《Empire》~Chapter 1 - Desperate~
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Chapter 1 ~ Desperate
A bright colossus of color exploded in the sky, causing children to scream and adults to stare in awe. It was the largest blast so far, and the mages in charge of the spectacle finally cast away their worried faces, rightly so, as mishandling such a complicated spell over such a populated space could quickly end the festivities with even the smallest mistake. Today was the last and final day of the Sarz Empire’s harvest festival, and the emperor had announced that this year’s festivities would spare no expense, and would be the grandest one to date.
Throughout every street in the city’s upper districts, people is their most colorful clothes walked up and down the many crisscrossing streets of the cloud district, reveling in the great food and high spirits, walking from performer to performer. A handful of airships could be spotted in the air, soundlessly making patrols to deter anyone drunk enough to start a fight. Even the thieves and pickpockets stayed quiet this week, knowing full well what fate they would meet if they caught the eye of the peacekeepers.
The empire was thriving more than ever after now that they had claimed more land around their northern borders from the neighboring countries, taking full advantage of the acquired fields and mines that were practically spewing food and riches. Even with their other losses in the war, the empire’s might had proven itself once again, and it’s capital couldn’t find a better way to show it.
Hugging the shadows of the alleyways between streets, a short child was trying his best to remain unseen, but the clothes weren’t helping. He would have preferred to wear his usual black to help him blend into the night, but wearing such colors this week would raise more attention that the gaudy things he was wearing now.
He had resigned himself to fast for the week so that the kids could eat what little he had stockpiled, but his hunger was unbearable now and the food was long gone now. If he didn’t feel like he might keel over at any second, he would never be so reckless. Like the many others, he should be hiding in a hole somewhere, carefully watching the airships fly overhead until the final dawn announced the end of the torment, but he couldn’t wait that long.
He seamlessly blended into the moving crowd, using his long hair to obstruct his face when he could. He began eyeing potential marks, quickly picking apart the wealthy from the poor by paying attention to the expensive bangles and jewelry that the rich took their pride in. One particular group kept his experienced eye though, as a small pack of happy young drunks passed him in the very populated street. While the garments they wore were simple, and their accessories few, the material quality of the clothing was beyond the capabilities of the capital’s seamstresses, and was obviously ordered from one of the artisan city of the South, if not a foreign nation altogether. Importing such expensive clothing for such a short time would be irresponsible for anyone but the very privileged, and the thief inconspicuously turned around to follow what he pegged as a group of merchants’ sons visiting the capital with their parents. They were enjoying the festivities much more than the capital’s own nobility. While the festival was mainly held in the upper districts, the nobles were known not to show their faces in such a rowdy place, opting instead to stay in the Sky District, holding private high-class parties among themselves in their mansions.
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The faceless thief edged closer to the loud group as they swayed their way towards the red light portion of the district, probably intending to wake up the next morning in several bordello beds. He could hear now the individual voices of the group against the roar of the streets. He didn’t care what they were saying at all, but began taking in every detail he could about the group’s members, identifying where each of the men kept their money, who paid the least attention to what they were doing, and how easy he believed it would be to steal from each of his marks. He would only need to steal something of worth to trade for food, so in order to minimize risk, he began targeting a young man no older than 20 at the edge of the group who was stumbling a little more than the others.
Deciding his plan of attack, the thief quickened his pace from behind the group, and took up an excited posture and dumb smile that didn’t reflect the sharp look in his eyes. While his hunger had driven him to this point, he would not be so foolish to let it control him completely. He would do this right, and then leave as quickly and quietly as possible, becoming just another face in the crowd.
As he was now just behind the side of his target, the thief carefully stuck his foot out to the side of him to catch the drunk’s stumbling steps. The drunk, with a look of surprise on his face, ungracefully fell to the ground, bringing another another man down with him to the cobble street as punishment for using each other for support. The thief quickly backed away, as if he was simply reacting to the events in front of him. With the commotion, the other five who turned around to see two of their group on the ground, began laughing hysterically, quickly catching the attention of passerby.
As planned, the thief summoned the most childlike face he could muster and began walking towards the man he had just previously tripped, who was turning around on the ground to face his laughing friends.
“Hey Mister!” the thief said with an innocent tone befitting his appearance, “are you okay?!”. It took an amazing amount of willpower to keep his voice and facial features in line while he was dizzy.
The young man on the ground, just now coming to bearings with his new situation, looked up from where he had fallen to see a young boy no older than twelve holding out a hand to him. The kid had long, fair hair and a kind face that you could trust in an instant. He could also hear the boy saying something, but in his state the soft voice only sounded like murmurs. The hand gesture was easily recognizable even in his fuzzy mind though, so the young man took the help where he could find it. His laughing group of friends around him sure didn’t look like they would be as kind any time soon.
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The child easily pulled the fallen drunk to his feet, showing strength that any sober person would quickly take notice of, but the young man simply got up, said his thanks to the boy, and turned around with an embarrassed expression towards his group, moving forward once again as if it had never happened, completely forgetting the boy.
The boy started to move away as fast as he could from the group as soon as his mark turned around. In his left hand was a silver ring that he had perfectly lifted, and he smiled brightly at the thought of trading it with the stalls all around him.
Looking down at the ring in his hand as if it was his slavation, the boy walked into what he felt like was a wall, and fell down backwards, looking up to see a white-robed figure standing over him. The thief froze, the blood draining from his face as he faced the peacekeeper staring down at him.
“Thief! You are und…” That’s all the boy listened to before he jumped from his seat on the ground and started sprinting away from the mage peacekeepers deep voice, cursing himself for not checking the keeper’s patrols before making his move. Fighting the peacekeeper would not end well, and he knew what would happen if he were caught during the Festival.
Taking in his options, the boy decided that the mage likely wouldn’t use his magic in such a crowded place, so just running through the crowd should be enough to get away from the mage, who would be unable to pursue him once he was out of sight.
The thief never got that far though, as the cobble street broke beneath his feet and grabbed him by the ankles only a second after he jumped. He fell again, this time on his front, his arms barely able to react to shield his face from hitting the stone. He still held the ring in a death grip in his right hand, but he knew that there was no point. His measly magical ability wouldn’t be able to break a peacekeeper’s spell no matter how much he struggled, but he wouldn’t go out without a fight.
He twisted around and looked up at the grinning peacekeeper, putting the little mana he had into an basic mental disorientation spell, hoping to at least confuse the peacekeeper into releasing the spell for even a second.
“[Fool’s Mind]!” He shouted with what air hadn’t been knocked out of his lungs upon hitting the ground. He felt the last of his mana form the spell and he could see the keeper stop his pace, but it was only for a second, and the cobblestone didn’t lose its vice grip.
The thief began to scream curses, unfitting for a child of his appearance, but a snap of the keeper’s fingers locked his mouth, and all he could do was squirm on the ground until the keeper was on top of him.
“How did a thief like you learn magic?” The keeper questioned the violent child who was staring at him with a defiant look. The keeper shrugged. “Oh well, not like you could answer anyway with that silence spell in place. Guess we’ll have to figure that one out later when there aren’t so many eyes watching.”
The keeper’s face turned from a grin to a full sadistic smile, as if enjoying the thought of hurting the child. Fear began to spread across his face. A crowd had begun to circle around the whole event to see what was going on. They probably were enjoying a better show than when the drunk fell.
“Yes! That’s what we were looking for! You probably thought that little spell would buy you some time, huh? Let me show you how it’s really done. [Thought Break].”
The thief’s nonexistent mental defense let the spell take it’s course without resistance, and his mind began spinning. The spell had a lot of mana packed into it, and he could feel his conscience fading, his last grip on the basic illusion spell he had been holding all this time slipping away.
“Well look what we have here…” was the last thing he heard before falling into darkness.
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