You might think that a night swarming with Templars would spell disaster for any thief, but you'd be gravely mistaken.
Oh, certainly, filching valuables from most places proved arduous, yet for me? This presented the perfect opportunity. I merely wished Vita had remained home to tend the children during Beehive Rock's nocturnal passage. I could only entrust Rowan's illusions to safeguard them - should circumstances deteriorate, I'd abort this mission without hesitation.
Alas, Vita. I prayed she hadn't entangled herself in troubles beyond her capacity. She matured so rapidly, almost imperceptibly to me. I yearned for her to remain home more often... No, it was I who should have devoted more time to our children. I could have accomplished so much more for them. Imagine if I could retain the profits from my thefts! Those accursed noble families.
As I finalized my equipment, Rowan descended the ladder.
"Are you certain about this?" he inquired.
"Absolutely," I replied, striding over to plant a kiss on his cheek. I allowed him to grasp me mid-stride, savoring the security of his arms around my waist.
"Please don't go," he pleaded, not releasing his hold. "Not the Templars' treasures. You know I'm negotiating with them - this could potentially—"
"To hell with the Templars," I retorted. "They won't lift a finger to free us from our shackles. They crave perpetual control. Even if I weren't desperate, I'd undertake this heist."
Rowan furrowed his brow, though his attempt at a stern expression failed miserably. I kissed his nose and wrapped my arms around him.
"It'll be fine," I assured him. "They won't even sense me. After Beehive Rock's passage, all the formidable ones will be abroad. From here to the treasure, only minor lackeys stand in my way. I'll succeed effortlessly."
"When have you ever succeeded effortlessly?" Rowan challenged.
"Even when fortune favors me and I remain undetected, they'll know it was you."
"How could they possibly identify me?" I protested.
"You're the only lunatic in this city daft enough to pilfer from the inner sanctum."
"Correction! I'm the only exquisite and capable lunatic audacious enough to infiltrate the inner sanctum."
"If you're never detected, does your appearance matter?" Rowan asked, deadpan.
"Trivialities!" I dismissed, releasing him. "The island approaches. Time for the most exquisite thief to embark."
He grunted, shaking his head, yet failed to suppress a smile.
"Stay safe, Mother of Thieves," he teased.
"And you, Father of Illusions," I quipped.
"Oh, come now. You've heard the designation. You're the mother, but I'm most certainly not the father."
I huffed.
"Yes, dear. Don't dwell on why she insists upon this point. Farewell."
Ascending the ladder swiftly, I left him pondering his paternal inadequacies - such an endearing fool, sharp as a dagger yet still a fool. Ah, how I adored him.
"Lynn!" the children cheered as I ascended.
I smiled, embracing each one in turn.
"Behave! Stay indoors! Cease pulling hair, understand? Apologize to her, darling. Don't insert insects into your mouth, alright? Infections may occur."
Ronny, Basra, Katie, Norman, Raphael, Jari, Dudley, Sonya, Angelien, Jarod, Larkin, Sylvie, Vita - for any of these children, I'd leap from this island without hesitation. They were my life, my hope, my joy. Regardless of when they joined us, they became family.
Someday, those who oppressed them would face retribution. But today, I'd play the dutiful thief, acquiring what they required.
After embracing the children, I exited swiftly. Ordinarily, I'd traverse rooftops to my destination, but on this night of Beehive Rock's passage, all eyes fixated skyward. Thus, I chose the lower paths, darting through alleys and first-floor windows, hugging the ground until locating an opportune sewer entry. Navigating through filth and excrement proved distasteful, yet I'd grown accustomed. My profession didn't demand cleanliness; the sewers offered the most direct route to the inner city.
Emerging from the muck, I slipped into a concealed alcove beside the target edifice. Ideal - secluded, as the wealthy preferred not to observe sewer workers wallowing in filth nearby. Moments later, I scaled the wall, traversing opulent alleys. In my district, even the refuse might hold value. This city reeked of chaos; I couldn't discern whether my actions improved or worsened its state. Regardless, I'd ensure a better life for my family.
The inner city's Templar temple induced unease, its twisted marble columns adorned with vine patterns ascending to support an ever-watchful eye. Approaching the main entrance, the stone eyes seemed to follow regardless of your position. Naturally, I avoided it, slipping past several guards in the courtyard toward a smaller rear entrance. The lock proved simple, lacking magical wards, suggesting alarms wouldn't trigger - likely reserved for subterranean regions.
The interior disoriented, corridors winding like those bizarre columns. I encountered only one Templar knight, as anticipated - most patrolled the streets this night. Mapping the layout mentally, I soon located a door leading to the stairwell, guarded by two knights. Perfect!
However, detection seemed inevitable. Sighing, I ensured my bangs concealed my headscarf - combat would complicate matters - then launched from the corner.
"Halt!" a knight commanded, raising his sword. "You cannot—"
I could, and would proceed. My perception heightened, time seemingly decelerating around me. A smile spread across my face as I channeled my ability, their movements sluggish! Their swords misaligned! Naturally, they couldn't be blamed; moments ago, their aim had been accurate. With one dagger drawn, the other free to seize and twist an arm, I maintained time's sluggish flow, carefully directing the blade through an armpit gap, halting precisely before withdrawing. Normal perception resumed.
"Hey," I said nonchalantly, "drop your swords, remove helmets, silence. No need for bloodshed today, correct?"
To my astonishment, the other knight complied! This improved my mood significantly. To hell with the Church, yet I sought no fatalities. These fellows knew the subclavian artery's location; street thugs lacked such knowledge. Typically foolish and prone to ambushes, they consistently failed.
Lifting the masked man's visor, I administered a concoction inducing instant slumber. I disliked these individuals, yet they provided entertaining substances. Unaware of its composition, it proved effective against the other, leaving both unconscious for hours, perhaps stiff but unharmed.
Descending the stairs, discovery of the sleeping duo would occur eventually. Time remained precious; at the base, a corridor lined with locked doors presented itself. Lacking time and inclination to inspect each, I headed straight for the opulent door at its end.
Presumably, a five-pound iron ingot would be concealed there.
Rushing forward, I unlocked the door. Were it unprotected by magic, I'd be astonished, yet at this juncture, triggering defenses mattered little. Pushing it open, I beheld what appeared an altar-like chamber, spacious and grand. Several ornate boxes rested on pedestals, likely containing metal. At the room's opposite end stood a high-ranking Templar knight in white armor edged with red. Damnation! I'd assumed Templars would man the surface during Beehive Rock's passage, leaving none below. Had the Templars grown less fearful of insectoids?
The armored figure turned, my danger sense peaking. Ah, a challenging theft awaited.
"Well, well," a woman's voice, aged yet intriguing, emerged from behind the helmet. "If it isn't Metal Thief Lynn."
"As rumored!" I responded cheerfully, striding in. "Speaking of which, any idea where I might find an iron ingot? Heard you recently acquired one."
"I'm aware," the high-ranking knight replied.
Oh, damnation. A trap.
"Indeed, but does it reside here?" I pressed, maintaining my smile. "Considering your distraction, I'll take it and depart—"
Magic enveloped the air, not targeting me but surrounding me, attempting entrapment? Ha! This woman would regret underestimating me.
Rowan insisted my ability didn't manipulate time but accelerated my perception, elongating fleeting moments into eternity. My speed remained unchanged; body and surroundings slowed equally. Sometimes, the deceleration felt so extreme that blinking seemed an eternity. Moreover, no apparent time limit existed, though it didn't enhance strength, resilience, lightning projection, or world alteration. Yet, I adored this ability! The finest a girl could possess, truly - and vice versa.
Before she completed her spell, I acted. This woman could likely melt half the island, but unless she intended destroying the treasures, she couldn't strike me. Choosing this location for combat proved foolish, advantageous for me. Escaping her trap, I charged.
"The ingot resides here, correct?" I queried, darting between six or seven flame cages. "Isn't it? At least within this building, right?"
"Why do you assume that?" the mage mocked, raising a fire wall around the box I intended to inspect. Rude.
"Such bait remains uncounterfeitable," I replied. "Well, technically, you could, being forged metal, but... you understand."
Channeling another ability into my arm - for I am the best - my hand plunged through the flames, retrieving the box in an instant. I adored this ability too; each rapid movement emitted a cool "bang!"
The mage appeared startled by my audacity, perhaps deeming me insane. Correct, yet not for the reason she believed. Recall time perception? I could assess whether her flames would scorch my hand before insertion (or retract faster). These abilities complemented beautifully, hmm!
Dodging another flame cage, I glimpsed the box's contents - something shiny. Sufficient. It didn't feel as heavy as an ingot, but the mage intentionally held back. I sought only to acquire and flee before incineration. Why assign a fire mage to apprehend me? A kinetic manipulator would've been preferable; those wielding mental powers posed greater challenges than fire mages.
Regardless, others had often advised against questioning such matters. I gladly adhered to their counsel maliciously. Injecting strength into my legs, I dashed toward the exit with the stolen box, flames morphing into spikes around me. By now, they proved easy to evade; she seemed uninterested in halting my departure.
This infuriated me.
At the last moment, I leaped onto the door's adjacent wall, charging back at the "Flame Hand" lady. I desired the box she guarded, purely to vex this self-proclaimed superior Templar knight.
Sensing energy flows, regions primed for flames, magic remained perplexing. Despite Rowan's insistence on my aptitude for magic, I disliked it, always had. Thus, I ensured magical defense - whatever her power, my agility outstripped hers. Post-ability awakening, I'd never lost at rock-paper-scissors.
Because I cheated.
Throwing the metal-containing box toward her anticipated attack path, I seized the rear box - splendid, feeling five pounds - and sprinted out, glancing inside... Ah, perfect, an ingot.
Launching several trinkets provided by those fellows - explosives transforming into smoke upon release - likely ineffective against a high-ranking knight yet harmless here, I ascended the stairs, exiting via my escape route, leaping over foolish obstacles. You tentacle-worshipping fools, dispatch a speedster next time.
Unable to suppress a cheer, I vaulted over the inner city temple's outer wall, drawing immediate attention. Irrelevant; I was Lynn, the formidable Metal Thief. Energized, I swiftly returned to the sewers, safe.
Ah, life! My heart still raced; a misstep could've resulted in severe burns, yet I'd executed flawlessly. Remaining calm post-success, savoring the aftermath while avoiding thoughts of the stolen items' purpose.
Detesting Templars, I almost wished they'd trapped that ingot.