Invasion of the Palace [4]

The Revenant's hold, hidden deep beneath the twisting streets of Koona, felt warmer than usual tonight. The faint flicker of lanterns and scattered embers from the hearth cast a soft golden glow on the walls. The air smelled faintly of resin and damp stone, but for once, the oppressive tension of their heist-planning was replaced by something lighter.

The group gathered in the central chamber, where crates, makeshift chairs, and even a worn couch were pulled into a haphazard circle. Tonight, no maps or blueprints were spread across the table. No contracts were being readied, and no one spoke of the labyrinthine Palace or the danger that awaited them. For once, they had decided—Lancelot's suggestion—to take the night for themselves.

Kord leaned against one of the crates, idly shuffling a deck of cards with deft fingers, his blonde hair tousled as if the stress of the day hadn't quite left him. He scratched at the side of his neck, his ever-present nervous tick flaring as faint whispers from the Mentis realm danced on the edges of his perception.

"Another hand, anyone?" Kord asked, raising an eyebrow as he shuffled.

"You want to lose to me again?" Selene grinned, tossing her white cape behind her as she sprawled across a chair. Her sharp blue eyes sparkled with mischief, her blonde hair pulled back into a loose braid. "Face it, Kord, you're terrible at cards."

"Am I? Or have I just been letting you win?" Kord shot back, smirking.

"Stop flirting with her and deal the cards," Volim interrupted, his voice sharp but laced with dry humor. He sat on the far end of the circle, his jagged helmet gleaming dully in the firelight. Despite his harsh tone, there was a faint smile on his face as he adjusted his red robes. His voice, quiet and precise, always carried the weight of someone who measured each word.

"I think Volim's just upset he can't see my brilliant plays," Kord teased, dealing the cards anyway.

"You should worry more about surviving tomorrow, Eye of the Revenant, than playing cards with a 'pretty thief,'" Volim replied, his tone dripping with mock disdain.

Selene winked at Volim, her grin widening. "He called me pretty. That's two compliments tonight. Who knew the bloodthirsty Volim had a soft spot?"

"Don't push it," Volim muttered, but his smile lingered.

Lock leaned back against the couch, puffing lazily on a resin-filled roll, watching the group with an amused expression. "Kord, you're a glutton for punishment. Selene's going to wipe the floor with you again."

"Then I'll just use his coat to wipe it," Selene quipped, gesturing at Kord's dark attire.

"Try it, and I'll tell everyone you still sleep with a dagger under your pillow," Kord shot back.

"I do, and I'm not ashamed of it," Selene replied with mock pride, holding up her hand to display her razor-sharp nails. "A girl's gotta be prepared."

Czenth stood near the wall, silent as ever, his metal-veined mask catching the firelight in strange patterns. He was polishing his metal gauntlets, his movements methodical. Occasionally, his fingers paused, and the faint glint of his Harmony manipulation flickered in the room, bending the edges of light against the reflective surface of his armor.

"You know," Czenth said suddenly, his deep voice breaking the flow of their banter, "I've always hated this mask."

Damion let out a deep, gravelly chuckle from his corner, where he sat sharpening his jagged knife. His hulking form looked almost comically oversized in the small wooden chair he had claimed. "Then take it off, metal man. Let the world see your ugly mug."

"I'd rather die," Czenth replied without hesitation, his voice dry.

Damion smirked, revealing a jagged set of teeth that gleamed in the light. "You're already halfway there, pal."

Lancelot, perched on a high-backed chair at the edge of the room, watched the exchanges with a faint smile. His dark hair and ashen skin gave him a ghostly appearance in the firelight, but his sharp eyes tracked every movement, every word, as though he were studying the outcomes of a dozen different conversations at once.

"You're all acting like this is the end," Lancelot said finally, his voice calm but resonant. "We're thieves, not martyrs. Enjoy tonight. We've come too far to fall apart now."

Mirak, sitting cross-legged near the fire, glanced at Lancelot. His face was pale, and his breathing was still shallow from earlier. The strain of maintaining the Transference system across the waves had pushed him far past his limits, but he had refused to let it show.

"It's not the end," Mirak said quietly, poking at the fire with a stick. "But it feels close."

"Because you're thinking like a scholar," Lock said, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Too much thinking, not enough drinking." He gestured to the small crate of bottles at his feet.

"I'll take one," Damion rumbled, his voice rough as he reached over. The hulking man popped the cork off a bottle with his teeth, downing half of it in one gulp.

"Damion, you're a nightmare," Selene said, laughing.

"And proud of it," he replied, slamming the bottle down with a grin.

The laughter that followed was genuine, a rare sound in the tension-filled hold. For a brief moment, they weren't a band of criminals planning to break into an impenetrable Palace. They were a family—a strange, broken, chaotic family.

Volim, ever the performer, stood suddenly, pulling a thin blade from his robes. "A toast," he declared, his voice rising above the din.

"To what?" Kord asked, raising an eyebrow.

"To us," Volim said simply. "The Revenant. May we live to see the chaos we leave behind."

"Cheers to that," Selene said, raising her own bottle.

The others followed suit, even Mirak, who gave a small, tired smile as he lifted his drink.

"Tomorrow's going to be hell," Lock said, leaning back with a grin. "But for tonight, we're unstoppable."

The night stretched on, filled with laughter, stories, and the occasional argument. The fire crackled softly as the Revenant reveled in the moment, each of them cherishing this fleeting peace in their own way. Tomorrow, they would face the impossible. But tonight, they were simply a family.