Charles shut the book. He had discovered a gold mine: the journal of the Nightmare Raider himself! The real question is, what was Lord Nightblood doing with this? Turning to leave the room, Charles opened the door to the vault to find himself staring straight at someone.
Mildly tall, lithe, and well built, a good three inches taller than Charles himself, and possessing a single feature that gave Charles no doubt as to his identity: pitch-black eyes.
Charles stumbled back, falling on his butt. “I… I… uh…”
And then the figure simply vanished, as if it had never been there to begin with. Standing back up, Charles decided to get the hell out of the castle before any other figures of legend came to meet him. Cloaking himself in shadow once more, Charles half-ran back to the room he entered the castle in. Climbing down the grappling hook and jerking the hook off the window’s ledge, he climbed down the castle and slipped into the forest. There's no way in hell he was going to stay in this place after seeing the Nightmare Raider.
Once safely out of the castle, Charles headed back to his home in the village. Two hundred years ago, his village had been at the center of the most famous war in known history. Of course, the term ‘war’ is only a loose definition, as for the most part, it was one man facing the largest nation in the world.
Charles climbed into his house via the window and changed into his pajamas, hiding his thieving gear and the book in his normal spot under the floor. He'd read the rest of the book tomorrow. A firsthand account of the Nightmare Raider’s actions, written by the Raider himself! This was worth a fortune!
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Charles woke up about two hours after dawn. After getting dressed, Charles headed downstairs to eat breakfast. His master looked upon the field of artificing very fondly and would not tolerate Charles being late to the store without a very good reason.
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Right as Charles finished eating, there was a knock on his door. Before he could get up to do anything, the door opened to reveal a rather tall man in a very noble cloak that stretched down nearly to his ankles, and black hair poking out from beneath a hat that covered his eyes.
“Charles Drinerum, correct?”
Charles stared, stupefied. The description and voice matched the profile of Lord Nightblood, during his few visits to the town. “Y-yes sir, that's me.”
“Good. May I come in?”
Charles could practically hear his heart hammering. “Of course, milord. But how can a simple artificer like me help you?”
“I don't require an artificer, Charles. I simply wish to meet the man who had the audacity to steal my journal.”
Charles’ mind shut down for a moment trying to register what Lord Nightblood had said. “Wa-Wait, you're the Nightmare Raider? How?”
Lord Nightblood… no, Selvar Nightblood, smiled as he took off his hat, revealing pitch black eyes. “Yes, I am. Selvar Nightblood, Champion of Night, Lord of Serace, and the Nightmare Raider. Now boy, tell me. How much audacity does it take to steal from a legendary figure known to have wiped an entire country off the face of the world, and who single-handedly stopped an invasion of bizzare creatures hell-bent on destroying the entire race?”
Charles swallowed. “Presumably a lot, sir. It sounds like a monumentally stupid choice.”
Selvar laughed. “You'd be right there.” Selvar stood and walked towards the door, putting his hat back on. “Very masterful use of your ability, I might add. I should know, it was mine as well. Now, best hurry up. You don't want to be late, do you?” And with that, the Nightmare Raider walked out of Charles’ house, leaving behind a very terrified young man.
Charles’ jaw finally dropped, as his mind finally realized what had happened. He had stolen from the Nightmare Raider… and lived.