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Chapter 3 - Petty Thief

Solis, holding a bag of canned goods, bread, and other produce, walked through the busy main street of Heliopolis. Despite his small stature and his youth showing clearly on his face, Solis walked around as though no one in the crowd would ever dare touch him. He walked his his head held high and his nose slightly raised.

A sudden cry from beyond the crowd drew his attention, and he raced through the gaps between citizens to see a man, dressed in all black with a balaclava covering his face, snatching an elderly woman's purse in broad daylight. The woman with the tattered dress cried for help, but no one helped her, instead choosing to pretend they hadn't seen anything.

"He, lady, hold this." Solis gave the woman his paper bag of food and raced off after the bandit.

I need to get out of this crowd... I can't use mage powers with all of the witnesses.

Solis continued his pursuit of the thief until he reached a lonely alleyway. A big mistake on his part.

Solis stuck his foot out, as if trying to grasp a ladder, and shifted his weight onto the foot in the air. His body balanced on thin air and he began to run while floating. This was the power of a Stage 10 Lightwalker, Light Treading!

I can hold this for 10 seconds. Better make it quick.

He chased after the thief towards a dead-end street of niche book shops and art supply stores. Thin vines of light spread out from the gutter and cracks in the stone pavement, wrapping around the thief's legs. A Stage 9 Solar Supplicant's Light Binding! The thief hit the floor, peering down at his trapped legs, shouting in rage.

Seven seconds.

Solis, floating above his target, aimed his pointer finger at the man on the ground with his thumb pointed upward. A small fragment of light materialised at the end of his finger. A look of despair flashed across the thief's eyes, terrified of the boy who was floating above him, defying all human logic.

"Good work, kid. We'll take it from here." A mature male voice came from behind him, and Solis turned to see two more men walking over the store's roofs wearing a white suit with a yellow tie. They were members of the Church's Inquisition.

"Ok." The boy stated plainly. Solis fell through the air and landed deftly in front of the wriggling bandit, grabbing the old lady's purse and walking through the alleyway just as he had once come through.

The two men looked at each other, each unsure of what to do. "That kid... How is he a Stage 9? He can't be older than 13."

"His parents could be mages, or maybe the Church decided to give him the potions for whatever reason. Focus on the task at hand; I'm sure the Church higher-ups know what they're doing."

They lept from the store roof and grabbed the thief before taking off into the air, running as easily as if they were on solid ground, racing high above the market district.

Solis retraced his steps, and eventually found the old lady from before, exchanging purse with grocery bag.

"Thank you, young man. I'm forever grateful." The lady's aged voice struggled to convey her gratitude.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Don't worry about it, Ma'am. It's my duty as a mag- uh, man of this city!" He placed his fists on his hips and smiled triumphantly.

"Ohoho. I see. How lucky we are to have you on our side."

He hurried home, passing the various buildings and weaving through racing carriages on the cracked stone roads. The boy ran through the cafe and restaurant district, reading to jump out of the way of anyone in his path. As he was looking around, an old man - one he could have sworn wasn't there before - appeared in his path, and Solis ran into his back, nearly knocking the poor old soul right over.

"Sir! Are you ok? I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"That's quite alright, child. I'm fine." The man turned around, revealing his features. He was slightly hunched over, his wrinkles approximating his age around 75, with ocean-blue eyes and a slightly crooked nose. On his left eye sat a gold-rimmed crystal monocle displaying a myriad of colours and reflecting Solis' figure. Looking at it hurt his head.

Of the million or so residents of the large Heliopolis, Solis hadn't seen one person with a monocle in his 13 years living here!

He apologised again and resumed his return home, slower this time.

Behind him, the old man adjusted his monocle with his left hand, tilted his head back, and gazed at the gleaming Sun. The people in the cafe he had exited from, both customer and waiter, reached into their pockets and pulled out a crystal monocle, placed it over their left eye, tilted their head back, and each gazed at the Sun, all with sly grins on their faces.

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"Old man, I'm back with the groceries!" The young lad called out, to no response. "Guess he's out."

He sat down and nibbled on some of the sweets and chocolates he had treated himself to - with the old man's money, of course - and lounged on the couch.

He peered outside, his hair getting slightly drenched by the rain. Droplets fell from the sky despite the bright day.

"Haha. The Sun is crying."

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In a dark dungeon beneath the Cathedral of Light, two men in simple white dress pants and shirts with sleeves rolled up past their shoulders, slipping their hands into latex white gloves, stood in front of a simple wooden chair with a man tied down by vines of light. The man's eyes were threatening to roll back into his head and blood ran from his nostrils.

"It's not that hard, young man. Just tell us where you got that potion." One of his torturers closed in on him, stepping on his foot and crushing it to mush. With a hand dressed in a latex white glove, he covered the young man's mouth, preventing his screams from echoing throughout the dark room.

"I-I-I swear I don't know. He never gave me a name."

"What name did he give you? What did he look like? Come on, Collin. How many damn times do I have to ask you?!"

"H-he said to call him the 'Jes-" The pained man's voice cut off and his head exploded, bursting into a spectacular array of crimson liquid and small, slimy orangey-brown tentacle fragments. As his blood flowed down the chair and onto the floor, a greyish-white liquid separated from the pool of blood, congregating next to the blood and bubbling slightly.

"A triggered bomb. Saying the man's name must have set it off. Dammit!"

"What should we do with it? Wait 'til it turns into a Token, or turn it into a relic?"

"He was quite upset when he died. His remnant spirit could cause some nasty side-effects, but it would also be very useful to the Church's arsenal variety." The man ruminated for a few seconds, before adding, "I saw we make it into a Relic. Do you have anything on you?"

The torturer's partner took a step forward and dropped a spare key into the sludge. The grey liquid rose from the floor slightly like a starving animal trying to grasp food, swallowing the key.

After a few minutes of waiting, the sludge merged with the key, turning the key greyish-white. The man in white who had dropped the key picked it up again and turned to his partner.

"The Key of Many Ways.

Affects: Allows wielder to unlock any door that has been locked by regular means, and grants wielder far increased ability to steal small items from things like purses and pockets.

Negative Affects: After wielding for more than 1 hour, wielder with experience extreme kleptomania. When used for more than 1 hour each day, wielder will experience permanent increase in desire to steal.

Sealing Method: Surrounded by items of high value, such as in a container of gold coins.

Level of Intelligence: Very Low

Corresponds to Stage 10 of Trickery channel, Thief."

"Alright, it's not too bad. The side effects are less extreme than I had imagined - due to its low Stage, I assume. Let's go see Bishop Riley and have it recorded in the system and sealed away."

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