The group stood within a small candlelit room, circling the parchment that sat on its lonesome upon a wooden table. Tycon, Sylaina, Ren, Glahir, and Fayne stood ready, for the time had come. They watched Ren scribble upon the parchment with a quill as they began to discuss the plan to break into Keo's vault that was hidden within his manor. Their expressions were one of intent, consumed by a singular purpose to make sure the plan would succeed. Nobody other than Tycon and Ren knew the true purpose behind the heist but it was clear that the rest of them needed no more motivation, gold was enough.

Tycon couldn't help but feel a pang of slight gnawing guilt for deceiving them, even if it were for the best. The crime was never something he thought he'd find himself involved in, sometimes he felt like a hypocrite. Even if there was something more at stake to justify it. He hoped he wouldn't have to find himself in such a situation again. This was something that had to be done, no matter how bad it made him feel, then again, they were stealing from a man who hoarded the money he had while the rest of the city suffered.

Other than the dire need to acquire the gem, that was the other way he justified what he was about to do, at least just for himself. The other elves, however, had no qualm in taking the gold for themselves and he didn't argue. It was already hard enough convincing them to be non-lethal and he wasn't about to risk disdain within the group by forcing them to relinquish the gold to the city folk.

Ren tapped the quill on the table as he pondered, the room was completely in silence, anticipating the directions of the first act of the plan. His face seemed to suddenly light up as he made a noise and began scribbling on the parchment before him.

"What is it?" Tycon asked as he watched him scribble.

"We're going to have a carriage drop you all off just outside of the wheatfield," Ren pointed to Sylaina with his quill, "You mentioned there was a moat right?"

Sylaina looked as if a thousand memories of the moat flashed within her mind and she frowned then nodded.

"Do we have any crossbows?" Ren asked the three elves, Tycon waited for their answer.

"We've used it once or twice, we prefer bows," Sylaina answered.

Ren nodded and began scribbling again excitedly, "We'll attach a rope to the bolt and fire it into the wall. Since we're doing this at night, the streets will most likely by dead so let's hope it goes unnoticed."

"Okay, so what's next once we're inside?" Fayne asked, folding his arms.

"I'll ride into the city with the cart since I'm a human and wait by the alleyway to collect the cargo" Ren declared, nobody argued.

Ren gave them all a smirk and continued, "Once we're all inside, Fayne will wait by the manor gate distracting the guards. At the same time you," He pointed to Tycon, "Sylaina and Glahir make your way into the sewer with the bombs and blow the wall open."

"This all sounds well and good," Fayne said, "But how are they gonna know I've distracted the guards?"

Ren placed the feather in his mouth and looked to Tycon, "How long do you estimate It'll take to get from the sewer grate to the wall?"

Sylaina and Tycon looked to one another, "Uh, about five minutes roughly," Sylaina replied.

Ren slowly nodded and began scribbling again, "We'll split up at the grate. Sylaina, you mentioned that the grate wasn't too far from the gate to the upper-class district?"

"Yeah," She replied, "Not far of a walk to the gate, it shouldn't take too long."

"Okay, in that case, Fayne will wait before making the distraction."

Fayne leaned in and gazed at the map, the lines of each person's positions already mapped out upon it, "What if something goes wrong?" He said.

Ren shrugged, "We'll improvise. Glahir, I want you ready to collect the bags once you three are in the vault," He studied broad elf for a moment and continued, "I trust you can carry a good amount back?"

"The question is," Glahir replied, gesturing to both Tycon and Sylaina, "Will these two be able to carry much?"

"Probably nowhere near as much as you," Tycon admitted, "But I won't be carrying anything, you need someone able to fight if push comes to shove."

Glahir shrugged, "Makes sense."

"Great," Ren said, the fire of excitement sparking within his eyes, "Remember, don't get greedy! We're not looking for anyone to get killed, nobody at all. Take as much as you can carry but that's it, nothing more. We ride at sunset tomorrow."

For the first time since they arrived, the elves listened to a human give the orders. Tycon didn't know what happened while he was away but he could tell the subtle differences in how the elves treated him. He smiled to himself, he was glad. The plan seemed somewhat shoddy but it was the best they could come up with and with any luck, it'd succeed.

With Ren's final words, everyone turned to leave, all but Ren who continued to look upon the map. He seemed very intent on nothing going wrong, he couldn't imagine the weight that was placed on him. Coming up with the plan on his own, Tycon knew that if anyone were to die, Ren would never forgive himself. He would study every immaculate detail, hoping not to miss anything. That was the man he knew. Smart and dumb all at once, yet, charming and careful all the same. Tycon was lucky to have a friend like him. He dared not disturb him though. Tycon knew Ren would rather be alone so he made himself scarce. He had turned and was about to leave when he felt Sylaina come by his side, her lips moving near his ear.

"Let's talk outside," She whispered. The warmth of her breath on his neck made him flush.

He had no idea what it could be about, judging from her tone, he wasn't in for a scolding and that was enough for him.

"Yeah of course."

The cold darkness of the night enveloped the platforms that sat amongst the trees. Sylaina walked ahead along a gently swaying bridge and toward a distant patio that was filled with benches to sit upon. Her loose white shirt blew in the weak wind and her brown hair was carried along with it. He suddenly felt awkward with the way he was dressed, still wearing the gambeson and coat. He looked more like he was about to head into battle rather than having a late-night talk with a beautiful woman. Sylaina turned to face him as they walked, her feet now stepping backward.

"You ever take off that coat, Tycon?" She asked as if reading his thoughts.

He shrugged, "Only when I sleep."

"Take it off, and the gambeson too. They must weigh a ton."

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "You're not planning to kill me are you?"

"If I was, I would have done it the moment I met you," She laughed.

Her tone was innocent, adorable even. She turned back around and continued on ahead as he watched her from behind. There wasn't much to see from the patio in the darkness but the warmth of the firelight and fresh air was enough to make the trip worth it. He sat on a wooden bench not far from a firepit, letting the warmth seep within his flesh as he stared into the flames, sighing. He felt Sylaina take a seat by his side and watch with him in complete silence for a moment. His mind, like the fire, was ablaze with questions.

"So why did you bring me here?" He asked, still staring into the flames.

She tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to face her, her face glowing orange by the firelight and smiling devilishly. Without a word, she lifted her arm and in her hand was a bottle of wine. She suggestively raised an eyebrow and shook it.

"Take off the damn coat and gambeson first, relax a little. You can be uptight when we're on the job."

"You think I'm uptight?"

Sylaina giggled and popped the cork on the bottle, "A little, but so am I. The difference between us though is that I know when to have fun."

"You must really not know me that well then," He snatched the bottle from her hands and took a large sip, " I'll have you know I'm quite capable of fun."

She snatched the bottle back, grinning, "Then show me."

He removed his coat and subsequently, his gambeson, his short-sleeved white collared undershirt exposed for all to see. Sylaina leaned over toward him and lifted the sleeve, studying his arm intensely.

"How did you get that scar?" She asked as she took a sip and passed the bottle back to Tycon.

He wore the coat so much that he had almost forgotten about the scar entirely. Sliding down the side of his upper arm to the back near his elbow, looking like a snake had crawled under his skin and died. Something he imagined not many women would be attracted to. He never wore the coat out of self-consciousness to hide the scar, just that he felt more comfortable with the extra weight upon him.

"It's quite a story," He said, taking a sip. Sylaina nodded eagerly, her pointy ears twitching and waiting for the tale to begin.

"I was involved in a small guerilla army that was fighting against the oppression of the king of Winters Peak."

"You were there?"

Tycon nodded, continuing, "There was an attack on the camp and many were killed in mere seconds of their arrival. My love, Ambre was hiding within a small tunnel system that was buried beneath the snow. I didn't know that there was an escape tunnel hidden within that she had fled through. Long story short, in an attempt to find and rescue her, I was wounded by the cavalry."

She looked solemn at the mention of Ambre and wide-eyed at the mention of Winters Peak. It was clear to him that she knew somewhat of what happened there, Tycon wasn't particularly interested in elaborating.

"Word traveled that Winters Peak had vanished. Is it true what they say? That a bright blue light appeared and then the city was gone?"

Tycon took another swig of the bottle, "Yeah," He simply admitted, "It's true."

Sylaina opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, Tycon couldn't help but notice.

"What is it?" He asked.

She hesitated again, her words coming out slow and careful as if afraid of Tycon's reaction.

"Ambre," She said softly, "Tell me about her."

A hundred memories flashed within his mind, her blonde hair and glowing ocean eyes. The way she fought with such valiance and passion, yet at the same time being compassionate and warm. His mind had wandered so far elsewhere, he had forgotten just how much he felt for her. He wondered if he'd ever see her again. Sylaina noticed his mixed expression at the mention of her name and frowned.

"It's okay if you don't want to," She said.

"No it's fine," He replied, "We met in the city of Meliora on a job to find an artifact hidden within a tomb."

Sylaina raised her eyebrows, "Sounds profitable."

"If only that were so," He sighed, "The next few months we traveled together and eventually split up."

"Why?"

"I lost a friend and didn't handle it well."

Sylaina wrapped her arm around him and pulled him closer, he could smell the scent of roses wafting from her and the softness of her cheek as she placed her head on his shoulder, passing him the wine. He couldn't help but blush and take a sip of the wine, staring into the fire in silence.

"You still love her don't you?" Sylaina said suddenly, breaking the silence.

He didn't know what to say. He still felt something that was for sure but the two simply couldn't be together. Up until that moment, he was sure he had moved on, clearly, that wasn't quite the case. He was confused, his mind a whirlwind and him being caught in the eye. Any direction he'd take would pull him away.

He was attracted to Sylaina and it was clear that she was flirting with him. He simply didn't know what to do.

"I... Don't know." He said softly, closing his eyes.

He waited for her reaction, expecting her to move away but she didn't shift her position or move in the slightest. Her head remained on his shoulder as they sat together.

"I understand," He felt her jaw move as she spoke, "It seems like you've been through a lot, Tycon. For now, let's enjoy each this moment while it lasts."

With her arm wrapped around him, she turned his head and leaned in, their lips connecting in a sudden kiss. Initially, he recoiled but eventually let it happen. He knew that he wanted it but it was clear that she needed it, the sweet taste of strawberry on her lips veiled his tongue like a blanket, all consumed in an intoxicating moment, their lips moving with each heartbeat.

Tycon felt a sudden rush of guilt slam into the back of his mind and he pulled away. Sylaina frowned and her eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze.

"I'm sorry," She said quickly, "It's the wine...I jus -"

"It's okay," He interrupted, "I shouldn't have either."

"I should go."

"No, don't," He said, "Stay a while longer. It's nice to unwind and I don't want to do it alone."

She didn't listen to him. Embarrassed, she quickly rose from her seat and walked away without another word, leaving the wine with him. Tycon listened to her steps on the hardwood as they faded away.

Tycon watched the sunset through the trees as the rest of the gang were gearing up in preparation for the heist. Sylaina had barely spoken to him since the night before, not even giving him a glance. He hoped that'd she get over it soon, She wasn't one to let something like that compromise the plan but it would certainly make things a little less tense. He didn't want to have to walk on eggshells around her.

Sylaina stood leaning on a pillar just outside of the stable, arms folded and her gaze on the others as they lifted the bombs into the carriage. The mood was one of nervousness, lingering in the air like an impenetrable fog but despite it all, everyone was ready and keen to execute their part of the plan.

Although a lot of it seemed to rely on happenstance, he was confident that they would be able to execute at least half of the plan without a hitch. Tycon knew that there would likely be guards stationed within the manor and once the bombs went off, they'd rush the vault immediately so he was ready for a fight, though he'd rather avoid it entirely.

Glahir let the crate of bombs down with a grunt, wiping sweat from his brow, "Everythings set" He declared.

Tycon made his way over to the carriage, as did Sylaina and climbed aboard. Ren lifted himself into the driver's seat and reached a gloved hand into a nearby pack that hung from the side.

"Everyone, take one of these," He said, passing each one of them a bandana.

"What do we need these for?" Fayne asked.

Ren raised an eyebrow, "Really? C'mon Fayne, you're smarter than that. Do you want your faces plastered over every wall in Sciolyn? Wear them to cover your faces and the hoods to cover your ears."

Fayne looked embarrassed and scratched his head, "Bombs are more my thing. Actual crime, however, is not."

"Let's not waste any time," Sylaina called to them from the back of the carriage, "We wanna get this done as quick as possible."

"Right you are," Ren agreed.

He flicked the reins and off they went, traveling through the rickety terrain of the forest. Riding a horse in was one thing, but a carriage? They'd be lucky if a wheel didn't spin from it and disappear into the shadow of the trees. Fayne sat by Ren's side, holding a torch and lighting the way ahead. Sylaina, Tycon, and Glahir rode in the back keeping an eye out for any sort of trouble, be it monster or otherwise.

They were all equipped lightly, knowing full well that they'd need to make a quick escape, with the exception of Tycon, who was still equipped with his gambeson, coat, and leather gauntlets. He was essentially the sword of the job, the security. He hoped it would remain a precaution rather than a job he'd need to undertake, though things were never simple.

The ride to Halcyon was long and uneventful, the five of them chatting occasionally and reiterating the plan. Tycon kept his gaze to the forest by his side as the clack of the horse's hooves and the squeaking of the rickety carriage filled the silence between words. Despite the boredom of the trip they were at least met with the beauty of the setting sun, watching as the distant crumbling city became nothing but a dark silhouette, looking as if the city itself sucked the light from the world, bringing nightfall with it.

the lights of the city twinkled like stars as they came aflame. Little beacons of purity that still remained within a corrupted shadow. Tycon wrapped his gauntleted hand around the hilt of his sword, squeezing it tightly as the nerves set in. No matter how many monsters or humans he'd killed, that feeling never seemed to cease, always standing above him like a puppeteer of a marionette. He was ready, he was always ready. It was the moments before the motions that were the hardest. Always were and always will be.

He glanced at Sylaina who sat straight, her emerald eyes fixated on the city in the distance. The wind blew her beautiful long brown hair aside, exposing her freckled nose and pointy ears. At that moment he regretted pulling away from that kiss. He felt something, yet he could not place it. A gnawing sense of guilt accompanied those thoughts he had of her.

Now was not the time to fawn over a pretty woman, they were nearing the city and it was time to get ready.

As they reached the wheatfield, Ren turned and leaned over the seat, grinning, "Okay everyone, put on your masks, grab the crossbow and bombs," He paused and winked, "And please, don't fuck it up."