Corra walked along the roof of an old stone building, gazing down at the city streets. It was strangely quiet, the lack of noise being something the young thief was not used to. Where were the shrieking children, the merchants trying to sell their wares, the fanatics preaching in the streets? Arrvern had always been a city filled to the brim with colorful life. Now it was all but empty, as if the city was struggling to take its last breaths before it died completely. The normally bustling streets were silent. The few figures that walked along them went with a hurried, anxious pace, heads down and huddled against the cold breeze. The air was filled with a sense of hopelessness, fear, and dread. It was bleak in a way it never had been. 

With a sigh, Corra slid over the edge of the roof and began to climb down the side of the building. Her hands and feet easily found purchase in the cobbled siding, and she dropped gracefully to the ground. The soft padding of her feet as she walked down the street was the only sound to be heard. She was in a nicer district of the city, and anyone who lived in these buildings had left weeks ago. She was heading the wrong way if she wanted to get to the caravans, but she wasn’t ready to leave the city just yet, and she found her feet taking her into the poorer neighborhoods of Arrvern, an area she knew like the back of her hand. Here there were a few more people, mostly those too weak or too old to flee the city. They’d be left behind.

She looked around at the buildings lining the street, some of them had clearly been broken into. The careless damaged showed that the looting had already begun. The house to her right had a door hanging on only one hinge. The shutters were open and broken, with shards of cheap pottery scattered in the dust where items deemed worthless had been thrown. She stood for a moment, considering the building thoughtfully, when someone came through its door. Corra was about to turn away when she realized she knew the boy. He was just a few years older than her, of an average height with greasy blond hair and an eternally red complexion. He was also surprisingly fat for a thief, and a bit of a bastard in her opinion. He had a dirty potato sack thrown over his shoulder, filled with all manner of things, none of which were potatoes. 

[color=8882be]“Bann Erin,”[/color] she said in greeting looking at him with raised brows and a slight smirk from beneath her hood. [color=8882be]“While it’s not surprising in the slightest that you’re out here looting, you won’t be able to fence any of those baubles if you end up dead in the city streets. Thought someone like you’d be long gone already.”[/color]

At first he looked surprised at being caught coming out of the house, though it wasn’t as if anyone would report him to the guards now. When he recognized her he visibly relaxed, giving her a sneer. [color=598527]“Well if it isn’t the little raven,”[/color] he said, nodding to her. Corra grimaced, she’d never understand how she earned that nickname around the city in the first place. [color=598527]“Now’s the best time to get things quick and cheap. A scavenger like you should be making use of it.”[/color] He looked her up and down, noticing the pack strapped to her shoulders and the heavy cloak. [color=598527]“But it makes sense that a little coward like you’d be running out at the first chance.”[/color]

Corra stared at the boy, clearly unimpressed. She wondered why she had even stopped to acknowledge Erin in the first place. He was an idiot, even more so than most of the common thieves from Blackdirt Alley, where he spent most of his time. However, she realized with a tight feeling in her stomach, he was also quite possibly the last familiar face she’d see from this city. [i]Time to let go[/i], she thought. Turning on her heel, she continued down the street.

[color=8882be]“Have fun, Erin,”[/color] she said, not bothering to look back at the boy. She heard him scoff as he went on, presumably to the next abandoned house he could find. 

She shifted her pack, walking by houses she’d seen hundreds of times before, now empty and deserted. She should’ve been heading out herself, however she couldn’t help but walk through the streets one last time. Corra wasn’t usually one for sentimental attachment. She knew that people came and left in life sooner or later, but the city had seemed to her something outside of it all, something eternal that always was and always would be. Her mother had left, her friends had left, her gang had left, but the city had never left, and she had never left the city. She hadn’t even known she felt that way about the place, but she could feel it clearly now, passing by all of her old haunts. There was the tavern where she’d sung with the barkeep and stolen the dagger now strapped to her hip. There was the abandoned warehouse where she’d planned jobs with the other kids in her gang. She walked through the streets without any notion of how much time was passing, until she found herself standing outside of an old wooden building. It was nondescript, two stories with rickety stairs, just like countless others in the city. This was the building she had lived in as a child. There was the apartment she had shared with her mother. She hadn’t even glanced at the place in years, hadn’t lived there in eight years exactly. 

The place had been looted, that much was clear, but even if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t have looked anything like it had eight years ago were she to go inside. The furniture they’d had was probably sold, her mother’s sewing thrown away, the rag doll she had cherished as a child probably burned in the fireplace. She knew that and yet she almost wanted to go inside, walk up the creaking stairs, and let her fingers glide up the worn rail. Almost. But she didn’t. She turned and walked away, headed for the city gates. It was time to leave Arrvern behind. It had been hers, but it had been temporary, like all things. She’d move on, like she always did. She’d have memories, but maybe it would be better to forget... [i]That was a lie[/i], she thought, shaking her head lightly. She would never forget, and she wouldn’t want to. If nothing else, Corra’s memories were her own. 

She walked through the streets, taking shortcuts through alleys and climbing over walls when necessary. She sang softly to herself, the words and melody no more than a whisper. It was some silly song about a girl who sold flowers, something her mother had sung to her long ago. With every step she felt both lighter, and more anxious. She was leaving behind the only place she’d ever known, but she was committed to doing so, and somehow that made it easier. 

When she reached the caravans, the sudden noise and movement of refugees preparing to leave startled her out of her quiet contemplation. It seemed as if some had already gone, and she was glad she had not lingered any longer in the city streets. Being around so many people made her feel more awake and less doleful than she had felt all day. She spent a moment observing everyone, watching as they readied horses and hugged their kin. She walked over to a caravan that seemed to be comprised of a few worn-out sellswords and children with spears. Some of the others looked to be about her age, some much younger. One had shining armor, one bright red hair and a bow, another came in riding an expensive-looking horse. [i]An interesting bunch[/i], she thought to herself. Inspecting the kids around her let her take her mind off of her own feelings, something Corra was happy not to focus on. She waded into the group and leaned against the side of a wagon. After a moment she sighed, lowering her hood and roughly running her fingers through her short, waving hair. She wondered briefly where this new chapter in her life would take her. Hopefully it wouldn’t be to an early grave.