Arcanium Veilstone

Sylas

I slip in through the crack of the door at the front of the tavern, light from the sunset outside breaking through the darkness of the interior. Flames flicker on top of brightly lit torches and they dance in the air as the people dance on the crowded floor. Music filters through from one corner of the tavern as a band plays loudly. People are laughing and dancing with tankards of ale in their hands. It spills over the lips of the cups as they cheer to whoever it seems can be the loudest.

My eyes rake over the floor as I retreat to a quiet corner that is empty except for an old table covered in empty tankards and cups. I bump it and the metal clashes against each other but it doesn't disturb any of the drunken patrons around. That's good. A thief is no good if every move they make is observed. I let my eyes wander around the room as I search for coin pouches overflowing and people too drunk to notice if there's is to go missing.

I've been in and out of this life since I was a child. My parents used to bring me to places like this to teach me the skill of pickpocketing. I was seven years old and stealing from grown men who were triple my size. At such an age I stood out against the typical tavern crowd and I was easily noticed. Men would hold me up by my arm or my throat and against a wall as they shook me loose of stolen goods. Those that I did manage to get away with would quickly notice when their jewelry and coins fell from my pockets. My parents never helped when this happened. They said that it was the consequence of being caught. Thieves don't get caught.

A lot has changed in twenty years and I am a lot different now. I don't get caught now, well except for a few times. Those times don't count though. I was just as drunk as some of the patrons around me right now and a drunk thief is as good as a caught thief. I don't get caught anymore unless it leads to a bigger score like that time I ended up in a village jail and walked away from there with more coin than I could easily carry.

I've gotten pretty good over the years at picking an easy score and seeing those who are too guarded to worry about. My eyes scan over the ground, the music from the band at the front thrumming through my chest with each breath I pull in. It's making it hard to focus.

People surround the tables and bar top and I let my eyes dance back over the crowd. I've already found a few easy marks and once they get a little more comfortable I'll make my move. My eyes catch onto a girl who is seated in the opposite of the room as me, thick black hair pulled into braids behind her head and out of the way, she flips through a book. A book. She's brought a book to a tavern. Can't say I've seen many people do that before.

I watch her for a few minutes, eyes lingering on her dark and clear skin that gleams under the poor lighting of the tavern's torches. Undeniably she's beautiful but it's the book in front of her that is catching most of my interest. Why would one bring a book to a crowded tavern? One where thieves like me come to play . Perhaps she doesn't know this and I guess it falls upon me to teach such a naive soul about the dangers of the world.

For a few minutes, I sit and watch with a smirk playing on my lips. I don't think she's noticed me quite yet and I'll take that as a good thing. She's not my usual type of target. Her muscles seem tense even from over here in the dim light. There's a sword strapped to her hip that hands around the edge of the wooden chair. She's not a typical tavern patron. She's not rowdy and drunk like the rest of them.

It only takes a few minutes before my chance to strike becomes available. I let the music pull me towards her table. It's empty now. She's gone to the bartop or the toilet room. I'm not sure which and I am not bothered enough to care. As long as her table is empty and she's not in sight I can slip in unnoticed and slip away without bother.

My hands wrap around the splayed-open thick leather cover. It's rough in my hands and heavy. The page it's open to is a drawing of a pink crystal. It's floating in the center of the page. I recognize this crystal. I've seen it before somewhere. My fingers trace over the rough and worn paper. There are words along the edges but it's a language I've never heard or seen before. All words with letters that look like they don't belong.

Who is this girl? What is she studying?

I feel the familiar touch of a blade against the underside of my chin and my body freezes. The tip of the blade pokes into the sensitive flesh and as I swallow what little spit is in my mouth my Adam's apple bobs against the metal. Sword. She has a sword. How could I forget the sword stuck to her hip?

"What do you want?" Her voice is steady and low, and eerily loud against the noise behind us.

"I was just looking at the book. You brought a book to a tavern at night, thought it work the glance over," I explain. I release the book from my grip and the cover slaps against the worn wood of the table.

"Find everything you're looking for?" She asks, eyes boring into the side of my skull as her sword tips upward. I hiss as the feeling of it poking more into my skin. She's going to cut me.

"That stone, I know it. What is it?" I ask. I can feel the hesitation on her part as the sword drops just for a second. It doesn't last long though and is back to pressing even harder against my skin. I can feel a drop of blood run down my neck.

She tips the sword back and secures it at her hip again. "I don't know but I'm on a quest to find out. All I know is that is of magical origins." She's not lying, at least I don't think she is. Her tone is steady and from what I can see she isn't as tense now. Her arms hang lightly at her side except for the hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "How do you know the stone? Have you seen it before?"

Seen it is an understatement. There's a potion of it I think currently burning a hole in the pocket of my bag at a barn down the road. It's a powerful source of magic that I have never encountered anywhere else. Maybe she knows more about it than she's letting on.

"Is it magical? What can it do?" I pause, staring at the image of the pink and diamond-shaped stone. "Can it kill people?"

She opens her mouth for a second then shuts it like she can't think of what to answer. I know it's not a typically asked question about random objects but I've seen the destruction it can cause. It wiped out my entire village. Everyone except me. She doesn't say anything else, just stares down at the open pages of the book.

I hear a sigh from beside me. "I don't know. I don't know much about it so I was hoping to find someone that does. I'm headed to Astraylm in the morning because if anyone knows anything about it they will be there." I nod my head. She's not wrong but I doubt the people of Astraylm will want to talk to her. They aren't fond of outsiders.

"They won't talk to you. You're an outsider and that is their least favorite thing," I explain. I know a few people in Astaylm who might be able to tell me something if I wanted. This isn't what I want to use my favors for but maybe I can find out more about this stone. Maybe I can get my family back, get my love back. "Meet me at the barn down the street at sun up. I know some people there and they'll talk to me. We'll leave together."

"What's in it for you?" She asks, closing the book on the table and picking it up. " I meet her eyes. They're golden under the flames of the torches. "You're a thief, aren't you? What's in it for you? That stone is mine."

"I want information." It's not a complete lie but it's enough of the truth to satisfy her I bet. You learn pretty early in the life of a thief just how much you can safely give away without compromising yourself.

She hums in response and the conversation is dropped. I smile nicely and head back to the corner I came from. Now that she knows I'm a thief that drops her as a target but it doesn't drop anyone else. I came here with a purpose and I will fulfill that purpose. She retreats towards the entrance to the inn. I guess I know where she's staying tonight.

I have to say that the temptation to follow her and figure out her room so I can take another look at that book is strong. I don't move from this corner though. I let her go and I stay here.