“They have not stolen anything...” said the king with an uncharacteristically pessimistic tone. “That can’t be anything good.”
For the first time in their life, maybe, the king and queen agreed on something. If the thief had the power to get through the traps and radars that were plenty in the castle, then why was nothing stolen? The answer was obvious to everybody: the goal wasn’t to steal anything.
But there were no royals in the palace, so there was no motive for the criminal to attempt an assassination at this time either. All they knew is that they had to be scared.
In an attempt to find out what may have caused that attack, the queen gave an idea.
“What if something has been stolen, but it was so minor that we didn’t notice?” She asked, making an unexpected amount of sense to the king. “But if they truly want to steal something, shouldn’t they go for what they can sell for the best price?”
“That’s assuming that’s their final goal. We can’t know if they needed to get something in particular,” Silver said, steady voice. She was the least scared among her family, possibly even excited about this new development.
‘My current lead is beyond minimal. All I know is that the boy we met might be part of it. How can that help?’
As she was thinking those things, she something that deeply irritated her.
‘Flame Burn!’ She casted in her mind, immediately scorching what she had found to a thousand or more pieces. Her face was beyond angered by that point.
“D-dear?” The king asked, unable to understand why she’d have a fit of rage.
“That thing was magic casted to spy on us,” she explained. “It’s a miracle I could even see it properly, tracking magic wouldn’t have worked.”
As she saw the faces of her family turn from scared to terrorized and angry, she understood that this was a game that her opponents were not playing as a joke. They were dead serious, she could be the same.
‘Alright. Whoever this is, you’re doomed now.’ She laughed to herself, feeling up for the challenge.
What nobody really knew in the kingdom, because of the lack of intel, was that Silver’s magic was at a level of talent where it could hardly be compared, even if only fifteen, with her father’s, him being the king. If there was someone who had nothing to fear in this world, it was her.
-=-
“He has it,” a certain masked blue-haired girl confirmed in the secrecy of a room under the ground that had the particular characteristic of being in a swamp, a place with low magic affinity. No kind of magic could be casted here, which made outside tracking impossible.
“They’re going to be on your tracks decently soon,” Artist reminded from the other side of the room, voice calm but way slower and, maybe, even unprepared.
“Mine? Why?” She asked.
“Think of it. Someone able to cast this kind of spell... the runaway prodigy daughter of a high-ranked noble... they’re going to realize eventually. Then this’ll be a harder job to finish.”
“What do you suggest?”
“For once, tell me: what would you do?” Immediately rebutted Artist.
“Hmm, we have to steal it as soon as possible and hide for some time here.” That was what Poet could come up with, earning a nod from her master.
“Should be good, if you don’t consider that we have a hidden quantity on our hands. For all we know, that princess could be a sadist with extreme magic power. Then, we’d be doomed.” Artist explained, earning only a wide grin from the blue-haired girl.
“If you correct me all the time, why do you even bother asking?”
“It is more than normal that such an answer comes from you, for you were born strong and I was born weak. I have learned to fear my opponents while you haven’t.”
“Do you always have a lesson to explain?”
“Not now,” foolishly answered Artist, jesting with his collaborator.
“Thought so, what you said there was too mainstream for you.”
“I’m ahead of my time,” answered with a hint of sarcasm Artist, on the defensive. “No, but seriously, you love to lie. Just say you don’t like being told off.”
“Then you tell me one thing. If you were to obtain Ler Zan’s Ruins, how would you use it?” She asked, tone and expression showing she was more than curious. She was trying to prove a point.
“If you want it, I don’t mind. I know you will use it to do good things,” Artist proposed, but only earned a sigh from the blue-haired girl that was trying to outsmart him.
“And how do you know? Only two years ago I’d have used it to kill everyone in this world,” Poet answered quickly.
“And twelve years ago you’d have used it as a pacifier. Your point?” He asked, earning a laugh this time.
“At least I know how to use it.” The blue-haired girl finished her train of thought.
“For what regards you, it always seems like you’re never prioritizing your own well-being when you act, only other people’s well being,” Poet proclaimed.
That, often mixed with sympathy and genuine care for the well being of her friend, had always been one of the major points of her critique towards Artist’s actions.
He seemed so personality-less sometimes, like there weren’t things he preferred, when she knew what he was like behind the mask. But, when having to do something, the greater good was always prioritized.
“You talk so highly about freedom and can’t even use it properly? Once the threat of someone undesired having Ler Zan’s Ruins is no longer, I want to see how you use it,” she finished, giving Artist the time to process the monologue she just had.
The ‘if’ had turned to a ‘when’, showing absolute trust in the figure in front of her. The same trust he had when closing an eye towards the fact that she could be the one in possess of the glorious item that gave the power of a thousand people.
“I have an idea about how we can get in,” the male voice spoke for the first time in five minutes.
-=-
Author Note
The latter