For several minutes after Garrett left, I was still having a hard time controlling myself: I had absolutely no idea why, but tormenting The Master Thief was almost as fun as seeing The General's face after I pick his Mansion clean…again. Perhaps it was the fact that he silently lies to himself into believing he was unbothered, and yet was so responsive to my teasing: or maybe it was how he acts like a pouting Urchin and storms off every time his pride gets hurt. Either way, I enjoyed it immensely: gives me enough time to carefully and secretly analyze him under the impression of being childish and annoying in order to see what sort of Thief I'm working with: if he's capable of patience under the heavy strain of misfortune and how long it will last, or if his resolve will snap like a twig and would let his emotions get the better of him to the point where he'll react on impulse.
While to him, I probably looked like an Amateur with a childish and unprofessional attitude: when in reality, it was visibly obvious he hadn't a clue there was an actual reason for it, and I fully intended for it to stay that way: at least until I was certain he was able to be trusted. Regardless of his reputation and the stories Basso'd tell me over a pint, cards or the occasional Chess game: you could never be too careful with things like 'trust' in this City: regardless of what the multiple, different Sources said, the mistrust (and oftentimes the manipulation and deception) of everyone around you was one of the most important rules one had to follow in order to survive to see another day: especially if you grew up alone in the savage, unforgiving underbelly of The City.
And while Basso often portrayed Garrett as a Thief with morals and good intentions, that was still no excuse to treat him any different than anyone else I'd come into contact with: and the feelings were clearly mutual, which was good: at least we understood each other on that front and knew it wasn't personal, if that particular detail even mattered: it was just how things were. That being said, I closed and locked the balcony doors and replaced my current project, journal and other tools back on the desk: ready and waiting for me to pick up where I left off, only to be forced to wait a little longer as my stomach gave a loud, drawn-out snarl.
With a hidden scowl, I glared at it with heavy annoyance: growing up alone, you never knew when or where you'll be fortunate enough to have your next meal: and hunger was something I'd quickly gotten used to, more specifically: the fact I didn't always go to sleep full when I was young, and had spent weeks training myself to ignore it. 'May as well make a list of what I need in the meantime.' I thought with an irritated sigh: annoyed I had once-again been interrupted from my work, before rising to my feet and lifted the trap door and descended down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen: glad it was located on the floor below me, instead of all the way at the bottom of The Lighthouse.
Lighting the candles, I walked around the counters I had built and installed in the circular room and opened the small closet I had turned into my pantry of sorts: taking inventory of what food items I had left and which ones I needed to stock up on. "Vegetable stew, it is." I mumbled to myself: finding very little food remaining in the several large, Burlap sacks I had stored away: leaving only a few potatoes, carrots and green beans: nothing extravagant, but would serve its purpose as a meal all the same. Taking grocery notes in a small notebook on the counter, I carried the ingredients across the room and set them in the sink to be washed, kneeling down and turned the valve that allowed fresh water to climb through the pipes from the nearby well and into the sink.
Rising from my crouch, I removed my gloves and gave my bare hands a harsh scrubbing before I poured the vegetables in the water to soak for a few minutes, stepping away from the sink and began digging around in the cupboards beneath the stove that had been a nightmare and a half to not only carry up here, but install and get working without any form of electricity: that privilege was reserved only for The Baron and the High-Class Aristocrats and Nobles scattered among the Districts. Placing the cast-iron pot on the stove, I let it sit where it was while I picked up my scrub-brush and made sure each and every one of the few remaining vegetables was clean and free of dirt: pausing for a short while longer to pull one of the knives from the block and cut the eyes from the potatoes before beginning the repetitive task of peeling and cutting them.
'Wish I had some sausage links to go with this.' I thought, hoping I would be able to restock soon: really didn't want to have to travel all the way to Stonemarket just to gather supplies when the Trading Ships were much closer and carried fresher, higher quality goods, instead. Once they were peeled and cut into manageable chunks, I chopped the carrots and snapped the beans before I filled the pot with water and tossed them in: lighting the gas stove and waited for it to simmer. Knowing it will take a while for the water to boil, and even longer for my meal to finish: I retied my gloves and headed even further down into The Lighthouse, jogging down the uneven and cracked stone stairs and into my bedroom: pulling my mask down and smiling at Lucille as she sang her songs and preened her iridescent feathers in the light of the candles scattered throughout the room.
Lighting the candles on the desk near her cage, I dug around in the drawers of the scarred and worn desk, searching the cluttered mess for a blank tinderbox: feeling a small smirk stretch across my face as Lucille hopped up on my shoulder and started picking at the loose, fiery curls that had been peeking from under my hood. 'There you are, you little shit.' I thought as I finally found one in the jumbled mess of messages Basso had been sending me every time he either wanted to rant about something, or whenever he had a Job for me.
"Really should burn these." I mused, flipping the blank one on its face and dipped my pen in the dark ink before beginning to write out my latest message to my Fence. 'You owe me.' The three, simple words that I knew would send a shiver down his back: not that I would ever hurt Basso, but the Boxman was very aware of how much I hated surprises dropped in my lap without so much as a warning and was soon to pay for it. Opening the window, I shut my eyes in pleasure for a short while as the cool, fresh sea-breeze blew in through the open window and caressed my face as it blew past me: once-again making me glad I lived here to enjoy the freshest air in The City: regardless if it carried the tang of salt from the sea.
"To Basso." I told the Nightingale, who ceased her playful pecking and snapped to attention and took the tinderbox in her beak with a garbled 'chirp', spreading her wings and taking to the overcast night sky to complete her task without hesitation. I usually don't bother signing my messages like Basso does: the sight of the ebon-black Nightingale was more than confirmation enough, it also helped keep my identity a mystery from all but those who absolutely needed to know it: which were very few and even further between. Once she was gone, I pulled away from the window and retreated back up to the kitchen to check on my meal and gage how much longer I had to wait to for it to be finished: pausing next to the cupboards and silverware drawers and pulled out a wooden bowl and a clean fork while I waited in the meantime.
Glancing in the steaming, simmering pot, I set my bowl on the counter and scooped some of the potatoes and carrots with the ladle and gave them an experimental 'poke' with my fork: knowing the potatoes cooked the fastest, but the carrots and beans weren't quite ready yet. With this in mind, I placed them back in the pot before turning away and focusing on setting the small table to the side of the room, placing my fork on the woven placemat and pouring myself a glass of water from the sink before taking a seat and waited. As I watched the steam rise from the pot like smoke, I felt my mind drift to the upcoming Job and couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement come to life in the depths of my chest.
Yes, I worked alone and preferred it that way, but I had been partnered on a Job with The legendary Master Thief: someone many considered to be a Myth, a literal Ghost that nobody has ever seen except for the barest of glimpses of a shadow in the darkness before it was gone. When I was new to the profession, I would listen to the stories and rumors I'd hear through windows and doorways: amazed by the skills of this one Thief, and vowed to myself I would become just as skillful as he was and earn myself a reputation of my own: a name to be feared and respected, instead of nothing more than a starving Urchin waiting in line for a Dead Cart or a spot in The Gallows.
After I'd actually met him, however: I admit I wasn't all that impressed with the man's infuriating, condescending attitude, nor him with my own mischievous one: to my utter annoyance, I didn't spend twenty-six years among the stone and sludge learning and honing my skills in hopes of at least some form of recognition or respect from someone I had come to greatly respect for being The City's Best: and would take great pleasure proving that I was just as good as he was. However, I refused to let my pride get the best of me as I worked to gain such an honor, if I ever did: and I absolutely refused to have him see me as someone as reckless, stubborn and arrogant as Erin, and would never compromise a Job over something as petty as arrogance, superiority or pride, something I also intended to show my partner as we completed this Heist and picked the place clean while doing it.
Snapping back to reality, I mentally punched myself for even thinking I cared what The Master Thief thought about me: I needed no one's approval of how I chose to live or my skills and talents, and while having his respect would be a valuable bonus: the look on his face as he'd begrudgingly admit it would be even more so, though I had a feeling he'd rather die first. Tossing that aggravating thought to the wind, I got up from my seat with my bowl in tow and scooped a generous portion of the finished stew into it: relishing in the warmth that seeped through the wood and into my hands as the evening chill creeped in through the cracks in the surrounding stone. Returning to my seat, I dug into my meal and was pleased to find that while I would have preferred to have it simmer throughout the day with all the ingredients involved: it still turned out filling and tasty for what it was worth.
That being said, it didn't take me long to finish: leaving me with more than enough leftovers to store away in glass jars and placed safely in the preserving bin: the cold air from outside and the near-freezing stone being more than enough to keep it fresh for at least a few days more. Once the leftovers were stored and I had cleaned my mess, I placed the pot, bowl, fork and glass in the sink to soak for a while before they were scrubbed clean and put away. Satisfied, I returned to the watch room and gazed at my current project as it sat innocently on the desk: wondering if there was enough time to continue working on it tonight, before deciding it would be better to wait until the next evening: especially when this particular recipe required my full attention and had very little room for error: and Garrett's unexpected visit had left my mind and thoughts in such turmoil, that any attempt to continue messing with it tonight would be most…unfortunate.
'I appreciate that, truly.' I mentally growled, not even phased by how sarcastic my inner thoughts sounded as I approached the balcony and stepped outside: making sure to lock the doors behind me and stayed clear of the lantern's light as I enjoyed the cool breeze and sounds of the sea. "Since Basso clearly doesn't have a Job for me right now, I suppose I could pay Auldale a visit." I mused, feeling a mischievous smile spread across my face as I lifted my mask back to where it belonged, before I climbed onto the topmost railing, and jumped over the edge without an ounce of fear: enjoying the freedom of freefalling for a short while, before I used my momentum and flipped around and threw my grapple at the stone with lethal precision: its hooked teeth biting fiercely into the stone of The Lighthouse as I held on tight to the rope as I came to a sudden, but fluid halt: stopping my fall and allowing myself to regain my bearings and slide down the rest of the way, gently landing on the wet, rocky ground with hardly a sound.
With a well-practiced tug, the grapple came free and allowed me to catch it out of the air as it fell and placed it back in its holster at my hip before I turned on my heel and took off running across the rocky ground and up the side of an apartment building: heading north along The Thieves' Highway towards Auldale: one of the highest class Districts of The City, one full of potential Targets and even more valuables to snatch. On the downside, The Watchmen that patrolled this District were well-trained and a lot smarter than the ones in Stonemarket: which made sneaking past them much more of a challenge and actually put my skills to the test to the point where I'd actually had to duck for cover under the massive, wooden and stone bridge separating North Dayport and Auldale as a Watch Hound startled snarling and tugged its master and two companions in my direction.
"Hey, Artemus! Shut that damned Mutt up, will you?! Tired of it losing its shit every time it sees a Rat!" an older voice snarled, cueing the snarling Dog to choke on its barking as its master yanked back on the lead and did just that with a well-placed swat: judging by the sudden, pitiful 'yelp'. "Sorry Sir, she's fresh out of training and still young: we're working on it." the Dog's master replied, sounding embarrassed at the scolding he received from his Superior and the muffled laughter that no-doubt came from his previously-silent companion. "See to it that you do, The Baron's Watch can't have Hounds going after everything they see, son: else it won't know what to do if a Criminal runs into the Crowd." the older voice said, ending that conversation as the group passed my hiding spot and vanished around the corner, allowing me to climb down from the support rafters under the bridge and scurry up a rope hanging from the rafters of a warehouse across the street.
Once I was safely back on the rooftops, I did a quick scan of the area: checking for anything in the immediate area that was worth snatching, before my gaze was stolen by two large shapes creeping over the arch of a nearby rooftop, before vanishing through the darkness: one much smaller than the other, and neither of them very quiet or graceful. 'Wonderful, the Noose-Bait are out.' I thought in disdain, wishing those who had no talent for Larceny would quit while they were ahead: especially when The Watch would be on high-alert for days on end after a Thief that had no business snooping was caught and hanged, making it that much more difficult for those like Garrett and myself to actually complete our Jobs.
"They won't last long." I muttered to myself before continuing on my way, reaching Auldale within the next half hour or so: having to duck around several more Watch Patrols and well-lit areas that had added to the amount of wasted time, overall. Glancing to the horizon, I couldn't hold back the frustrated growl that escaped from between my teeth: as I noticed the eastern sky begin to lighten, leaving me with little-to-no time to pick through any homes or shops for valuables: but that did NOT mean I would be unable to pay a very…specific building in mind a little visit. "This should be interesting." I mused, feeling a smirk stretch across my face as I reached the top of a Nobleman's chimney and headed east: leaping and climbing over the uneven rooftops for several more streets before sliding down the last roof and landed quietly behind a small hedge in a luscious, well-kept garden surrounded by a high, stone wall and filled with well-groomed hedges and blooming flowerbeds and several proud trees scattered throughout.
Towards the center of the garden was a marble fountain depicting a Swan spreading its wings as it prepared to take flight as it was surrounded by multiple other sorts of birds, fish and other animals carved along the basin. Glad the grass beneath my boots and repetitive noise of the fountain made it easy to silence my already-soundless footsteps, I didn't have to try very hard to avoid the several electrical lampposts and sleepy Guards scattered along the bricked path that lead around the large garden and towards the even larger Manor that was just as pristine as the rest of the property: using benches and hedges for cover as I made my way around the shadows and towards an old, warped, apple tree: ducking quickly behind its large, twisting trunk as the familiar sounds of my Target's footsteps gradually made their way in my direction.
Hugging the shadows, I reached behind me and gripped my cape and draped it around me like a sort of blanket: further distorting my human shape in the darkness and making me appear as just another part of the tree, leaving my Target without the slightest clue they were being watched. 'There you are.' I thought, narrowing my eyes as a sinister grin split across my face as my Target passed by my hiding spot and continued on their way through the darkened garden: allowing me to move away from the tree and stalk behind and just out of sight. Ducking for cover behind a hedge as my Target suddenly turned around, I was able to creep closer without giving off any hint that I was there: just as I wanted. Instead of one of my usual Targets of Nobles or Guards, this…particular Target carried nothing of value in sight, and was much MUCH smaller than even the shortest man.
Waiting for the boy to step into the darkness, I couldn't stop the evil grin from spreading across my hidden face as he ventured into the shadows: not even realizing I had crept directly behind him, that is: until I struck like a Hawk on a Raven, snatching the small boy up in my arms with one hand around his mouth and the other around his middle as he thrashed, struggled and let out muffled screams no one would hear. Keeping his small body pressed firmly against my chest, I felt my grin widen as he seemed to finally realize what was happening and actually started fighting back: using his boney elbows and kept aiming for my eyes and throat, while trying to throw the back of his head into my nose. It was only when I was trying to avoid taking his left elbow to the jaw, when he managed to land a solid hit to my breast with his right: causing me to immediately drop him with a pained grunt of surprise.
Upon realizing he was free, instead of taking off running, the boy turned around with his small fists raised in a sloppy, sideways fighting stance: only to have him freeze in place for several seconds before his small face lit up with a wide, toothy grin as he caught sight of my slumped over form as I tried to get the breath back in my lungs, subconsciously holding my offended breast in my glove in order to protect it from further harm. "Shadow! You scared me!" he giggled, laughing at my pain as I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest as I glared down at him: not at all pleased by his reaction to my agonized suffering. He was a tiny little thing: with the top of his head barely reaching my hip and was dressed in clothing that was a bit too big for him and more than a bit worse for wear, but judging by the look in his mischievous, blue eyes and wide smile that was missing a few baby teeth, he didn't seem to care as he beamed at me.
"What did you expect? That was a sneaky shot, and you have absolutely NO idea how much that actually hurts! You and your damned elbows!" I growled, not actually upset with him in the least: though I couldn't help but pout that a boy no-older-than four-years-old managed to exploit such a weakness that he shouldn't even know about at his age. "Bad words, Shadow!" he accused, pointing a short, pudgy finger at me: causing me to roll my eyes at his antics with a scowl hidden beneath my mask, appalled he was actually trying to scold me instead of it being the other way around. Instead of him calling me by my actual title, I honestly didn't care that he'd come up with his own nickname for me: though I was secretly glad he actually came up with something that fit someone of my profession instead of something that made me feel as if I was some sort of pet.
"Yeah yeah, you did decently-well in defending yourself this time, Arno. However, you took too long to react: The City isn't safe, least of all for small Urchins like you, had I been an Enemy you would have been long-dead by the time you actually started fighting back: you need to react quicker than your foes, else it won't end well for you." I lectured, causing his grin to vanish at the tone I used as he stared at his feet in shame as my words sunk in. While I hadn't intended to snap, I needed him to understand that hesitating to defend himself if he'd ever actually find himself grabbed or cornered was a very dangerous thing to do and would quite-possibly end with his death. "I'm sorry, Shadow…I didn't mean to." he replied in a small voice, causing me to let out a quiet sigh as I approached him and knelt in the grass next to him: bumping him under the chin with my fist to make him look me in the eye.
"It's not about whether or not you meant to, its about keeping yourself safe: the Guards aren't always going to be around to watch out for you, nor will I. And it's because of that, that you need to learn what I'm teaching you and listen to what I tell you, do you understand?" I questioned, waiting patiently as his small mind caught up with my words: leaving him to nod after a few minutes of thinking. "I think so." he confirmed, though I knew it would be much longer before he actually understood fully: but I would accept his answer with a grain of salt, nonetheless. "Good. Now, have you been practicing your knots like I showed you?" I asked, causing the little boy to look away with an upset look on his face: causing a small frown of my own to make itself known beneath my mask.
"I tried! But I can't get it right! It's like the rope doesn't like me and won't listen!" he whined, causing me to let out a small 'huff' of laughter at the childish answer: making Arno pout even more once he'd realized I was amused by his answer. "Ropes don't 'like or dislike' anything, Arno: it's a rope, it isn't alive and doesn't have feelings. Show me what you're doing, and I'll tell you what you're doing wrong so you can fix it." I said, watching him fiddle with his chubby little hands for several seconds before pulling a small length of rope out of his pocket and began working on the latest knot I had been teaching him how to tie: 'The Monkey's Fist'. Ever since I first met the boy, I felt the need to teach him the same set of skills I had been teaching The Beggars and other street Urchins: seeing no harm in teaching him things I knew he would never learn otherwise.
Keeping my keen gaze on which way he threaded and looped the rope and how, I suddenly reached out and stopped him from going any further, feeling his confused gaze on me as I untied the part he'd just done and readjusted his fingers to the correct position. "You skipped a step: you have to loop it THIS way first before you do this part, otherwise you'll end up with a jumbled mess. Try it now." I instructed, completely untying the messy knot and watched as he did it again: keeping close attention as he made to make his same mistake again, only to hesitate and followed my instructions like I told him: ending up with a sloppy, but acceptable 'Monkey's Fist' that was nowhere near perfect: but it wasn't a mistake that practice couldn't fix.
"I did it!" he cheered loudly, only to giggle into his hands as I quickly shushed him before he woke any of the sleeping Guards: not understanding the need to be quiet yet, which he eventually would: especially once he reached the age where he was actually able to understand the fact that the law and I were NOT friends and loud noises were my Enemy. "You did. Well done, Arno." I praised, watching the boy beam like one of The Baron's electrical lights at the rarely-given compliment: before his gaze fell once-again, making me roll my eyes at how quickly his mood changed, but had to remind myself that he was young and the habit would pass eventually. "But…it's ugly." he pouted, making me bark out a laugh as I reached out and ruffled his curly, dark-brown locks: smirking as he swatted at my offending hand with a half-assed growl that was rather pathetic and not even close to threatening: like a soaking wet puppy.
"Listen, brat: it may look 'ugly' now, but if you practice like I keep telling you: what do you think will happen?" I questioned, asking the obviously-rhetoric question as he hardened his gaze in contemplation before he looked up at me again. "It'll…get better?" he guessed, glancing at the rope in his hands again as I nodded: probably making no sense to one as young as him, but it was better to teach him young instead of having him grow up a fool to be taken advantage of. "That's right. Now, I want you to practice those steps without skipping any this time and see how it looks the more you do it. Pretty soon, I wouldn't be able to tell yours apart from mine." I instructed again, rising to my full height and crossing my arms over my chest again, suddenly glaring at the small boy as soon as he replaced the rope back into his pocket.
"And don't you think that that little 'Rope Trick' excuses you from what happens now. It's four 'o clock in the morning, Arno: you should be in bed and NOT out here, what are you doing out here alone when you should be asleep?" I questioned, not liking how he suddenly became nervous as he fiddled with the hem of his oversized tunic and tried very hard to keep his eyes off my piercing gaze: especially once he caught the glare that reflected the light of the lamps as I waited for an explanation as to why he was roaming the grounds this late when he knew he had studies to attend to once the sun rose. However, in him trying so hard to hide: I found the exact reason why, and I was NOT pleased by it, especially when he waited this long to say anything at all, regardless if he'd actually spoke about it or not.
"You should know, that you can't hide anything from someone like me: especially if you don't want it to be known, we always find the truth, one way or the other. That being said, I'm only going to ask this once: lift your tunic, or I'm going to do it for you, and I wouldn't make me have to do that, if I were you." I scolded, knowing I hit the imaginary nail right on the head as the boy flinched before a brief look of panic crossed his face: causing his fidgeting to increase the longer I stared at him, only to start whimpering as I took a step forward. "No Shadow!" he yelped, trying in vain to keep my hands away as I lunged forward and snatched hold of his tunic in my right hand, while keeping him still with my left. "Shut up." I spat, not feeling the least bit apologetic as I harshly swatted his offending hands and lifted the hem to his face: making me grit my teeth in a snarl as I glared at the multiple black, purple and green bruises that covered his torso, and the long, angry red cuts that went hand-in-hand with them: nothing appeared broken, judging by the lack of 'rattles' in his breathing, but it was clear the pain was intense for one so small.
'Bastard used a Switch to top it off.' I noted vehemently, flicking my gaze to the boy as he struggled to hold back his tears: whether they were tears of pain or shame, I didn't know and honestly didn't care as I let the tunic fall back into place as I let him go. "Talk. Now." I snarled, watching as he continued his pathetic sniveling, flinching away as he heard the harsh demand and knew I wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. "T-They tried to take Tonio from me! H-Hit me when I wouldn't let go! They hit me even after they took him away!" he bawled, making my glare shift from him, and in the direction of the darkened Manor instead: knowing exactly who was behind the brutal beating, and was debating teaching those responsible a 'lesson', in return.
'All this violence, for a toy.' I thought, knowing the object Arno called 'Tonio' was more than just a toy to him: when I'd first come across him, I had an uncharacteristic urge to give him something, as I myself came from nothing: I knew the boy wasn't the type to survive like I had, he was simply 'too soft' for it. And after many hours hiding in the Taxidermist's shop in between Jobs, I had taken part of a Bear pelt and soft leather and had made him a Bear of his own that had been stuffed with wool and had golden buttons for eyes. Even though I'd never made anything of the sort before, I'll never forget the look on his tear-stained face as he gazed at me in utter disbelief the day I gave it to him: that Bear was his most prized possession, and in this City: there wasn't much happiness as it was, which was something many desperately needed more of.
"Come with me." I said, my glare freezing him in place as he tried to protest, only to cower away in fear of incurring my wrath: and while I wouldn't lay a hand on him, I'd been told by several of my fellow Thieves and Basso many times that I'd had a savage temper: one that was 'Not one to trifle with', apparently: though I think Basso just told them Ghost stories about me to keep them in line, if I'm being honest. Keeping to the shadows, I had taken only two steps before I heard the quiet sound of him following me: the occasional sniveling the only sounds that he made as I led him around the sleeping Guards, through the garden and over to the side of the large Manor. Glancing at the small boy out of the corner of my eye, I took hold of my whip (gritting my teeth as he flinched at the sight of it) and snapped it upwards: causing it to wrap around an overhanging rafter of one of the upper floors.
Giving it a few harsh 'tugs', I was satisfied with the confirmation that it wasn't about to come loose halfway through a climb before I silently beckoned to Arno: who wiped his tearstained face and climbed on my back, being mindful enough to do so underneath my cape instead of choking me with it. 'At least he has some form of common sense.' I thought, making sure he held on tight as I scurried up the rope and crept inside an open window on the second floor: hardly even bothered by the added weight of my tiny companion. Crouching low, I did a quick sweep for Guards, Birds or Dogs before quietly creeping along the carpeted floor of the hallway and around the corner until I reached the last door on the right. The interior of the Manor was just like any other in this City: extravagant, clean, and full of priceless and expensive Artifacts: however, this was one of the very, very few places I wouldn't steal from, and made sure to decline any Job that required taking something from this particular building.
Taking a quick peek in the keyhole, I was pleased to find no one inside the room as I pulled down on the handle and slipped inside. Upon reaching Arno's room, I reached behind me and gave the boy a slight nudge with the back of my hand: cueing him to let go of me and step out from underneath my cape and moved towards the middle of the room. "Now, you stay here. I won't be long." I muttered, making sure he heard me as I pushed him towards his bed: glaring at him and holding my hand up when he tried to protest and follow after me. Once I was sure he would obey, I slipped back out the door and around the next corner: taking great care not to disturb the Bird cage on a nearby side-table, or the Guard sleeping in the chair next to it: making me wonder how the hell the man's obnoxious snoring hadn't woken up anyone else in any of the nearby rooms.
Rolling my eyes at the irony, I crept along the hallways until I came upon the one I had been searching for: cursing silently as I caught sight of candlelight flickering from underneath the door. 'So much for being easy.' I mused, not minding the challenge, but in taking extra caution instead of what I'd originally planned had made it even harder for me to get my task done and back to The Lighthouse before sunrise: which didn't seem likely at this point, judging by the lightening sky. Glancing along both ends of the hallway for patrolling Guards, I took a peek inside the keyhole before reaching for the undersides of my wrists: pulling out a pair of lockpicks from within the lining of my gloves and quickly got to work: unlocking the door with three, simple 'clicks'. Once I was inside, I made short work of the small flames of the several candles in the nearby candlestick with a wave of my hand: leaving the room in darkness that was much better suited for a Nightingale.
'There, nice and cozy.' I mused, feeling a slight smirk twitch in my lip as I became a Shade in the darkness: shifting from cover-to-cover as I made my way around the pair of beds and dressing tables before coming to a stop next to a locked trunk sitting innocently beneath the window against the wall. 'Like a lock's going to stop me.' I mentally deadpanned, knowing the people of The City never learn that a good Thief will always find a way around a trap or a lock and claim their prize despite the owner's best efforts to keep it safe. As soon as the trunk was unlocked, I took great care making sure the noisy lid didn't wake the two occupants in the beds not five feet away: breathing a silent sigh of relief that neither had so much as stirred from the 'screeching' sound of the rusty hinge as it opened, exposing the contents to the world.
There wasn't much inside, with the exception of several trinkets and other treasures that held no real value: and in the center of it all, lay Tonio: its soft, black fur scuffed up and dirty, but was cleaned easily enough and had suffered no obvious damage…unlike Arno. Now, I was not a violent person by nature: but as soon as I saw the angry cuts and bruises on that little boy, well…I would've had no qualms with feeding someone their teeth as retribution for such a sickening action, no matter who it was. Picking up the Bear, I tucked it safely away in my Satchel before closing the trunk and departing from the room: sparing the two sleeping boys a venomous glare that I'm sure could've given one of Garrett's a run for its money before taking a deep breath through my nose and backtracked to Arno's room: making sure to gently close the door behind me in case anyone had passed by and grew suspicious.
Reaching the familiar door, I quietly slipped inside: focusing my gaze on the boy as he sat quietly on his bed before staring at me with a curious, but expectant look. Rising to my full height, I approached the bed and removed Tonio from my Satchel: to the utter delight of the boy before me, who took the Bear and practically-crushed it to his chest in relief. "Tonio! You found him!" he squealed, making an involuntary flinch shudder through my body as a wince appear on my face at his high-pitched voice and volume that was sure to draw attention if he kept it up. "Yes, I found him: now keep it down before you wake someone." I hissed, rolling my eyes as he giggled and hugged the Bear even tighter to his chest: making it very hard to ignore the little voice in my head that had been demanding justice for the boy's abuse: which became all-the-more apparent as he winced.
'If only there were more hours in the night.' I thought dangerously, gritting my teeth to keep myself from giving his attackers a 'Life Lesson' they would remember for the rest of their lives. "Now that you have him back, go to sleep: or you'll regret it when you're falling asleep during your lessons." I reminded him, unable to hide the grin that spread across my face at the horrified and panic-stricken expression that had suddenly taken over his previously-elated one. Once he situated himself, I turned on my heel and made to take my leave and return to The Lighthouse: when his sudden voice stopped me. "You'll come back, right Shadow?" he asked, causing me to glance back at him over my shoulder with a contemplative frown, one that had quickly vanished as I saw the expression on his face: one of worry with an underlying sadness that I've seen too many times in the eyes of the people in The City. "Are there clouds in the sky?" I replied, watching his small mind try to understand the sarcastic question before the answer finally clicked, causing his face to light up with a wide, toothy grin.
Tossing him a playful 'wink', I huffed a laugh as Arno waved his farewell with one hand, while making the Bear 'wave' with the other before I slipped around the corner and closed the door: opting to see myself out before the Roosters began their infuriating 'crowing' and woke up more people than I was willing to deal with. As soon as I slipped out of the Manor and made my way back up to The Thieves' Highway, I was reminded of my current 'Headache with a Name': knowing he would be coming to retrieve me soon for this Job, which hopefully carried ALL the information by the time we left for The General's Manor: because if we were going in blind, or the Client lied and was sending us into an Ambush…well, that would surely be an interesting outcome: for if it was something every Thief agreed on, it was this one, simple fact: we don't take kindly to being cheated, and woe to any who's stupid enough to try. Because in this City, Liars and Cheaters are often hanged, or given to The Eel Biters: and not even I wanted to know how they coaxed such screams from the 'lucky' ones: because if the rumors were true, I'd much rather prefer The General's torture: which may very well be a good possibility this time, I just hoped the persistant feeling of dread was wrong: but knowing my luck, this was just the beginning of the nightmare, and I did NOT want to see how it ended.