chapter 3: A Thief?

Beneath the golden glow of the morning sun, he sat, surrounded by tiny, winged creatures—delicate beings with shimmering bodies that pulsed softly with light. They flitted around him in perfect harmony, their translucent wings creating a gentle hum. He watched them, an enchanting smile gracing his lips, his light green eyes glimmering like sunlit emeralds, deep and full of a silent wisdom that seemed beyond his years. His gaze was soft yet mesmerizing, carrying a quiet mystery, as if he held secrets only the earth itself knew.

As he blinked slowly, his lashes casting faint shadows over his flawless skin, a voice suddenly shattered the tranquility.

"Someone, please! Stop him!"

The desperate plea came from the distance, growing nearer. He turned, his ethereal gaze locking onto the scene unfolding before him.

A boy, about his age, was sprinting through the lush greenery, his silvery hair catching the sunlight in a dazzling shimmer. His features were striking—mischievous, full of playful defiance, yet so effortlessly innocent that one could be fooled into trust. His frame was lean yet agile, not too thin nor too bulky, perfectly built for a trickster. A small pouch dangled from his grip, and his grin was that of someone who reveled in chaos.

Behind him, a girl gave chase. Her raven-black hair flowed wildly, caught in the rhythm of the wind, a striking contrast against her fair skin. Her lips, tinted soft pink with a touch of red, parted slightly as she called out again, her voice urgent yet melodious. Her beauty was bewitching, her soft, expressive eyes holding a depth that could ensnare hearts with a single glance. She was slender, elegant, her movements filled with a natural grace, yet determined as she pursued the mischievous boy.

"Stop him! Someone, please!" she pleaded again, her breath quickening.

Zehron reacted instantly. His body moved with an effortless swiftness, his well-built frame launching into motion. His strides were long and powerful, his legs carrying him across the bustling street with ease. Weaving through stalls and dodging passersby with precise, fluid movements, he set his sights on the silver-haired boy.

The thief, who had been grinning mischievously, did a quick double take when he saw Zehron approaching at an alarming speed.

"Wait—what? Why is he so fast?!" the silver-haired boy yelped, gripping the pouch tighter.

Zehron closed the distance in seconds.

"Stop at once." His voice was smooth yet firm, carrying a natural authority that made even the thief hesitate.

Before the silver-haired boy could react, Zehron lunged—swift and calculated. In one fluid motion, he snatched the pouch from the thief's hand and, without breaking stride, tossed it back to the girl.

"Ah—!" The girl caught it, blinking in surprise.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" the thief shouted in disbelief. "What just happened?! What kind of reflexes—?!"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Zehron's other hand shot out, grabbing the thief by the collar.

"AUGH—!" The silver-haired boy flopped like a ragdoll, feet barely touching the ground.

The girl crossed her arms, smirking. "Good. Keep holding him like that."

"EXCUSE ME—?! What do you mean 'keep holding'?! Have some sympathy!" The thief flailed, his silver hair sticking up wildly from the struggle. "I think my soul is leaving my body!"

Zehron raised an eyebrow. "Lie."

"No it's.... NOT—!"

The girl huffed. "Serves you right! You always pull these stupid pranks."

The thief groaned, dangling helplessly in Zehron's grip. "Yeah, yeah, lesson learned, blah blah—NOW PUT ME DOWN!"

Zehron didn't budge.

Instead, he spoke in his deep, rich voice—calm, steady, yet strangely compelling.

"Apologize first."

The thief froze. He tilted his head slightly, his silver bangs falling into his face.

"Huh?"

Zehron's grip tightened slightly.

"Agh—fine! I'm sorry! I deeply regret my actions! I have learned the error of my ways!" the thief blurted dramatically. "Your highness, your grace, your most beautiful and wonderful self, please forgive me!"

The girl frowned. "That sounded so fake."

"Hey, I put effort into that!" He shouted

"Apologize properly." Zehron's voice was smooth yet commanding, making the thief pause again.

He sighed heavily. "Alright, alright... I'm sorry for stealing your stuff, okay? There, happy?"

The girl narrowed her eyes but eventually nodded. "Hmph. Fine. You're lucky I'm forgiving."

Zehron finally released him.

The thief stumbled forward, rubbing his neck dramatically. "Ow... your hands are like iron clamps."

The girl looked at Zehron curiously. "Hey... what's your name?"

Zehron blinked, caught off guard.

The silver-haired boy perked up, immediately regaining his energy. "Ooooh, now this is interesting!" He grinned. "Mystery guy, tell us your name!"

"I'm gonna go" says Zehron

"Wait please not yet! You helped me! Please atleast tell me your name!"

Zehron's face remained completely unreadable as he said in a flat, almost uninterested tone, "Zehron. Zehron Astravahn."

Her eyes gleaming with warmth, placed a delicate hand on her chest and introduced herself with a bright, elegant smile. "I'm Elvienne Soléa." Her voice was as soft as a gentle breeze, carrying a charm that naturally drew people in.

Before she could say anything more, the silver haired boy suddenly stepped forward with a cheeky grin. "And I am Sylus Veyrin!" He made a dramatic gesture, as if expecting applause for his grand introduction.

Zehron blinked once. His expression remained completely indifferent. His sharp green eyes held no excitement, no curiosity, nothing at all. It was as if he had already lost interest in the conversation the moment it started.

"Okay," he muttered plainly, then, without another word, he turned on his heels and began walking away.

Sylus watched him go, completely dumbfounded. He exchanged glances with Elvienne before throwing his hands in the air. "Wait, that's it? Just 'okay'?! No 'nice to meet you'? No 'let's be friends'? Is he even real?"

Elvienne sighed but couldn't help the amused smile on her lips.

Sylus huffed and crossed his arms. "Well, I have nothing better to do, so I'm just gonna follow him home."

Elvienne, at first, shook her head disapprovingly. "You can't just follow someone home, Sylus."

But as she watched Zehron's retreating figure, something about him intrigued her.

With a thoughtful look, she finally said, "…Actually, let's go."

Sylus gasped dramatically. "Elvienne! I expected this from me, but you?!"

She rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. And just like that, the two of them hurried after Zehron, who, despite noticing them, acted like they didn't exist.