The sun beat down relentlessly on Kai's back as he traversed the dusty, chaotic pathways leading to the city docks. The midday heat seemed to amplify the stench of brine, fish, and industrial residue that perpetually hung over this part of the city. He kept his head low, his dark, common clothing designed specifically to make him fade into the background—just another nondescript figure hurrying through the grime. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to forfeit the job and trust that some other, less criminal, path to the Academy would materialize. But the memory of the looming deadline, and the cold, hard logic of necessity, pushed him forward.
He eventually reached the designated meeting spot: an old, abandoned warehouse distinguished by a massive, rusted iron crane looming over its skeletal remains. The building itself looked like a monument to industrial decay, its corrugated metal siding peeling away like sunburnt skin.
Leaning against the grime-streaked concrete wall was the figure he sought. The man was tall, perhaps a few years older than Kai, and carried an air of stillness that spoke of practiced control. He wasn't dressed like a dockworker or a brute; his clothes were dark, well-cut, and functional, blending in not through shabbiness, but through pure, deliberate shadow. His face was entirely obscured by the deep shadow of a hood pulled low, a common enough practice in this city to evade the myriad of surveillance spells that the wealthier districts employed.
The figure straightened, pushing off the wall with an economy of motion that Kai instantly noted.
"You're Kai?" the man asked. His voice was a surprise—it was low, smooth, and utterly devoid of regional accent, the voice of someone who chose his words carefully and infrequently.
Kai nodded, his eyes meticulously cataloging the man's stance, the way his hands rested near his pockets. "Yeah, that's me. You're Rook?"
Rook gave a short, affirmative nod, his hidden gaze seemingly piercing the shadows of Kai's own hood. "That's me. The Broker spoke highly of you. I've heard quite a bit, actually."
Kai's eyebrow arched under his hood. He had no reputation to speak of, unless the Broker had been investigating the desperate edges of the city's underbelly. "All good, I hope."
Rook's lips—the only visible part of his expression—curled into a faint, almost predatory smile. "Let's just say I've heard you're… precise. And highly motivated. Someone worth watching, given your background and where you're currently headed."
The comment stung. Rook knew about the Academy, or at least his aspirations. Kai realized the Broker hadn't just hired him; she had vetted him, digging up the pressure points that made him reliable. He returned the smile, forcing confidence he didn't feel. "Motivation is never a problem. I'm ready to get this done."
"Shall we?" Rook said, gesturing towards a section of the warehouse wall where a large, iron service door was partially ajar. "We'll use the light inside for the review. Time is, as they say, the enemy of secrecy."
Kai followed Rook inside. The air inside the warehouse was cooler, thick with the smell of moldering wood and rust. Rook led him to a relatively clean corner where a tattered canvas cloth covered a flat surface. Rook peeled back the cloth to reveal a meticulously detailed schematic, clearly a professional architectural blueprint of Lord Vesper's estate.
"This is our target," Rook began, his voice dropping into a focused, instructional tone. He pointed with a thin, metallic stylus. "Lord Vesper is a collector of ancient artifacts, and the Pyrope relic is his crown jewel. He keeps it in his primary safe-locker, located beneath his private study, here."
Kai leaned in, absorbing the details. "The Broker mentioned the main wacthmen will be distracted by a" party
"Correct. That gives us a window of about 45 minutes, starting at 3:15 PM, before the internal guard rotation changes and the ceremonial guards move from the perimeter to the main halls," Rook explained. "We avoid the main gates entirely. My contact provided access to the manor's original, subterranean drainage system—an old tunnel used for water runoff before the city upgraded its mains. The entrance is small, almost imperceptible, hidden beneath a patch of overgrown climbing ivy on the eastern wall."
Rook traced the route on the schematic. "We enter here. The tunnel leads us directly below the primary kitchen compound. From there, a small space takes us behind the wine cellar, and eventually, to a low-traffic service passage near the study."
"The vault itself?" Kai asked, noting the heavy cross-hatching and complex symbols around the designated vault location.
Rook's lips tightened slightly. "It's not going to be easy. The noble's guards are top-notch—a mix of seasoned veterans and a few low-grade combat magic. The vault itself is protected by both complex physical locks and a layered arcane defense. The outer layer is a standard seismic ward; the inner layer is a focused mana siphon, designed to drain the energy of anyone trying to brute-force a magical entry. You," Rook emphasized, pointing the stylus at Kai, "will be handling the low-level magical distractions and the physical breaches. I will handle the guards and the anti-magic countermeasures on the vault itself. I won't risk the siphon draining your limited reserves."
Kai nodded, his heart starting to race, not from fear, but from the professional clarity of the plan. "And the non-lethal mandate? I stick to physical disabling. No spells that can cause lasting harm."
"As agreed," Rook confirmed. "We neutralize, we do not eliminate. This must look like a professional retrieval, not an assassination attempt. If a guard is found injured, they will look for common thieves. If they are found dead, the Pyrope family—or worse, the city's High Inquisitor—gets involved. That's a line we don't cross."
They reviewed the plan for another fifteen minutes, running through contingencies for jammed locks and unexpected patrol patterns. When they were finished, Rook rolled up the schematic, his eyes—still hidden—holding Kai's. "We move now. We approach the estate on foot, from the park adjacent to the east wall."
The estate was imposing, a fortress of wealth and top magical security. The stone walls towered, and Kai could see the faint, almost invisible shimmer of the anti-scrying wards humming around the perimeter.
Rook led them silently through the dense foliage of the adjacent park. He stopped precisely at the eastern wall, moving aside a thick curtain of ivy to reveal a tiny, iron-reinforced door, practically invisible unless one knew exactly where to look. Rook produced a slender, specialized key—not a lock-pick, but an actual key—and used it. The tumblers turned with a nearly silent click.
"After you," Rook whispered, holding the door barely wide enough for a lean person.
Kai passed through, finding himself in a narrow, damp tunnel—the old drainage tunnel. The air was cool and smelled of earth and stagnant water. Rook followed, securing the door behind them with another quiet click.
They moved in tandem, Kai relying entirely on Rook's intimate knowledge of the estate's hidden pathways. The tunnel gave way to a cramped crawl space, and after a tense five minutes of maneuvering, they reached the service corridor.
Rook flattened himself against the stone wall, signaling Kai to do the same. They paused, listening. Only the distant, muffled sounds of the party—a faint classical melody and murmuring voices—reached them.
Rook began to move toward the study, but as they rounded a blind corner, Kai's keen eyesight caught a flicker of movement. He nudged Rook hard, pointing down the passageway.
"Hold," Kai mouthed.
The figure in the distance was a guard, tall and broad, standing sentinel at the archway that led to the central hall—and, Kai realized, the only clear path to the study stairs. The guard held a heavy, specialized crossbow, his finger resting precisely on the trigger mechanism. He was positioned perfectly to cover the Hallway.
"Ah," Rook whispered, his voice barely audible, the first trace of genuine concern entering his tone. "Looks like Lord Vesper had a last-minute change to his internal security. He's positioned at the inner approach to the vault. We've got a problem."
Rook's eyes met Kai's—a silent command passing between them, a cold, calculating intensity. "He's yours. Distract, disable, and remain silent. I'll clear the passage further down and secure the door to the study before the next sweep."
Kai nodded once, accepting the task. This was his role: the swift, physical neutralization.
The guard sneered, having finally spotted the two intruders merging with the shadows. He raised his crossbow slowly, confident in his position and armament. "You're no match for me, kid," he growled, the sound echoing slightly in the confined space.
Kai didn't speak. He blurred into motion, relying on the agility and evasive maneuvers he'd perfected years ago. The guard, despite his size, was slow to react. Kai launched a swift kick, not at the guard, but at the crossbow's firing mechanism, sending the heavy weapon clattering harmlessly away. He followed up with a quick series of strikes to the guard's solar plexus and jaw—precise, non-lethal blows designed to stun and disorient.
The guard stumbled back, gasping, his face reddening with a mix of pain and fury. He was strong, relying on brute force, but Kai used his speed and lower center of gravity to dance around the clumsy, sweeping blows, wearing him down until the guard finally slipped on the smooth stone floor and collapsed, his head hitting the dirt with a dull thud.
Kai stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion, securing the man's restraints quickly.
He heard the distinct, muffled sounds of a rapid skirmish further down the hall—a crack of metal on stone, a grunt, and a soft, rhythmic thudding. Rook was executing his part.
But before Kai could rush to assist, a new figure emerged from the deeper shadows of a recessed alcove, blocking the path toward Rook.
It was a young woman, her face tight with intense, focused concentration. She wasn't carrying a physical weapon, but held aloft a small, uncut crystal that pulsed faintly with internal blue light. As Kai watched, mesmerized, the air around her began to violently vibrate, accompanied by a faint, unnerving, high-pitched humming that seemed to resonate inside his bones.
"Ability: Sonic Disruptor," Kai whispered, instantly recognizing the signature of a low-grade sonic mage. It was a weak, common, defensive ability, but if used correctly, it could disorient and even rupture internal organs.
Rook stumbled back into Kai's view, his face already bruised, blood trickling from a cut above his brow. He was clearly struggling to maintain his footing against the focused waves of sonic pressure.
The woman smiled, a chillingly confident curve of her lips. "You're going to regret coming here," she said, her voice cutting clearly through the rising sonic distortion.
Kai kept his face hidden in the relative darkness, his eyes fixed on the pulsing crystal. He knew he couldn't let her target Rook again. He had to disrupt her focus, her channel, without using his own precious, limited mana.
With a deep, stabilizing breath, Kai charged forward, not towards the woman, but along the edge of the corridor, using the shadows and the rhythmic sonic bursts to mask the sound of his feet. He had to defeat the woman and ensure Rook secured the vault door before the 45-minute window slammed shut.