A Place to Rest, A Place to Take

Six months had passed.

Lucian had wandered, taking what he could, searching for strength, for something—**someone—**worth stealing from. He had grown stronger. Rank C now. His mastery over Envy had deepened, its whispers now his own thoughts, indistinguishable from his desires.

And Veyren?

Gone.

Lost to the power he had wielded, his name slipping from existence like a forgotten story. Lucian had left him behind, knowing he would never see his mentor again.

He had no master anymore.

He had no guide.

He only had the hunger.

And so he wandered.

---

The first time he saw her, she was laughing.

Lucian sat beneath the shade of a ruined tavern, watching the city gates ahead. He had no money, no place to go, no purpose but to find something worth taking.

She stood in the crowded street, talking to a merchant, her smile effortless.

Her chestnut-brown hair was tied lazily to one side, strands slipping free with the wind. Her emerald-green eyes held a liveliness Lucian hadn't seen in a long time. A staff strapped to her back marked her as a magic-user.

Then—she looked at him.

Lucian tensed. He expected wariness, suspicion, the same cautious glances he'd seen a thousand times.

Instead, she smiled.

"You look hungry."

Lucian didn't answer.

She tilted her head. "You also look broke."

Lucian exhaled. "Sharp."

She grinned. "I know."

Before he could argue, she tossed a small bag into his lap. Money.

Lucian frowned, glancing between her and the weight in his hands. "What's this?"

She turned, already walking away. "Come on. I know a place."

She didn't look back.

As if she fully expected him to follow.

And despite himself—he did.

---

The city was loud, bustling with movement, a place built on trade and magic. Stone streets lined with shops, towering spires reaching toward the sky. Lucian had seen cities before, but this one felt different.

More alive.

Elara moved through the streets like she belonged, offering casual waves to vendors, exchanging quick words with passersby. She was known here. She was trusted.

Lucian watched, calculating. She was different from him.

And then she stopped in front of a small, well-kept inn.

She handed the innkeeper a few coins without hesitation. "A room for him. One night."

Lucian narrowed his eyes. "You don't even know me."

She smirked. "Should I?"

Lucian didn't answer.

Elara just chuckled. "You look like you need a place to sleep. That's enough for me."

She turned to leave but hesitated at the stairs, glancing back. "Get some rest, thief."

Lucian stiffened.

"What?"

She tapped the side of her head. "You move like someone who's used to taking."

A grin.

"Good night."

And then she was gone.

Lucian stood there for a long moment, staring after her.

He wasn't sure if he should be amused or unsettled.

---

The next morning, Lucian stood before the Adventurer's Guild.

Elara stretched beside him, lazily leaning on her staff. "You're strong, right?"

Lucian shrugged. "Enough."

She grinned. "Then let's make some money."

Lucian raised a brow. "You want to team up?"

Elara winked. "You owe me a night's rent. This is how you pay me back."

Lucian exhaled, his gaze shifting to the guild's towering doors.

An adventurer.

It wasn't his path.

But for now—it would do.

For now, he would play along.

Until he found something worth taking.