Linus froze, his instincts flaring as the creak of a door echoed through the silence. Though subtle, the sound reverberated like a crack of thunder in the stillness. His heart hammered in his chest as his mind raced—had the guard doubled back? Had someone else detected his presence?

The sound came again, softer this time, followed by a shuffling noise. Linus shifted his weight imperceptibly, his body melting further into the shadows. His eyes flicked to the small crack beneath the door, where faint light spilled unevenly from the corridor.

A shape moved, crossing the sliver of light.

But then came a low, irritated murmur, followed by the distinct clink of glass against wood. Linus let out a hushed breath. Just another guest stirring, perhaps to fetch a drink or visit the privy. The inn’s familiar creaks and groans resumed their muted symphony, the distant sounds of sleep-heavy occupants blending into the hum of the night.

Still, Linus didn’t move immediately. He waited, counting each agonizing second until the hallway’s quiet returned to an unbroken calm. Satisfied, he straightened slightly and returned to the task at hand.

These scattered papers and open trunks were distractions as Linus's real purpose lay elsewhere. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the Veilstone Charm, its cool metal smooth against his palm. Holding it up to the dim, flickering light of the room, he murmured, “Let’s see what you’ve been hiding.”

Linus held his breath as the amulet stirred, its glow spreading like a whisper of power across the room. The light seemed almost alive, dancing along the edges of his vision, and the air hummed with an intensity that set his nerves on edge. The pulse that coursed through his fingertips was steady, insistent—like a heartbeat that wasn’t his own

His gaze swept across the room before settling on a specific spot in the floorboards, a slight shift in the shadows catching his attention. The amulet’s light grew brighter, almost as if reacting to something hidden there. Linus’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. Whatever was concealed, the charm had just revealed its presence.

Stepping forward, he focused all his attention on the spot, the amulet’s glow reflecting in his dark eyes. Linus knelt, tracing the outline of the floorboards with his fingers, and a slight warmth seeped into his skin, carrying a strange, buzzing energy that made his hand tremble. The charm seemed to tug at him, urging him forward like a hushed command. Linus hesitated—was this intuition, or was the magic toying with him? Gritting his teeth, he pressed the amulet against the wood. The muted click that followed sent a jolt of triumph through him, but it was tinged with unease. The floorboards shifted slowly, revealing a dark space below.

His pulse quickened. This was it.

Linus’s breath hitched, his fingers trembling against the edges of the concealed compartment. Nestled within was a box unlike anything he’d seen before—its dark wood carved with runes that seemed to hum faintly under his gaze. The symbols were ancient, meaning eluding him, yet the sheer craftsmanship radiated power. He reached out, hesitating briefly before his fingers closed around the cool, smooth edges. The box felt heavier than he expected.

He opened the box with reverence, revealing a piece of parchment inside. The parchment was aged and delicate, its edges frayed from time. As he unfolded it, he saw that it was a fragment of a larger map, the details meticulously drawn and annotated. His breath caught in his throat as he recognized the markings—the fragment could be part of the map leading to the Phoenix Blade.

Linus's mind raced with excitement. This fragment was a crucial piece of the puzzle, a step closer to unlocking the secrets of the Phoenix Blade. He carefully folded the parchment and placed it securely in his pocket, knowing that this discovery could change everything.

Satisfied with his find, Linus replaced the floorboards and ensured the room looked as undisturbed as possible. He slipped the Veilstone Charm back into his pocket, its glow fading as the magic dissipated.

As he prepared to leave the room, he heard faded footsteps approaching. His instincts sharpened, and he quickly looked for a hiding spot. Spotting a slim alcove near the window, he moved silently and pressed himself into the darkness.

The faint creak of the door sent a chill racing down Linus’s spine, igniting a surge of adrenaline that had him poised for an immediate attack. He pressed deeper into the shadows as two figures stepped into the room, their actions fluid and purposeful. The tall one moved first, his broad shoulders casting long shadows in the dim light. His mask, etched with geometric designs, seemed to devour the light around it. The second figure, a woman with a lithe, predatory grace, lingered near the door. Her mask was different—its curves adorned with symbols that shimmered faintly, almost like a living spell.

Linus’s stomach tightened. Whoever they were, they weren’t ordinary thieves.

Linus stayed perfectly still, his breath shallow as he watched the pair. They moved like wolves hunting prey, their eyes scrutinizing every corner of the room with precision. The man knelt near the floorboards, running his hands over the seams, while the woman traced her fingers along the walls, her dagger glinting ominously at her side. Linus’s pulse thundered in his ears, but he didn’t dare move. Their frustration was palpable—the woman’s movements grew sharper, her breath audible in the heavy silence. Yet they missed the one shadow that mattered.

"They must have already taken what they needed," the man irritatedly said.

"Keep looking," the woman replied sharply. "There has to be something we missed."

Linus’s eyes narrowed as he followed their activities as they swept the room with predatory precision. His heart pounded, but he remained perfectly still. He watched as the woman approached the spot where he was hidden, her eyes surveying the dimly lit corner.

For a moment, Linus thought she had sensed him. She stepped closer, close enough that he could see the faint glimmer of her eyes behind the mask. Her hand hovered over the hilt of a dagger at her side, her movements slow, deliberate. Linus’s muscles tensed, ready to strike if she discovered him. His fingers twitched, prepared to summon his shadow magic and lash out if she got closer.

Stolen story; please report.

The woman hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she studied the darkness where Linus was obscured. The room was silent, and the tension was palpable. Linus’s breath was shallow, his senses alert, and every fiber of his being coiled and ready to pounce.

But then, as if deciding it wasn’t worth the effort, she pulled back, turning her attention to the floorboards a few feet away. Linus silently exhaled, his posture relaxing slightly, but his eyes never left her.

After several more minutes of fruitless searching, the masked figures exchanged frustrated glances. The woman straightened up, brushing her hand through her hair in a gesture of annoyance, while the man shook his head and clenched his fists.

"Let's go back," the man said quietly, his voice resigned. "There's nothing here."

They nodded to each other and moved towards the door, leaving the room as silently as they had entered, unaware of the shadow that had been watching them all along.

The two spies exited the room, closing the door softly behind them. Linus remained motionless, waiting until he was sure they were gone. Only then did he step out from his hiding spot, his senses on high alert.

Linus froze as he stepped into the corridor, his breath catching. A dark pool spread across the floor, glinting faintly in the dim light, leading his gaze upward to the guard’s lifeless body. The man lay crumpled, and a dagger buried deep in his chest, the ornate hilt gleaming like a cruel signature. The guard’s vacant eyes locked onto the ceiling, his lips parted in a noiseless scream that would never be heard. Linus suppressed a shiver, forcing himself to look away.

Linus’s heart quickened, but his face remained impassive. The sight of the dead guard only confirmed his danger and urgency. With a hushed breath, he slipped back into the shadows, his form merging seamlessly with the darkness. He had to act quickly; every moment wasted could mean losing track of the new set of spies.

Linus crept down the corridor silently, his senses straining for the faintest sound of pursuit. The cool night air hit him as he slipped out of the inn, but it did little to ease the tight tension in his chest. Lanterns cast flickering patches of light across the streets, their uneven glow painting long, restless shadows. Linus moved like a whisper, blending into the darkness as his eyes darted toward every alley, every window, every place danger might lurk.

Linus caught sight of them up ahead, two dark shapes weaving through the twisting streets with unnerving precision. Their movements were swift and fluid, like predators that knew the terrain intimately. He followed at a careful distance, his footsteps muffled by years of practice, every muscle taut with anticipation. The faded echo of their boots against stone reached his ears, and he matched their rhythm, his body melting into the shadows that lined the narrow passageways.

As they navigated the darkened alleys, Linus felt a cold determination settle over him. He was determined to find out whatever the spies were after, whatever secrets they held.

A few minutes into the pursuit, a faint, high-pitched whistle pierced the stillness, immediately capturing the spies' attention. They halted abruptly, their bodies rigid as their eyes darted around, scrutinizing the vicinity. Linus stopped, too, pressing himself flat against the wall of a nearby building, merging seamlessly into the darkness. The spies exchanged quick hand signals, their expressions alert and wary.

In a sudden, fluid motion, one of them pulled a small vial from beneath their cloak and hurled it away from where Linus was hidden. The glass shattered on impact, releasing a blinding light that flared across the street. Linus instinctively turned his head, avoiding the worst of the glare, but he knew it would be impossible to move without drawing attention. Taking advantage of the confusion, the spies bolted in the opposite direction.

Linus swore under his breath, immediately suspecting a third operative was nearby, acting as a lookout. As he darted behind a corner to avoid detection, an orb exploded high above, flooding the area with an unnatural, searing brightness. The entire street lit up, shadows shrinking away as the intense light washed over everything, casting harsh, defined lines across the cobblestones.

“Shit,” Linus hissed, his mind racing. His shadow veil, which had served him well so far, was now rendered almost useless. He examined his surroundings, quickly realizing the alley offered little in the way of shelter, and the relentless light was steadily erasing the cover he relied on.

Just as he moved toward a stack of barrels, hoping to use them as a temporary shield, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Instinct kicked in, and he glanced upward, spotting a small, shiny object—a light orb—descending fast. Without hesitation, Linus lunged to the side, twisting mid-air to propel himself from where he had been crouching.

The orb struck the ground with a thud, and light surged outward in a blinding wave, searing Linus’s vision even as he twisted away. A forceful shockwave hit him a split second later, flinging fragments of wood and stone in every direction. He hit the ground hard, rolling instinctively to absorb the impact, his skin stinging from the blast’s heat. The ringing in his ears drowned out all other sounds as he clawed his way to his feet, blinking furiously against the afterimage burned into his sight. He blinked furiously, struggling to clear his vision from the searing afterglow.

As his sight gradually returned, he quickly surveyed the street, searching for any sign of the fleeing spies. The explosion had thrown the entire area into chaos; windows flew open, and half-dressed townspeople peered out, their faces contorted with confusion and fear. The persistent, eerie glow from the orb continued to flood the streets, making it impossible for Linus to hide.

Linus clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. He could already hear the remote shouts of city guards, growing louder as they rushed toward the source of the commotion. The spies had proven themselves far more resourceful than he had anticipated, and now his options were rapidly dwindling.

Linus’s heart pounded as he pressed himself into the nearest patch of darkness, inspecting the street. The blazing light robbed him of his greatest advantage, exposing him to every watchful eye. He gritted his teeth, his mind racing through potential escape routes. The growing murmur of the crowd and the faraway clamor of guards tightened the noose around him. He couldn’t afford to linger a second longer. He quickly scanned his surroundings, noting the alleyways and darkened corners that still lingered in the edges of the light's reach. His mind raced through potential escape routes, planning his next move as he remained perfectly still, waiting for the right moment to slip away.

He couldn’t risk confrontation now; it was time to disappear into the night.

Linus darted deeper into the maze of alleys, an urgency gnawing at him, a relentless drumbeat urging him forward. He glanced over his shoulder, catching the flicker of lanterns and the clink of armor. They were closing in. Each turn, each shadowed corner, became a lifeline. Sweat dampened his brow, but he pushed on, his steps lighter than a whisper. If he didn’t disappear now, the city walls would become his prison.

He ducked into a side alley, senses on high alert as he navigated the streets. The clatter of armor and shouted orders grew louder, a stark reminder that the guards were closing in. Linus quickened his pace, moving through a series of interconnected courtyards, his form blending seamlessly into the dark.

His thoughts churned in frustration—Were they additional agents from Sorenputhra, or did they belong to another faction entirely? The implications were troubling. If more spies were in play, it meant other parties were aware of the Phoenix Blade and actively hunting for it. He couldn’t afford to be careless—not with this fragment in his possession.

As he retreated further into the darkened alleyways, Linus’s thoughts whirled. Had the third spy been tracking him from the start, concealed among the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to intervene? Or had they been stationed at a vantage point, silently observing everything that transpired?

He needed to leave the area, but the night's events had left him with more questions than answers—and a growing sense of unease about who else was hunting for the same secrets he sought.