NEED TO BE ALONE

I stepped out into the cool night air, making my way through the back alleyways until I found a suitable building. Putting the box inside my coat pocket, I began my ascent. I scaled the wall, my fingers and feet finding holds on the rough stone. Halfway up, I pushed off and wall-ran across a smoother section, momentum carrying me past a tricky spot. Reaching a ledge, I leaped and grabbed onto an old, rusty sign hanging above the street. It creaked under my weight as I pulled myself up, balancing on its narrow frame.

"Money, money, money." I whispered. "Why must you hate me?"

Spotting a wooden fixture on the next building, I leaped toward it, gripping it tightly with both hands. With the momentum propelling me forward, my body swung ahed. At the perfect moment, I released my grip, hurtling through the air before landing gracefully on the balcony below.

"Barton." I said. "Maybe he can help me."

I dashed along the balcony's railing, then leaped across to the next building which was ten meters away. Grabbing onto a sturdy wooden beam, I pulled myself up onto the roof. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I surveyed the city below before moving on.

"Hear ye, hear ye!" boomed the town crier from below. "The curfew is now in effect. Any found outside will be in breach of Gravif's law. Hear ye, hear ye! Curfew is now in effect. All citizens, indoors! Now!"

"Curfew, huh." I said as I walked on the rooftop. "I wonder if they have curfews in one of the rich districts. Like the Clear district…"

Barton heard a sound from behind and pretended not to notice at first. He slowly inched toward one of the crates, his muscles tense. With a quick movement, he raised his arm and grabbed his sword from the crate. Spinning around to where the sound had come from, but he found nothing.

"Huh," he muttered, his grip on the sword relaxing slightly.

As he turned back, his eyes widened in surprise. There I was, sitting casually on a chair with my legs propped up on the table, rocking back and forth on the chair's back legs.

"Where did you come from, you rat?" he asked, his voice shaky. "Jesus, you just gave me a heart attack."

"I need help, Barton," I said, pulling the box from my coat pocket and holding it up. "Gotta open this."

Barton eyed the box skeptically. "The so-called 'Shadow Dancer' can't open one tiny box? You've fallen, Axel."

I leaned forward, the chair settling on all four legs. "It's tight shut with magic. I can't crack it open."

Barton sheathed his sword, shaking his head. "Magic, huh? Alright, let me see it."

I handed the box over, and he examined it closely, his brow furrowing in concentration. "This is some serious enchantment," he murmured, turning the box in his hands. "What's inside that's so important?"

"No idea," I replied, watching him work. "But the king wants it badly, and I need to find out why."

We were in a dimly lit, dusty warehouse filled with crates stacked haphazardly around us. Antique items lay scattered on various surfaces, most of them fakes designed to deceive unsuspecting buyers. Cobwebs hung in the corners, and the air was thick with the scent of old wood and mustiness. The only light came from a few flickering lanterns, casting long shadows and giving the place an abandoned feel.

"James and his men came to my door again," I said, breaking the silence. "They want money."

"Damn idiot," Barton chuckled, shaking his head. "Protection money. He can suck my balls."

"Yeah – you've got your people. I'm alone, can't defend myself."

"Then join me. Stop taking gigs from me time to time and actually commit."

"Nah, I'm cool. I won't become one of your brainless henchmen." I pointed at the box. "Can you crack this or not?"

"Nope. Tight as a nan's cunt," he said, shaking his head. "It's not some ordinary magic I'm feeling coming out of this box."

"Shit."

Barton was a stout man of 45 with a bald head and a thick beard covering his round face. His belly stretched his shirt, and his movements were slow due to his weight. He was the same height as me, 5'10.

"Sorry, boy. Outta luck," he said, placing the box on the table in front of me.

"Father," a girl called out as she entered the room through the open door. "Oh, Axel."

Mira was a slender 16-year-old with long, dark hair that fell in waves around her shoulders. Her eyes were a soft brown, and, for some reason, her cheeks flushed of pink when she saw me. She hesitated for a moment, looking shy and unsure.

"Mira," I said, offering a small smile. "Hey."

"What are you... doing here?" she asked, glancing between her father and me.

"Nothing," I replied, trying to sound casual. "I was just leaving."

"Oh, why? Stay around for a while." She said. "I can make us some tea, and maybe –"

"Thanks, but no." I put the box in my coat pocket. "Thanks Barton. Mira. See you around."

"Y-yeah…" She sounded disappointed. "See you tomorrow? It's the second day of school – I'm still excited about the whole thing, you know."

"Hmm. Sure. See you."

The Crestwood Academy was full of students trying to catch the early morning class. The uniform was simple yet elegant: the boys wore crisp white shirts, navy blazers, and matching trousers, while the girls donned white blouses, navy blazers, and pleated skirts. All students had a crest embroidered on their blazers, signifying their place at the academy.

Although classes hadn't started yet, the courtyard was already alive with activity. Friends greeted each other with smiles and laughter, discussing the day's upcoming lessons. In the center, the fountain with a woman's statue released a gentle stream of water into its basin. Some students sat on the edge of the fountain, engaged in conversation about homework and other matters as they waited for their lessons to begin.

"Good morning," Mira said, quickening her pace to catch up with me. "You seem off."

"Do I? I guess I am off," I replied. "How are you?"

"Good… just sleepy," she said, stifling a yawn. "What did you talk with my father about yesterday?"

"Just some business. That's all."

"Okay, okay. I won't pry," she said, her tone lightening. "Oh, happy birthday. I bought this for you."

She handed me a pair of boots from the box she was holding, the color matching my 'night-time' outfit. She must've noticed the poor condition of my old boots yesterday. I'd only worn them for about six months, but they were already falling apart thanks to my 'active' lifestyle.

I grabbed the boots and examined them. They were an expensive pair. If it wasn't for Mira, I would've sold them by the end of the day..

"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," she shrugged, moving a bit closer to me. "Shadow Dancer."

"Such an idiotic name," I said, rolling my eyes.

"People like cool things. That's why they named you Shadow Dancer."

"Yeah – come on, we're going to be late to class."

The classroom was simple, with wooden desks arranged in rows facing the front of the room. Sunlight filtered in through the small, leaded glass windows, casting warm patterns of light on the worn wooden floor. Students murmured quietly to each other, exchanging notes and whispers as they waited for the teacher to arrive.

I sat in the middle seat by the window, resting my head on my arms, trying to hide my troubled thoughts from the others. My mind raced with worries about earning gold quickly to protect my sister from harm. If James and his thugs got to her, I'd never forgive myself.

"Okay, class. Sit down," Mr. Vlad announced as he entered the room, opening the door with a creak. "We'll only have this lesson today, and then you're free to go."

"Why?" one of the students asked.

"The king's valuable possession got stolen yesterday," Mr. Vlad explained, his voice carrying authority. "The guards are combing every little nook and cranny for the suspect. We'll finish this lesson, and then you'll go home."

Murmurs and whispers filled the room as I kept my head low, lost in my own thoughts. I had to find a way to open the box, but I felt like I was out of options. If Barton, the best mage I've ever known, couldn't crack it, then who could?

Mira, noticing my troubled state, moved her desk closer to mine and poked me with her elbow. I looked up, meeting her concerned gaze.

"What?" I muttered, trying to sound unaffected.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"I am," I lied, avoiding her eyes.

"It's rainy outside. Maybe it's affecting you?" she suggested, her brow furrowed with worry.

"Forget about me, Mira," I said, burying my head in my arms once more. "Let's just get through this lesson and be done with it."

"O-okay... You don't have to be a dick about it, though..." Mira replied with a sad tone.

"Sorry," I apologized, my voice muffled by my arms. "I just need to be alone, Mira. Please."