Storm clouds pelted the roof and shutters. Hassan watched. A storm raged inside him. Balling his hand, he slammed it against the empty safe. Gone. It was all gone.

His anger blossomed into pure rage. “I want their heads!” he hissed. “Both of them!” He turned and glared at the two fool guards standing in his door frame.

“Sir,” a guard said. “You said that she --”

Hassan slammed his fist into the safe. Blood burst from his knuckles. “Condemn those rotten, uncultured shits!” He looked back at the empty safe. “No. Bring them alive. I want her to watch.” He spun, and the door burst open.

The dripping guard entered the room and gave a stiff salute. “No sign, sir. We have it on lockdown, but the storm --”

“I don’t care! They will not leave this town! I expect every guard to search --” Hassan groaned loudly. “Condemn it. They are already gone. She had some short teleportation skill!”

The guard swallowed. “I’ll have posters made up.” He walked out of the room.

“Do it.” Hassan spun toward the others. “Did he take yours too?”

“Only the ones we gave you,” a guard said with a sigh. “He clearly was hiding his level.”

“At least we know hers,” another guard volunteered.

Hassan huffed and slammed the rage into the corner of his mind. Think. What would they do? They had to do something. They’d return to where they were from. And that meant. “Condemn it!” he hissed. “Did your skills pick up any deception from her?”

The guards fidgeted and looked at each other.

“I only have the passive from my class,” one volunteered. “But she couldn’t have beaten that. I would have seen anything major.”

“So, she didn’t help or plan to help him then?” Hassan asked.

The guard nodded. “I would have known.”

“Unless she had an S-tier disguise ability,” another guard said with a chuckle.

“How would you even get that?” the other shot back.

“Enough!” Hassan barked. “I need a report to the capital and a report to the Assassin’s Guild.” He sat down and began writing up both.

“You’re sending the guild after her then?” a guard asked.

“Yes. The thieves and assassins know the price of stealing from us.” Hassan scrawled furiously. Ink spattered across the parchment. The quill snapped. Throwing it furiously at the wall, he turned and waited.

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“I am sorry, sir,” a guard said sympathetically.

“The perfect match, and she had to do this!” Hassan huffed. “We could have taken the barony!”

“Maybe they won’t use them. They will be marked as stolen.”

Hassan grabbed a new quill and rapidly started writing. It was time to quash any attempts to sell them and offer a reward for their return.

Flicking off some ink, he grabbed the papers and handed them to a guard. “Get those to the guilds now!”

The guard took them and walked briskly away. A man stepped forward and bowed.

“Artist!” a guard shouted from down the hall.

“Right,” Hassan said, standing up and gesturing at the desk. He listed off their description. The guards joined, correcting and adding more.

The artist sketched, corrected, and altered as needed. Then he stood and gestured to the sketches.

Hassan nodded. “Yes. Those will do nicely.” He took them. “Make more. I intend to have these in the capital by tomorrow.” Handing them to a guard, he started pacing and contemplating. What to do about the family. His brother would mock and use this against him. His father would be livid. He’d lost a fortune in days.

Failing to find a satisfactory answer, he glowered at the lone guard.

“Erm. I’ll check on breakfast,” the guard muttered, walking from the room.

Hassan huffed and waited for his guards to return. As one walked up, he turned. “Well? Did the assassin’s guild agree?”

“They put out the contract. If Matt or Maddie are found, they’ll be killed. Though they didn’t promise the assassin would return the crystals.”

Hassan sighed. “Good enough.” He rubbed his brow and slumped into a chair.

~~~

Roger took a seat next to his soaked son. He looked out at the unending rain and groaned. “Gods, please? Help me out here?”

No response came back. He scuffed the mud, turned, and wiped the water off himself and Riley. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a damp blanket and draped it over them.

With a shiver, he leaned against the tree, pulled out a piece of parchment, and read.

Roger,

Please return to us. We have grave tidings. Your brother and his family have fallen. There is a rumor of a rebellion, or perhaps another family seized a moment of weakness. We need you to return. Please. You are heir now. Riley would be next in line if you don’t want it.

Please forgive us and aid us, for all our sakes,

Mom & Dad.

Roger folded and carefully stashed the letter. He looked out at the drizzling water. I hope you are ready for this, Riley, and I really hope they don’t push you back to that dark place.

He looked over at his son. I’m going to need a backup plan. This one is - messy. So very messy. I’ve been out of the game too long, and who knows if you’ll even want this. I certainly don’t.

He mused on the next steps while leaning against his son. The rain trickled from the branches, dripping on his leg.

~~~

Hassan paced and cursed the rain. The unending downpour was a blight that had ruined everything. He’d lost an entire day of searching. The water had destroyed trails and ruined skills. He turned back to the Ranger. “Nothing? You can’t get anything?”

“Sir, it’s washed away,” the ranger replied. “You’ve seen it. My bird can’t fly in it.”

“Can you get a scent? They slept here!” Hassan yelled, his fury igniting with newfound zeal.

“I’m sorry, sir. Many people have been here, and the scent outside is gone. Everything is gone.” The Ranger wiped the rain from his face. “There’s nothing I can do in this. You’ll need posters. People will see and report them.”

Hassan growled. The low sound rumbled through the air. He turned toward the window. The rain continued its assault, slamming into the glass. “You’re a ranger. Can they travel in this?”

“She can’t. He probably can.”

“So, they’d hole up in one of the towns on the way.” Hassan turned to the guards. “I need the best runner in this town.”

A guard nodded and left. Hassan stewed on his losses. I will find you, Maddie. You owe me everything…