Gael’s heart pounded in rhythm with his footsteps as he sprinted across the rooftops of Jesarin. The scent of cinnamon loaves wafted up from the streets below—usually a comfort, but today, it barely registered. Behind him, boots thundered against the tiles, curses flying just as fast. The Pelumian district was infamous among thieves for its treacherous stained-glass rooftops—one misstep here meant a long, sharp drop.


    Gael grinned. The risk, the chase, the wind tearing through his hair—this was freedom. He vaulted over a narrow gap, the glass beneath his feet groaning in protest. Another leap, another rooftop, the city stretching wide beneath him. The guards were persistent, but Jesarin’s skyline was his domain. And he wasn’t about to be caught that easily.


    He squeezed the small gem in his coat pocket, reassuring himself it was still there, then turned to face the guards as he approached a dead end. They were only a few seconds behind now, their faces flushed and their breaths ragged. Gael flashed a smirk and held up the gem, giving it a teasing toss in his hand. "Seems your employer''s got a real soft spot for this little rock, huh?"


    The guards slowed, their eyes darting to the 40-foot drop just a few steps away. One of them raised a hand, his voice calm but edged with threat. "Give it up, lad. Nowhere left to go but down. Give up this little game and we won''t hurt you."


    Gael''s grin widened as they inched closer. "Funny," he said, stepping back toward the edge. "I was just thinking the same thing."


    In one fluid motion, Gael stepped backward off the ledge, the air rushing up around him as he tossed the gem high over the guards'' heads. Their faces twisted in confusion, their attention torn between the plummeting thief and the soaring gem.


    <figure>


    </figure>


    Lukas huffed as he sped around the corner, nearly knocking over a vendor who let out a surprised squeak as their vegetables tumbled into the air. "Sorry—my friend''s about to be murdered!" he shouted, not bothering to look back as he darted forward. His eyes flicked upward, tracking the shifting shadows of Gael and the guards high above. The rooftops of Jesarin were a treacherous maze, their stained-glass panels casting fractured rainbows against the stone below. With every step, Gael''s boots skimmed the slick surface, each landing a gamble between speed and a nasty fall. A shard from a shattered pane crunched beneath his heel, sending a sliver of colored light scattering through the air, crashing to the ground a few feet ahead of Lukas.


    "You better not die on me this time, you piece of shit—you hear me?" Lukas yelled, his voice getting lost in the din of the bustling streets. He skidded around another corner, only to find himself staring at a dead end. His heart sank—until he looked up. High above, he could just make out the faint silhouette of Gael, pressed against the edge of the building. The guards were closing in, their heavy boots scraping against the glass tiles.


    Before Lukas could even think of a plan, he saw it—the unmistakable shift in Gael''s posture, the reckless movements of his body as he stepped off the roof. "Not this shit again," he muttered, already moving.


    Time appeared to stretch as Lukas''s thoughts spiraled. Gael had pulled off reckless moves like this in the past, but familiarity didn''t dull the edge of worry. The alley was tight, crammed with scattered crates and debris, its uneven surface a harsh reminder of the stakes. Lukas''s pulse thundered as his eyes darted across the scene, desperate for a glimpse of where Gael might land—or worse, the grim possibility of failure.


    Lukas barely had time to register the shadow hurtling toward him before the air itself seemed to bend. A sudden burst of wind rattled the shutters beside him, followed by another—each one slowing Gael''s plummet by a fraction. Still too fast. Not enough.


    Then—one last pulse. Gael hit the ground hard, knees buckling just as Lukas lunged forward, catching his arm before they both collapsed outright. "You absolute lunatic," Lukas hissed. "What if that hadn''t worked?"


    Gael exhaled sharply, shaking out his hand as though the effort had left it numb. "Then you''d be scraping me off the stones, wouldn''t you?" He flashed a grin, but Lukas didn''t miss the way his fingers trembled.


    "You know, you''re a lot heavier than you look," Lukas wheezed, his broad shoulders heaving as he shoved Gael off of him. Despite his stocky build, Lukas moved with surprising agility, his light grey eyes glinting with amusement as sweat dripped off his dark cropped hair.


    Gael rolled to his feet, brushing himself off with a few practiced movements. "And you''re softer than you look. Thanks for the save." The two boys clasped hands with a knowing nod.


    "Next time, warn me before you jump," Lukas shot back, though with no real heat in his words. He knew Gael''s reckless confidence was part of what made him so effective—even if it already began to give Lukas gray hairs well before his 15th autumn.


    Before they could catch their breath, the sound of boots hitting the ground nearby made them both freeze. One of the guards had made it down, his face red with exertion and his hand already on the hilt of his sword. Gael''s grin didn''t falter as he tucked the gem in his coat pocket. "I''ll figure out an escape route—you handle him."


    Lukas nodded knowingly, his fists already taut and crackling with faint arcs of lightning. His stocky build shifted into a fighter''s stance, his high cheekbones and wide-set jaw giving him a determined, almost feral look. "Finally, something I''m good at," he muttered, his voice low as a quick incantation rolled off his tongue.


    The guard charged, his blade swinging in a wide arc. Lukas darted to the side in a burst of speed, small arcs of energy flowing across his legs as he easily sidestepped the blow. He jabbed at the guard''s ribs, the lightning sparking on contact and making the man stagger and groan, grabbing at his chest in pain. The guard swung again blindly, but Lukas was already moving, his fists a blur as he landed another quick jab into his ribs. A final, electrified uppercut sent the guard sprawling into the cobblestone, his sword clattering to the ground uselessly a few feet away.


    "Not bad. I would''ve dropped him in two hits, though," Gael said with a wink, already running toward the far wall. His hands ran along the stone, searching for one of the many hidden paths built into so-called "dead ends"—escape routes crafted by local gangs to move unseen through the city.


    Lukas glanced back towards the street only to see the second guard rounding the corner, his face a mask of fury. "Keep dreaming buddy, now find us a way out of here, it looks like we have some more company,." he said, tightening the wrappings around his fists. "I''ll cover your back."


    Gael could only smile. "Sticking to the plan then, are we?"


    "Your plans are the literal worst, but they''ve gotten us this far, I suppose." Lukas muttered, already falling into step behind Gael, his fists raised and crackling with energy.


    The two of them darted through the narrow passage, and down another alleyway, the shouts of the guards fading behind them. Gael''s laughter rang out, bright and reckless, as they disappeared into the labyrinth of Jesarin''s streets, the gem safely tucked away in his pocket.


    <figure>


    </figure>


    Nearly an hour later, out of breath and hearts still racing, Lukas and Gael ducked behind a tattered sheet hanging loosely from the side of a building. Beneath it, hidden from casual view, was a narrow hole just large enough for them to squeeze through. After a few cautious steps down and a tighter squeeze than either boy liked—Gael grumbling about Lukas''s increasingly broad shoulders—they arrived at what their small group of street urchins liked to call their "hideout." In reality, it was little more than a well-hidden hole in the wall, tucked just outside the territory of rival gangs. It wasn''t much, but it was safe—or at least as safe as anything could be in Jesarin.


    The hideout opened into two surprisingly spacious rooms completely sealed off from the building above. Despite their best efforts, the group had yet to find a way up into the main structure, leaving the origins of the space a bit of a mystery.


    The smaller of the two rooms served as their living quarters, a chaotic but cozy nest of mismatched fabrics and personal belongings. Cloth mattresses and pillows of varying colors—some faded, some patched together—were strewn across the floor, creating a haphazard mosaic of comfort. Bags, cloaks, and other small trinkets lay scattered about, each item a testament to the lives of the street urchins who called this place home. The air carried the faint scent of old fabric and the lingering warmth of too many bodies crammed into one space.


    The larger room, where Gael and Lukas now entered, was far more utilitarian. Crudely drawn maps adorned the walls, their edges curling with age. Pins and charcoal marks tracked the movements of rival gangs and potential targets, a visual representation of their precarious existence. In the center of the room stood a single long rectangular desk, its oak surface scarred and stained from years of use. It was cluttered with knives, half-finished gadgets, and stacks of papers covered in scribbled notes and diagrams. The room hummed with purpose, a stark contrast to the lived-in chaos of the sleeping quarters.


    The hideout was unusually quiet. As Gael and Lukas ducked inside, brushing past the threadbare tapestry that served as their door, the low hum of something mechanical filled the space.


    Vess didn''t even look up. She was hunched over a small, pear-sized device on the workbench, her fingers carefully tracing the thin silver runes etched into its surface. The dim light of the hideout flickered across its smooth metal casing, revealing fine, intricate carvings that pulsed faintly with stored energy.


    "Took you long enough," she muttered. "I thought you''d gotten yourselves killed. Again."


    Lukas wiped the sweat from his brow. "Almost. He decided falling off a roof was a solid strategy." motioning towards Gael with a wag of a finger.


    Vess snorted, still focused on the device. "And I assume you just stood there and watched?"


    "I caught him!"


    "Barely," Gael added with a smirk.


    Vess sighed, her fingers pausing over the delicate rune pattern as she finally glanced up. Her sharp gaze swept over them—dirty clothes, scuffed boots, lingering adrenaline in their eyes. Then, she spotted the green gem clutched in Gael''s hand.


    The essence censor was suddenly forgotten.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Wait." She slid off the workbench, stepping closer. "You—you actually pulled it off?" Her voice was hushed, reverent. She reached out, hesitating just before touching the gem. Its eerie glow painted the lines of her face in green light. "Please tell me this isn''t what I think it is."


    Gael flashed a quick grin. "Depends. If you think we just swiped a rare artifact from the all-powerful Madam Ores, then congrats—you''re officially sharper than her guards." He shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "They''re not going to be thrilled when they realize I tossed them a fake."


    Vess exhaled sharply, her fingers pressing into her temples. "You just stole from the most dangerous woman in Jesarin." She drew a slow breath, her head shaking in disbelief. "And she doesn''t rely on common guards. Those were likely hired by the seller. If her real knight had been there, you''d both be dead."


    Gael raised an eyebrow. "Just how rich is this lady? I didn''t know people could afford to hire a Magi-Knight.”


    Vess just rolled her eyes. “Oh she''s rich alright, and I''ve seen what her knight can do first hand, don''t underestimate him.”


    Lukas snorted, flexing his fingers as he unwound the bloody wraps binding his fists.


    Gael''s grin faltered for a moment, but he recovered with a shrug. "Well, lucky for us, he wasn''t there. And if he shows up, we''ll handle him like we handle everything else—"


    "By punching him, taking his shit, and running away?" Lukas cut in, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.


    "I was going to say with the style and grace of the Traveler himself," Gael shot back, his grin widening. "But yeah, your plan works too."


    Vess groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You both are incredibly efficient at getting on my nerves." Her tone was sharp, but her gaze lingered on the gem a bit longer than Gael would have liked. Vess didn''t scare easily—in fact, he''d only seen her truly frightened once in the three years they''d known each other, but today she looked genuinely frightened.


    Vess stepped closer to the gem, her dark amber eyes narrowing as she studied it. Her movements were deliberate, almost predatory, as she circled the artifact. The oversized black jumper she wore hung loosely on her slender frame, swaying slightly with each step. Her jet-black hair, straight and smooth, brushed against her cheeks as she tilted her head, the faint glow of essence burns along her left side flickering in response to the gem''s eerie light.


    The gem sat heavy in Gael''s palm, its weight unnatural for its size. Deep within its glassy surface, swirling veins of emerald light pulsed and coiled like something alive was swimming through the stone. When the lamplight struck it just right, the glow didn''t just reflect—it shifted. Vess reached out but hesitated, her fingers hovering just above its surface. The air around it felt... charged.


    For a moment, the room was still except for the faint hum of the essence censor still lying on the workbench. Then Vess let out a low whistle, breaking the silence. "Do you two have any idea how much trouble you''ve just brought down on us if they find you with this?" she asked, though there was a hint of admiration in her voice. "This isn''t just some power source. This is... this is dangerous."


    Gael grinned, his usual confidence worn like a trusty cloak. He leaned casually against the table, his shoulder-length brown hair—slightly curly and tousled from the chase—falling into his deep green eyes. He brushed it back with a quick motion. "Dangerous is what we do best," he said, his bushy eyebrows lifting in a playful challenge. "Plus, you did say that censor thing needed a power supply."


    Vess simply rolled her eyes, her expression torn between frustration and reluctant agreement. "I didn''t mean this," she said, gesturing to the gem. "I''m not even sure what this thing does, forget about it powering anything" She reached out, her fingers hovering just above the gem as if afraid to touch it. "Did you two find out anything about it before you lifted it from the seller?"


    Lukas shrugged, his face unreadable. "We know it''s valuable. And we know it contains a shit-ton of essence. That''s enough."


    Vess let out a short, humorless laugh. "Well, that settles it—Lukas is officially in charge of all our heists. Under his expert leadership, we''ll never run out of essence-dense objects to nearly die over!"


    Lukas shot her a sour look, but Gael barked out a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. "A true visionary!" he declared, grinning. That, finally, stole a reluctant smile out of Lukas.


    "You know what they say about essence-dense objects, don''t you?" Gael waggled his eyebrows, glancing between them for a reaction,. only to be met with silence.


    He sighed, waving his hands in defeat. "Fine! You two are no fun. It''s all yours, Vess." Tossing the gem towards the girl, who very quickly grabbed it out of the air with a concerned look on her face.


    "Do whatever you have to do to understand that thing, Vess—let''s see if this rock was actually worth all the trouble it caused us."


    <figure>


    </figure>


    Problem-solving had always been Vanessa''s gift—and her joy. As a child, she''d spent hours hunched over the intricate puzzles her father brought back from his travels across the realms, her small fingers tracing the grooves and edges until the solution clicked into place. Now, as the faint pulse of the gem warmed her palms, she couldn''t help but miss the simplicity of those days.


    The gem glimmered faintly in the dim light, its surface etched with carvings that seemed to shift under her gaze. Vess turned it over slowly, her fingers brushing against the grooves, each one a whisper of something ancient and powerful. The air around it seemed to hum, a low, steady vibration that resonated in her chest.


    Gael and Lukas lingered nearby, their usual banter replaced by an uncharacteristic silence. Gael shifted his weight from foot to foot, his arms crossed, while Lukas leaned forward, his sharp eyes darting between Vess and the gem. Their quiet tension was familiar—it always appeared when they needed her to figure out something they couldn''t.


    Time slipped away as she studied the artifact. The carvings spiraled inward like the roots of a great tree, their patterns too precise to be the work of any modern gem cutter. The gem''s pulse quickened faintly under her touch, as if responding to her scrutiny. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of its energy guide her thoughts. It wasn''t just a gem. It was something alive, something old. But what?


    Her eyes flicked to the useless censor she''d been tinkering with earlier, its runes dull and lifeless. On a whim, she placed the gem near it, holding her breath. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, like a spark catching flame, the runes flared to life, their faint glow spreading across the metal surface in a web of light. The air around the censor seemed to ripple, as if stirred by an invisible breeze. Vess blinked, her mind racing. The runes. The gem really was supplying the essence the runes needed to power the censor, but how? That shouldn''t be possible...


    Gael let out a low whistle, breaking the silence. "Well, will you look at that? It is a power source, after all."


    Lukas, ever the pragmatist, was already moving. He snatched the only other rune-etched object they had—a small handheld lighter Vess often used, its fire runes rendering it useless to the others.


    He thrust it toward her, his expression a mix of curiosity and impatience. "Here. Let''s see what else this thing can do."


    Vess hesitated, her fingers tightening around the gem. The lighter felt heavy in her other hand, its familiar weight suddenly foreign. She glanced at Gael and Lukas, their expectant faces lit by the censor''s faint glow. How could she explain something she barely understood herself? The gem hummed softly in her grip, as if urging her forward. Taking a deep breath, she brought the gem closer to the lighter, bracing herself for...


    Nothing.


    The lighter sat inert, its runes dark and lifeless. Only when Vess willed a flicker of her own essence into the device did it sputter to life, its gears clicking and whirring as a steady flame erupted from the top.


    "Well that was a let down," Lukas said, scratching his head lazily.


    "Air runes," Gael interjected, sounding very proud of himself. "It only supplies air essence. That''s why it works for the censor but not for the lighter." He crossed his arms, looking far too pleased with himself.


    "Correct," Vess said, her gaze lingering on the gem. "And it didn''t just power the censer—it lit up all nine runes in under a second. That''s a massive amount of essence, enough to keep it running at full capacity for..." She trailed off, her eyes widening as the realization hit her. The censor had been glowing steadily for over three minutes now, its runes still bright and unwavering. The implications of what they were holding began to sink in, sending a shiver down her spine. An artifact like this didn''t just change the game—it rewrote the rules entirely.


    "This thing''s a damn miracle," Gael muttered, his voice tinged with awe.


    Before they could celebrate further, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance. Lander ducked into the hideout, his face flushed and his chest heaving from running. "What the hell is going on in here?" he demanded, his eyes widening as they landed on the glowing gem and the fully powered censer. "Is that—?"


    "Yep," Gael said, his grin stretching ear to ear. "We''ve got ourselves a power source."


    Vess quickly filled Lander in, her words tumbling out faster than usual as she explained what they''d discovered. Even as she spoke, her own excitement didn''t wane. What they had here could make them wealthy beyond their wildest dreams—a fact she was sure had crossed each of their minds at least once in the past hour.


    "This changes everything," Lander said, his voice low and tinged with awe. "If we can figure out how to harness this properly—"


    "We''ll be unstoppable," Gael finished, his grin widening.


    "I was going to say richer than a warlord," Lukas interjected, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "But please, do explain how this thing makes us unstoppable."


    Gael''s eyes sparkled as he turned to face Lukas. "Powering runes is fine, sure. Find the right buyer, and we''re set for life— Pelumian villas and all. But imagine an air magi with infinite essence at their disposal. That''s not just wealth. That''s power." He paused, his gaze drifting back to the gem, its twisting energies pulling him in like a moth to a flame.


    A sly smile spread across his face, the kind that usually meant trouble. "And wouldn''t you know it? I just happen to know the perfect guy for the job."


    <figure>


    </figure>


    Gael peeked out from behind the tattered sheet, scanning the alley for unwanted eyes. The street was eerily quiet, the usual hum of the city replaced by an unsettling stillness. Even the air felt heavier, as if the shadows themselves were holding their breath. He shook off the feeling, paranoia wouldn''t get them anywhere.


    "Coast is clear," he whispered, motioning for the others to follow. But as he stepped into the alley, a faint metallic clink echoed from the darkness ahead. He froze, his hand instinctively going to the gem in his pocket. "Did you hear that?"


    Lukas shrugged. "It''s probably nothing, let''s get moving before someone actually does show up."


    "Good advice."


    The voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. The air shifted—a prickle at the back of Gael''s neck, a warning he''d learned not to ignore. He turned, but it was too late. A massive figure stepped out of the shadows, armor gleaming in the moonlight. Before any of them could react, the knight''s gauntleted fist connected with Lukas''s chest, sending him crashing into the alley wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him as he slumped to the ground, dazed.


    Gael reacted instantly, one hand flying up, the other clutching the gem in his coat pocket. The air around him surged, rippling with energy as a shockwave erupted, sending loose debris flying. But the knight barely flinched. The concentrated blast of air washed over his polished armor before flicking his sword, redirecting the force into the alley wall, sending dust flying into the air. The rebound hit Gael like a hammer, throwing him back ten feet. He hit the ground hard, his vision swimming, the taste of copper fresh in his mouth.


    "Oh, good. You have the Catalyst on you." The man approached Gael casually, as if he were on an evening stroll. By the time he reached down and plucked the gem from Gael''s pocket, Vess was already squeezing the rune-etched lighter from before, pouring her essence into it. The runes lit up a bright crimson, and the air around her began to shimmer faintly.


    The knight let out a surprised whistle, pressing his heavy metal sabaton into Gael''s chest, causing him to cough and struggle under the weight.


    Vess let out a wild scream, her hands igniting with raw fire. "Falorn Hirath!" she shouted, her voice dripping with resolve. A torrent of flames came pouring out of the lighter, wrapping around her hand, and pouring towards the knight. Infuriatingly he seemed completely unphased by the jet of flames shooting at his face. In a calm, low voice, he simply repeated her incantation backward.


    "Htarih Nrolaf."


    The fire sputtered in her outstretched hand, then dissolved into black-tinged nothingness. She dropped to her knees, gasping, before collapsing onto her stomach, her fists clenched in frustration.


    "Essence withdrawal isn''t very fun is it?" The knight flexed his gauntlet as specks of shadow dripped off his hand, floating upwards towards the sky before dissolving.


    Lukas struggled to his feet, finally catching his breath enough to move. He was clearly favoring one side, but he inched toward the knight anyway, hands raised in his usual brawler''s stance.


    The knight appraised Lukas for a moment before giving a slight nod, challenging him forward.


    And that''s exactly what the idiot did. Without a second thought, Lukas rushed the knight wearing full rune-plate, a grin plastered across his face. It might have been inspiring—if Gael hadn''t been too busy trying to figure out how to breathe again, each inhale catching in his throat like a trapped bird.


    The knight shifted his stance slightly, his foot still planted firmly on Gael''s chest, as Lukas''s wild swing missed entirely, sending him stumbling forward. With almost casual precision, the knight brought the hilt of his sword down in a swift arc, catching Lukas across the temple, causing him to crumple mid-step, his momentum carrying him into a heap next to Vess.


    "Well," the knight said, turning to face them, his voice carrying a tone of reluctance. "You''re full of surprises, I''ll give you that.”


    He crouched down, his armored knees creaking, and tilted his head as he studied Gael, Vess, and Lukas. Gael was still struggling to breathe under the weight of the knight''s boot, Vess was sprawled on the ground, her fingers twitching weakly, and Lukas was out cold. The knight sighed, as if the whole situation were mildly inconvenient.


    "Here''s the deal," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You three come with me now, and I''ll take you to Madam Ores. She''s always looking for... talent. And you''ve got just enough of it to make her curious. Or—" He shrugged, standing back up and resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "You can try your luck with me again."


    Gael coughed, his voice rasping as he managed to choke out, "Not much of a choice, is it?"


    "It''s more than you deserve. Now, get up. If you can walk, follow. If not..." He gestured vaguely to the dark alley around them. "Let''s just say I wouldn''t recommend staying here."


    Vess groaned, pushing herself up onto her elbows. Her arms trembled, but she managed to sit upright, her fiery glare fixed on the knight. "You''re not exactly selling this," she muttered.


    "I''m not here to sell it," the knight replied, his tone dry. "I''m here to return the artifact and apprehend the thieves, that''s it."


    Before Gael could even check on Lukas, the knight had already scooped him up, slinging him over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Lukas''s head lolled, a thin trail of drool dripping onto the knight''s shoulder plate.


    Gael had heard stories about the enhanced strength and agility knights gained from their rune-plate, but seeing it in action was something else entirely. The man moved with the speed and precision of a duelist, yet he carried Lukas''s dead weight as if it were nothing. It was such an unnatural combination, and yet Gael struggled to look away, his fascination winning out over his fear.


    The knight watched them with an unreadable expression, then turned and began walking down the alley, his heavy footsteps echoing in the silence. "Keep up," he called over his shoulder. "Madam Ores doesn''t like to be kept waiting."