James Silver—now Prince Alaric—had a problem. He was seven years old, and he was currently trying to commit grand larceny against an ancient civilization while his "legal guardian" was screaming his name from the next room.
Treasure room, his old gamer mind supplied instinctively, Or trap room.
Moving carefully, every step carrying a measured amount of caution, Alaric shuffled around splintered foot-boards and crumbling infrastructure. The prince cautiously perused local crates and packaging-only to find them empty save haphazard beds of loose straw, until his eyes beset a medium-length wooden case aboard a table laid alongside one end.
The simple latch gave, revealing the scroll within—somehow lingering despite the threadbare conditions of the crates. Quick retrieval brought the scroll to hand, the system's language recognizing the purpose of this scroll now burned into Alaric's mind.
"Ability Scroll," rasped Alaric, "Evolution."
A bestowed ability. When bound to a Tamer, it allows tamed creatures to grow beyond their natural limits, evolving through accumulated experience.
Alaric went still.
Dawn.
A flash of royal-blue glowing eyes, black hair like night, small hands offering him a carved wooden beast. Dawn Angelique, whose ability was Tamer. Dawn, who the world had already begun to underestimate because she was Lune-bound and female and second-born.
And here, in a hidden store-room beneath his Fief, lay the means to change her destiny.
Alaric swallowed, throat tight. He slid the scroll into his backpack alongside the other tomes. His mind raced with the prospect, what if this scroll was meant to be discovered? Alaric's thoughts drowned out the reality, nearly missing another object adorning the selfsame shelf. A long object lay wrapped in cloth. He peeled it back and revealed a shortsword. Not forged of iron or steel but of a gleaming silver material reminiscent of his entrance into this tower.
Mithral.
The loot was incredible, but the physics were a nightmare.
The Primer of Sphere Magic and Wondrous Implements and the Geometry of Enchantment were heavy while the Evolution Scroll was awkward. And the Mithral Shortsword? It was basically a longsword for someone his height. He had to shove the books into his backpack and tuck the sword into his sash, praying the "Flame" enchantment didn't go off and set his pants on fire.
If I get caught with this, James thought, I'm not just grounded. I'm 'Imperial Investigation' grounded.
And as he maneuvered from the shelf, the mote of light caught something, a flash of metal on a shelf higher than a fully grown adult human. That something, James sensed, was his reason for being here. Alaric stood on tiptoe, fingers grasping and locking about the frame of the case.
Only after nearly pulling the case down upon himself, did Alaric at-last grasp upon the small wood box. Opening it revealed a ring, simple of make with a silver band etched with tiny runes. No gem or flashy crest adorned the ring, it was utilitarian in make.
He didn't have the time to analyze the ring as he had the scroll, and so simply pocketed it.
Outside the store room, voices grew louder along with the sounds of boots on stone, metal scraping, and a harsh whisper of urgency.
"Alaric!" Gina's voice was a whip. She dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands hovering as if she wanted to shake him and hug him at the same time. "You... you absolute..."
"I found things, Gina," Alaric said, trying to keep his voice steady so the sword wouldn't clank against his shins. "Books. For the village. For the school we're going to build."
Gina's eyes went narrow. She wasn't an idiot. She saw the weird angles of the books misshapenly thrown into his backpack. She saw the hilt of the mithral blade.
"Is that a sword?" she whispered, her face going from pale to a very dangerous shade of red.
"It's a... tool," Alaric replied. "For the reconstruction."
Gina let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. She grabbed his wrist—not hard, but with a grip that said you are never leaving my sight again. "Captain," she barked to the knight behind her. "Secure the room. We are leaving. If the Prince breathes too loudly, I want a report on it."
As they were led out of the dark, cool air of the tower and back toward the barrier, Alaric felt the weight of the items pressing against his ribs. He'd survived the ancient tower and he was preparing the return visit.
Now he just had to survive the carriage ride back to camp with a woman who looked like she was about to invent a new way to scold someone.
Worth it, James thought, feeling the silver ring hum against his skin. Definitely worth it.