As Selriph walked away from his close brush with the Inquisitors, he swore he could still feel their gaze still lingering on him. He did not look back, or rather, he did not want to. He felt the sensation of their eyes boring into his back, but he rationally knew they had left; The lack of footsteps confirmed it all.

  Way too close… but it won’t take long for their encounter to reach all the wrong ears. I have to make myself disappear into these tunnels, and ideally, make it out of the city as soon as possible.

  As his mind raced with considerations around his new escape route—how to get out of the city from down here—with the templars in a flurry above. Selriph considered his options; His legs subconsciously brought him around a few bends and corners. He found a wide tunnel opening into a larger chamber, light filtering through an overhead grate. Moss hung from the walls, dripping water echoed through the chamber, and each droplet came down at a steady tempo. The scent of mould in his nostrils came with the damp air.

  At this moment, Selriph finally turned around. He knew he was not being followed, but he just had to make sure.

  No one, the only sight before him, was the dark gloom of the tunnels he had just trekked through.

  Relieved, his mind drifted to a more immediate concern:

  Where had the beggar gone?

  He somehow slipped off while the three knights were haggling with him. Selriph, perhaps even the knights, failed to notice the movement; He had slipped away.

  Selriph closed his eyes, steadying his breath. He had used this technique to guard against unwanted eyes inadvertently witnessing his private sessions playing with the arcane. Now it would serve a different purpose: to locate the unusually astute beggar.

  His senses beyond the physical—reached out; He could feel the faint energies of the vermin that scuttled through the tunnels, the life energy of the few people above. And there, beyond the current chamber. He could feel it—the faint presence of a man. Perhaps it belonged to the person who had excused themselves inconspicuously mere moments ago?

  Should he seek him out, though? After all, he was strangely close to the mark in identifying who he was. He somehow already knew that the Templars had been stirred, looking for him, even though the search had only been going on for an hour. But that shrewdness—he was no ordinary beggar—and right now Selriph was a lost rat in a maze. While he could orient himself in the general southerly direction towards the suburbs, even down here. The tunnels were still foreign, and it was likely he would run into an assortment of unsightly things as he meandered his way towards a possible exit in the suburbs. Not the best idea.

  Selriph reopened his eyes, spotting another passageway on the far side of the room. Past the grate above, he walked through, going deeper into the labyrinth of subsurface tunnels. The path sloped downwards to the left, towards what seemed like a maintenance shaft that connected to the previous chamber he was in, whatever its original purpose was. To the right, the tunnel stayed level and straight ahead, but the floor was warped and cracked. The wood rotted with age. It seemed that a single step could cause the whole floor to give way.

  Left was the only way he could go, and in that direction, there was the presence of someone.

  The tunnel descended, steeply and slickly. Cold air pressed up from below, heavy with rot and the grave scent of old stone and untouched corpses, likely of the local ‘wildlife’. The steady dripping water accompanied him, each step seeping damp into his boots and threadbare clothes.

  At the base of the decline, he could see a figure. Huddled casually against the wall. He called out.

  “Hey! I know you’re out there; come out and talk. Those Templars are gone.” He wasn’t entirely sure, but it couldn’t be anyone else.

  His voice echoed, bouncing off the slick stone with eerie clarity. Then silence, as the figure emerged from the shadows, hunched and cautious.

  It was the beggar.

  “You... how are you still here?” The man’s eyes were wide, uncertain.

  “Yes,” Selriph replied blankly. “I wasn’t the mage they were hunting, although convincing them was hard work. But I am who I said I was, just another unfortunate soul like you.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The beggar’s suspicion didn’t fade. His fingers fidgeted with the frayed edge of a ragged cloak. “Heh. You must have a serpent’s tongue if you manag’d to get out of that. Havent seen yer around before. Why are you down ere, where the monsters crawl in the dark?”

  “I could ask you the same,” Selriph shot back. “You’ve been on the streets longer than I have, haven’t you? Hoped that you could offer someone your junior a little bit of… advice.”

  The beggar’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen things in these tunnels that’d turn your blood to ice. They are just buried down here. The city built over them to forget.”

  He eyed Selriph with renewed curiosity.

  “But you... you’re interesting, being able to give the Templars the slip like that. I thought you were gonna be a goner.”

  Selriph’s voice came through low. “Say if I wanted to continue giving them the slip, I’d need to be with the other people down here—people scraping by like me. My life up there is ruined now. I just wanna survive.” A half-truth. His life had been ruined long before he set foot in these tunnels.

  The beggar didn’t speak at first. Then, slowly, a cruel smile stretched across his face.

  “Survive? Down here? You don’t survive down ‘ere. You scrape by.”

  He stepped closer. The stench of decay clung to his breath.

  “But if you’re serious, there’s a price. Down ‘ere, nothin’ is free. So tell me—what are you running from? Don’t try to lie to me, not like how you did with doze Templars.”

  Selriph hesitated, then offered a half-truth to satisfy the beggar.

  “Lost everything when my parents were murdered. Been on the streets since, trying to find the bastards who did it.”

  He was dead to his parents—so they might as well be dead to him, too.

  The beggar’s expression shifted subtly. A flicker of knowing passed behind his eyes.

  “Murdered, huh? And what do you think—that you’re gonna just find the person who did dat down ‘ere?” He chuckled dryly. “You’ve got a lot to learn about dis city, boy.”

  His gnarled hand gripped Selriph’s arm, stronger than it had any right to be.

  “You’re chasing something... more than revenge. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Then, in a hoarse whisper,

  “Look, maybe there’s a place for ya down ‘ere. But first, you’ve got to prove yourself. Think you can handle that?”

  Selriph met the beggar’s gaze. “Only one way to find out. What do you need me to do?”

  The beggar’s grin widened.

  “Good.”

  He leaned in close, his eyes glinting with something dark and knowing.

  “There’s a group down ere. A community of fellow downtrodden. We call ourselves the Tunnel Rats. Want in? You’ve got to prove your worth.”

  There it is—the Tunnel Rats.

  He had heard rumours. If he could blend in with them, maybe that would give him time and information to find out how to navigate out of the city from its underbelly…

  Selriph tilted his head. “Prove my worth– how?”

  The beggar smiled. “The Rats don’t take in just any scum. They want people with... talents.” His gaze dropped to the pouch at Selriph’s side. “And if my unch is correct, you ain’t de ordinary thief you claim to be. “

  Selriph smirked. “I mean... I am a thief. A smelly one.”

  In a flash, the beggar pointed at the pouch at Selriph‘s side. “Don’t play dumb. Dat thing you have dere, I betcha you’re hiding more than just coin. And yer eyes, dey twitch when no one’s looking. You look like someone with a secret. Don’t cha?”

  Selriph could scarcely believe the beggar’s shrewdness. The pouch contained various supplies he had scrounged for his escape, but among them, contained something damning; his scribbles on his magical practice.

  It was a wonder how the Templars before did not think about checking his belongings. If they had…

  No time to think of that now. He got out of that predicament by the grace of the divine, or by sheer dumb luck. Back to the matter at hand.

  “Say that I do have something that tells you about my past. What are you going to do about it? Turn me in? You didn’t stick around when the Templars were sniffing me out.”

  The beggar lowered his pointed hand, and his tone softened just slightly. “Smart boy. Nobody down ere deals with the Templars. We’ve got... other arrangements.”

  Selriph relaxed slightly. “Then you should have no issue with me cosying up with you and your friends. It can’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands for whatever… business you guys dabble in.”

  He stepped back, brushing his cloak aside.

  “Heh. Yere serious? You’ll play ball with me?”

  Selriph nodded. “I’m in. What is this test you want?”

  The beggar’s face split into a wolfish grin, and his teeth flashed in the dim light of the tunnels.

  “Not here. Not now,” he said, jerking his head toward a dark passage branching off to the right. “Down dat way, dat old tunnel, down into de Ratways. Dere’s a test and someone who will find you… interesting. Follow me.”

  Interesting does not sound good... not that I have a choice.

  The beggar’s casual stance was framed with the slightest hint of anticipation as he guided the boy through the tunnels beyond.