The city of Veylor located in eastern border outskirts of viltran holy empire was a festering wound on the face of the world, a place where the desperate and the damned clawed at each other for scraps. Its streets were a labyrinth of crumbling stone and rotting wood, filled with the stench of unwashed bodies and the acrid smoke of forge fires. The air was thick with the sounds of haggling merchants, crying children, and the occasional clash of steel as thieves settled their disputes. It was a city that devoured the weak and spat out the strong—or the cunning.
Kael was neither strong nor particularly cunning, but he was a survivor. He moved through the shadows like a ghost, his tattered cloak blending seamlessly with the grime-covered walls. His face was gaunt, his eyes hollow, and his hands calloused from years of picking pockets and begging for coins. He was just another nameless beggar in a city full of them, invisible to the wealthy and despised by the poor.
But tonight, Kael was different. Tonight, he had a plan.
He crouched in the alleyway, his breath visible in the cold night air. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale light over the city. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, and Kael flinched. He hated dogs. They always seemed to sense him, no matter how quiet he was.
His target was the mansion at the end of the street, a sprawling estate surrounded by high walls and guarded by men in polished armor. It belonged to Lord Eryk, a very wealthy merchant who had made his fortune trading in exotic goods from the far reaches of the world and other unsavory means and this city was one where he thrived . Rumor had it that Eryk had recently acquired a strange magic artifact, a shard of black crystal that glowed with an otherworldly light. Kael didn't know what it was or what it was for , but he knew it was valuable. And if it was valuable, it was worth stealing.
He had spent weeks planning this heist, watching the guards' routines, memorizing the layout of the mansion, and bribing a servant for information. He knew the risks—getting caught meant death, or worse—but he was desperate. Winter was coming, and the streets would soon be littered with the frozen bodies of those who couldn't afford to stay warm. Kael had no intention of becoming one of them.
He waited until the guards changed shifts, then slipped out of the shadows and darted across the street. His heart pounded in his chest as he scaled the wall, his fingers finding purchase in the cracks between the stones. He moved quickly, his movements practiced and precise. Years of living on the streets had taught him how to be silent, how to blend in, how to disappear.
When he reached the top of the wall, he paused, scanning the courtyard below. The guards were patrolling, their torches casting long shadows on the ground. Kael waited for the right moment, then dropped down, landing in a crouch behind a bush. He held his breath, listening for any sign that he had been spotted. When none came, he crept forward, sticking to the shadows.
The mansion loomed before him, its windows dark and foreboding. Kael made his way to the side of the building, where a servant's entrance was hidden behind a row of hedges. He picked the lock with practiced ease, then slipped inside.
The interior of the mansion was opulent, with marble floors, gilded furniture, and tapestries depicting scenes of battle and conquest. Kael moved through the halls like a shadow, his senses on high alert. He knew the artifact was kept in Lord Eryk's private study, on the second floor. He just had to get there without being seen.
He reached the stairs and began to climb, his footsteps silent on the carpeted steps. As he ascended, he heard voices coming from above. He froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at his belt. The voices grew louder, and he realized they were coming from the study.
Kael cursed under his breath. He hadn't anticipated this. Lord Eryk was supposed to be at a banquet tonight, not in his study. He considered turning back, but the thought of spending another night hungry and cold spurred him on. He crept up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest.
When he reached the top, he peered around the corner. The door to the study was slightly ajar, and he could see Lord Eryk inside, pacing back and forth. The merchant was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a neatly trimmed beard and a face that was both handsome and cruel. He was dressed in fine robes, and a jeweled dagger hung at his side.
Kael's eyes were drawn to the object on the desk—a shard of black crystal, about the size of a fist. It glowed faintly, casting an eerie light on the walls. Kael felt a strange pull toward it, as if it were calling to him. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed to focus.
He waited for Lord Eryk to turn his back, then slipped into the room. He moved quickly, his eyes fixed on the shard. He was almost there when the floorboard beneath him creaked.
Lord Eryk spun around, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Kael. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice cold and commanding.
Kael didn't answer. He lunged for the shard, his fingers closing around it just as Lord Eryk drew his dagger. The merchant moved with surprising speed, slashing at Kael with the blade. Kael dodged, but the dagger grazed his arm, drawing blood.
He stumbled back, clutching the shard to his chest. The pain in his arm was sharp, but he barely noticed. His entire body was tingling, as if he had been struck by lightning. The shard was warm in his hand, and he could feel its power coursing through him.
Lord Eryk's eyes widened as he realized what Kael had taken. "You fool!" he snarled. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Kael didn't wait to find out. He turned and ran, bolting out of the study and down the stairs. Behind him, he heard Lord Eryk shouting for the guards. He didn't look back. He just ran.
He burst out of the mansion and into the courtyard, the shard still clutched in his hand. The guards were already converging on him, their swords drawn. Kael's mind raced as he tried to think of a way out. He was trapped.
Then, something strange happened. The world seemed to slow down, as if time itself had been stretched thin. Kael could see the guards moving toward him, their movements sluggish and deliberate. He didn't understand what was happening, but he didn't question it. He darted past the guards, his movements impossibly fast.
He didn't stop running until he was back in the safety of the alleyways, his chest heaving and his legs trembling with exhaustion. He leaned against a wall, trying to catch his breath. The shard was still in his hand, its glow faint but steady.
Kael stared at it, his mind racing. What had just happened? How had he moved so fast? And why did he feel so… different?
He didn't have answers, but he knew one thing: his life would never be the same.
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**To Be Continued...**
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