The Shadow Thief

Life in the shadows has its own rhythm, its own melody of whispers and secrets. They call me by many names: thief, scum, idiot. But in the end, they all mean the same thing – just another ghost haunting the streets of a city that never sleeps.

They say the City has a heartbeat, dark and pulsating with desires and fears. And in this labyrinth of stone and steel, I am its silent witness. They may call me thief, but in this City of lies, truth is the greatest theft of all.

"Hmm. Great." I muttered to myself. "They're coming."

I leaped off the balcony and landed gracefully atop a sturdy wooden structure, its surface weathered but reliable. A tattered flag flapped loudly in the wind, providing cover as I surveyed the narrow street below.

With a steady gaze fixed on the distant rooftop, I extended my hand, palm open, and concentrated on the path ahead. As I closed my palm, a surge of energy coursed through me, and in the blink of an eye, I vanished from my current location.

The world around me blurred into a whirl of motion as I traversed the void, the sensation fleeting yet exhilarating. Suddenly, the familiar feeling of solid ground beneath my feet returned, the quiet creaking of timbers beneath me signaling my arrival.

As I reached a vantage point overlooking the cart, the guards' conversation drifted up to me.

"What's the deal with this artifact, anyway?" one guard questioned from his seat at the back of the cart. "It's glowing and – to be honest, giving me the creeps."

"Just shut it and do your job," his companion retorted. "We were ordered to transport this thing directly by the king himself. Don't question it."

"Yeah, I know but – I've got a bad feeling about this," the first guard muttered

"Stop whining and keep your eyes peeled," the other guard snapped, his tone harsh. "Don't be scared just because it is shiny."

"Well, well, well," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. "I do have a weakness for shiny, glowing things."

The coachman halted the cart and dismounted, approaching the guards at the back. He handed a paper of passage to the taller one and nodded in acknowledgment. Without a word, he turned and made his way toward the opposite end of the back alley, his movements suggesting a desire to remain unseen.

"You stay on guard here," the taller guard instructed. "I'll go fetch the captain and her personal coachman. She wants us to take her to the king."

"Alright... but hurry up," the other guard replied.

"You scaredy cat..." He said and entered the tavern.

I nocked a rope-arrow into my bow and released it, the arrow finding its mark on the next building. As it struck, the rope extended, offering a lifeline across the gap. Without wasting a second, I secured the other end to a sturdy fixture. With the rope now serving as a makeshift bridge, I began to walk carefully on it, getting close to the guard under me.

Though I was skilled in the art of deception and stealth, I was not a murderer by any means. Killing was a line I refused to cross, no matter the circumstances.

With my blunt-headed small weapon -a compact, weighted baton designed for precise strikes- I leaped off the rope. As I landed near the unsuspecting guard, I executed a controlled roll to minimize the impact and protect myself from injury.

The guard, taken aback by my sudden appearance, fumbled for his sword with a gasp of fear. However, before he could fully draw his weapon, I moved with lightning speed. With a quick strike, I brought the blunt end of my weapon down on the back of his head, delivering a powerful blow that rendered him unconscious.

"Good…" I whispered. "Now where's this artifact…"

As I drew open the curtains closing the cart's back, my eyes fell upon a small, mysterious box placed in the middle. Glancing around to ensure I wasn't being watched, I leaned in and cautiously reached for the box. Its appearance was unassuming, yet the moment my fingers brushed against its surface, a sense of solidity and impenetrability washed over me.

The box felt solid and tough, like it couldn't be broken easily. It seemed like it needed a special key to open, and I couldn't find one anywhere on the cart.

I checked the guard's pockets, hoping to find the key, but no luck. Feeling frustrated, I tried to force the box open, but it wouldn't budge. It seemed determined to keep its contents hidden.

"Okay, let's try to pick it…"

I retrieved the two pins I had concealed within my leather gauntlets. My left hand found its way to the wrist of my left gauntlet, while my right hand navigated to the corresponding spot on my other arm. In one seamless action, I withdrew the pins simultaneously, their metal catching the subtle light.

I placed the box on the cart and attempted to pick the lock with my tools. I wasn't the best at using magic, considering I only had ten points of mana. The lowest recorded mana score was a mere five, held by a troll. However, thanks to Barton, I compensated for my lack of magical prowess with my adept stealth techniques, effectively bridging the gap in my abilities.

"Shit. No luck. It's sealed with magic." I returned the pins to their place. "Damn. Where's that key…"

With the box in one hand, I looked up, opened my palm, and closed it. I traveled through the void and reappeared at my intended destination. Just as I was about to move, I heard two sets of footsteps below me. It was the guard and the captain, rushing toward the unconscious guard.

The captain glanced up and seemed to hesitate, unsure if she had seen something or not. Fortunately, I was well-prepared for such moments. My hood was pulled low, and the light leather armor I wore blended seamlessly into the darkness of the night. The black neck gaiter extended up to my nose, revealing only my eyes. On my left hand, I wore a special mana-enchanted glove, with only the thumb and index finger fully covered.

"Shit, someone's there!" she yelled. "Catch the thief!"

"Is that... Shadow Dancer?" the guard exclaimed. "Oi, stop ya thief! Stop!"

"He stole the artifact!" the captain shouted. "Stop him at all costs! Stop him!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Where's the key?" I asked calmly, watching the guard's attempts to climb the building and get to me. "If you give it to me, I can fence the artifact. We can split the gold fifty-fifty. How does that sound?"

"You thief! It's for our king! Have you no shame?" she retorted. "Drop the box now!"

"Okay – sixty-forty. Last chance," I replied in a bored tone. "I won't go lower than that."

"St-stop…" the guard finally climbed up and reached the roof I was on. "I got you now!"

In the blink of an eye, I teleported to the next roof. Seeing his efforts were for nothing, the guard just sighed in disappointment and dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath. Poor guy.

"Is this for the king?" I asked. "Why? What's inside the box?"

"Have some shame and give us the box!" she yelled. "You little thief!"

"No key, no box," I said, pacing left and right. "Let's cut a deal, shall we? You two idiots give me the key and say a thief stole it. Pretend like you got hurt – I don't know, stab yourself or something. That way, everyone will believe you didn't let it get stolen without a fight."

"I have honor, thief. Unlike you," she retorted, anger flashing across her face. "You… you… shameless prick!"

"Okay – it was worth a try," I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Then I'm done here. See you soon, captain."

"Stop!" she shouted as she watched me slowly walk away. "No! Stop!"

I opened the door and stepped into my home. The single-room dwelling was dimly lit by a flickering candle on a rough wooden table. The walls, made of uneven stone, were damp and cold to the touch, and a small hearth in one corner provided the only source of warmth. Sparse furnishings -a simple bed with a straw mattress, a worn couch, and a few wooden crates serving as makeshift storage- gave the space a, what was the word – ultro… oh yeah, utilitarian feel.

I sat on my couch, pulled my hood down, and played with the box in my hands, turning it up and down, left and right. It didn't seem like it would be worth anything. But who was I to put a price on something that the king wanted so badly?

"An artifact that glows," I repeated. "Hmm… if I fence it, I might get some serious gold…"

"Who are you talking to?" my little sister, Sura, asked, rising from the pile of blankets and worn clothes she had been lying in.

"Use the bed next time. I didn't even see you there," I said, throwing the box to her.

She caught it in midair. "What's this?"

"I don't know yet," I answered. "An artifact for the king. I still don't know how much it's worth or what it does."

"Stole again, haven't you?" She threw the box back, and I caught it. "You're going to get us in trouble."

"Like we aren't already in trouble…" I stretched my legs onto a crate.

Sura's brown eyes met mine. Her dark hair was cut short, framing a face that always seemed to be a mix of mischief and curiosity.

"How's the glove feeling? I enchanted it with my own hands." She asked, sitting next to me.

"Feels awesome. Gives me a boost to my speed and dexterity."

"Yep. Speed and dexterity… essential for a thief. Though, I'd prefer you to be a paladin or something. Much cooler than a brown and black leathered, masked maniac stealing things left and right."

"Welp, you're stuck with me, little sister. Deal with it."

"Oh, it's after midnight," she said, her face lighting up in one of her rare smiles. "Happy birthday, big bro. You're getting older by the day."

"Oi," I smiled back, which was equally rare for me. "I'm sixteen, not sixty."

"Tomato, tomato. You're getting old-ato," she teased, her eyes twinkling.

"That rhyme thing you just did doesn't even make sense."

"Tomato, tomato, shut the fuck up-ato," she shot back, chuckling.

"Fine, let's change the subject." I placed the box on one of the crates and looked at her. "You were talking about a job yesterday. Will you go –"

A sudden knock on the door made us both snap our heads in its direction. Moments later, the barred windows rattled as they were knocked on too. The sound of men outside reached us, their presence unmistakable.

I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling up. The damned gangs had been milking this district dry for about a year now. They demanded a 'protection coin' that started off affordable but had steadily become extortionate. Balancing feeding ourselves and paying their stupid coin had become increasingly difficult.

Sura's expression shifted to worry, her earlier smile completely gone. "What do we do?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

"We stay quiet," I replied, my heart pounding. "They'll leave if they think no one's home."

"Oh, Axel. Open the door." A man knocked on the window near us. "Come on, buddy. It's your friend James. Open it."

This time, another knock came at the door. "Open it, ya cunt. Open it!"

"Is he not home?" a woman asked. "He's a fucking thief, I mean. He might be outside, doing thief things."

"Eh, you're right. Let's check on him in the afternoon," James said. "Come on, men. Let's go."

Sura and I sighed in relief as we heard their footsteps receding. I got up, opened the curtain a bit, and checked outside. I could see them walking away, swords and bows in hand.

"That was close," my sister said. "They'll be back tomorrow, though…"

"We'll be long gone," I replied. "I'm going to crack this thing open and sell it off. Then we can leave this dump of a district and find ourselves a better place to settle."

I walked toward the door and put my hand on the doorknob. Just as I was about to turn it, my sister stopped me with a tight hug behind.

"Be careful, big bro."

"I will. Keep the door locked, okay?"

"Oh, I was just about to fling it open and invite everyone in for tea," she teased, ruffling my hair.

"Smartass…"