The wind howled as Nevan, and his men galloped underneath the dark sky. Clinging to his small leather pouch at his side, he urged his horse to go faster. They had been riding for two days and two nights, stopping only to purchase the parcel in his pouch and trading their exhausted horses for fresh ones. They would reach their destination a few hours after midnight at this rate. A full day earlier than they needed. He cursed his family's choice for moving so far away from the city. Now that his little sister was ill, they needed to travel so far to get the medicine. He had bribed the apothecary for the cure with the small fortune his father had given him. The medication was scarce when compared to the number of people that needed it. "Wait for me, Nalia," he whispered.

He was busy cursing the circumstances when his horse jolted and came to a sudden halt. They were underneath a mountain pass, and he couldn't see why his horse had stopped. One of his men threw a torch forward, the orange light providing them with sight. Wooden carts blocked the road. The sounds of steel scraping against leather rung as his men unsheathed their swords. His men surrounded him, placing him at the center of their formation. It was an ambush. A cloaked figure appeared in front of them. Nevan and his men knew exactly what they were in for. The legend of the noble thief had spread throughout the entire country of Ronan. Nevan had no doubt his entourage was the thief's current target.

"Move or die," Nevan stated. The boy may have been just a child, but the thief felt the edge in his voice. The thief saw the Prima boy as just another spoiled and self-centered brat living on money exploited by the poor. "Put down your weapons, and I will spare your lives. There is no need to fight for corrupt men," the thief spoke in an elegant, feminine voice. She was tall, around the same height as most of Nevan's men. Nevan had absolute trust in the loyalty of his men. These were not men from his family's guard, they were hand-chosen by Nevan himself. Those who committed petty crimes, the wrongfully convicted, people who were seeking a second chance. The thief frowned underneath her red mask at the unwavering sight of the men. 'How much leverage must the Prima family have on these men that they'd refuse to surrender a fight they were about to lose?' she wondered.

"My Lord," Nevan's second spoke, "You should turn back and circle the blockade. We'll deal with her," Nevan turned to look Brada in the eyes and nodded. Brada and the remaining five men readied their swords and loaded crossbows. Nevan rode his horse and galloped. The thief whistled, and a horse appeared from the shadows. The thief climbed on and attempted to give chase but was quickly met by Brada and the rest of the men.

The air, filled with the sound of clashing metal and the screaming of bolts, soon became distant to Nevan. He continued galloping into the starless night. He was only a few hours away when he heard the faint sound of hooves. It was soft but, on this silent night, it sounded like thunderstorms rushing to smite him from the sky. Nevan kept galloping, urging his horse to go faster. The thunderstorm grew louder. Nevan leaned to his left but lost his balance. He and his horse came crashing as he heard the screech of a knife thrown at his back. He reacted just in time, just about dodging the fatal blade, but the sudden movement surprised the horse.

Nevan stood up on his wobbly legs and unsheathed his sword. He was tired and ragged, but his heart thumped. For a moment, the already quiet night grew silent. Only his heartbeat and the sound of the thief stepping off her horse filled the night. The thief swirled her thin sword in circles, and Nevan could see splatters of crimson glistened through the air. "All I ask is the cure, and I'll leave you on your way," the thief spoke. "There's no need to shed blood."

"Not happening," Nevan replied.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nevan saw that his horse had gotten up. He jerked his body and ran to his horse. As he began to ride away, he heard a screech followed by the sound of leather being sliced. He forced his horse to stop. The thief was fast, and she managed to pick up the pouch that had fallen and was already on her way away as soon as Nevan had just begun giving chase.

The thief held the cure close to her, not taking any chances that it might be taken away. Her horse was fast, but she had pushed it to its limit before, and it was now slowing down. The loud crash of hooves and soil was all she could hear. She felt a tremendous force crashing into her, followed by a loud neigh of horses. She was thrown off her horse and slammed hard to the ground. Her armor somewhat padded her fall, but the air inside her lungs still escaped. She heard the sound of boots approaching. She gasped for air as she got up, unsheathing her sword. She could feel blood dripping from her head. The Prima limped and was holding his blade in his off-hand; the other shoulder dislocated

She realized he had crashed his horse straight into hers, and neither of them nor their horses had been unscathed. One of the horses laid on the ground unmoving, while the other still breathed. Her vision was still blurry, and she couldn't make out whose was which. She lifted her blade to block the incoming slash. Her arms felt weak, but she was able to parry the blow. She took the opening, stepped into the Prima's space, and slammed the pommel of her sword on his injured shoulder. The boy screamed in pain but swung again for a second blow. Her body felt weak, and she had only enough strength to block the blade with her gauntlet. Her muscles were losing strength every second that passed. In a moment of frustration, she transmuted tenaga and stabbed through his sword that he lifted to block and into his gut. The soft sound of broken metal falling into the dirt was followed by a bloody gurgle from the boy.

Her eyes widened as she realized what she had done. She did not mean to kill. Black eyes, filled with pain, stared at her. She pulled her sword back, and the boy fell limply to the ground. She turned and limped towards the last living horse, which had risen. "Please, my sister needs it," the boy pleaded softly.

"I’m sure your family could afford another one,” is all she could muster.

“Please, wait….”

The thief climbed onto the remaining horse. The bag still clutched to her side. She kept transmuting tenaga to reinforce her body, the only thing keeping her conscious. Only when she began galloping away did she see the large gash on her upper left thigh. She ripped a part of her cloak and quickly tied the wound tightly. She needed to hurry.

Nevan woke on a makeshift stretcher. Brada and another of his men, Bondi, were carrying him. “How long?” Nevan groaned. The sky was still dark, but a hint of dawn indicated that at least a few hours had passed. His men turned to face him, with expressions that they thought he might have died. The truth was he would have been dead if not for the regeneration stone that Gandra had brought, he would later find out.

“A day and a half, my lord,” Brada answered.

“And the medicine?”

“The thief got away with it.”

“Fuck,” Nevan groaned and covered his eyes. “Horses?”

“We only lost yours,”

“Let’s go on horseback then.”

Nevan’s men moved him from the stretcher and onto horseback. He rode with Brada. Nevan stared at what he now realized was sunset as Brada explained what had happened. “The thief was fast and much more skilled than a thief had any right to be, my lord.” “We found this when we caught up to you,” Brada handed him a sigil. The sigil of a knight of Ronan. “Rina, Thoro, and Dini were injured, but none of their wounds were fatal. We got lucky”.

Nevan stared at the sigil, “No, luck has nothing to do with it.” He saw the large wound on the thief’s thigh when they fought, and it was bleeding like a fountain. The only way she could have continued fighting was by transmuting tenaga. “She’ll pay,” he whispered, “I’ll make sure she pays.”

When they arrived at the Prima family’s summer home, it was already dark. His father had chosen to move here as news of the rampaging disease spread. The disease affected many, especially younger children, and his sister was one of the vulnerable. Bastian greeted them at the gate with a dire expression. His face grew even direr as he saw the state Nevan and his men were in.

“Take me to her,” Nevan said.

“This way, Master Nevan,” Bastian said as he bent down so Nevan could put an arm over his shoulder.

They reached Nalia’s chamber. His father and mother were sitting by Nalia’s bedside. His parents stood up as they saw him approaching. His father was leaning on a chair to keep him upright, his injured leg limiting his movements. Nevan frowned and just shook his head. He looked down, unable to face them. Bastian continued to support him as he entered Nalia’s chamber.

Nalia was lying on her bed, covered in sweat. Her eyes were weak, and dark veins covered her body and up to half her face.

“Nevan?” she called for him weakly as he entered.

Nevan let go of Bastian and knelt by her side. “I failed you,” he spoke softly as his tears fell onto the bedsheet. He buried his face into her bedsheet.

He felt Nalia’s hand pat his head, “What…. Happened…..?” she asked.

“The noble thief stole it?” his voice cracked.

His little sister’s face frowned, and it broke his heart. “Isn’t the noble thief supposed to help people?” she asked weakly. “Why would they do this to me? Everything…. hurts…”

“That’s enough, sweetheart. You need to rest,” their mother spoke, wiping the sweat that had collected on Nalia’s forehead.

“I’m scared,” Nalia cried. “Right now, I… hate… that… thief. What… if…I can’t…find… peace… before… I…,”

“That’s enough,” their father spoke. Their father held Nalia’s hand. “We will be with you, always.”

“I’ll find the thief for you,” Nevan said to Nalia. All heads turned to him. “So don’t worry about it, okay,” Nevan said.

“No…I.. don’t.. want... that.. for… you,” Nalia said.

A knock sounded on the open door. Bastian was outside, staying out of Nalia’s sight. Their father stood with the help of his walking stick and took the vial of light blue liquid from Bastian.

“I’ll do it,” Nevan whispered from behind his father. “Neither you nor mother should see it,” Nevan stretched out a hand. His father handed him the vial. One would expect a father to say no and that the responsibility for such a task must fall onto the parents. But no parent would want to see their child die, or let alone be the cause of it.

“Thank you,” his father whispered.

When they went back into Nalia’s chamber, they found her asleep in their mother’s arms. Their mother was singing a lullaby, one that she used to sing to them both when they were scared from thunderstorms. Donna Donna Donna Donna… Donna Donna Donna Do… She saw the vial Nevan held in his shaky hands. The tears fell freely down his mother’s cheeks. She kissed Nalia on the top of her head, “I will always love you, my sweet Nalia.” Those were similar words Nevan whispered when he was alone with his little sister. The words he muttered over and over as he gently poured the blue liquid down Nalia’s throat and until she stopped breathing and painlessly passed.

“I will always love you, my sweet sister.”

Nevan had ordered Bastian to prepare a fire for Nalia’s cremation, but none of them expected that they needed to prepare another two. They had grieved and cried as a family. Nevan had begged for forgiveness for his failure. “There is nothing to forgive. It wasn’t your fault. We love you always, our Son,” his father and mother had said. Nevan’s parents had stayed by Nalia’s bedside the rest of the night as Nevan made preparations and washed the blood off his body, only to find that his parents had swallowed the blue liquid and passed beside Nalia.

The sun rose, and Nevan stayed, standing beside the ashes of what was his family. ‘Be with her always,’ he thought of what his father had said. A large part of himself found it selfish and hated them for leaving him alone, but a part of him understood and forgave them. He held the sigil that the thief left on his palm. ‘She will pay,’ he thought.

That night, the thief rode onwards on an injured horse. Transmuting tenaga every moment to keep herself conscious. She stared at the bright stars that now filled the sky.