After walking through the front entrance of the city, the guards swung the gates open for me without question. I was starting to feel the fatigue from all this walking, and that wasn’t something I normally dealt with. Still, I made my way to Mortan’s blacksmith shop and found the stairs the stable owner had mentioned. Climbing them slowly, I reached the first house on the left. The place was small, ivy creeping along the stone walls, with windows fogged over by age. I knocked on the door, hoping Ms. Shala was home.

A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a frail-looking woman with silver hair and narrow, piercing eyes. She squinted at me, her voice raspy as she asked, “Yes? What do you need?”

Before I could respond, a younger voice called from inside. “Who’s that, Mom?”

A woman, presumably her daughter, stepped into view, opening the door wider. She gave me a brief nod, her gaze curious but not unfriendly.

“Hey,” I began, clearing my throat. “Ms. Shala posted a quest about a missing ring. I was wondering if it could’ve ended up somewhere else.”

The daughter crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. “Yeah, I posted the quest on her behalf. We were out foraging mushrooms in the forest, then came through the front gates. She had the ring with her up until then. I’m sure of it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it was dropped near the stables?”

She let out a sigh. “A group of kids was playing there, and one of them bumped into my mother. She must’ve dropped it at that moment.”

“Or,” I suggested, glancing between the two, “one of those kids might’ve lifted it off her. Did you get a good look at him?”

The older woman’s voice cracked in defence. “He’s no thief! That boy’s my neighbour’s son. I know him.”

“Your neighbour’s kid, huh?” I said, shifting my weight. “He lives nearby?”

The daughter nodded, stepping outside to point down the street. “Two houses over. That one, right there.”

I followed her gesture and nodded in return. “Alright. I’ll check it out and let you know if I find anything.”

“Thanks again,” she said, stepping back inside. “Good luck.”

“Hmm,” I muttered, walking toward the right.

As I approached the house, I pulled my hood up, letting my cape drape over my left arm, blending in with the surroundings. The house stood out from the others—a single-story, much less sturdy, with a cracked window next to the front door. The door itself was made of cheap wood, warped and weathered by time.

Circling around the back, I spotted a small kitchen window. Unlike the others, this one didn’t have curtains, giving me a clear view inside. A man was slouched in a rocking chair, the half-eaten sandwich on his stomach rising and falling with each breath.

The inside of the house was a mess. Dishes piled high in the sink, clothes strewn across the floor, and empty bottles littered the corners of the room. It looked like the man had given up on any sense of order.

“Hmm…” I muttered under my breath, making sure no one was watching as I crept closer to the window. “No sign of any kids.”

That old woman either had no idea what happened to her ring, or it had clearly been swiped. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed unlikely she’d just dropped it. My gut told me the ring was inside this very house.

Turning around, I looked out over the street. From here, I could see the blacksmith’s shop in the distance, along with the nearby graveyard. Sturdy wooden fences lined the edges of the elevated street, meant to keep people from falling.

I circled back to the front, knocking on the door before stepping to the side to peek inside. The man stirred, startled awake, quickly wiping the drool from his chin before shoving the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. He stumbled toward the door, his walk unsteady, and opened it with a bleary look.

We locked eyes, and I gave him a brief nod, keeping my expression neutral. I couldn’t exactly say, “I think your kid stole a ring from the old lady next door, so let me search your house.” Improvising would be the only way to handle this.

“Hello,” I greeted, my tone calm and boring as always. “May I interest you in a piece of advanced technology from my homeland?”

The man squinted, tilting his head in confusion. “Advanced what now?”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“It’s a torch,” I explained, pulling out my phone and turning on the flashlight. “This one doesn’t need fire to burn. It works with… prayers.”

He stepped back, eyes wide in disbelief. “Gods above... what is that?”

“May I come in?” I asked, gesturing toward the open door. “It’ll be easier to explain inside.”

Still staring at the light in awe, he quickly waved me in. “Gods... yes, yes, come on in. That thing is... magnificent!”

As I stepped inside, I scanned the room. It was just as messy as I’d seen from the outside: plates piled high, crumbs scattered across the floor. My gaze locked onto a boy sitting near the kitchen table. He looked rough—messy hair, sharp eyes, and an attitude that screamed trouble. He had the kind of look that instantly reminded me of the bullies from school. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen at most. He wasn’t a kid like Ms. Shala said. Hell, when she told me she bumped into a, ‘kid,’ I thought he’d be like eight or something.

I took a seat near the table, my eyes never leaving the boy. I placed the phone down, its light still illuminating the room.

“As you can see, it doesn’t burn,” I said calmly. “But you can still see in the darkness just as clearly.”

The man, still mesmerised, sat beside me. “What’s... what’s this thing called?”

“Smartphone,” I replied, sliding the phone slightly across the table. “I’m selling it for five gold.”

He blinked, reaching a tentative hand toward the device. “Does the fire... ever run out?”

Before I could answer, the kid broke the silence with a snarl. “Who the hell are you?” His eyes narrowed, full of suspicion. “Father, why are you letting some random weirdo into the house?”

“Shut up, boy!” the man snapped, not even glancing at his son. “Can’t you see the torch he’s holding? It’s... it’s the future!”

Just then, a knock at the door interrupted our little show. The old man muttered under his breath, looking annoyed as he stood to answer it.

“Damn guards again,” he grumbled. “They’ve been asking questions about elves. Probably searching the area again.”

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “No problem.”

As the man moved toward the door, I shifted my attention fully to the kid, who had crossed his arms and was glaring at me from the kitchen counter. He was trying to intimidate me, but I’d seen enough kids like him to know he was just a small-time bully trying to assert dominance.

I stood up slowly, taking a few steps toward him, closing the distance between us. Only a metre separated us now. Neither of us blinked as we locked eyes, the tension thick between us.

“I lied to your father,” I said, my voice calm, yet cold.

The boy scoffed, pushing me hard enough to make me take a step back. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I regained my balance and straightened up, my eyes still locked on his. “This device? It’s not just a torch. It helps me communicate with Rowe herself. The Goddess of Death.”

His sneer faltered for a second, but he quickly recovered, spitting venom with every word. “Suck my dick, weirdo. Get out of here before I throw you out myself.”

“You angered her,” I continued, ignoring his insult. “You should be careful with your words. Rowe doesn’t forgive easily.”

While his face hardened, doubt flickered in his eyes. That was all I needed. I subtly opened the notepad app on my phone behind my back, typing out a few lines quickly.

“You bumped into Ms. Shala,” I said, my tone steady. “And you took her ring.”

“The hell I did,” he snapped, his voice rising. “Even if I did, it’s none of your business, elf-lover. Now get out!”

“You did.” I took a step forward, my voice unshaken. “Stop lying.”

He lunged, shoving me harder this time. My back hit the wall with a thud. “What if I don’t?” he growled. “What’re you gonna do about it, huh?”

My expression remained neutral, unfazed. “You have a foul mouth. It’s rude to speak that way in the presence of a goddess.”

“What goddess?” He cocked an eyebrow, but his voice wavered. “Get out, you freak!”

I tapped the phone and activated the text-to-speech app, watching the screen flicker. Then, after I finished writing a sentence on it, a robotic woman's voice echoed through the room from my phone. “You! You have stolen what you should not have!”

“Gods above! What the hells is that?” The boy’s bravado vanished in an instant. He looked around the room wildly, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. “Who’s there? Is this some kind of trick?”

“You have stolen my ring,” The voice declared, calm and still robotic. “The one I gifted to my subject. Return it, or face the consequences.”

The boy’s hands trembled as he fumbled for something in his pocket. “I... I didn’t mean to—”

“She sent me here,” I said, cutting him off. “Rowe herself pointed me in your direction. She’s very angry.”

Panic flared in his eyes as he yanked a ring from his pocket and slammed it onto the table. “I needed the money, I swear! I... I had to take it.”

The voice from the phone spoke again, this time abruptly cutting off. “Voice assistant trial has ended. Subscribe within the link to see your personal offers.”

“What the...?” The boy’s confusion was clear.

“She says...” I cleared my throat, quickly turning the phone off. “She wants you to stop bullying other kids. Or the consequences will be... severe.”

His eyes widened. “I swear! I swear I’ll change! I’ll never bully anyone again, I swear on the gods!”

“Good,” I muttered, pocketing the ring. “I think we’re done here.”