For a few days, the four boys remained in the attic, waiting patiently for Arelos to give the all-clear. Inside their dusty sanctuary, the air was thick with anticipation interspersed with the occasional joke or story shared to pass the time. Neither Viktor nor Arelos pressed the twins for details about their escapade, an unspoken understanding resting between them. Arelos, having little interest in the messy specifics, left Viktor to his own musings, who chose wilful ignorance over knowing whose lives were affected by their night's work.

Finally, the awaited moment came when Arelos declared it safe enough to venture back into the bustling streets of Lycona. The twins, eager to convert their haul into much-needed coins, gathered the stolen goods with practiced efficiency. Fenric, a grin playing at his lips, reached for the wooden mug once more, only for Arelos to swipe it from his grasp with an incredulous look, placing it firmly back on the floor.

Fenric shrugged, his nonchalance intact, and continued bundling the rest of their haul without protest.

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Viktor, Arelos, and the twins made their way through the bustling streets of Lycona, the morning sun casting a warm golden hue over the city. Their destination was Faros' place, an unassuming house nestled discreetly among others, its presence marked by overgrown ivy embracing the entrance like a vigilant guard.

Along the way, Viktor briefed the twins on their plan. "Remember," he instructed, his voice calm yet firm, "I'll do the talking. Just let me handle it." Fenric and Soren nodded, their expressions a mix of eagerness and determination.

Reaching the house, Viktor stepped forward and knocked on the door, the wooden surface giving off a hollow thud. Tension flickered between them as they waited, and soon enough, the door creaked open. A large, gruff man stood before them, his posture echoing suspicion as if weighing their purpose there.

"What d’you lot want?" the man grumbled, a whiff of stale alcohol hanging heavily on his breath.

Viktor met his gaze steadily, donning a disarming smile. "Is Faros around? We’ve got something he might be interested in." His tone was composed, giving nothing away beyond simple confidence.

The mention of business seemed to relax the man's stance, though his expression remained skeptical. "Alright," he said after a pause, deciding to give them the benefit of the doubt. "I'll get him. Come in and wait here." He ushered them inside and disappeared down the hallway, his footsteps resonating along the floorboards.

Moments later, Faros appeared, his presence radiating charm mixed with an underlying edge. His gaze lingered on Viktor, his brow furrowing slightly as he clearly struggled to place him. A flicker of recognition finally sparked in his eyes, and his expression shifted to a smooth smile. "Ah, my young associates from before," he greeted, his voice woven with affability. "To what do I owe this pleasure today?"

Viktor gestured lightly to the bundle Fenric held. "We've come across a few items that might interest you," he replied simply, his tone cautious yet assured.

Faros's gaze flicked to the bundle, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Well, let's have a look then," he said.

Fenric stepped forward and placed the bundle on the table, carefully unfurling the cloth to reveal the contents.

Faros appraised the goods with expert precision, his fingers brushing over each piece thoughtfully. "Interesting selection," he murmured, his attention focused intently on the haul. "Seems your night was productive."

Fenric, his eyes twinkling with excitement at the prospect of an audience, began to speak animatedly, "Oh, you have no idea—" But before he could continue, Arelos swiftly smacked him over the head with a warning glare, "This is not the time or place," he hissed.

Fenric froze, his jaw dropping in exaggerated disbelief. "Did—did you just hit me? No one hits me!" he declared, indignant and affronted as if the very idea was an insult to his existence.

Just then, Soren stepped in, giving Fenric another smack to emphasize the point. "Zip it, Fen. We’re not here for a show," he muttered.

"Bloody rein it in, will ya?" Viktor snapped at them, his voice low and firm, trying to keep the situation under control. He quickly turned back to Faros with an apologetic smile. "You'll have to forgive my associates," he said, his tone lighthearted. "A bit over eager, if you will."

Faros chuckled softly, seeming completely unfazed by the twins' antics. "No worries," he said, brushing off the interruption with an air of familiarity. "I've seen my fair share of enthusiastic young associates in this line of work." His fingers danced over the silverware, rings, and necklace laid out on the table, his gaze sharp with practiced appraisal.

The necklace caught his attention for a prolonged moment. He held it up, letting the light catch the fine details of its craftsmanship. "Nice piece, this one," he murmured, more to himself than to the boys.

After a thorough assessment of the items, Faros looked up, his expression calculating yet nonchalant. "Twelve silvers and fifteen coppers," he offered, his tone matter-of-fact.

Viktor glanced at Arelos, hoping for some guidance. Arelos gave a slight shrug, expression neutral. "Seems alright," Arelos said, reluctant to commit either way. "But honestly, I can’t be sure."

The twins exchanged uncertain looks. With the guild usually handling these matters, their grasp of the value was vague at best. Fenric scratched his head, mumbling, "Never had to think ‘bout this before."

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Viktor, deciding there was little to gain by pressing the matter further, turned back to Faros. "Deal," he said, extending a hand.

Faros clasped Viktor’s hand with a firm grip. "Pleasure doin’ business," Faros said, casual yet slightly guarded. From his pocket, he fished out the coins, counting them with swift precision before handing the pile to Viktor.

Viktor nodded, tucking the coins away as relief settled in. Just as he motioned for the others to follow him out, Faros's voice stopped him short. "You know, if you’re interested, there’s more where that came from," Faros offered, his voice low and inviting. "With a bit of nerve, you could make much, much more."

Viktor opened his mouth to refuse Faros flatly, eager to cut off any prospect of entanglement with a man so deeply rooted in shady dealings. But before he could give voice to his refusal, Fenric’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What’s the job?” Fenric asked, his eyes reflecting a blend of intrigue and mischief.

Viktor shot Fenric a warning look, his eyes practically drilling into the twin with a clear message to hold his tongue. Fenric, unbothered by the glare, simply gave a challenging smirk, inciting Viktor’s frustration to simmer just beneath the surface.

Before Viktor could cancel the twins' query, Faros spoke again, halting Viktor’s words mid-thought. "Rogo Morgavos," Faros said, leaning back with a casual air, "a merchant operating out of the Velvet District."

The name echoed, hitting Viktor like a bolt, freezing him in place. He struggled to mask his surprise, an effort not unnoticed by Faros, whose eyes twinkled with curiosity. The room fell into a momentary quiet as Viktor processed this unexpected development.

Before Faros could elaborate further, Arelos intervened, surprising everyone with his smooth shift into negotiation mode. "What's the objective? What's the payout? And what are the rules and conditions we’d be working under?" he inquired, his voice steady and professional, cutting through the silence with practiced ease.

The twins shifted their focus to Arelos, their mouths slightly agape, impressed by his sudden assertiveness and the revealed sharpness in his tone.

Faros leaned back, amusement playing on his features. "Interesting," he observed, his eyes fixing on Arelos. "I might need to keep an eye on you," he added with a hint of a humor.

Viktor, regaining his composure, chimed in, "What exactly is this job about?" trying to steady the conversation.

Faros chuckled softly, seeming to enjoy the attention. "It's simple, really," he began, but before he could continue, Viktor interrupted.

"Look, we're not here to get tangled up in anything heavy," Viktor said, the words tumbling out in one rushed breath. "Just spell out the details."

Faros paused, studying them carefully as if weighing their potential. "It's not heavy, if you have the stomach for a little risk," he said finally, a challenge lacing his words.

Faros leaned forward, measuring the boys with a calculating look. "Listen," he began in a low, authoritative voice, "what I'm about to tell you stays between us. You don’t want to make an enemy of me, or anyone I work with. Understood?"

Arelos unfazed, met Faros's gaze without hesitation. "Obviously. Now let's hear it."

Faros chuckled at Arelos’s audacity. "Morgavos has been getting real cozy with one of our competitors as of late," he explained. "He keeps a sealed letter in his study—a letter we want."

Arelos fixed Faros with a steady look and asked, "Is this deal exclusive?" His voice was calm, almost inquisitive.

Faros nodded, his demeanor unwavering. "Yes," he said, "If you take on this job, you've got seven days to complete it. And make no mistake, once you accept, you’d better see it through to the end. Get caught, you say nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing about this meeting or my name. You understand me?"

Arelos acknowledged Faros's warning with a nod. "Understood. Any specific conditions?" he inquired, maintaining his composure.

"The letter must stay sealed, delivered to us within twenty-four hours of execution. It gives us time to act before any counter-moves can be made," Faros replied, folding his hands in front of him.

Arelos listened intently, then asked, "And any ground rules?"

"The usual," Faros began, his voice taking on a casual edge. "Anything else that goes missing from the manor during the job is yours. No strings attached. I'll even handle any extra finds personally. You get the contract, you get the exclusivity, and it's yours alone for a week. Just remember, if you slip and spill anything, you might as well as end your own existence right there and then, it'll be more pleasant that way."

Arelos took a moment to absorb the conditions, then spoke up, "And the payout? What are we looking at?"

Faros leaned forward, a touch of intrigue in his voice. "The guild's willing to pay 1 gold and 10 silver."

Viktor hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea and on the verge of turning it down, when Arelos quickly countered, "We'll do the job for 2 gold and 15 silver."

Faros considered the counteroffer with a bemused expression before replying, "We can go as high as 2 gold and 5 silver."

Without hesitation, Arelos nodded. "Deal. We'll take it."

Arelos meticulously questioned Faros, extracting every bit of useful information the fence's guild had gathered. The Manor's exact location, a rough estimate of the staff count, their work schedules, and potential entry points were all noted with precision. Viktor observed with a mix of admiration and apprehension, impressed by Arelos's attention to detail yet wary of the venture's inherent risks.

Once Arelos was satisfied with the information they had extracted, the group took their leave. As they stepped back into the bright streets, Faros's last words echoed in their minds: "Seven days, boys. I'll be counting."

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The sunlight seemed both welcoming and warning as they paused to gather their thoughts. Fenric, ever eager, broke the silence first. "Arelos, you was brilliant in there! Didn’t know you had it in ya, mate!" he exclaimed, genuinely impressed by Arelos's negotiation skills.

Soren echoed his brother's sentiment, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you handled that like a pro."

Arelos glanced at them briefly before turning to Viktor. His face was serious but not without a tinge of guilt. "Viktor," he began, his voice steady, "I know this doesn't sit right with you, and I jumped the gun. If you want out, I'd understand."

Viktor hesitated. "You really surprised me back there," he admitted, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "Didn't think you'd take on something so risky." His voice held a mix of admiration and concern.

"It is risky," Arelos replied, his expression serious. "But the moment I heard that man's name, it made my blood boil."

Viktor raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. "I can never quite read you, Arelos. But sitting out isn't an option for me. Still, not sure how comfortable I am with stealing."

Arelos smirked slightly, a rare show of emotion. "Even from a lowlife like him?"

A chuckle escaped Viktor. "Framed like that, I guess I'm less torn about it."

Arelos addressed Viktor directly, his tone straightforward. "Good, because we’re going to need your... talents on this one," he stated firmly, his eyes flicking to the twins.

Viktor smiled knowingly, understanding the hidden message. "Yeah, I get it," he replied, nodding in agreement. "I'll do my part."

With the decision made, Viktor turned to look at the twins, his eyebrows raised, an unspoken question visible in his eyes. He needed to be sure they were ready for the plan they were about to embark on.

Fenric didn’t make him wait long for an answer. He grinned widely, a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. "Course we’re in," he declared confidently. "Breaking into places, sneakin' about—it’s what we're best at."

Soren nodded in agreement, his younger yet quieter demeanor conveying agreement through a small, affirmative nod. "Yeah," he added. "Don’t worry ‘bout us, Vik. We know our stuff."