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Without moving, Wander quested through the entire fortress.

His Curiosity itched at even the smallest secret, but there was one which stood above the rest. That one was especially bothersome, lying at the heart of the keep. He had to get it. After all, it most likely was what he was after.

Wander left his hiding spot and approached the fortress. Guards patrolled every corner, getting inside would not be easy. He rounded from a distance, hiding in the streets and alleys that surrounded the building. Moonlight as his guide, he stalked his prey.

These Rendareans had fallen for it. ‘Embassy’, Wander thought, shattering fools. A spy base at the centre of their capital and everyone called it an embassy. And nobody knew about it. Well, some did. Guess the Eye can be blind sometimes. Maybe the Blade was more useful than he thought.

No. Those fools waste their time with politics rather than getting things done. They asked him to do the most important task, the one that meant progress. They probably thought he was doing their bidding. No shattering way, Wander thought, I’m doing this for myself.

Wander hid between two squat buildings; he had reached the northern side of the keep. The stone wall lay just a few steps away from him, across the street. From his position, he could see a window large enough for him to go through, about the same height as the roof of one of the buildings he was using as cover. He flowed to the top, his footsteps silent in the night. He studied what he could see through the window, but there was complete darkness. Stretching his Curiosity, he felt some secrets within the room. Some kind of storage perhaps. Maybe archives of some sort.

He glanced down the building to the street which divided him from his destination. It was not that far. He could leap across the gap and go through the window. Only thing, he had to remain unseen.

Guards patrolled the street beneath him. Rendarean guards, in their red robes and silver plates. They were probably unaware of the business that went inside this ‘embassy’. None of them wore the brass and blue. None wore the Eye.

He waited for a lull in their patrol. A slight miss-step, a moment to catch their breath. Most of these things were about timing. True skill didn’t come from a wide set of abilities, however useful they were. His greatest ability came from careful observation. And knowing when to take the chance. Now.

Wander leapt across the street, crashed against the window, and rolled to a stop inside the dark room.

There was no noise of course. No shattering, sparkling, or cracking of glass. Not when he held his Silence around him. Knowing his timing was his greatest skill, of course, but a wide set of abilities did make some things easier. He had to be careful to not be seen, but he was blunted sure he would not be heard.

He rose to a crouch within the room. Not archives. Beds covered the room in two straight lines to his sides, people sleeping on them, their heads to the walls. Barracks. They had itched his Curiosity. After all, what were people but meat bags full of secrets?

Wander sneaked to the door that opposed the window. But he stopped for a brief moment; something had caught his eye. A small pendant lay on a nightstand. A pendant in the shape of an eye. The Wise Eye.

He could kill all of them and nobody would notice. Slit their throats one by one. But what good would it do to him? Though the Blinding Blade would be grateful if he did. I shouldn’t waste my time.

Kneeling, he rested his ear on the varnished door, trying to catch some movement on the other side. He quested with his Curiosity to see if any secrets moved around, but he had met someone with no secrets once. He wasn’t taking any chances. Still, he doubted that these were the kind of people who had nothing to hide. Once he knew the place lay clear, he opened the door and walked into the crystal-lit corridor.

Staying close to the wall, Wander quested through the keep again. The pulsing, itching sensation at the back of his head came from a single location beneath. His target. The collective effort to keep whatever it was secret from anyone had lit the way for him. Now he had to take it.

To his right, a curving staircase led to the ground floor. Crystals in small sconces lit the way downstairs. No guards to be seen, but he could cast a shadow. As he descended, he leaned close to each crystal, resting his hand on it. “Quo,” he whispered. Barely audible, just a murmur was enough. And the crystal slowly lost its glow. The room darkened with each crystal he deactivated.

The ground floor here consisted mainly of tables and chairs, shelves and drawers. Some kind of administrative office. In hindsight, Wander should have studied the layout beforehand. Would have made the sneaking in part easier. Well, no turning back now. Better get the thing and leave.

Led by his Curiosity, Wander moved towards his target. He walked until he was… above it. He sighed. Now he had to find a way down. But that was just another secret.

Closing his eyes, he let his Curiosity fill the space around him. He felt his body being slightly tugged from different directions, as if whatever lay there called to him. Most prominently was the one beneath his feet. But there were others. Most were minor, easy to ignore. Those led to the shelves or cupboards by the wall. A feast for the Blade, perhaps, but of no interest to him.

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There was another itch though, different from the rest. It led to a large painting that covered most of the wall it hung on. Wander recognized the scene. A man, robed in white with a brass mask covering his face, flying above a city in ruins, gazing straight ahead. His eyes looked as if they pierced the mind of any who stared at it. Graceful and brilliant, the man was a stark contrast to the bleakness of the ruins below. So-Phell revelled in his ‘godhood’, and he wanted everyone to call him God-King of Phoelles. Even in the capital of the Rendarean Empire. All Wander could think of was what had frightened So-Phell so much he had to hide it in here. Perhaps it was dangerous enough that it could kill this ‘god’.

Which meant it could kill Wander as well. And here he was, stealing it from So-Phell’s control. He didn’t even have it in his hands, but he could feel his revenge getting closer.

To his disappointment though, there was no hidden doorway behind the painting.

Shatters.

Wander hung the painting back in its place. Why did his Curiosity itch then? Where was the secret? He studied the figure. The clothes. The mask. The way it gazed forwards… He followed the figure’s line of sight, which fell upon a tall wardrobe straight ahead.

The wardrobe’s door wouldn’t budge. So, Silence tightly around him, Wander kicked it. Still closed, and barely scratched. With a silent sigh, he began searching through one of his pouches. Various crystals lay inside it, of various colours, and each with its rune. Etten, Quo, Phos… None of these. Here. The crystal had a dark, yellowish tint to it; its rune a downwards-pointing arrow-like pattern.

With his left hand, Wander placed the crystal flat against the hard wooden door. “Sil,” he murmured. It gave a slight glow, then faded. Wander struck the door with his other hand, piercing through the once tough wood as if it were paper thin. Pulling at the weakened wood, he tore a hole big enough to walk through.

Inside it, a narrow stone staircase led underground. There was his hidden doorway. He looked at the painting again. Most of the time the secret was the key, not the treasure.

Wander placed the Sil crystal within the pouch and stepped into the staircase, making his way downwards. He stretched his Curiosity, trying to determine if other people guarded his target. But whatever he was looking for was too big of a secret. Close as he was to his target, he couldn’t determine if there were other secrets in the same room. He had to be careful.

The stairs led to a stone, crystal-lit corridor, wide enough for two people to walk comfortably. Beyond it lay a wooden door. And on the other side, if his Curiosity did not falter, his target.

Wander aimed towards one of the crystals by the wall. As soon as he was about to touch the crystal, the door swung open. Wander raced towards the man who entered. One quick jab to the chin was enough to knock him out cold.

He peered at the room, and noticed another hallway. Steps marched towards his location and Wander hid behind the doorway. As soon as a face came within his vision, he struck out.

A strike to the neck left his foe gasping for air. But from the other side of the door charged another guard. Wander pushed the still breathless guard, and dodged the incoming sword. He reached for his hip, where his dagger was. Or should have been. Shatters!

Aiming for the chin, Wander struck again, knocking the guard backwards, sword slipping from his grip. He fetched the sword and turned around to face the guard still clutching his throat, pulling his sword from its sheath. The guard swung at Wander, but he sidestepped and stabbed at his throat. Blood spurted out, covering his brass-coloured mail and blue robes. While the guard bled to death, Wander slipped the throat of the others lying on the floor.

If news of this theft reached So-Phell… if he figured out someone was after him… he had to be quick.

Wander walked towards the source of the itch, a small wooden chest on a table by the end of the room. Within it lay a crystal, shaped like two pyramids with their bases attached, smaller than his palm. It was clear, colourless; which was strange. And the rune… he didn’t recognize it. So this is what So-Phell fears? Wander thought. Why?

The itching on his Curiosity faded, he had uncovered the secret he was after. But now he could feel how six secrets –people– rushed to the room he was in from the other corridor. Before he could see it, he was surrounded by six guards in blue and brass. Necklaces with the Eye hanged at their necks. They all held short swords, like the one he was holding. But two of them grasped a pair of crystals, one crimson and the other deep blue, with their off-hand. Balancers. He had to stay in motion.

A pair of crystals gave a slight glow and Wander felt a force tugging him sideways. One guard stabbed, but he managed to deflect the blow and counter-attack, but another sword blocked. Wander spun, parrying another blow. He tried to advance, but an invisible force pushed at his feet, and he slipped. He rolled, dodged and blocked incoming blades.

He jumped to his feet, but now his boot began to burn. Wander kicked it off right before it caught aflame. Knives twisted and turned in the air, flying towards him. He deflected some, but others managed to cut his arms. Those balancers were good, he had to get rid of them.

Aiming at a balancer, he threw his sword at him. Before it struck, it froze in its course. It began to fall, but Wander caught the sword again, and stabbed at the balancer’s throat. Blood spewed out, staining Wander’s face. One less.

Wander parried a blade and stabbed, killing another foe. Four remained, one of them a balancer. He rushed towards the bigger threat, blocking and deflecting incoming blows. He slashed at the balancer, but the man managed to grab the sword with a gloved hand. The blade shattered in the balancer’s effortless grasp. Shock painted Wander’s face. The balancer stabbed, but he managed to evade the attack; manoeuvring behind the balancer. Wander’s clothes began to warm up, then smoke. He dropped the bladeless hilt and took hold of the balancer’s head. With both of his hands, he turned with every strength he could muster till he heard a crack, and the body fell limp in his arms. His clothes now began to cool down.

Wander noticed a pale yellow crystal, Lis, attached to the back of the balancer’s glove. That was useful. Using the dead body as a shield, he removed the glove and snuck his left hand inside it.

Wander hurled the limp body at the closest enemy, picked up the sword the balancer dropped and slashed horizontally. A miss, but it gave him room to breathe.

It was three against one. Nothing he hadn’t done before. He fastened the glove on his hand and waited for the first bold enough to attack.

A downwards hack approached. Wander caught it with his gloved hand and pulled, snatching the sword out of his foe’s hand. He stabbed and turned, dodged and swung, until his enemies lay on the floor, covered in blood. He exhaled, cuts and bruises he had ignored now flared his skin.

Exhaustion wrapped around him, edged by an incoming hunger, as his pain slowly mellowed. Wander sighed and reached the chest that held the crystal he came looking for. He snatched it out of the wooden box and limped, then walked, towards the way out.