The quiet of the night was shattered by a gentle shake. Lucian's eyes fluttered open, his mind still foggy with sleep. Stephanos stood over him, a dark shape against the moonlit window.

"It's time," he whispered, holding out a bundle of fabric. "Put this on."

Lucian sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He took the offered garment, unfolding it to reveal a cloak. As he stood, he held it up, studying its color in the light.

"Why's it dark blue?" He asked.

Stephanos moved to the window, peering out at the night sky. "The moon's reflection is blue. This'll help us blend in, make us harder to spot."

Lucian's eyebrows rose as he slipped the cloak over his shoulders. "That's... pretty clever. Where'd you learn that trick?"

"Some folks from the east," he replied, turning back to face his companion. "They know a thing or two about moving unseen."

"No shit," Lucian muttered. He fastened the cloak, then reached for his dagger, securing it at his side. Stephanos did the same.

As they finished their preparations, Stephanos placed a hand on Lucian's shoulder. "Listen, the dagger's a last resort, got it? We're not there to kill anyone. We get in, grab the documents, and get out. Clean and quiet."

"Yeah, I hear you. No bloodshed unless absolutely necessary." He paused, a thought occurring to him. "You've got the key, right?"

Stephanos patted a hidden pocket in his cloak. "Right here. Now, let's move. The night won't last forever."

They slipped out of the room, their footsteps muffled on the wooden floor. The house was silent, its other occupants lost in sleep. As they reached the door, Lucian's hand hesitated on the handle.

"You sure about this?" he whispered. "Once we're out there, there's no turning back."

Stephanos met his gaze. "We've come too far to back out now. Those documents could change everything. You ready for this?"

He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready. Let's do this."

They eased the door open, wincing at the slight creak of hinges.

As they moved down the empty street, Lucian asked, "So, these eastern guys," he said, keeping his voice low, "they teach you anything else useful?"

"A few things," Stephanos chuckled. "Might show you sometime, if you're interested."

"Maybe. Assuming we survive this little adventure."

They fell silent as they passed a group of revelers stumbling home from a late-night tavern. Once the coast was clear, Stephanos spoke again.

"You remember the plan? Every step?"

"Yeah," Lucian nodded. "I've got it. Side entrance, avoid the guards, up to the second floor. Northeast corner, right?"

"That's it. And if anything goes wrong?"

"Emergency exits. Meet at the old fisherman's shack by the docks if we get separated."

"Good," Stephanos said. "Keep your wits about you in there. Aristos isn't just some petty criminal. He's dangerous, and he's got more than muscle protecting his secrets."

"What do you mean? You think he's got some kind of... I don't know, magic or something?"

"Not magic. But traps, alarms, things we might not expect. We need to be ready for anything."

They turned down a narrow alley, the warehouses looming ahead.

"You know," Lucian said, "part of me still can't believe we're doing this. Sneaking into a heavily guarded warehouse, stealing from one of the most powerful men in the city. It's like something out of a story."

"Trust me, it's all too real. And a lot less glamorous than the bards make it sound. You ready to get your hands dirty?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's make some history."

They emerged from the alley, the warehouse now directly ahead. Its dark bulk rose against the night sky, windows like empty eyes staring down at them. Stephanos held up a hand, signaling a halt.

"This is it," he whispered. "Last chance to back out."

Lucian met his gaze. "Not a chance. We're in this together."

"Alright then," Stephanos nodded. "Let's go change the world."

Stephanos and Lucian crouched low, hugging the outer wall of the warehouse. The rough stone scraped against their backs as they inched towards the side entrance. Ahead, voices drifted on the night air - the guards, engaged in their nightly game of chance.

"Seven! Pay up, Kallinikos!" one guard crowed.

"Bah, the dice are cursed," another grumbled.

Stephanos held up a hand, signaling Lucian to halt. They froze, barely breathing as a guard wandered past, mere feet from their position. The man yawned, stretching his arms overhead before rejoining his comrades.

"Now," Stephanos whispered.

They darted forward, keeping low. The side entrance loomed before them - a simple wooden door, unremarkable save for the heavy iron lock securing it. Stephanos produced a set of thin metal tools from within his cloak.

"Keep watch," he muttered to Lucian.

The boy nodded, eyes scanning the courtyard. The guards remained focused on their game, the clatter of dice punctuated by groans and laughter.

Stephanos worked quickly, his fingers moving. A soft click, nearly inaudible, signaled success. He eased the door open, wincing at a faint creak.

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"What was that?" One of the guards perked up, glancing in their direction.

Lucian's hand moved to his dagger, muscles tensing. But the guard's attention was quickly reclaimed by the game.

"Your turn, Nikias. Try not to lose your week's pay this time."

The two slipped inside, easing the door shut behind them. The warehouse interior loomed dark and cavernous. Crates and barrels formed a maze of shadows, the air heavy with the scent of spices and leather.

"Second floor," Stephanos breathed. "Northeast corner."

They moved carefully, each step measured. A board creaked underfoot, and both men froze. Seconds stretched like hours as they listened for any sign they'd been detected. When no alarm was raised, they pressed on.

The stairs posed a challenge - old wood that groaned under their weight. They ascended slowly, pausing after each step to listen. Lucian's heart thundered in his chest, so loud he feared it might give them away.

At the top of the stairs, voices drifted from a nearby room. The night watch, no doubt. Stephanos gestured towards a shadowy corridor. They crept forward, hyper-aware of every sound - the scrape of fabric against stone, the whisper of their own breathing.

"Hey!" A voice rang out.

Lucian and Stephanos flattened themselves against the wall, hardly daring to breathe as footsteps approached.

"Where do you think you're going?" The voice continued. "The privy's the other way, you drunk bastard."

A slurred reply came from further down the hall, followed by retreating footsteps and a distant door slamming. Lucian let out a shaky breath, exchanging a relieved glance with Stephanos.

They continued on, finally reaching a heavy wooden door in the northeast corner. A single guard stood watch, leaning against the wall with his eyes half-closed. Stephanos reached into his cloak, producing a small cloth bag.

With a quick motion, he tossed the bag. It burst open at the guard's feet, releasing a fine powder. The man's eyes widened in surprise, then rolled back as he slumped to the ground.

"Sleeping powder," Stephanos explained in a whisper. "He'll wake with one hell of a headache, but he'll live."

"What? But how did you—"

"Thais," Stephanos cut him off. "She gave me this as a way to help us."

"I see."

"Now, come on. Help me with this."

They dragged the unconscious guard into a nearby alcove, then turned their attention to the door. This lock was more complex, but Stephanos made short work of it.

The door swung open, revealing a small room cluttered with shelves and strongboxes. In the center stood an ornate chest, its surface gleaming faintly in the light filtering through a high window.

"There," he breathed. "The ledger."

They approached the chest, every sense on high alert. Stephanos produced the key Demetrios had provided, sliding it into the lock.

A soft click, and the lid lifted. Inside, nestled among various papers and trinkets, lay a thick, leather-bound book.

"We did it," Lucian whispered, a note of awe in his voice.

Stephanos carefully lifted the ledger, tucking it securely inside his cloak. "We're not done yet. Now comes the hard part - getting out alive."

They retraced their steps through the warehouse and descended the creaking stairs with agonizing slowness, pausing at the slightest sound. The ledger, hidden beneath Stephanos' cloak, felt like a lead weight.

As they neared the side entrance, voices drifted from the courtyard. The guards were still at their game, oblivious to the theft that had occurred under their noses.

"Almost there," Stephanos breathed.

They crept towards the door, keeping to the deepest shadows. Lucian's hand rested on the door handle, ready to make their escape. Freedom was mere steps away.

Then, disaster struck.

As Stephanos shifted his weight, preparing to slip out, a metallic clink rang through the warehouse. The key, their means of entry, had slipped from its hiding place and clattered to the floor.

Time seemed to freeze.

Stephanos and Lucian stood motionless, eyes wide with horror. In the courtyard, the guards fell silent, heads turning towards the source of the noise.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. The two found themselves staring into the startled faces of the guards, who gaped back in equal shock.

The tableau shattered as one guard found his voice. "Get them!" he bellowed, reaching for his weapon.

"Run!" Stephanos shouted, shoving Lucian towards the door.

They burst into the courtyard, abandoning stealth for speed. Behind them, shouts of alarm rang out, followed by the pounding of feet.

"Stop! Thieves!"

Lucian and Stephanos sprinted across the open ground. The pre-planned escape route was forgotten as they ran blindly, driven by pure survival instinct.

"This way!" Lucian gasped, veering towards a narrow alley.

They ducked into the tight space, the sounds of pursuit close behind. Lucian's lungs burned, his legs screaming with exertion. Beside him, Stephanos wheezed, one hand pressed to his side where the ledger was hidden.

"We can't... keep this up," he panted.

"Got... any ideas?" Lucian managed between gasps.

They emerged from the alley onto a wider street. In the distance, more shouts could be heard - reinforcements joining the chase.

"Split up," Stephanos decided. "I've got the ledger. You lead them away."

Lucian nodded, too winded to argue. "Fisherman's shack?"

"If we make it. Now go!"

They separated, Lucian veering left while Stephanos continued straight ahead. Behind them, their pursuers rounded the corner, momentarily confused by the diverging tracks.

"You three, after that one!" A guard shouted. "The rest with me!"

Lucian pushed himself harder, legs pumping as he raced through the darkened streets. He could hear footsteps behind him, closing in. His mind raced, searching for a way out of this mess.

Ahead, a modest house came into view, its windows dark save for a single candle flickering in an upper room. What caught Lucian's attention, however, was a dress hanging from a line to dry, swaying gently in the breeze.

A desperate plan formed in his mind. Without breaking stride, he shed his dark cloak, letting it fall to the ground behind him. He snatched the dress from the line as he passed, nearly losing his balance in the process. The fabric was still damp, clinging uncomfortably to his skin as he pulled it on over his clothes.

Lucian forced himself to slow his pace and adopted a casual walk, trying to mimic the gait of a woman returning home late. The sound of pursuing footsteps grew closer, and he fought the urge to run.

A group of guards rushed past, barely sparing him a glance. Lucian allowed himself a small sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.

"Hold on," one guard called out, turning back. "What's a maiden doing out at this hour?"

Lucian froze. He turned slowly, keeping his face partially obscured by the dress. When he spoke, he pitched his voice higher, attempting to sound feminine.

"Oh, good evening, kind sirs," he said, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. "I'm just on my way home."

The guard who had spoken approached. "At this time of night? That's highly unusual."

Lucian forced a light laugh, praying it didn't sound as strained to their ears as it did to his own. "Oh, you know how it is. The party ran later than expected. My father will be furious if he finds out."

Another guard joined his comrade. "What party? Where?"

"At... at my friend's house," Lucian improvised. "Her parents are away, and things got a bit out of hand. I really should be getting home..."

The first guard held up a hand. "Not so fast. We're looking for some thieves. You haven't seen any suspicious men running by, have you?"

Lucian shook his head. "No, no suspicious men. Just us girls enjoying some wine and gossip. You know how we can be."

The guards exchanged glances. The second one spoke up, "Remove your veil. Let's see your face."

Panic surged through Lucian, searching for a way out. "I... I couldn't possibly," he stammered. "It wouldn't be proper. What would people say if they saw me unveiled before strange men?"

"This is a matter of city security," the guard insisted. "Show your face or come with us for questioning."

Lucian's hand tightened on the fabric covering his face. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead. In that moment, he made a split-second decision.

With a swift motion, he yanked the veil away, revealing his face. The guards' eyes widened in recognition, their hands moving towards their weapons.

But Lucian was faster and lunged forward, driving two fingers into the nearest guard's eyes.

POINK!

"Ouch! Son of a—"

The man howled in pain, stumbling backward. Lucian seized the opportunity, shoving the injured guard hard into his comrade and the two men went down in a tangle of limbs and curses.

Lucian didn't wait to see if they'd recover quickly, so he spun on his heel and ran, hiking up the skirts of the dress to free his legs.

"It's him! After him!" The shouts echoed behind him.

He sprinted down the street. The dress flapped around his legs, threatening to trip him with every stride. Lucian cursed under his breath, regretting his choice of disguise.

Behind him, he could hear the guards regaining their feet, their angry shouts growing closer. Lucian's eyes darted left and right, searching for an escape route.

A narrow alley appeared ahead, barely visible in the light. Lucian veered towards it, praying it wouldn't lead to a dead end.