Thief of Time

Claud heaved a sigh as the two ladies left the bar. The one named Isolde was abnormally sharp…well, Isolde was an oddball in so many ways to begin with. For starters, she behaved quite like a noble lady new to society and the darkness within, but oftentimes, she would act like a professional abruptly. It was as if she had a bounty hunter’s instinct inside her noble facade or something, which put her mannerisms and actions at odds.

Either way, it was good that she had talked herself into thinking that Tot was too much of a target. In fact, Claud couldn’t quite believe how Colidra and presumably other investigators had managed to come up with such an incredible conclusion, but imagination was an almighty tool.

One could lead a mundane life, but with the correct tools, create a story that would astound the world. Similarly, the thief could have been of very common origins, but with Colidra’s work, become an unparalleled master of an entire era. Long had he wondered how such exaggeration was possible, but now that he’d witnessed it himself, the process didn’t seem to be too far-fetched.

For some reason, being mistaken as an ancient one who preceded the Third Godsfall made him feel rather chuffed. Of course, he wouldn’t run into the streets and yell about it — that was idiotic — but being thought of as such a being did wonders for the ego.

Beyond that, however, the news that a Named — someone with enough exploits under their belt to be recognised throughout Grandis — was making his way to the City of Trades was enough to make him very worried. It wasn’t just their martial might; most of the Named got their reputation for deeds that would have been impossible for the weak-willed and simple-minded.

Their minds were as incisive as their strikes.

Some of them, rumour went, had been embroiled in less than honourable professions prior to become famous. Any storyteller worth their salt, however, would probably know about it.

Claud tossed a gold piece to the storyteller. “Tell me about the tetra-folder on the way here. The guy called Zulan Patra.”

Colidra caught the coin. “Never knew you had an interest in powerhouses outside the Istrel Dukedom.”

“Well, he is coming over to Licencia. If I know about his past, his likes and dislikes, I’ll at least be able to avoid rubbing him up the wrong way,” said Claud. “I still value my life a lot. Don’t want a day when some monster breaks my house into tiny pieces and whatnot, right?”

“True. Survival tip number two: never piss off the experts.” Colidra rubbed his chin. “Well, I’ll give this coin some face and tell you all about Zulan Patra, the Spear of Fate. Before that, though, get me a nice drink. I’m thirsty.”

Rolling his eyes, Claud passed some money over to the bartender, who immediately responded with two glasses of apple juice. Sliding one over to the storyteller, Claud took a sip and gazed at the middle-aged man expectantly, ignoring the usual pop-up that appeared whenever he bribed anyone.

“Were you always this eager?” Colidra scratched his balding head, and then shrugged. “Anyway, Zulan Patra is a Blessed of the White God, the Holy of Holies, Schizel. Raised as a zealot by the White Church, he rose to fame three hundred and eighty-one years ago, when he single-handedly took down a county for killing a priest of his faith.”

“A county?” Claud asked.

“One with two tetra-folders as their trump cards,” Colidra added. “If the records are to be believed, he killed them with a single blow each with his namesake skill, the Spear of Fate, and then moved on to the count they were protecting themselves.”

“So…what does this Spear of Fate do?” Claud asked.

“It’s simple, and deadly. When activated, Zulan Patra can reduce the lifespan of anyone who is hit by his next strike to zero,” replied the old storyteller. “Rumour has it, however, that Zulan Patra only has talent in his spear and nothing else. You can probably call that a weak point, but he is a Blessed of the White God, so no one’s probably going to try anything.”

Claud’s lips tightened as he understood the hidden implications behind the storyteller’s words. “His emergence this time will not be alone. He will definitely be attended by guards, especially those that can cover the areas that he lacks. So I’ll just need to not offend anyone in the vestments of the White God. Not that hard. What does he like? And what does he dislike?”

“Now, those are rather hard questions. As a youth, Zulan Patra was said to be a rather reckless fellow who loved to challenge anyone to a duel. But very little personal information has leaked out about him. Ever since he crushed the county and returned to seclusion, information about him has dried up.”

“Hmm…” Once again, Claud found himself at a loss. He never got all that well with zealots, although his ability to bootlick anyone or make himself sound pleasing usually covered that up. “Did he crush that county of his own volition, or did the White Church ask him to?”

“Again, a very good question. The circumstances surrounding the destruction of the Clause County remains a mystery; the Schwa Dukedom didn’t open an investigation to the destruction of Clause.” The storyteller took a swig from his glass. “Whether they were bribed by the White Church, or yielded to their threats, no one really knows.”

“What a bother. No one’s going to roam the streets if such a malefic star’s in town, right?” Claud turned to the barkeeper. “Master, are you going to close down shop while he’s here?”

“Yes…is what I’d say, but I get a feeling that I might be forced to open it if the Spear of Fate wants to get a drink anyway,” said the bartender, a wry smile on his face. “It is dangerous to interact with beings like him, but taking the risk is better than making him angry.”

“On the plus side, Licencia’s security is going to be really safe,” said the storyteller. “Bet tons of merchants are going to send their largest haul out while he’s around.”

“Don’t bet on that,” Claud replied. “We’ve quite a few mana-users here, but a robbery happened right outside the town last night.”

The bartender’s eyes lingered for a moment on him, which Claud ignored.

“Such a thing happened?” the storyteller asked.

“Yeap.”

“Must be the work of a mana-user,” Colidra mumbled.

Claud turned his eyes to the bartender. “And you’ll be right about that.”

For a moment, the bartender didn’t have much of a reaction. His eyes widened immediately afterwards, before mouthing out some words that Claud couldn’t decipher.

He nodded his head anyway, and then turned back to the storyteller. “By the way, do you know what the item Tot stole was? I heard all kinds of rumours about it, but there really isn’t much for me to write…uh, think about.”

“Oh, you’re recording this event?” Colidra’s eyes glittered. “Promising fellow. Well, it’s said that the item the Thief of Time stole was something called…uh…”

“Called?”

Claud felt the little box hidden in his clothes twitch, as he pressed for an answer.

“Strange. I can’t seem to remember its name,” said Colidra. “How odd. Well, I do know that it’s capable of purifying lifestones. For some reason, I know that it also has other functions, but I can’t place them down right now.”

“Maybe you should eat more fish or something,” said the bartender. “Improves your mind.”

“Must be my age,” Colidra griped. Sighing a few times, he downed his glass fully and hiccupped. “What kind of fish do you have?”

“Oh, we have quite a few…take this menu and look at it.”

Turning his attention away from the counter, Claud closed his eyes and sighed. A tetra-folder, a Named, had begun to move against him. Would the possibility of facing a monster from the Third Godsfall deter the Spear of Fate? Claud had a feeling that the answer was no.

Fortunately, even the mightiest of folders were still very much killable. If Zulan Patra’s skills were centred around his spear, using underhanded tactics to kill that fellow was still on the table. Traps, poisons, plots, hidden weapons…things like these served to equalise the table.

In theory, anyway.

However, much planning was required. Preparing for the descent of such a personage would need time and resources, neither of which he had in excess…unless he undertook the risk of stealing things in this environment where any thief was assumed to be Tot.

Taking a few deep breaths, he turned to the storyteller, who was busy scoffing down a hearty meal of fish and chips. It was somewhat astounding to see how the bartender had prepared a meal this quickly, but again, he was a man of miracles and—

Shaking his head, Claud watched the middle-aged man clear his plate in silence. It didn’t take long for Colidra to finish eating, which was the cue for Claud to ask the last question in his mind.