Chapter Sixteen

The silence of the nightly lit city of Antalasso Port gnaws. Two dark figures hop between the roofs of buildings away from the guards marching below, standing watch in front of many houses and stores. They blanket the town in silver, exchanging conversations over mead.

"Where do you think the Thieves Guild are going to hit tonight?" A guard asks as he pops a bottle open.

"I don't know. They'll show up eventually," another one replies, downing his cup. "Something always happens."

"Let's go, Cyrus," Marek whispers, then leaps off to a lamppost and then onto a balcony without making a single thud. Cyrus follows just as quietly, and then into the trees, they disappear. Through the trees, there's a manor on top of the hill surrounded by tall iron pike fences. It stands alone and far from the rest of the city. Guards in silver cover the lawn and balconies, surveilling the area.

Cyrus perches in a nearby tree, watching a group of soldiers pass under him. Then he leaps after Marek without making a single rustle. Approaching the tall gate, Cyrus whispers a word under his breath, "Phase." His body becomes intangible and passes through the gate while his companion, Marek, climbs up and flips over the sharp spikes. Then, they rush toward the back of the mansion to a window. Cyrus extends his hand and whispers the same word again, "Phase." His arm travels through the glass like a ghost and finds the latch.

Click.

The window opens, and Cyrus intrudes with a smirk.

Vases, paintings, and jewelry of the highest quality lay in front, glistening in the dark. But Cyrus and Marek ignore them; there is said to be a vault somewhere hidden in the manor where the duke hides all of the riches of Antalasso. These little baubles sitting here can't compare to what the duke is hiding.

Heading for the door, Marek peeks through the keyhole and then signals to Cyrus that the coast is clear. The door softly clicks open, and Cyrus trails behind Marek down the hall to an expansive living room with tapestries all over the walls.

Loud thumps from the other side of the room stop them in their tracks. Cyrus and Marek both dash toward another hall, but they come to a sudden halt with wide eyes.

The back of a guard stands just a few feet away, the silver armor slowly turning toward them.

Cyrus swiftly reaches for a nearby doorknob while holding his breath, allowing for him and Marek to slip through the open crack of the door as fast as a bullet and quiet as a draft.

The thumping sound of the guard stays steady, telling Cyrus he wasn't seen. Then, the footsteps disappear into the distance.

"Are there any more guards coming?" Marek whispers.

"Let me check," Cyrus replies softly. "Night eye." His eyes begin to glow a faint orange color. The walls in front of him disappear and reveal the empty hall. He looks above him, and the ceiling fades as well, showing what's above. He lets out a slight groan. "The halls are empty for now, but there's a ton of guards on the second floor."

"All right, let's tread carefully."

They slip out of the room and toward the flight of stairs. The voices become more apparent the closer they go up.

"Hey, did you see that huge ship at the docks?" A guard asks his comrades.

Marek halts and so does Cyrus.

"You mean the one from the Regalia?"

Marek seems to flinch at the mention of the name. Cyrus nudges Marek, raising an eyebrow at him. His companion shakes his head in response. He shrugs, not worrying about anything except focusing on finding the treasure.

"Yeah, I heard one of their legates is here."

"You think they're here for a peace treaty or something?"

"Nah, this is Antalasso. They're here to trade. If they want to do a peace treaty, they would've gone to the palace and not here at the port."

"Why would they send a legate to come trade?"

"I don't know. As long as I get my coin at the end of the day, I don't care what they do."

The voices of the guards become softer as they patrol the hall, then nothing but silence.

Popping his head out, Cyrus pokes around the second floor. There are no guards. His eyes glow again, and he looks around the area, making the walls and furniture disappear from sight. He freezes. Seeing through one of the rooms, there appears to be a secret passage behind a bookshelf. "There," he whispers.

" Is it the treasure?" asks Marek.

" Possibly. There's a hallway that leads to a staircase behind a bookshelf."

Marek grins from underneath his mask as his eyes scrunch up. "Good. Let's go."

The room is moonlit. There's a massive desk with papers and texts organized. Bookshelves line the back wall. A dark red rug on the floor matches the wallpaper, and paintings of mountains are hung up.

"The passage is behind this shelf." Cyrus points to the case behind the desk.

"How do we get in?"

"Let me go through it. There's a lever behind it." Cyrus whispers the arte, and then his body travels through the rack. It's completely shut from any source of light besides the torches aligned on the cobblestone walls.

Clonk.

The shelf moves back into the wall and then shifts itself to the side. Rushing through the dark passage to a set of stairs leading down, the deeper it goes, the colder it gets. Then, reaching another long hallway until they finally come in front of a wall

"Is this a dead end?" Says Marek.

Cyrus's eyes light up again. Inside, he can see piles upon piles of gold coins all over the room. He gapes at it and smiles widely. "No, this is the vault."

Marek grins. "So this is it. Open it."

"I would if I could, but unfortunately, no matter where I look, there's no lever, no button, or even a keyhole to open this door."

Marek groans. "Looks like we'll have to do it the hard way. How deep are we? You think they're going to hear it?"

Cyrus looks up; the entire manor floats above him like the size of a carriage. It seems safe to blow up the door, but it could vibrate from underneath. "I think so, but we have to be careful here, Marek."

Marek chuckles. "Don't worry. I won't blow the whole room up." He takes out a black blade, silver-edge dagger from his hip; four golden stars are carved on the steel. Marek points the tip toward the door. "Blade Extend."

The short blade of the dagger stretches and shoots like a bullet, piercing the cobblestone vault door.

"Expand."

The dagger's blade spreads slowly, cracking the rocks in the walls. Then, it all crumbles to the ground, revealing the room. Inside, it is dark but dimly lit by the piles of gold coins that lie everywhere, along with various gems, weapons, and paintings.

In the center of the room is a stand, and on top of it is a clear blue orb with red inside, like a fire trapped within a ball of ice.

"That is what we came here for. The Whale Stone!"

"That? What about the coin?"

"Forget about the money. The stone is all we need."

Cyrus leans against a wall and crosses his arms. "What value does that pretty rock have against all of this coin sitting here?"

Marek raises an eyebrow at him. "You don't know? The Whale Stone has the power to summon a guaranteed Five Star Armament, and the Duke of Antalasso keeps it locked up like a trophy. What a waste."

Narrowing his eyes, Cyrus can not care less about a Five Star Armament. His Three Star dagger is already good enough to help him sneak into places; it's money he's after. It's not a new weapon. He shrugs his shoulders. "Never thought you'd be interested in power, Marek. I thought money was what you were always so obsessed about. What made you want that thing?" Cyrus asks as he takes out a bag and starts to stuff it with riches.

Fire ignites from nearby torches like an explosion, revealing Cyrus and Marek's black cloaks. Then the cobblestone hall lights up.

"They placed an alarm underneath the stone! We have to get out of here!"

"Damn it! Run!"

Marek grabs the stone and dashes off into the hall. Cyrus groans and takes as much gold he can get his hands on, then follows right behind Marek out of the vault and back into the office. The sun begins to unravel itself in the sky, lighting the room's colors.

The door bursts open, and dozens of guards are out with their weapons. "Get them!" The windows break as more guards jump in from outside.

"Blade Expand!" Marek's dagger explodes the wall to the next room. "This way!"

Cyrus doesn't hesitate and rushes. He takes out a standard straight sword and his own dagger with dark violet edges, a black blade with purple smoke-like swirls engraved, and three silver stars etched on the brand. "We'll have to fight our way out of this one!"

Marek breaks open the door, allowing for a dash toward the stairs.

"Don't let them escape!" The guards come marching up the stairs and block every hallway.

"Out of my way!" Marek thrusts his dagger in the air. "Blade Extend!" The Armament shoots straight between the guards. "Expand!" Then, the steel edge widens, sending guards on both sides crashing into walls.

"Get the small thief!" Guards line up ahead of Cyrus, ready to swing.

"Phase." The words calmly leave Cyrus's lips as he dashes toward the wall of guards. Swords rain down on him, but they pass through, hitting nothing but the air.

"Our attacks are going through him!?"

Cyrus shifts his foot and slams his sword against the steel armor; the guard falls over and tumbles the group down together. Then, he jumps down the stairs and rushes toward the entrance.

More guards pop out of every hall and staircase like rushing water, flooding the living room with their silver armor.

Marek thrusts his dagger at the doors and blows them away, including some guards.

"We're almost out!" Cyrus yells.

"Blade Extend."

Blood sprays out of Cyrus's gut. His eyes bulge as he stares at his comrade's blade, impaling him.

"I'm sorry, Cyrus, but this is for your own good." Marek's face is hidden behind his mask, and he can't tell what he's expressing besides his piercing gaze at Cyrus. The dagger shortens its blade back to its original size, then he runs off.

Cyrus falls onto the ground, coughing. He lifts his head up with wide eyes at the back of his friend. His body shakes with rage as the grip on his weapons tightens until his hands go numb. "MAREK!"