All in a Day's Work

Gwendolen Mair

Jonas could not, for all his trying, wrap his mind around how Edward did his magic. Much explanation had been given, numerous times, in fact, and yet each explanation led only to more confusion. Jonas sighed and gave up trying to grasp the concept, tossing a few silver coins to a blind beggar who sat lamely on the dusty ground.

The day was hot and dry, the city was bustling with activity and the two boys were running errands for various people – Jonas for his mother, and Edward for the Aviator, a man in charge of a new religious sect. Edward stopped walking and snapped his fingers, causing one of the silver coins that Jonas had dropped into the beggar's hat to appear between his thumb and forefinger.

“How did you...?” he began to ask, but stopped himself. Why did he even ask? No matter how many times it happened he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. Edward was a magician – a sorcerer, and all the explanation in the world could not answer his inquiries because he simply could not understand it. Nobody without that particular gift would be able to. Jonas never had been one to learn from his mistakes, however, so he asked yet again.

“It is simple a matter,” Edward smirked, “of switching the positions of the mass.”

“Yeah, it's a simple matter,” Jonas took the coin from his friend's hand and threw it back to the beggar. “Just like moving the sun from the sky to the ground is a simple matter.”

“It could probably be done,” the magician considered.

“You astound me, you really do,” he said and they continued walking through the market.

“Because I'm so talented,” he said.

“Because you're so arrogant,” Jonas retorted.

They entered the town. It was small with not a lot to offer; it was, for most people, simply a place to get items that could not be made on their farms. Few people lived within the city limits and industry was nonexistent. The town only survived by traders and merchants from far off larger cities. The entire country had been depressed lately anyway. Everybody knew they were on the cusp of something great; an industrial revolution of sorts, but at the moment the pickings were slim.

They continued on through the rows of shops. The little stands that lined the street were filled with delicious fruits and vegetables, with lovely fabrics and novelty toys. Children pestered their parents to buy them a gift, and women gathered together to chat and gossip. Pieces of conversation flitted toward their ears; idle talk of weather and herds and rumors about a recent robbery from the Great Museum, which was the talk of the town today. Apparently, some artifact had been stolen and was still missing. Edward, seemingly without making the slightest movement, stole a red and juicy looking fruit from one of the stands, biting into the oblong fruit as soon as they passed.

“Good morning, Edward!” one of the chattering ladies called, waving. “And Jonas, how handsome you're becoming! You have your father's blue eyes!”

Jonas blushed, and Edward smiled charmingly, waving the hand not containing the pilfered produce. It seemed like every woman in the town was trying to marry him to their daughter. He was handsome, he knew, with his sandy blonde hair and deep brown eyes. It was always entertaining to watch them brag about their girls to him. What they didn't know was that he didn't need to marry most of them—he'd already had his fun with them.

Edward took a bite out of the fruit.

“Don't do that. You shouldn't steal. Somebody has to pay for that, you know,” Jonas protested.

The thief held the fruit out, offering it to his younger friend. “Do you think they'll want it back now? Do you want it?” he grinned. Jonas eyed the giant bite mark and sighed, walking on.

“So what do you do for this Aviator guy? I don't really understand. Besides, you're only sixteen... should you be working for a guy like this? He seems shady,” the younger boy questioned worriedly, stopping to pick up some grain for his mother.

“The Aviator is in charge of the Olareon Order, you know, the disciples. He's their leader. I just run errands for him; it's no big deal.”

“Is he a prophet?” he questioned.

Edward tossed the same silver coin Jonas had thrown the beggar into the air, catching it and flipping it onto his wrist. “Heads,” he laughed.

“You jerk, that was the for the beggar, not for you!” he made a grab for it, dropping his grain in the process. Jonas was three years younger and quite a bit shorter than the older boy, making him hardly a challenge to his senior. “Why do you tease me so much?” he asked, picking up the brown cloth sack and catching up at a slight run.

“Because it's so easy, and you hardly ever fight back,” he replied.

“At least you're honest,” Jonas sighed. “So this guy...”

“He's a fake,” he admitted, returning to the previous subject and shrugging. “He's no more of a prophet than I am. He can do some magic and he tricks people into believing he's a miracle worker with them. It's a gross misuse of the Craft, but he pays well, so I'm not complaining.”

“You're no better than him, you just want money,” he complained, though on his lips played a small grin. Edward did not disperse the notion. “So what kind of errands do you do for him?”

“Picking up special deliveries, escorting guests, sometimes guarding,” he answered. “It's stupid, but like I said, it pays well.”

“And today you're doing... what?” he asked as they wandered into a deserted part of the town. The bustling marketplace was in the distance and now they stood between rows of abandoned buildings. Boards covered windows on some of the structures; others had broken windows, or missing windows, and some lacked even doors.

“Making a pickup. Today is monumental,” he said dramatically.

“Why's that?” the younger boy questioned, looking nervous. “And when can we leave?”

“Soon,” he assured, noting his friend's anxiety. He had noticed a small hand gripping his shirt sleeve, but decided not to poke fun at him for once. He knew he was rough on the kid sometimes, and Jonas always took it in good humor, but even he knew when enough was enough. He had been the one to rescue the boy from such harassment, so it hardly seemed right for him to constantly perpetrate the same deed. That seemed somehow worse, because of the trust involved in their odd relationship. He was like a little brother now, and just as a boy naturally teases his younger brother, he also had a fierce desire to protect him. Jonas was, after all, all his mother had left. “Today is monumental because I finally get to meet the Aviator! He will see my greatness and skill at last!” he posed in a jester-like fashion to relieve the tension and make his friend laugh. “He should feel very privileged.”

Jonas laughed and followed as he began to walk again. “Wait,” he ran up beside him. “You've never met this guy?”

“Of course not, I'm just an errand boy.”

“You made it sound like it was some great job,” he snickered. “You don't know the guy who's paying you? Has he even paid you yet? You've been working for him for a month.”

“Not technically speaking... I've been treated to some minor luxuries, but I haven't actually been paid...”

The younger boy laughed again and elbowed his larger friend. The teased had become the teaser.

“This is it,” the older boy held his arm out to keep the younger from stumbling forward with the large bag of grain as they stopped suddenly. “Wait here, I'll just be a minute.”

“Wait here? Alone? This isn't the best neighborhood. Maybe I should come in with you...” he nervously began to trail after Edward.

“No,” he said, all joking removed from his voice. “You're right. This is a shady job and I don't want you getting mixed up in it. Wait here and don't speak to anybody.”

Jonas nodded and sat down on an overturned trough as Edward went inside, humming an old folk tune his father had taught him before he died. He held the sack of grain closely to his body. His mother would be relieved to see it survive his trip. It seemed like every time he went with Edward to buy food, something happened to it. He smiled and closed his eyes recalling their adventures, when suddenly he was snapped from his reverie by somebody grabbing the sack from his hands and running.

“Hey!” he ran after the perpetrator, leaping upon the slightly larger form. “That's for my mom!”

“Brave sucker, are you?” a waspish voice hissed, elbowing his gut, causing him to hit the ground with a thud. The thief began to run, but Jonas grabbed wildly. Falling, the person cursed. The grain bag went tumbling, losing some of its contents. Jonas climbed onto the would be thief, but got tangled in the long, hooded cloak that was adorned. The two struggled briefly, and then Edward returned.

“What's going on here?” he asked.

“It's a thief!” Jonas cried, trying to keep hold of the wiggling perpetrator. “He tried to steal my grain!”

The thief's silvery eyes darted to the ornate, bejeweled box in Edward's hands. With one great heave, Jonas went flying and the thief grabbed the box and ran off into the city.

“Hey, stop, you bastard!” Edward ran after him.

“Wait up!” Jonas grabbed his sack of grain and followed, huffing along a few feet behind.

“Did you get a good look at his face?” the blonde haired boy called back.

“No, he had the hood up,” he replied weakly, short of breath.

“Great,” Edward stopped running when he reached the bustling market once again. Hundreds of people moved about, many of them wearing cloaks with hoods. “This makes things so much easier.”

“Was it that important?” Jonas wheezed, dropping his grain and bending over his knees to catch his breath.

“This was my big chance to prove myself,” he kicked a trash heap, sending garbage flying across the street.

“Hey, you!” somebody yelled. Edward looked up just in time to see another hooded stranger firing some sort of magic blast at him. He shoved Jonas out of the line of fire and jumped to a rooftop. Jonas wailed as his grain bag went flying into the air.

“My mother is going to kill me... every time I'm with you I lose our grain for the week!” he frantically scooped the grain back into the bag and darted away. The hooded stranger followed Edward to the rooftop.

“Give me the box,” a deep, deathly calm voice commanded.

“I don't have it, it was stolen,” he lowered his hands, sure that it would be obvious he didn't have it and that this gentlemen would simply leave, satisfied by that explanation.

Apparently, Edward thought incorrectly. The stranger fired another shot – a round, glowing orb of magic or energy of some sort. Edward dodged just in time. The roof of the building exploded into splinters. Another cloaked figure appeared, rushing at them. The older boy grabbed his friend, who grabbed his grain, and ran off into the crowd. Surely this stranger wouldn't fire into the masses...

“Why do I have to be so wrong today?” the errand boy sighed as their hunter followed them, firing into the crowd. Edward let go of Jonas, who stumbled briefly before gaining his balance and following closely behind. They turned into an alley, barely missing becoming a rather large stain on the ground. “Shit! That was too close!” he yelled, diving over a compost heap and running faster.

Jonas followed closely behind, panting, but not complaining about the speed. He preferred to remain in one piece. “You shouldn't swear,” he chided to take his mind off of their attackers in hot pursuit.

“What are you, my fucking conscience?! We're being hunted like animals because these morons, who apparently were planning to steal the box from us, think we have something that somebody else stole from us! Cut me some slack, I'll swear if I God damn well please!”

The elder spotted a large pile of lumber and garbage and dragged his young friend into it. “Damn, that's sharp,” he complained, shifting the wood around a bit. Jonas crouched beside him, clutching the half-empty bag tightly against his chest, determined not to lose any more of the contents.

“Did we lose them?” he asked.

“I think so,” the older boy poked his head out slowly. “Yeah, we're safe, come on, let's get out of here. I'll just have to tell the Aviator that it was stolen. He'll send out some goons to look for it, and I suppose I will be forced to resign... probably without pay.” The grimace on his face was sufficient in explaining his thoughts on the notion of working for a month without pay.

“Mother said you could work for us. She can't pay much, but she'll take you.”

“I can't work for your mother,” he said, looking around the corner cautiously.

“Why not?” he questioned, looking up.

“I'd feel too bad swindling her,” the older replied honestly. “Oh man, here they come again!” Edward took off running. Jonas followed a split second later. “Make a break for it, Jo, they're after me.”

“I'm not going to run away!” he said, determination in his somewhat high voice. His eyes were narrowed; he would stand by his friend.

“Get out of here,” he shoved him into the crowd. “There's no need for you to get blasted. Get your grain home.”

Edward rolled up his sleeve, confident that Jonas would get home safely. He was, however, shocked when the cloaked man, accompanied by the other in similar garb, passed him by and continued into the crowd. Surely they had seen him, he thought. He cursed when he realized who it was they were following. “Jonas...” he groaned. “I'm such a genius,” his voice dripped sarcasm.

Jonas looked warily behind him. The cloaked men were staring at him. He glanced at his sack of grain, knowing they believed their treasure was inside, and tried to think of what to do. They were going to attack first and ask questions later, but he couldn't let them take his precious grain. As it stood he had only enough to feed the animals on the farm; he and his mother would have to make do on what they could find until they could make some more money. He had just decided to make a break for it when he spotted a familiar cloak – the person who had robbed Edward.

“Hey, stop!” he cried. The thief glanced back and then broke into a dead run. Jonas pursued at full speed.

From behind, Edward saw Jonas break into an all out run, and watched in horror as the agitated pursuers raised their hands to neutralize the situation. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a broken bottle on the ground and held it up. The glass suddenly appeared above the hooded men and shattered over their heads. Temporarily stunned, he raced past them and to Jonas.

“You are so busted,” the blue eyed boy glared at him.

“So why are you running? You knew they'd try to stop you, stupid.”

Jonas nodded his brunette head at the quickly-shuffling figure just ahead and suddenly Edward understood. He had been trying to follow the thief. “Do you realize how close you came to becoming a smoking pile of ash?”

“I figured you'd step in. You always do,” he shrugged in an attempt to look nonchalant. “Take this, you owe me,” he slammed the grain into Edward's hands.

“Owe you, my ass,” he grunted, returning it. “I knocked those guys out.”

“It's heavy,” he whined.

“Good, you'll get stronger,” he laughed. “Hey, he's turning!”

The two remained close behind and turned the corner, only to see a dead end, and the thief was nowhere to be seen.

“How did we lose him?!” Jonas cried.

“Don't worry about it,” he waved his hands. “Let's just go to the temple and explain about the thief.”

“But you need the money for...” he protested.

“Don't worry about her,” he snapped. “Don't worry about me, just worry about yourself. Those guys should be out of the way, so we'll just get to the temple and they'll handle the rest.”

Dejected, Jonas nodded. He stared at the ground as they walked along the city's crowded streets toward the Aviator's temple. The younger boy looked upward at his friend's face. He looked disappointed, but determined. He would find a way.

“Are you sure Alexcia can wait another week?” he questioned.

“She'll be okay. She's lasted this long, right? She's been sick a lot since mom and dad died, and she never had medicine before. I'm sure she'll be all right,” he gave his friend a bright, reassuring smile. Jonas offered a small smile in return.

“If you need next week's produce money, mother will give it to you. We can make it on scraps and charity for a while,” he offered.

“I'm not going to let you and your mother starve,” he said pointedly. “My sister isn't going to die in the next seven days. I can get a job today and get paid by then for sure. Don't worry, Jo, you have enough to worry about. Maybe I really should get married,” he laughed. “Then I could suck my in-laws dry!”

Jonas smiled. Edward was ever optimistic. Both of them knew that Edward's big sister was very sick, and that she needed medicine, but Edward wasn't about to take money from people who needed it just as badly. He was, at least, considerate, if not very moral.

“Well, I'll help you find a job. I'll work too. We'll get twice as much.”

Edward rubbed his friend's head, chuckling. “Yeah, they'll hire both of us thanks to me and then they'll see your scrawny ass, realize they were duped, and fire the both of us.”

Jonas stuck his tongue out and they walked on. They were nearly at the temple when another volley of magic orbs rained down on them.

“Not again!” the sandy haired young man dove behind a brick wall, Jonas not far behind. “I can't believe these bastards! We don't have it!” he yelled at their attackers. “Whatever IT is...”

Suddenly something clicked in his head. The gossiping women had been talking about a robbery that had taken place. Perhaps this was the thing that had been taken from the Great Museum the previous week? If that was so, it would mean that the Aviator had stolen it, or at least had it stolen. It also meant that it was of great value.

“Who are you people?” he poked his head above the brick wall.

“We're curators from the museum,” they replied. “Give us the box.”

A few more shots were fired in the vicinity.

“Curators?” Edward muttered. “These muscle-bound idiots?”

“We don't have it! It was stolen from us!” Jonas yelled. Suddenly something was on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He gasped. “It's him! It's the thief!”

“Help,” the thief groaned.

“Help you? Help you?!” Edward yelled incredulously, covering his head as pieces of brick fell around them. “This is all your fault!”

“Help, I'm hurt,” the person whispered, looking up. The hood fell back, revealing the delicate features of a lovely young woman. One silvery eye peered upward. Jonas looked at Edward helplessly.

“Damn it all, my one weakness,” he cursed. “Why did it have to be a girl?” Kneeling above her body, he inspected her body, not without some appreciation. He wondered if she was married—not that it had stopped him before. “Concentrate,” he said to himself. “There's blood, but where is it coming from? I don't see a wound!”

Jonas looked around the wall. The firing had stopped, and now they were coming toward them. He elbowed Edward urgently.

“Not now, I'm trying to heal her,” he snapped.

“They're coming!” he managed. “They'll kill us.”

“Think, Edward,” he muttered to himself, trying to analyze the situation. “Think...”

“I have an idea...” Jonas said suddenly. He opened the box, figuring it was more than just a pretty box. Inside was nothing more than a chip of wood. “What is this?”

“I don't know, but it's obviously important.”

“I'll trade them,” he said, filling the box with grain and leaving the piece of wood – whatever it was, inside the bag of grain. “We surrender!” he cried, holding up the box. “Take it, just don't hurt us!”

The curators—though they seemed more like mercenaries or battle masters—nodded in satisfaction and removed the box from their possession.

Edward, who had discovered the wound, which was a fairly small shrapnel splinter in her thigh, was trying not to grin as he removed the young woman's pants. Jonas lifted an eyebrow. “You know, all you need to do is pull out the shrapnel and cover the wound.”

Just as Edward untied her belt, the young woman awoke. “You pervert!” she slapped him. “Unhand me!”

Jonas laughed as Edward cradled his reddened cheek.

“The box! Where is it?!” she looked around.

“Do you know what that was?” the younger boy asked.

“It had so many jewels on it... it looked expensive. I didn't mean to cause trouble, I just needed money.”

“Don't we all?” Edward asked.

“My father is injured, he can't work. I am only trying to feed my family,” she began to cry.

“Don't... don't cry,” he said awkwardly. “It'll be all right.” Edward hugged the sobbing girl, but was shocked half to death by Jonas' random cry of triumph. “Don't do that!”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “But I think I know what this is,” he looked at the little plank of wood. “Remember the gossipers in the street earlier? They were talking about an ancient artifact that was recently recovered. I remember hearing about it from the man who buys our eggs. In a recent dig they believe they found a piece of a supposedly holy altar from the early period.”

“Really?” he blinked.

“The Aviator guy you're working for probably wants to try to use it as proof that he's a real prophet or something. You can divine from objects, right? If this guy has any skills you like yours, he could probably make all sorts of predictions about the altar that haven't been released to the public yet and get people to give money...”

“My God,” Edward stared. “You're starting to think like me.”

Jonas shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “If I wanted to get money from a lot of people, that's probably what I would do.”

“You're really starting to think like me. I think I'm a bad influence on you,” he laughed and then began to mock cry. “I've never been prouder!”

The young woman stared between them. “What?”

“Never mind. I think we have somebody to speak with,” the older boy stood up, offering his hand to the thief woman. Jonas picked up his nearly empty bag of grain and the three continued on to the temple of the Aviator. The walk was quite a bit less stressful without those crazed curators on their heels. Of course, as soon as they realized what Jonas had done, they would be back, but they didn't seem to be the brightest of men; it would most likely be a while.

Edward pushed open the heavy door of the temple. Inside was extravagant and somewhat overdone; tall windows, pointed arches. “Do you have the item?” a man asked.

“I need to speak with the Aviator,” Edward demanded.

“He is busy, you cannot... don't go in!” the guards tried to stop them, but Edward blasted his way inside. The Aviator's chamber was even more ornate than the entrance. A short, squat man with a bald head wearing a vest and rather poufy pants rested on a large pile of cushions in the center of the room.

“Who are you?” he asked defensively.

“I'm your errand boy,” he crossed his arms. “These are my associates. We seem to have run into some trouble because of a certain item that you apparently arranged to have stolen.”

“Trouble...?” he asked nervously. “What kind of trouble?”

“Oh, just a small annoyance, however, I think that now I must levy a bit of an extra fee for my services,” he smirked.

“Did you get the item?” he asked urgently.

“Oh, I acquired the item,” he held up the little plank of wood. “I know what this is. I know why you want it.”

“You... you know?” he seemed to cower, looking more pathetic, his belly rolls quivering in fear.

“We know,” Jonas nodded.

“I swear, I didn't know they would charge so much for their services...” he said. “They didn't say there was interest... they said if I got it they wouldn't hurt me!”

“What?” he blinked, confused.

“The loaners. I borrowed money from them to pay the disciples to tell of my miracles. I tried to pay them in gold, but they only wanted the piece of the altar. Apparently, with the altar is buried a treasure map... find the altar, find the map. They said that it would do. I didn't want to steal it... I'm not a criminal, I just like the attention.”

Edward blinked. Well, that had been an unexpected twist.

“Well, you can have this,” he held it out generously. The Aviator reached for it, but Edward snatched it away. “But we will need something in return.”

“What? What do you want?” he moaned.

“Just a little monetary contribution to MY cause. You see, I have some bills to pay, and would like some money.”

“Whatever, whatever you want, take it!” he cried. “The loaners are out of patience.”

“Fine, whatever, take it!” he said. “Anything in my vault, it's yours!”

The three looked at each other, tossed him the artifact and headed toward the vault. This had been a most interesting day for all of them. They didn't bother pondering the Aviator's apparently dire situation. Reaching the vault, the three nearly drooled in anticipation of feasts and warm clothes and bedding and all the luxuries they could want. They took as much as they could carry and departed. The sun was setting by the time the ordeal was over. The young woman nodded at them as she headed her own way.

“Too bad she's leaving,” Jonas said.

“Yeah,” Edward agreed. “She's was pretty.”

“I was going to say she seemed interesting.”

“I have a feeling we'll meet again, anyway,” he smirked.

Jonas nodded, tripping as his grain sack hit a rock, pulling him backward. Several gems and jewels, along with at least ten handfuls of gold coins fell out of the bag.

“All right?” Edward asked, helping him up.

“Thanks,” he laughed, picking up the spilled contents. “It was just a little heavy.”

“So, do you think your mother will be angry that you lost all the grain?” Edward asked, walking on down the street, his body clinking with each step. His pockets and cloak were as stuffed with treasures as Jonas' grain sack.

Jonas began to laugh and couldn't stop. “I somehow don't think she'll be too mad,” he gasped for breath, laughter slowly dying down.

“I suppose not, once she sees this,” he kicked the bag full of fine jewels, gold coins, and beautiful fabrics, chuckling.

“Interesting day, huh?” the younger asked.

“Nah,” he remarked, as they walked side by side, leaving left the city and returning to their humble farm in the country, the setting sun behind them. Edward smirked widely. “It was all in a day's work.”