The heavy air of the Silver Chalice was thick with smoke and perfume. Laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional murmur of coins punctuated the low hum of conversation.
Raven adjusted her hood, crouched low beside Kieran and Liora. Her heart pounded with anticipation. "Stay sharp," she whispered. "Eyes open, ears open, and follow my lead."
At the far end of the room, the arms dealer lounged behind a crate of Viperbolts, a crude grin on his face. "I don't like strangers poking around my wares," he growled, voice low and rough.
Arnault, cloaked and unassuming as a foreign merchant, stepped forward, Kael beside him. "We're interested in a small purchase," he said carefully, measuring every word. "Nothing unusual. Just enough for a fair profit."
The dealer's eyes narrowed. "A small purchase? You don't look like merchants who've seen a crossbow before."
Raven, watching from the shadows, stiffened. She had to keep calm — if the merchant pressed too far, the deal could blow.
"Perhaps we are," Arnault replied smoothly, "but some of us appreciate quality craftsmanship."
Raven suppressed a grin. He had poise — something most strangers lacked. But she didn't have time to admire. She had a crate to secure.
The dealer's guard shifted, fingers twitching toward their blades. "How much you got?" he demanded.
Arnault produced a small pouch of coins. "Enough." His eyes flicked to the boy-disguised figure — Raven — calculating, alert.
Raven subtly shifted. Kieran and Liora were ready. They just needed the right moment.
The dealer smirked, exposing yellowed teeth. "You're bold, little merchant. I'll tell you what. If you want these, you need to show me serious coin. And loyalty."
Arnault leaned forward. "We value fairness, not threats. You'll profit more by selling to us than by chasing shadows."
Something in the dealer's eyes changed. Suspicion. Rage. And at that moment, Raven knew — the deal had failed.
"Now!" she hissed to her friends.
Kieran moved first, shoving the crate of Viperbolts onto a small, hidden rolling cart. Liora kicked over a tray of glasses, the noise drawing all attention. Raven seized the crate handles, straining with the weight.
"Thieves!" the dealer roared. "Grab them!"
Arnault reacted instantly, leaping to intercept a guard swinging toward Raven. Kael cut another down, but in the chaos, Arnault's and Kael's attention split, giving the thieves a chance to escape.
Raven pushed the crate along the alley, Kieran and Liora following. Sparks of exhilaration and adrenaline surged. The night air was crisp, sharp, and alive.
Arnault's pulse spiked. He spotted the crate slipping into a shadowed alley. "Kael — after them!" he barked. But as they ran, Kael lost track of the small figures, and the streets twisted unpredictably.
Raven glanced back and smirked. "Looks like someone's persistent," she muttered, almost amused.
Arnault caught up, breath ragged, and froze briefly. She wasn't just fast. She was calculating, audacious, untouchable in these alleys.
Kieran and Liora lagged, struggling with the crate. Raven waited on a narrow ledge above the street, hood slipping slightly. Her green eyes glinted under the lanterns.
"You're bold," she said finally, voice low, teasing, yet sharp. "Most who chase Viperbolts end up bleeding."
"I've kept up so far," he said cautiously, chest heaving. "I don't usually fail at following."
She tilted her head, studying him. "You're not like the others, are you? Not a street rat, not a spoiled noble pretending to understand danger…"
Arnault's lips pressed together. "Just… careful. And observant," he said modestly.
Raven's smirk deepened. "Careful and observant. That's not a bad combination… for someone who sticks his nose in other people's business."
Arnault's glance met hers, sharp and honest. "Sometimes, business is unavoidable," he said softly, trying to remain calm, but failing to mask the faint admiration creeping in.
The tension between them lingered — a mix of suspicion, curiosity, and a spark of something unspoken. Raven leaned slightly forward, studying him with subtle challenge. "I'll let you follow… for now. But don't slow me down, merchant-boy."
"I'll try not to," he replied, voice steady, yet the slightest smirk betrayed that he wasn't entirely intimidated.
Below, the distant shouts of the arms dealer and his men faded, the city of Valantis sprawling under the night sky. Lanterns flickered like stars, shadows twisting with danger.
On that narrow ledge, Raven and the merchant-boy — sixteen, daring, and dangerously alike — had collided. Sparks of tension and intrigue flowed silently, unspoken yet electric. The chase, the theft, and their first meeting had set the stage for a collision neither would forget.