Jake finished eating his piece of bread, his mind still racing with the implications of what he was reluctantly accepting. So magic is real, after all…? He had never seen any proof before the last few days' events. Why? Was it because magic was dangerous? Or because it was useless? Or had he simply been too focused on surviving to notice?
Jake looked at the grand building. He knew this place well. While preparing his heist, he had already spent a few days under this tree, studying the guards' patterns, the building layout, and the security measures. His sharp mind was wired for patterns. He read people effortlessly, spotting even the smallest shift in their behavior. That was how he had survived for so long. And yet, after he stole something obviously valuable and powerful… There was nothing. No panic. No guards rushing around. No frantic messenger. No nervous professor. Jake almost felt disappointed.
He sighed and absentmindedly rubbed the bauble in his pocket. Maybe you're knowledge that was forgotten. No one knows you exist or cares. You're like me. The stone answered with a burst of heat. So now you decide to wake up? He shook his head. Am I actually happy you're activating?
For the first time in days, Jake started to relax. He would find a solution. He always did. His focus started to waver as he enjoyed the fresh air. His attention slipped from the College, drawn instead to three female students stepping through the gate. They settled nearby, chatting happily. The tallest one, with short brown hair and sharp eyes, scanned the area with the quiet focus of a guard expecting trouble and ready to meet it head-on. That's next-level bodyguard.
Next to her, the bubbly gold-haired one was hard to ignore, her long curls bouncing as she spoke with passion. Her melodic voice would make anyone believe magic existed. The third one was calmer, watching her friend talk with a distant gaze, as if her mind was elsewhere. She sat still, listening to the other two chatter, her strawberry gold hair shining in the sun. Then, she laughed. A crystalline sound that made Jake smirk. He stretched his legs, enjoying the shifting sunlight. Today can still be a good day. For a moment, he almost forgot his troubles. The stone seemed to agree. He could feel the pulses grow stronger, tingling his fingers.
Suddenly, Jake shivered. The same feeling he got during a heist when unseen eyes were closing in. The thief tensed, scanning for danger. The three girls were still chatting, except for one. The strawberry-haired girl, who had laughed moments ago, suddenly stiffened. Her fingers twitched, then she swatted at her ears as if brushing away an invisible fly.
A chill ran down Jake's spine. Was she feeling the magic from the jewel too? How the hell do I turn this thing off? His hand in his pocket, he almost reluctantly opened his fingers, letting go of the bauble. He focused on his breathing. I'm not here. You can't see me. I'm not here. Go away. Calm descended upon him as the strength of the mantra took effect. He felt the stone grow cold again.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the magic-sensitive woman rise unsteadily. The tall one rushed to steady her, concern etched on her face. They whispered something, and with a pale face, the woman nodded. Together, they hurried back toward the College. Jake watched them go. The strawberry-haired one had felt something. And now, she was going to tell someone.
A small knot of dread formed in his stomach. Jake knew it was time to leave. He had pushed his luck enough for one day. But as he moved to stand, his body didn't follow. His legs felt like lead. His heart was hammering in his chest. He needed to rest … just a little longer. His mind felt blank. Too much had happened in too little time. «Just two minutes and I'm off…» he muttered.
Jake gaped as he felt it. Unrelenting pressure. This wasn't like a guard's gaze. It was stronger, much stronger. It's even worse than in the mist. Breathing was painful, as if a physical weight pressed on his lungs.
Jake's eyes darted to the College tower. A figure loomed in an open window, watching—an older man, gray beard catching the light, arms crossed in quiet authority. Jake froze. Cold sweat beaded on his skin.
I'm not here… Jake started to recite his mantra, but before he could even process it, the weight he felt increased even more. A crystalline sound rang out, sharp, like glass shattering under pressure. A split-second later, the wizard's eyes snapped to him. His piercing gaze locked onto the thief like a predator marking its prey. The old man raised a hand in a slow, deliberate motion. His fingers curled into a fist. A soft pink glow flared to life. Magic!
The hand started to draw an intricate figure in the air. He's casting a spell!
The air vibrated and started glowing as the hand slowly pointed in Jake's direction. The thief's instincts took over, urgent, undeniable. His body lunged before his mind caught up, every muscle screaming in protest. I need to get out of here!
In his pocket, the jewel panicked too. It flared up with heat and light. The thief's vision grew dark, and then the world shattered into thick pink mist. Jake's power over words, once used for poetry and weaving lies, had come in handy again. As the fog swallowed him whole, only two words escaped his lips.
"Oh, fuck…"