image [https://img.wattpad.com/45fac9870cf35992b05473a5d0838d40bfa81d4c/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f2d394f6c69344458584b39476e413d3d2d313531363734303536362e313832326238366536373666633337373330303039303736333030332e6a7067]

Gael hesitated. Glancing out on the stone balcony. In the distance he could just make out the forges firing up as the sun began to rise around them.

Do you believe in destiny?

Ores watched him, her expression composed yet expectant. Behind her, the faint glow of the sconces cast elongated shadows along the walls, the opulence of her chamber at odds with the feeling of quiet scrutiny pressing down on him.

"I think people like to believe in destiny when they want to justify where they are," he said carefully. "Good or bad, it makes things easier."

Vess, standing just behind him, let out a soft scoff. "Destiny's just a word people use when they don't want to admit they've lost control." Her voice was sharper than she probably meant it to be, but the fire behind it was unmistakable.

Ores's eyes flicked to Vess, then back to Gael, a small smile forming at the edges of her lips. "Interesting," she mused. "You two see the same thing, but from different angles."

Gael kept still, watching her as much as she was watching them. Was this just conversation? Or was she testing us?

Vess crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto one foot. "What does it matter?" she challenged. "Did you ask just to hear us talk in circles, or is there a point to all of this?"

Ores chuckled softly, the sound almost indulgent. "There is always a point, little ember."

Vess stiffened at the nickname, but Ores only leaned forward, resting her hands lightly on her cane. "You came here for a purpose. And now you wish to prove yourselves, to be useful to me."

Gael didn't let his expression waver. That was what they wanted—what they needed. A way closer.

Ores tapped a single finger against the polished wood. "Consider this your first opportunity."

"There's a man," she continued. "He has something I want. Something he shouldn't have in the first place."

Gael listened, silent and still. Vess, on the other hand, was already leaning in, waiting for details. Ores smiled. "I need it retrieved. Quietly, if possible. Messy, if necessary." Her gaze flickered between them, measuring. "Do this for me, and I'll know you're more than just words."

Gael felt Vess stiffen beside him, anticipation thrumming beneath her skin.

"Who?" Vess asked.

Ores's smile deepened. "A collector, one who doesn't understand the value of what he's hoarded."

She gestured lazily toward the door. "You'll find the details waiting for you in the study. Consider it a test if that will help your performance." She paused before continuing "And if reward is what drives you still, know that you will be compensated well if you succeed where others have failed me."

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Gael met Vess's gaze. No need for words. They finally had their way in.

As they turned to leave, Ores's voice trailed behind them, casual, almost playful. "And Gael," she said, her tone light, "I wonder what you'd call it when someone isn't just where they are, but exactly where they're meant to be?"

Gael's breath caught for just a moment, a flicker doubt creeping up on him. He kept walking.

They left the chamber in silence, stepping into the dimly lit corridors of the estate. Only when they were far enough away did Vess exhale sharply, rolling her shoulders. "She's toying with us."

Gael didn't answer right away. Ores wasn't a mind reader. She couldn't know why they were here.

Could she?

Lukas had been waiting long enough to get impatient but not long enough to do anything about it [https://img.wattpad.com/022d574b58bde77bb48a0ebe538d6a6e61a001f4/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f39396e576f4d4244685f616f5a673d3d2d313531363734303536362e313832326237626663336465373737353136393837383530363934392e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Lukas had been waiting long enough to get impatient but not long enough to do anything about it. He leaned against the table, arms crossed, trying not to fidget as Lurras stood nearby in his fancy new military uniform. The room was dim, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and candle smoke.

Then the door groaned open, and Gael and Vess stepped in, their expressions set in that careful way Lukas recognized—like they were bracing for impact.

He arched a brow. "Took you long enough. What happened? Did you recite poetry to her?"

Gael shot him a look, but Lukas caught the faintest flicker of something else beneath it. Not quite amusement. Not quite unease.

"She offered us a job actually," Gael said running his hand through his hair absentmindedly.

Lurras tapped a finger against the parchment in front of him and slid it forward. "You impressed the Madam enough to be given a real task. One that will likely get you killed."

Well please, don't sugar coat it.

"You're going to be stealing from the largest collector of magical artifacts in all of Sacyr. Berron Lenesh."

Lukas felt his stomach twist before his mind could catch up. The name landed heavy in the room, and even Vess twitched at it.

"Shit," he muttered.

Gael tilted his head. "The warlord of Jesarin?"

Lurras nodded. "Ores has had her eye on something in his collection for a long time. Every attempt to acquire it has ended in failure. You might assume this is because of his influence, his fortress, or his personal guard—but no, it's because Berron Lenesh is a paranoid bastard who doesn't trust anyone outside of his own entourage. If we were to send our own agents, he'd see it coming. That we cant risk, you on the other hand.."

Lukas felt his jaw tighten before he could stop it. He wasn't an idiot—he knew what that meant. If they got caught, no one would come looking for them. No one would care.

Gael must have had the same thought because he didn't say anything right away. Vess, on the other hand, looked ready to bite Lurras's head off. Gael put a hand on her arm before she could snap, and she stilled. Barely.

He's always been so good at extinguishing her fuse.

"And what will we be stealing from a warlord?" Gael asked, his tone incredulous.

Lurras turned the parchment toward them. Lukas leaned in, eyes tracing the lines of the crude but detailed sketch at the center of the page—a circular emblem with strange markings carved along the edges. In the middle, an inky gemstone sat, heavy and dark.

"The Sealing Stone of Udir," Lurras said. "A relic from the old world. It was once used to forge unbreakable bonds." His finger tapped against the parchment. "No one knows how to wield it anymore, but the artifact still holds immense power."

Lukas frowned. "So, let me guess. Lenesh keeps it locked up in Jesarin's vault?"

Lurras didn't even blink. "If only it were that simple."

Lukas huffed. It never is.

"And why does Ores want it?" he asked.

Lurras's expression didn't shift. "That's not your concern."

Vess let out a slow breath, but Lukas could see the tension in her posture. She wanted to push, but they wouldn't get an answer. Not here.

"Then all we need to know is where he keeps it," Vess said.

"That," Lurras said, "is your part of your job, as I remember you doing just fine finding where the Catalyst was going to be handed off." Annoyance lacing his words.

Lukas exchanged a glance with Gael, then Vess. This wasn't just dangerous—it was borderline suicidal. Lenesh wasn't the kind of man you stole from. But then again, if the job was going to be easy, Ores wouldn't need them.

Gael exhaled slowly. "Alright. Tell us everything you do know."