But none of that was to last. As the family grew, we ate more and took up more space. Money became scarce, and every day was a discussion on what else could be skimped on, so all of us might survive. The youngest children of an akor’mar are sometimes given to the Twins because of this, as my mother well knew, when she looked at Neddryn’s face and then mine for the first time, and Vornyrr and my father made bets on who was to survive. Necessity made commonplace a lot of practices other peoples would consider barbaric.

Yet my parents had kept Neddryn, and they had kept me, scrawny and sickly as we both were. It wasn’t spitting in the face of society, not intentionally: not meant to make a statement. There was just no question about it. Kin stuck together, out of a family tradition I still do not know the origin of.

Luckily for our echoing bellies, times were changing in the city. A season of Blood-Seeks was upon us, and my brothers and I were of age to join in.

I can see by the fear in your eyes you know of the akor’mar Blood-Seeks. But do you know their full purpose? I think perhaps not. They go back millennia, as much a part of my culture as the fall harvest is to you.

The Tymalt’aste – the equivalent of a king in your tongue, though it is more of a religious title -- had ruled a military order of warriors and magi for as long as any akor’mar can remember. These soldiers were titled Seekers, named after the Blood-Seeks, and the important part of their role and ritual was not the raids on Surfacer lands that you well know, but the ceremonies that happened in Vuzsdin upon their return. Blood-Seeks are a time of coupling among the akor’mari. The Seekers would reshuffle their ranks based on their performance in the Blood-Seek, with those of highest honors being allowed to court and wed the mightiest of the priestesses of Althrasia: at least, until the next Blood-Seek occurs.

The strongest of the Seekers was the Tymalt’aste. It was he who would take on Tymalt’s mantle, his identity swallowed whole by our god of war, and he would act on Tymalt’s behalf from that day on. His previous name and title would be forgotten, and he would not be known by any other until his inevitable fall to next victor; after which he’d simply be known as a Nameless, countless among other fallen. A new Tymalt’aste would rise in the next Blood-Seek, and so it would go.
Our Tymalt’aste at the time had kept his position for many years, and some believed him invincible. Perhaps by the hubris of his long rule, he sought to change the way our city was run. Usually the families of the Great Den were passed over for recruitment for the Blood-Seeks, but after a patrol of drunken Seekers were slain in our district by thugs, Tymalt’aste saw the wisdom of taking new trainees from our people, too, and not just the nobles.

Everyone was excited when those recruiters came around, for the rule then was they let in absolutely anyone, so long as you were an akor’mar. You weren’t paid very much, and you had to pay lip service to the Twins regardless of your real beliefs, but you were fed, and even patrolling Bataklik on the Surface was safer than living in the slums. And, of course, the lucky few might rise to become nobility in their own right, although there was much heretical talk of waiving that privilege for my kind.

Vornyrr, Drenix, and Solae left to join the Seekers that first year. I didn’t. I was too young. Those next few cycles were very quiet, and even more dangerous than before. Now, you no longer had a stronger brother to watch your back if you bit off more than you could chew. The high priests knew this too and came down on the thieves they caught harder than ever before. There were many horror stories about what happened to those people, and death was only the least bloodcurdling of them.

I didn’t get caught because I was careful. I became quite good at stealing, though I never had a reputation like some of the greater thief lords. They were stupid, and let people know about their exploits. They got caught, then. I never told anyone when I stole, so I never was caught.
Eventually I grew old enough to join the Seekers, too, and I jumped on the opportunity when the recruiters came around that year. It would be some time before I was formally deployed, but being one of the Seekers gave you a certain amount of respect in that district. Suddenly I could roam around in the middle of wake-time, before the very ears of the high priests, and never be in any danger. Oh, I’m sure I did this a lot, especially upfront of those who hated me most. Tymalt’aste’s Seekers were a step above common priests and beloved of our god Tymalt--even ones like me who hadn’t been to basic training yet. Not even an Althrasian high priestess dared touch a hair on my nape in those days.

I can’t say I was sorry to leave that life in the end. Some say the life of a criminal is freedom, but to me, it was more often shackled by fear and hunger. The last day I slept at home I had a big row with my younger brother, Neddryn. About what, memory has since blocked out, but I do remember being glad to be rid of him once and for all. I wonder if I would have thought differently, knowing I would not see him again for centuries, and only then at opposite ends of a sword.

I suppose I’ll never know.