The Thief in the Shadows

The streets of August buzzed with energy as Cynus moved through the crowded marketplace, clutching a small purse of silver coins Kael had handed him that morning. His mentor had sent him into the city with a simple task: gather supplies for their next phase of training.

Simple, of course, if Cynus didn't feel like a lost ember in the roaring flame of the bustling marketplace.

Vendors called out to potential customers, their voices weaving through the sound of clinking coins and murmured bargaining. Some stalls displayed enchanted wares—jewelry that sparkled unnaturally bright, gloves that hummed with faint magic—but Cynus knew better than to approach them. Kael had warned him to avoid wasting money on overpriced baubles.

Still, it was hard not to feel small in the face of it all. Everywhere he turned, wizards displayed their talents: a street performer twirled glowing orbs of water into shapes that danced in the air, while another conjured bursts of harmless sparks to entertain a group of children. Cynus sighed.

"One day, I'll do more than parlor tricks," he muttered under his breath, his fingers brushing against the purse tied at his belt.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden commotion from a nearby potion stand.

"Thief!" a merchant bellowed, his voice cutting through the market noise. He pointed toward the rooftops, where a figure was darting across the tiles, a satchel clutched tightly under their arm.

Cynus's gaze snapped upward. The thief moved with fluid precision, leaping across gaps and vaulting over obstacles as though they'd done this a thousand times.

The merchant's shouts grew louder, drawing attention from nearby guards, but none of them seemed able to keep up. Cynus clenched his fists. The thief wasn't just escaping—they were taunting the crowd below with every graceful leap.

"I can't just stand here," Cynus thought, and before he could second-guess himself, he was sprinting toward the nearest alley.

The alley was narrow and cluttered, crates and barrels stacked precariously along the walls. Cynus pushed past them, his boots slapping against the cobblestones as he strained to keep the thief in his sights.

"Stop running!" he yelled, though the thief showed no sign of slowing.

The figure glanced back, and Cynus caught a glimpse of a boy about his age, with dark, unruly hair and a playful smirk. The thief leapt to the next roof, disappearing over the edge like a shadow.

Gritting his teeth, Cynus summoned a small flame to his palm and hurled it at the ledge ahead of the thief. The fire didn't strike the boy directly, but it forced him to adjust his footing mid-leap. He stumbled, landing awkwardly on the rooftop.

"Not bad, fire-boy," the thief called, straightening with a mocking grin. "But you're going to have to try harder than that."

Cynus scrambled onto the roof, his chest heaving. "Give back what you stole!"

The thief's grin widened as he slung the satchel over his shoulder. "And why should I? You're not a guard. What's it to you?"

Cynus hesitated, his flames flickering uncertainly at his fingertips. "It's wrong, that's what! Now hand it over before I make you!"

The thief laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Make me? You can't even keep up! Tell you what—catch me, and I might think about it."

Before Cynus could respond, the thief darted off again, his movements as quick and fluid as the wind.

Cynus growled under his breath and gave chase. This time, he used his fire to propel himself forward, igniting bursts beneath his feet to leap higher and faster. He was gaining ground, but every time he thought he had the thief cornered, the boy would slip away, his smirk growing wider.

"You're good, I'll give you that," Cynus muttered. "But you're not getting away this time."

Finally, Cynus saw his chance. As the thief prepared to leap to the next roof, Cynus launched another flame, this one larger and brighter. It streaked toward the thief's feet, forcing him to stop abruptly. The thief stumbled, barely catching himself before landing hard on the rooftop.

Cynus skidded to a stop, flames flickering in his hands as he faced the thief. "Nowhere to run," he said, panting.

The thief sat up, brushing dirt off his patched jacket. "Alright, you got me. What now? You going to drag me to the guards?"

Cynus frowned, his flames dimming. "What's in the bag?"

The thief raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Suit yourself." He opened the satchel, spilling its contents onto the rooftop. Cynus blinked.

Bread, fruit, and a small bundle of potion ingredients tumbled out.

"That's what you stole?" Cynus asked, confused.

The thief smirked. "People gotta eat, fire-boy. Those merchants charge triple what the poor can afford. I'm just… redistributing wealth."

Cynus's frustration faltered. Something in the boy's tone—half-joking, half-defensive—made him pause. "You're stealing to survive?"

The thief leaned back, resting on his elbows. "Welcome to the real world, where not everyone has time to chase wizard dreams. You wouldn't get it."

"Then why not use your skills for something better?" Cynus shot back, crossing his arms.

The thief's smirk faded slightly. "Better? Like what? Joining the Archon Wizards? Trust me, fire-boy, they're not handing out golden invitations to people like me."

Before Cynus could respond, a gust of wind swirled through the alley below, carrying Lyric onto the rooftop. She landed lightly, her silver hair catching the sunlight as her sharp gray eyes scanned the scene.

"There you are, Candle-boy," she said, her tone teasing. Then her gaze shifted to the thief, her expression hardening. "Who's this?"

The boy straightened, his grin returning. "Ren. And you must be his babysitter."

Lyric's eyes narrowed, and the wind around her picked up. "Careful, thief. I don't trust people who skulk in shadows."

Cynus raised a hand. "Enough. Ren's… complicated, but he could help us."

Lyric shot him a skeptical look. "Help us how? By stealing supplies?"

Ren grinned, holding up his hands. "I do more than steal. Locks, traps, scouting… You'd be surprised how useful I can be."

Cynus met Ren's gaze. "If you're with us, you're all in. No turning back."

Ren hesitated, then extended a hand. "Fine, fire-boy. Let's see if you're worth the trouble."