Azrael crouched behind a stack of empty crates in a small shed. Somewhere on the other side of the wall he knew was Sophie. He’d managed to lose her three times in the past hour and every time so far she’d managed to find him due to him being {Marked by Purity}. It was infuriating!

He wasn’t above killing her, just to get her to stop, but the fight would be difficult he knew. He’d checked using [Lord’s Insight] and she had gained another seven class levels since they had travelled together, leaving her at a total of twenty levels. She’d also gained a class evolution with [Wind Mage] changing to [Wind Walker].

Class levels didn’t directly correspond to strength, but she was a Holy Empire elite and had more class levels that average players. She’d also gained a class evolution, granting her more stats per level. [Wind Walker] also manifested itself during this chase as a seemingly unceasing gust of wind that carried her through the air. It was only through strategic use of [Shadow Step] that allowed him to keep his lead. Pseudo-flying was just straight up cheating. The only upside was that he’d managed to lose most of the Holy Empire guards, elite or otherwise, though the occasional patrol squad still joined in the chase.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t out of the woods, or more accurately the city, yet. Even with the fast paced and chaotic game of hide and seek that the two of them were engaged in, the west wall was fast approaching, cutting off any other chance to flee.

[Void shaping] another hole into the wall would take too long and leave him without mana. Jumping over with [Wind] would become equally as hazardous, as Sophie had the Class advantage in the air and he wasn’t sure what kind of tricks or spells were implanted above the walls. Surely, they would have a countermeasure to flying and digging tunnels in place? And then, even if he managed to escape, there was the lake. He didn’t have anywhere near enough mana to cross the lake and deter any pursuers.

In short, he was royally screwed.

In a desperate ploy to double back unnoticed Azrael slipped into the crowds on the busy road leading to the west gate. The press of people was uncomfortable, but at least they would hide him from searching eyes, even if they knew where to look for him. Briefly he considered hiding in one of the cafes that lined the side of the street, but realised that the streets would probably provide better cover. It was a pity, that cheese and bacon covered pretzel in the last café had looked very good.

Momentarily distracted he bumped into a woman. The flower seller and her basket of flowers fell to the ground. Hurriedly the lady began to pick up her fragile wares from under the feet of uncaring passer-by’s. Even as apologetic as he was Azrael tried to step around her, aware that he didn’t have much time before Sophie found him again. The flower seller suddenly grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“I think we should have a talk” a decidedly smooth male voice said.

Azrael froze in place and slowly turned around. A trap? He looked back at the flower seller. She smiled at him with a smile that was as familiar to him as it was unfamiliar to her face. Her unnaturally blue eyes sparkled with supressed mischief and a promise of surprise.

“Trickster”

It was undoubtably The Trickster, God of Mischief.

“In the flesh” the deity said smiling, before it slipped from his face and he turned to look down at his body “Well, mostly. I’m borrowing this one at the moment.”

Azrael could only look on as the possessed flower seller straightened and dusted herself off. Around them people passed by, seemingly unaware of what was occurring before them. Their voices were muted, as if coming from a far distance.

“Do you have a moment?” asked The Trickster, before answering it himself “Of course you do!”

The mischievous deity dragged Azrael to the café he’d just been eyeing, two cheese and ham pretzels already served on plates at a table. The god bit into one, his eyes rolling in delight. His body positively radiated that sentiment.

“These are good!”

Azrael went to pick up his own, but was interrupted by a sudden question from The Trickster.

“You know what else is good?”

Azrael raised an eyebrow, his hands hovering above the pretzel.

“That statue! Artistry, pure artistry! Oh, the uproar! the entertainment!”

The Trickster looked Azrael dead in the eye his face serious, despite the mischievous glimmer in his eye.

“Did you know that you have over 90% of the guards stationed in this city currently looking for you? Two major squadrons of elite have been called back from their crusades. And at the cathedral! I’m not sure who’s angrier between Purity and her leading follower.” He gave Azrael a shark like smile. “I’m not actually meant to tell you any of that, but you my friend have a talent for trouble and making enemies.”

If possible, his face became even graver, strengthening the contrast to the sparkles dancing in his eyes.

“Which brings us to the crux of the problem. Do you know how long it’s been since you caused your last bit of excitement? Half a year. Half a Year! That’s six whole months! Or twenty-four weeks! That’s 168 days of unevent, or 4,032 hours pure agony. That’s 241,920 minutes with no excitement or entertainment, coming to a total of around 14,515,200 seconds of absolute and utter boredom!”

His gaze bore into Azrael, pleading.

“Do you see the problem here?”

“No. I don’t”

The god pointed his pretzel at Azrael.

“The problem” he said “is that you’re wasting your talent.”

“Isn’t it just that you’re bored?”

“Ye… No!”

“…”

“A little, maybe, but can you blame me? Do you know how it is to be stuck up there, with all the other gods, unable to descend and play pranks on the world below?”

“No? I…”

“Exactly! Even the evil gods currently won’t play around with me.”

“Evil gods?”

Azrael’s question was waved away with a pretzel.

“Irrelevant. What is relevant is that I’m bored and you’re boring. You have a gift for mischief, a poetic soul that speaks to my own. Fortune favours you and misfortune hounds you, followed closely by your enemies. Trickery runs through your veins and chaos in your soul. It’s thrilling! It’s beautiful! Embrace it!”

By now the enthusiastic god was standing, his hands raised in the air, his half-eaten pretzel in one hand. The Trickster sat back down again, suddenly seemingly tired. His eyes flickered between his sparkling blue and the flower seller’s brown.

“It seems my time is up for today.” He said with a sad sort of smile.

Around him Azrael heard random conversations suddenly gaining prominence again as the Trickster’s power faded from the mortal realm. The god gave him a wink as he left.

“Good luck.” he said, departing.

The flower seller’s eyes faded from blue to brown and she suddenly jumped up in distress, seeing her flowers partially trodden on by pedestrians. Azrael, didn’t move from where he sat, looking down at his pretzel thoughtfully.

Would it be that bad to have a bit more fun? To cause mischief? He wasn’t considering doing it just to please a god, but because it was something he had already decided to do for himself. He’d promised his father in his dream to have fun. The only question was how far he should take it. Was he ok with just enjoying the game as it was, or should he try and explore the game for himself? Ever since he’d left his guild, the one before Holy Empire, he’d felt that there had been something missing. He’d had fun back then. It had occasionally been cringeworthy, but definitely fun.

A hand clapped down onto his shoulder and a female voice spoke from behind him.

“Found you”

Azrael turned around to look at Sophie, The Trickster’s parting words suddenly gaining a different meaning.

“Can I eat my pretzel?” He asked hopefully.