First, a whoosh of air, followed by the sound of a hard whack! Then, the sound of three boys laughing, carried by the wind across the Citadel's cold, iron surface.

"My turn!" one of them shouts, taking hold of the bat. Another runs to grab a small purple ball... no, not a ball. Something... with a beak?

He climbs one of the street signs, the little purple thing held tight in his hand. Climbs up high so he's sitting right on top of the words "Lord Kass Boulevard", then looks down. "Ready?" he asks.

The other boy looks up. "Ready!"

The third boy is far down the dark street. "Ready!" he shouts and waves. It's still too early for most adults to be up. The sun is still sleeping in the east horizon, while the moon is just settling down for bed in the west.

The boy on the sign drops the purple beaked thing.

The boy on the street hits it hard.

The boy at the other end of the street gets below it... catching it with one hand - behind his back.

"Great catch!" the first boy yells, climbing back down the street sign.

"Behind your back and everything!" the second boy says, handing the bat off to the kid climbing down.

"My turn to swing!" the third one says, carrying the little purple beaked thing.

They argue for a little while... the sun bringing its first rays of light to the sky. They switch places, get ready, and the purple thing drops again.

Whack!

It flies high this time, higher than they've hit it before. Up, up, up. Down, down, down.

The boy at the end of the street steps under it... and under a tall shadow that stretches across his vision. A large, gloved hand reaches out and catches the little purple beaked thing. The boy turns around to see...

"Exactly what do you think you're doing?" the armoured Eyrie asks, its eyes dark in the dim light.

"Uh..." the first kid says. He doesn't say anything else. He looks for his two friends, but all he sees is the slowly rising sun and a street sign that reads "Lord Kass Boulevard."

The armoured Eyrie looks at the little purple beaked toy, turning it over and over in his hands.

"You did this?" he asks.

"Um..." the first kid says. He doesn't say anything else.

"Come with me," the Eyrie orders, picking the boy up by the scruff of his neck before carrying him away. Down the street, hiding behind a closed newspaper vendor, two sets of eyes watch. They watch their friend as he yells for help. Help from his friends... help from anybody. Everyone hears him... nobody answers.