The Jewel Thief

3: before dawn

The air was dense. Cahir attempted to pace his scatter of thoughts to his stiff breathing as he walked around the empty streets of Caelum.

The angry merchants had admitted to their helplessness by now, they carried their futile arguments home to lock up for the night. The groups of chatty kitty party women had abated, only a few younger groups were left complaining about their anxious husbands. As the street lights dimmed, bright windows shut to darkness along the aisles of the path. The town was preparing to go back into the same slumber it had been in before the wind.

These people would keep their mouths shut for a loaf of bread, Cahir laughed shrilly in derision at the lowlanders' happy-go-lucky lives. Then, after a moment of consideration, at the cost of my sanity! his simple mockery quickly revised into bitter resentment. Could he say anything? Well, even my own brother won't listen. He kicked a pebble off his path.

No, it would be incorrect to term the footway as his path. His mind actively juggled theories and uncertainties about the possibility of the diadem, but strangely enough the confused lowlanders quietly declared him as "absent minded". Indeed, his feet "absentmindedly" led him along some path to some place, hanging dangerously from the tip of consciousness. No, he didn't know where he was going. He kicked another pebble. There was no path, only pavement.

He looked back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Solim walking behind him. But the street was empty, and the town people had retired into the safety of their homes for the night. He dug his hands into his pockets and walked straight ahead they wouldn't understand anyway he told himself. Solim must've told pa I was going for a walk. Or a breath of fresh air, he knows pa would've wanted me back soon for soup. He walked faster.

It doesn't matter. Even if they did understand, they wouldn't dare do anything about it he realised. The air got colder as he walked further away from the streets, he approached a coarse road. He felt a breeze rush through his dark brown locks of hair, and drew a deep, shuddering breath. They wouldn't dare. Not because they're brainwashed like the rest of them, because of what happened to ma. Or what didn't.

He pressed further upon the grey area

But the diadem could change everything, and Athyn knows it too. That's why she put down such heavy lockdown restrictions. He took a minute to walk carefully through the road's rubble, And Solim- he doesn't know that the runes won't work. I can't ask anyone for help because they'd ask why, and I can't tell anyone because then I'd be imprisoned.

He slowed down. He won't listen to me- no. But there's no way out of this. It doesn't matter whether he listens to me or not.

His spiral of thought came to a halt. He stopped and took a minute to aknowlegde where he was. He'd reached the end; the last few houses of Oryn to his right, and the empire of mountains to his left. The midnight chills brushed his neck softly, he took a deep breath of the open air.

The mountains looked intimidatingly vast, even when he looked as far as he could. It bore mazes of valleys that seemed to be leading to nowhere, and sometimes they didn't. He heard the gushing of a waterfall from a few metres below, truly embracing what the mountains were known for.

Falling. The water fell harshly, collapsing into rigid rocks on the surface below. From there, they flowed into narrow rivers, making their way roughly through steep hills. They meandered as they wandered into the lower lands, until they left the mountains all together. Of course, no one had even seen that, but surely there was land beyond.

Beautiful, Cahir thought.

With a clear head relieved of the night's mayhem, he turned right and walked towards the batch of Oryn's last few houses. He approached a small wooden house and knocked on it. The door opened slowly, and a cautious, wrinkled face peered outside. Cahir was greeted with confusion and bewilderment, but he smiled and said: