[Skell]
"Oliver! Wait up!" my hand shot outward.
But excitement had a way of deafening the ears. He blazed down the hill and toward the scattered groups strolling along the main stone road - funneling into the grand bridge connecting to Selem.
Urgh. Why does he always do this?
Niles clasped a hand on my shoulder. "Relax, Purple. We're all heading to the same place."
"This 'place' is the biggest city in Lumerit. We lose him and we'll be playing hide-and-seek in a labyrinth."
"Hmm," he scratched his nose. "I s'ppose this is a little larger than my home village. Well, ready to dive in after him?"
I agreed. But my legs hesitated.
Once we go in, that's it. No leaving until business is dealt with. Inside these humongous walls, an Abyss of a lot more than two Templars operate. Including Amara…
But things are different now. My glamour's perfect, and I know how to stay out of trouble. Mostly. Besides, answers to my past life - and how to reclaim it - are waiting for me to find them. With that on the line, what risk can stop me?
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready," I shook away the jitters. "Let's move."
—————————————————————————————————
"See him up ahead?" I sprinted.
"Nope!" panted Niles. "He's a quick little goblin, eh?"
"Not how I'd describe him, but- crap!"
Further along the main road was a wide, covered wagon, bumping along at a pace that'd frustrate a snail.
Great, gotta go around!
I resigned to the slower route through the golden high-grass. But as I rounded the wagon, my gaze rose to the swordsman, who leapt onto the wagon's bonnet, hopped down to the rider's seat - beside the startled old driver, then balanced precariously across the back of a very confused horse.
What the…
Nearly slipping, Niles swung his arms like a crazed circus performer and caught himself, then jumped back onto the road - right ahead of me.
"Always take shortcuts, Purple!" he flashed a shameless wink as if he didn't almost kiss the pavement.
I stared back at the swordsman, unsure whether to laugh or question his sanity. "That's not the moral."
"Blasted kids!" the driver shook his wrinkled fist at us as he shrank into the distance. "Always in a goshdern hurry!"
"Sorry, gramps!" Niles threw back a wide smile - before we both crashed into something padded and immovable. We hit the ground like two sacks of bricks.
"Ouch…" I massaged my elbow, gazing up at what we ran into: two men, arms folded over their orange gambesons and frowns over their humorless faces.
"That's enough!" rebuked a man whose chin projected even further than his voice. "There is to be no disturbance of the peace within or without the city!"
"Huh?" Niles winced and popped his neck. "Who're you guys?"
"Niles!" I butted in, "They're obviously the city guard."
"Ohhh," he said. "…Is that important?"
"Would you like to visit the gallows, lad?" threatened the other guard, an older man whose eyepatch cut across his face. "Two men charging at our walls is no jesting matter. Anything considered a threat to security is a threat to the city, and threats to the city are dispatched posthaste."
My eyes flicked from his steel chausses and pauldrons to the blade lying inches from his fingers. Shade… these guys are serious!
Niles opened his mouth - probably to say something stupid. I cut him off, more interested in keeping my head. "We completely understand, sirs, we didn't mean to make any trouble. If there's any fine due, we'll pay it in full - no question."
The guards shared a glance. "That won't be necessary," said the older one. "We will demand that you keep yourselves in check while within our great capital. And… to move. You obstruct the road."
Niles and I turned back, finding ourself face-to-face with a puff of horse-breath.
"Blasted kids!" the old driver from before shook his fist at us again. "Always in the goshdern way!"
—————————————————————————————————
"Didn't even notice those orange guys, before," Niles pulled at his gloves.
"Probably because you were too busy doing stunts on a horse." I glared at the swordsman.
"Hey! No one got hurt!" he raised defensive hands. "Wait, what about Freckles? He came running through here too."
I looked ahead, noticing we neared where the stone road ended and the bridge began. "Oliver's fine."
"How do you know?"
"You didn't hear them? While we walked off, big chin complained about 'all these trouble-making kids'. Odds are Oliver got him riled up before we did. Probably got off easier too, young as he is."
Niles was half-focused on cleaning out his ears. "Can't believe you caught that. But if Freckles got warned like us, he must be up ahead."
"Right. Except I don't see his ginger hair anywhere."
"Then we keep moving. With how much we've been slowed down, he's probably in the city by now. But we're bound to find him if we keep our eyes peeled!"
Wish I had that much optimism.
Ultimately, Niles had a point. Continuing forward - at a much slower pace - was our only option. And soon, the grand bridge was before us.
Under the scrutiny of a roaring lion and a spread-winged eagle - two true-to-life statues that flanked the broad approach - we stepped onto the bridge, lined in rows of flapping orange flags. Now, we'd seen people long before that point. Even days back, we came across the occasional friendly traveler or road patrol. But walking along that bridge reminded me what real civilization looked like.
Groups walked ahead and behind us; with us into the city and past us leaving it. Couples rested arms on the stone barriers and let loving gazes reflect in the waters below, while parents lifted toddlers onto their shoulders and pointed their attention toward the Ring cutting across the sky.
As for my eyes? I couldn't keep them off the ground.
Thousands must cross this bridge everyday. So… how is it spotless? These bricks look like they were built yesterday. But that can't be true. My gaze flicked to a passing guard. They don't carry brooms, they carry blades. Abyss, even a rinse of water magic wouldn't keep it this clean.
I'd liked to have written it off as a paranoid observation; a clean bridge didn't exactly spell doom and destruction. Except it wasn't just the bridge.
There's blue, then there's whatever this river is. Feels like I'm looking at a lake of liquid sapphire. No, even gemstones don't shine this deeply. The golden grass in the distance looks less like rich wheat and more like it's made of actual gold, now. And everyone's clothes, skin, eyes, hide, fur - they're all so vivid. Even Niles. I looked down. Even me.
It's like we've walked into a painting…
Maybe I was greedy; most people never received a free set of eyes like I did, but I still wished for more than two. As we neared the capital, each blink captured another flash of vibrancy - unforgettable moments of color.
The swordsman followed a group of birds flying overhead, eyes shadowed by his hand as they led to the cloud-piercing ramparts. "This place is something else. Think anyone ever had the balls to attack it?"
I let my curiosity simmer. By now we stood before the city entrance - a cute hole compared to the grandeur of the sturdy walls. Compared to us, it loomed as a huge arched gate, the steel fangs of the hanging portcullises bared above, ready to drop from both sides and seal off the city at a moment's notice.
High atop the ramparts, guardsmen stood aside a line of trebuchets. Their gaze never strayed from the golden horizon. Security of the bridge was left to those inside the walls, surveying the comers and goers on protruding parapets and behind arrow slits. Crossbows filled the hands of half. Empty gloves made up the other - all the more space to bombard invaders with the elements. Those on the ground were no less harmless. Their eyes darted between everyone. The slightest suspicion, and heads would roll.
"If anyone did have the balls," I said, "they don't anymore."
We stopped at a checkpoint of sorts, where those riding on wheels or horseback were funneled into a queue parallel to those on foot. A noble crossed arms at the head of ours, held up by a handful of guards - though only one of them made a move.
"Scan," incanted the guardswoman. While the others acted as muscle, she moved closer to the noble. Something was off about her face.
I squinted.
No. Her eye…
One was brown. Supremely normal, as eye colors go. But the other glowed a strange shade of yellow, the pupil thinning and stretching into two crossed lines.
With this eye, she inspected the man up and down. "Three gold rounds. Sixty silvers. A locket, empty save for a picture. A vial of ink. Search complete." Her voice directed itself to the noble. "Move along."
"Goodness, at last," he complained, dramatically adjusting his doublet as he moved for the city gate.
"Woah," Niles laughed. "Isn't that some awesome magic?"
Our line shuffled forward. At the front, the guardswoman deactivated her art, then recast it - presumably to ration out mana - once the next visitor came forward: a working woman with a satchel - well-built and tall.
The shorter guardswoman scrutinized her the same way she did the noble. "Thirty-one silver rounds. A bundle of lilacs. A box of chocolates, partially melted. Perfume. A change of clothes. Rope? A scarf… And…"
She looked up at the woman, who's blushing cheeks were twice as red. The guardswoman looked away. "S-search complete. Move along."
The woman moved while the order was still half-spoken, hurrying into the city.
"…Ahem," The guardswoman fumbled for her composure. "Next!"
A storm of calls followed, from jewelry to tools to boring everyday items to… things Niles and I quietly laughed about - even unmentionables didn't pass without mention. That said, the line moved quickly. Not that Niles let any wait longer than a few seconds stop him from tapping his foot ceaselessly. The swordsman only quit fidgeting when he stood next in line to be searched.
"Hey, don't look too hard," he joked.
She didn't laugh. "…Scan."
Her eye warped again. Though I couldn't tell what type of magic Scan was, by then, I was sure of its effects.
Somehow, underneath clothing and inside bags, she could see what belongings those entering and leaving kept on their person. Normal things were probably announced as a formality, but if anything dangerous or illegal was carried into the capital…
The yellow eye probed him. "Two sticks. Five silver rounds. Twelve Coppers." Her other, normal eye blinked. "A shortsword. Quite dull."
"But a weapon nonetheless," stated an older, greying guardswoman.
The first woman nodded. "We have to ask that you relinquish your weapon before entry is permitted."
"Say what?" Niles leaned closer. "This is my trusty sword; I can't give it up!"
Eyes turned to him, most of them the guards'. My mouth became dryer than it already was.
Yet the guardswoman didn't react. "We do not allow weapons to be openly carried inside the walls. It is a violation of the law." She held out a calm hand. "I assure you, it will be kept securely under lock and key."
Niles wanted to argue further - it was in his eyes - but even he had the sense to hesitate. Which said a lot about my own sense. "Th-there has to be some way to let us bring it inside, right? Some sorta exception?"
The older woman came closer, her face a tangle of pent-up wrinkles. "You hold up the queue. If you are not willing to acquiesce to the law, then-"
"I have this under control." The younger woman held up a hand. "Please allow me a little longer."
A vein streamed down her clenched jaw. But she stood aside.
Whew…
"In any case," continued the younger woman, "there are exceptions. However, I'm certain neither of you are Templars, or city guards, or royalty."
Niles shot me a hopeful look. …I'm not a prince, Niles.
She crossed her arms. "And if you carried an armament license, I imagine you would've presented it before this conversation."
"All we need is a license?" I asked.
The guardswoman nodded curtly. "One for open use of weapons and magic not considered necessary by your occupation, or outside the seclusion of your own property." Her explanation sounded like it jumped right off the page of a law book. "But acquiring one is an expensive process. And not one that can be carried out at the gate."
You need permission just to use magic, here? You've gotta be kidding.
Niles glanced at his barren pockets. "I can't afford 'expensive'; I just need my sword so I can take on the Sacred Ordeals."
Her brow raised slightly. "You're applying? That changes things."
"How?" he asked.
"Once one applies for the Sacred Ordeals," she explained, "they are supplied an armament license, free of charge."
"Really!?" Niles' eyes widened. "Honest?"
She summoned her patience. "…State your intent to the Order, then return with the license. We'll be glad to return your sword."
"Well, if I'm getting it right back," he handed over the sheathed sword, "then all right. But don't go missing me; I'll be back," he snapped, "like that!"
Her stare was wooden. "We won't. Search complete, move along."
The swordsman rushed past, barely missing me mouth a silent "sorry" to the woman. He stopped not far ahead. He was waiting for me.
Right. I'm next.
But with the potential incident averted and all eyes on me, I realized something I should've caught a long time back.
If her eye penetrates what lies on the surface, would that mean…?
She recast her art as my bones turned cold. Yet there was nothing I could do. Making a break for it would be the absolute worst move I could make at a heavily-armed checkpoint. And I had to get into the city. But if her art let her see something she shouldn't…
Her gaze climbed up and down my rigid body. "Two small pouches: one thyme, one salt. A hand mirror. And-" she made a subtle stop. Like that of someone holding themselves back from making a scene.
"I-is something wrong…?" I forced my teeth not to chatter.
"No. Not at all," the guardswoman shut her eyes shamefully, then whispered to me. "I was merely surprised to see so many rounds. My apologies." She cleared her throat, returning to her announcements. "Fourteen gold rounds, within a pouch."
She… couldn't tell I'm undead? That I'm wearing a glamour? I pumped an imaginary fist. Good ol' Cynthine - never should've doubted you!
I masked a relieved chuckle. And what I'm carrying, almost forgot it was so much. Shade, if this lady knew these were just crumbs compared to Ansel's real stash…
My joy flipped instantly into concern.
"Search complete. Move alo-"
"Q-quick question," I interrupted, "did a teenager come through here in the last several minutes: brown hair, gap-teeth, spotted like a leopard?"
She gave me an icy look that made my second-hand embarrassment for Niles turn first-hand. "…Yes. I remember him well. He's the only person I've seen all day to walk in with absolutely nothing. Save for an empty backpack."
Empty? That's impossible. Unless… Scan can't see what's inside? The enchantment - it's gotta be! It was like another realm beyond the zipper. Maybe then, just looking through the bag is pointless. Because nothing's actually behind the leather! That's gotta be it-
"Get on already!" yelled someone in the queue.
"Yeah! I'll be late 'cause yer lollygaggin'!" another scowled.
The guardswoman gave a hurrying, if apologetic, glance toward the city gate. "Enjoy your time in the capital."
Weathering a score of impatient glares and burying my conjecture, I gave a quick nod and rushed along. But I couldn't be too bothered. After all, I made it. No more was I the undead trespassing into Sienna Village, or the discernable ex-prisoner from Belza Hill. I was just an "ordinary" man, now - if an annoying one.
I could live with that.
Impressed gloves rested on Niles' waist as I met him under the gate. "Had no idea you bathed in gold, mate."
"It's not my money. I'm just holding onto it."
Well, Oliver said I could spend it, but…
"Nice cover story," he winked. "Now come on, we're not going to stand around and yap when the great Selem calls us inside! Man, I can hear the hustle and bustle from here!"
"It's not a…" I gave up. "Right. Let's not keep the city waiting."
The city, or anything else an enterprising skeleton might find worthwhile…
—————————————————————————————————
To summarize a city would be stupid. I mean, it's a city. A fickle, endlessly varied habitat that could be both charitable and cutthroat in the same building at the same time.
But I had a history - however short - of making choices one might regard as "stupid". So to give it a spin: loud. To me, if Selem could be characterized as anything, it was loud. And not just on the ears.
Color crashed against our eyes like a tsunami against the coast. Sun-soaked and silver was the circular plaza's centerpiece: a proud crowned statue. Rainbows circled his feet, delicate flowers that grew back in seconds even as energetic crowds plucked them to slip into their hair or into the palms of another.
Multi-story hotels sprouted at the corners, covered in inviting colors to beckon weary travelers. Between these, however, three thoroughfares split off. Eye-snatching signage lined them all.
On our right and left were near-limitless shortcuts to poverty: apothecaries and armories, tailors and toy stores, barbers and bakeries and baubles and brandy - each store as striking as flamboyant jewels. Down the straight was another street that, somehow, appeared completely untouched despite the foot traffic. And scattered in the distance, numerous white towers - called beacons by the passerby - jutted over all but the highest buildings, lustrous bridges to the cerulean skyline. Everything looked healthy, pristine, and brand-new.
As if entropy and decay didn't exist.
…This city, its like a fable made real. With this much wonder, Oliver could be anywhere by now. Probably drooling like a dog.
"Listen," I told Niles, "you don't have to help me find Oliver. You still need to get your swor- are you all right?"
When I turned to the swordsman, I couldn't see his face. His gloves covered it, massaging his eyes. "Y-yep. I'm good."
"You don't sound good."
"I am, really." He gave a half-certain nod. "The color's so sharp here, is all. Bright. Even more than on the bridge. Don't get how it doesn't bother anyone else."
Narrow eyes squinted under his hand's shadow. "But I'm a tough guy, Purple. I'm getting used to it already. As for Freckles, I'm all for lending a hand. My sword'll be back like it never left anyway, once I get me a license."
"If you say so…" I said. "Just, let me know if you need help getting around."
"I'm not someone's grandpa! I'm fine." He removed his hand. "See? Argh!"
"Shade, Niles," his squirming was hard not to make fun of. "I wanted to pick up a map. Guess we can spare time for a pair of dimglasses, too."
—————————————————————————————————
The door chime of an emerald-colored store marked our departure.
"Look at this," I held out an unfolding map in front of the crowded street, ignoring the barking dogs and the cacophony of conversation. "Selem's like its own little world. Ten separate districts. All of them their own beast."
"Gimme a second," Niles lifted the dimglasses. He slid the temples over his ears, and his eyes disappeared behind the dark lenses. "Huh, this really does help! All right, so where are we on this map?"
"Here, at the bottom. The 'Gilded Marketplace'."
"Hmm. That plaza from before is basically a dot on this."
"…Yeah. We've a lot of ground to cover. Though, look here. Up ahead there's a market square. Held twice a week - including today. If it takes up this much space, there's probably hundreds of stalls there. Could be something new in every direction."
"You're thinking Freckles is there?"
"It's our best bet," an idea popped into my head. "But some assurance won't hurt."
In agreement, we kept down the straight road and deeper into the Gilded Marketplace. Off the thoroughfare extended smaller, showy streets, and on it were more and more businesses hungrily competing for our attention. The perfect places to make an inquiry.
Dolled-up Rabbitfolk, among other "eye-catchers", stood outside the businesses they advertised. Most shook heads or offered heavy-handed segues into how buying four trousers for the price of three would solve all our problems. But with Niles' affable small talk and my faux-interested glances at the wares behind them, we gathered a few genuine sightings of a starry-eyed hunter. All pointed us in the same direction: the market square.
"Smell that?" Niles sniffed the air. "Smells good."
"Yeah," I did the same, breathing in a load of nothing. "Definitely."
"Market's near, has to be. Won't find variety like this in any old tavern." The swordsman licked his lips.
The map did say we were near the market; here's hoping we find more than lunch.
A little longer in the afternoon sun, and the busy thoroughfare took us to a square devoid of the many comfortable, rooted businesses. Instead, a web of stalls, marquees, and stuffed carts traced the unblemished grounds which, by some miracle, found themselves in orderly alignment.
Vendors bent over their own goods, proclaiming attractive slogans and promising quality you'd never find from the vendor across from them copying the exact same strategy. Below hanging flags that zipped between many-colored roofs wafted a wider selection than Niles and I could've dreamed of. Steaming-hot hiveberry pies and honey-glazed daggerfish trapped Niles in an infinite loop of running to one stall, then the other, then back again, wavering between which delicacy needed tasting first.
After shelling out some silver rounds so Niles wouldn't go hungry, I had to insist our search for Oliver left me no room for an appetite. I felt it a clever excuse. Until I remembered appetites included more than just food.
Fat pouches of countless spices crowded shelves from overhead to ankle-height at a stall near the market's corner. Some resembled the dust of gems. Others were weighty sand in every shade but yellow. The vendor - his build like a pot-bellied mushroom given life - spied my interest and waved me down. I had no choice but to accept. A few "excuse me's" and a "sorry" after bumping into a guy, and I crossed my way there.
I'll be honest: the prices were fishy - he was playing me. I didn't care.
Joliegold? Nutmeg? I cracked a smile. Racine de Sarriette! Add these to some proper ingredients and I could cook up a killer meal! Oliver won't mind if I take a second to stop and shop. He'll be the one eating gourmet once we find him.
I made my selections, heard the price, then fished into my pocket.
My fingers found nothing but lint.
What? Did I put it in the other- My hand dug into the opposite pocket. I felt the map. But not a single round. Or my spices.
Weightlessness hit me in the worst possible way. N-no! I touched them - I touched them just a moment ago, I couldn't have lost them, or misplaced them, and I'd have heard them hit the ground! There's no way to explain it! Except…
I left behind a distracted "goodbye", diving back into the market's river of bodies.
"Rotten window shoppers…" the vendor muttered under his breath.
A pickpocket! My head swiveled like an owl's. Must be the guy from before - bumping into someone and swiping their things is a classic move. Not… sure how I know that, but whatever! Gotta pick him out from the crowd!
I knew which way he went, but only the corner of my eye caught his appearance: pink hair under a coif.
Or was it orange?
I snaked between salivating mouths and wonderstruck stares, figuring he couldn't have gotten far. I was right.
The capped thief traced along the path, eyes stuck to his cheap shoes, not giving the medley of wares or buzzing conversations even a moment's glance. He was trying too hard.
My bones wanted to accuse him, or better yet, tackle him. Sense made a move first.
Gotta be certain. I winced. This is gonna be embarrassing…
"Hey! Everybody!" I yelled as loud as a skeleton could. "Has anyone seen my missing mirror!?"
Conversations cut short. Rounds froze before they could exchange hands. Eyes looked over heads and between goods. All at me. For a silent, awkward moment, I had the undivided attention of everyone in that section of the market.
Except my suspect, who stiffened, then hurried his pace.
Got him.
"Purple!?" Niles ran up to my side as I moved in. "Was looking for you - did you say your mirror's missing?"
I didn't stop. "Not missing. Stolen." I made sure the thief could hear me. Any other time, I'd have melted under the weight of so many eyes. Not then. "You! In the hood! I know you have my mirror and rounds. Hand them over!"
Attention shifted to the thief. A bank of whispers passed through the market. Surprisingly, he stopped, half-turned, and eyed me skittishly from my scowl to my expensive armor. He saw danger, probably more than I could actually boast. For him, the next move was obvious.
For me? I was too pissed to run the numbers.
And that left us with the same decision: take off.
Matching my first step toward the fleeing thief was the ignition of my Shroud. But between us were obstacles: brainless people who didn't know the first thing about getting the heck out of the way. I struggled to weave along the crowd while, a fair distance away, the thief glided through with ease.
"Coming through! Watch out!" announced a voice that kept pace beside me.
"N-Niles?" I blurted.
"Only a thief would bolt when they're called out!" He quickly returned to yelling skyward. His shouting parted the startled crowd like scissors through paper. Nobody, I figured, wanted to be in the way of incoming havoc.
Sharp turns were everywhere but the slender thief couldn't lose us. Peeking back, he found us closer than before and gaining.
He cursed, shooting erratic looks around the market's blurring colors. Further ahead at a stall on our right, his gaze landed.
"Boiled frog legs! Boiled frog legs, I say! Fresh off the bank of Selem River!" called woman barely taller than the bulbous kettle she stood beside, propped up on a holed table. Under it burned a small, continuous flame - magic from her much taller assistant's hand.
The stall was near-empty - as you'd expect - so a customer who wanted a bite of frog legs so badly he'd sprint straight to their kettle was a welcome surprise.
"Oh!" jumped the vendor. "H-how many would you like?"
In a flash the thief hoisted up the entire kettle, nearly spilling some of the sloshing water. "Back off!" he warned.
Anyone who hadn't cleared off before made sure to listen then. Even the vendor and her assistant ran after stifling a gasp. Not that the warning was for them.
We slowed inside a ring of onlookers. The thief held the bubbling, steaming kettle cocked at his side. "I'll do it!"
The swordsman extended a hand to stop me. "Even our Shrouds won't like a dip in that. But wait, I have an idea-"
I barreled past his arm. Steal the gifts from the only two people in the world who give a crap about me? The only ones who care!?
That spineless thief never thought I'd keep chasing. But he mustered a scrap of boldness and twisted his body, flinging at me a scalding torrent. It didn't miss.
White legs bounced off as boiling water drenched me from the nose down. Sheets of steam wafted off my red-hot skin.
And I kept running.
Relief descended into terror in the second before my steaming knuckles met the thief's jaw.
Chalk it up my Shroud's power improving with practice. Or maybe to his guard being down. Didn't matter. The fist thrust him off his feet and dropped him hard, spine on stone. Hurt, but his baffled eyes still fluttered open.
Niles' footsteps stopped behind me. "Are you-"
"I'm fine," I held onto my anger, clutching tight enough that pity couldn't steal it. Never had I punched anyone before. But he was begging for it.
As the vapor clouding me cleared, so did the burns and blisters. Niles lifted his dimglasses a moment. "Huh, you're actually unhurt? Sun above, your Shroud must be something else!"
Yeah, keep believing that. Excuses my regeneration in the steam well enough. Still… that was way too risky - shouldn't have relied on this fake flesh. Cynthine, I'm tired of owing you. Though at least there's something I can do to even things out.
Dripping wet, I moved closer to the fallen thief, the last wisps of steam evaporating off my shoulders. Unobscured, I noticed something: knocked loose from the fall extended the reflective half of something in his pocket.
"My mirror!" the words left my mouth on their own authority. "Give it back!" I growled.
"Okay, okay! Settle down," he raised a surrendering hand, still shrinking back at his pain. With the other, he slowly retrieved the item while darting concerned glances at those watching. Finally out in the open, the hand mirror glistened in the afternoon sun.
"You…" Niles said. "I knew it."
Whatever words those around us spoke, I tuned out. In that moment, my mind was solely on my things. I reached for the thief's hand, and his hand mine. The mirror teased itself onto my fingertips. Then came the heat.
"Stunshock!" incanted the thief, quickly swapping the handle for two pointed fingers. Jagged yellow energy charged up my arm and into me. Electricity.
A yelp cut short hung from my lips. The art crawled the length and width of my entire being in haphazard strokes, arresting jolts of pain that ignored my glamour and seized the bone inside - all in the span of a second.
Forced to my knees, relief finally came when the shock suddenly ended. Of course, when I looked up, the thief had already started running.
"U-ugh…" I groaned, shaking the feeling back into my aching bones.
"He's making a break for it!" Niles pat me hard on the arm. "Can you stand?"
"…Yeah," I staggered to my feet, each movement a little easier than the last. Just wish I wasn't wet when he shocked me. Though at least it didn't leave any damage. Visible damage.
"He used magic?" someone said in the crowd.
"On that poor man?" asked another. "But the law!"
Murmurings grew louder and more widespread. I hated being the center of attention. But I had to focus.
My eyes narrowed. "He's not getting away."
———————————————————————————–—————–
"Two thefts in one week?" panted Niles. "No offense, Purple, but your luck's worth dung!"
"Yeah," I replied, "tell me about it!"
In the lane we ran through, the market thinned. Buildings that once stood in the distance steadily came closer; Niles' shouts weren't even needed to help us drive through the scattered bodies anymore.
He's leading us to the edge of the market…is he trying to leave-
"Ladies and gentlemen - anyone, really! They mayhaps be expensive, but they are worth every round! I promise!" yelled a shaky-voiced vendor in the distance.
Not far past the cowardly thief was his tent, passed by people who seemed to drop an interested glance before fleeing in horror from the price engraved under a pair of boots.
"An enchantment of the finest variety," he claimed, "bestowing the ability to walk on any surface! With an accompanying armament license, you too can-"
He turned to see his presentation table empty. His employed guard, asleep at his chair with a book over his eyes, didn't even wake from the theft.
We blurred past the stall next. "He's not even hiding his slimy hands anymore!" Niles looked back at the ranting vendor. "Those boots cost a…" he gulped. "A fortune!"
"Because he knows he's caught!" my eyes were trained on the chase. "Everyone knows he's a thief now!"
"Then where's he going? Would it be too much to hope he's turning himself in?"
An eye-catching arched exit loomed ahead, a portal to the rest of the cities' high towers and broad buildings. A straight-shot… in the next lane over. And the turn to get there? Absolutely crowded. Whatever was being sold there, it had buyers flocking to it like flies to a rotten melon.
But the pink-haired thief wasn't deterred. Stall after stall blocked him off, except for a long cart that broke the chain.
"Here you go, ma'am!" smiled a man in a green cap. He handed a woman a couple heads of cabbage then waved as she left.
His pleased eyes crashed open when the thief hurried toward him and his produce. Instinct possessed him to hurl himself out of the way as the thief dove over the cart.
I slowed. "What in the…"
"Wind Trap!" he incanted, crouched behind the cart. I couldn't parse exactly how the art worked. What I could see was the upwards burst of green winds, launching the cart - and it's scores of cabbage - overhead.
People screamed and ran, not expecting clear skies to suddenly rain cabbage. But more important was the wooden cart. It reached the apex of it's flight. Then plummeted like an anvil.
In its shadow was the old woman from before, and a little girl - both frozen in fear.
"Crap!" Niles yelled.
Sweat ran down my face. T-they're gonna get…
Niles moved in first, swooping the little girl into his arms and away from the landing zone. Granny, unfortunately, was a little heavier. In a half-tackle, half-lift, I snatched her away from the expanding shadow. Wood crashed violently into the stone just inches behind my back. But thankfully, no one got hurt.
Except me.
"You blackguard!" gummed the granny, pelting me with a cabbage. "How dare you get handsy with the supple hips of an elderly lady!"
I raised defensive arms, more confused than pained. "I-I was trying to-"
"You're very welcome!" Niles tussled the hair of the appreciative girl across from us. "Be good, now! And watch out for falling cabbage!"
She beamed at her savior. "Okay!"
Urgh…
"Niles!" I jogged away from the granny's assault, "we gotta go. Look, he's getting away!"
Turning past where the cart once stood, the thief used the chaos as cover to escape. We crossed into the next lane - treading awkwardly over the field of busted heads… of cabbage, catching the cowering vendor in the corner of our eyes.
He surveyed his goods with absolute devastation. "My cabbages!"
The howl grew steadily quieter as we dashed through the arched entrance into the rest of the city. We didn't expect to find the thief in the middle of the narrow street, standing still.
Hastily he tossed his original boots aside and slipped on the enchanted pair, coursing with veins of glowing green energy.
"Scurry off, already!" he glared. "This haul's mine."
We stood at the ready. Unsure of what he was plotting, I watched him closely. "Good luck keeping it. We're catching you - and this time I won't stop after the first punch."
He laughed, displaying a long-missing tooth. "Yer not seeing me ever again, dolt!"
The thief abruptly took off. We anticipated that.
He ran toward the wall and up the multi-story stone bricks. We didn't anticipate that.
Niles' jaw dropped as his eyes rose. "So those crazy boots are the real deal!?"
I grinded my teeth. "Shade! How are we gonna reach him!?"
It was definitely a sight: a man scaling the side of a building with just his feet - as if the whole world fell to its side and he was the only sane man still on solid ground. I tried to figure a way to follow, but nothing came to mind. He was beyond us.
"Isn't it obvious?" Niles lifted his arm. "We take things to a higher level!"
The thief had already climbed over the edge of the roof. But Niles pointed elsewhere - a smoky chimney atop the same building.
"Vine Cling!" He shouted confidently. A vine slipped past his sleeve and extended into the open air. Racing past the many stones, it cleared the roof and reached for the chimney, looping and latching around it.
"Ready?" he clutched my arm.
"N-Niles!" I warned, "you're breaking the laaauuuuwwww!"
The vine in his grip retracted like rubber, flinging us skyward as air blew my screaming mouth full. I was fifty, no, seventy percent sure we were gonna hurtle into the stone wall and die. But, in what might've been even scarier to think of, Niles seemed to have practice with this.
Our ascent slowed after we shot over the roof's lip. Actually, our landing onto the slanted tiles could almost be called soft.
A couple cracked as my feet hit them. Not great. But worlds away from what the swordsman had just done. "Niles!"
"I know," he grinned. "Quick thinking, right?"
"No!" I nearly pulled my hair out. "Well, sorta - but no! Magic, we can't use that here, remember!?"
His eyes spread wide. "Oh. I… um. I forgot."