly coming to a stop. “Why? Do you know where they went?”

“No.”

“Than why are you asking if I know where I’m going? I’m just taking a guess they went this way. If you have any better ideas please tell me.”