The city of shattered domes and noble ruins sat quiet under the pale moonlight. Among the forgotten villas and dim alleys of the Theodorian border town, Arriel, Lira, and Kell waited silently atop a crumbling tower. It was the third night they observed the discreet stone building nestled between overgrown gardens—its windows sealed, its guards subtle and alert.
Through a magical binocular glowing with pale blue etchings, Lira watched the main entrance.
"There," she whispered, passing the binocular to Arriel.
A portly man in layered violet robes stepped out of a luxurious hover-caravan, flanked by two stern-faced bodyguards clad in dark leather. As he approached the heavy wooden door, he drew a crimson card from his coat and held it up. The guards outside nodded. One pressed a hidden rune, and the door silently slid open.
"Same merchant," Kell confirmed. "Third time this week. Always brings those same guards."
Lira nodded. "And always leaves through the east alley. Same time, same route."
Arriel lowered the binocular. "Tonight, we intercept him. We just need that invitation."
Back at their tent in the humanitarian relief camp, the trio reviewed the plan one last time.
---
Later that night, the alleyway bathed in moonlight. Quiet and narrow, it was perfect for an ambush.
Lira stepped into view first, draped in a plain brown cloak with her long blonde pigtails loose over her shoulders. Her wide eyes and timid voice sold the act as she stumbled forward, pretending to be a noble daughter lost in the foreign city.
"Excuse me… I—I'm looking for the violet tea house?" she asked, tilting her head with just enough confusion.
The merchant paused, curious. His guards stepped forward immediately, suspicious.
Just as one guard reached for the sword at his side, Kell darted from the shadows behind. Arriel followed close behind, both silent as shadows. They struck fast—Kell disarmed the first guard while Arriel slammed the other into the wall with the flat of his blade.
The merchant spun in panic, too late.
"Sleep," Lira murmured, her hand glowing soft violet.
All three men collapsed instantly, snoring lightly.
"Clean hit," Kell grinned, adjusting his gloves.
"Drag them into that old shed," Arriel said. "Quick."
They moved fast. Inside the dusty storage building, they laid the men down and covered them with faded sacks and crates. Lira added a layer of illusion magic—just enough to make anyone who passed by glance away without interest.
Back in the alley, Arriel pulled out the crimson invitation card from the merchant's coat. Golden vines shimmered across the surface, and a barely visible enchantment pulse hummed in his fingers.
"There's magic on it," he warned.
"I'll handle it," Lira said. She took the card and muttered a short dispelling chant. The enchantment blinked out.
Kell searched the bodyguards' belongings and found a folded robe and mask in a satchel.
"Looks like standard dress code for their auction," he said, holding up the ornate black-and-gold robes. "We'll fit right in."
The trio quickly retreated from the alleyway and returned to their tent without alerting the relief camp. Lira scanned the card one more time with a detection spell and confirmed it was now safe.
Sitting around a low lantern in the tent, Kell examined the mask.
"So tomorrow," he said, "you'll be the noble, Lira. We'll pose as your guards."
Lira crossed her arms. "I hate this dress-up act, but fine. I'll act like I'm made of money."
Arriel leaned forward. "Once we're inside, we identify who's involved. Anyone tied to the Griffin symbol or the royal descendants. If we find evidence, we take it and get out."
"And if we see any prisoners?" Kell asked.
Lira frowned. "We'll need a second infiltration. Tomorrow, we gather intel. We can't free anyone without tipping our hand."
They all nodded, the gravity of their plan hanging in the silence.
---
Later that night, as Arriel rolled out his blanket beside the tent wall, he glanced toward Lira and Kell, who were already dozing off. He looked again at the stolen invitation card, now lying beneath Lira's satchel.
"We're walking into the lion's den," he muttered under his breath.
From across the tent, Lira's sleepy voice replied, "Then let's wear our best smiles."
Outside, the moon hung high over Theodor, casting long shadows across the broken kingdom.
Tomorrow, the hunt would begin.