Three Crimes

Rhys looked at the small person in front of him with rage swirling in his obsidian eyes. As that black figure's hand was about to pull out the small, delicate plant, Rhy hit his wrist with a stone.

The person looked towards him and even if Rhys couldn't see that person's face, he could feel his anger.

"I got here first," stated Rhy plainly.

That small figure finally looked at him as if it was the first time, he even bothered to pay him any attention. Then a blade about the size of a man's forearm slid down from that black figure's sleeves and holding it at a strange angle, without a word, that thief actually attacked.

It was as if he disdained to even say another word. The meaning of this action was quite obvious. Who got here first didn't matter. What mattered was who had the strength to take this plant away.

Rhys had to dodge the attacks and it put him in a passive position in front of this aggressive person. Since he left his sword in the tent and he wasn't allowed to use his magical energy.

The person in all black made quick, precise attacks showing his level of expertise and strength. It was obvious that Rhys wasn't facing anybody. This person was an expert and if Rhys left a single, even small opening, this person won't hesitate in killing Rhys. His moves were smooth and graceful as he continued to dodge all the deadly attacks of that sharp blade.

Suddenly, the spiritual energy around that delicate plant reached a new peak. The plant might be small but it had long, slender stems and leaves that were bright, glossy green. The most striking feature of this plant was its beautiful, snowflake-like flower. The flower had six petals, each of which was intricately patterned with delicate, branching veins that mimic the intricate structure of a snowflake.

Earlier when Rhys got here, the petals were sky blue but now, as the spiritual energy fermented around it, the petals were turning a darker shade of blue slowly.

This spectacle caught the attention of both Rhys and the thief. Both of them paused to look at the surging spiritual energy that was even palpable to naked eyes now, creating a protective shield around the plant.

Before Rhys could understand what happened, the thief ran over to the edge of the cliff to pull out the plant, and Rhys' body followed on instinct. However, by the time Rhys came behind the thief, the plant was already pulled out of the roots and as soon as the roots of the plant left the ground, the ground shook violently.

Both of them lost their center of gravity and stumbled down the cliff. Rhys had a very bad feeling about this and manipulated the wind as they tumbled throw the air. Since the cliff wasn't a steep one, he soon hit the ground with a thud.

Because of this fall, Rhys's inner rage surged to its height and even the tiny rocks around them started trembling as his energy roared. But before he could attack that thief, the thief fell on his body using him as a safety cushion. Rhys moved his hand wanting to strike this thief to death but his hand seemed to have touched something soft.

As if that wasn't enough...

He heard a sharp intake of breath along with a soft moan making his body stiffen in shock.

The thief pulled his head out of his chest and looked into his eyes. Rhys forgot to breathe as he looked into the eyes before him. He remembered clearly that those eyes were black when they were at the top of the cliff. But, now, there was a silver light swirling in those eyes that enchanted him, and the energy that was roaring like a dragon within him suddenly went silent under the spell of those eyes.

The thief held the blade against his neck and finally spoke in a soft feminine but with a hint of dark tone, "You're intractable."

Rhys tried to move but he realized that his body wasn't listening to him. And it struck him. He was really under the spell of those eyes. Because of the shock he received when his hand came into contact with that small mound on her chest, he actually got distracted and fell into this plot.

"And you're quite surreptitious," commented Rhys.

"Oh, I'm sorry but it's you who was audacious enough to be fascinated by my belongings."

Rhys didn't want to argue with her right now. "Release me!"

"That easily? I don't think so," she said ebulliently. "You have three crimes on your head," she continued. "You wanted the flower I cultivated for years! You belittled me by calling me a dinky thief! And lastly, you acted like a debauchee! Dirty old perve! Who gave you permission to touch my body with your grubby hands?"

"And do you realize how many crimes you're committing by treating me like this? I can have your head right here, right now!" seethed Rhys at her.

Neither did he know that the flower belong to her nor did he know it was a woman! Did he look like he lacked women?

"And who are you calling a perve? There is nothing even there to touch! Do you think I lack women that I'd look at you? And if that flower didn't call me here, I wouldn't be here!"

The woman finally stopped and her blade moved away from his neck as she asked in confusion, "The Blue Flakes called you over?"

"What's the Blue Flakes?"

"The flower," she answered and by now, she had gotten up from his body. Because since he didn't even know the flower's name, he definitely didn't really come to steal it.

It's quite possible that her aggression provoked him to become competitive.

She was contemplating something when she felt like someone was coming. She crouched down beside Rhys and held his chin as she asked, "You really felt the calling?"

"Yes," he answered.

She suddenly took out the flower and broke a petal leaving only five petals of the bloom. She threw it at his body saying, "If you can use it, it's yours!"

And with those words, she disappeared into the night.