Two weeks had passed since the incident at the tavern.
By then, Randia had already crossed into the Queendom of Rosmayne, a neighboring realm known more for its peace than its power. Compared to the other domains scattered across the continent, Rosmayne was quiet, almost forgettable, and perhaps that was exactly why he had come. The farther one traveled from the great cities and royal roads, the less attention strangers attracted. In the small towns that dotted the outskirts of the queendom, guards were less vigilant, officials less inquisitive, and travelers were often left to mind their own business.
For a man like Randia, that was preferable.
Weeks of relentless travel had finally begun to take their toll. He had spent days alternating between walking and running with little rest, pushing his body far beyond what most men could endure. Though his physique remained far superior to that of ordinary people, even he could not ignore exhaustion forever. His feet were covered in blisters and rashes, his muscles ached with every step, and a dull heaviness lingered behind his eyes.
Eventually, he found refuge in a narrow alley tucked between two buildings. The stone walls provided shelter from the afternoon sun, and for the first time that day, he allowed himself to sit.
The town bustled somewhere beyond the alley's entrance. Merchants shouted prices. Horses clattered across cobblestones. Children laughed in the distance.
Randia paid none of it any attention.
Left alone with his thoughts, he found himself drifting into memories he would have preferred to leave buried.
Some were pleasant.
Most were not.
Faces long gone surfaced one after another. Voices he had not heard in fifteen years echoed faintly within his mind. The more he reached toward those distant memories, the more painfully aware he became of the emptiness that surrounded him in the present. Longing for what could never be reclaimed only deepened the solitude he carried from place to place.
Then something stirred in the air.
Randia's eyes opened.
A faint current of magic drifted through the wind.
For a brief moment, he thought he recognized it.
"Alana?" he murmured.
The sensation lingered for another heartbeat before he shook his head.
"No... Yarna."
He slowly rose to his feet.
The magical residue was weak, almost imperceptible, yet distinct enough for him to follow. It drifted through the streets like an invisible trail, leading him toward the town's marketplace.
The square was crowded.
Rows of caravans lined the roads while merchants displayed their wares beneath colorful canopies. Customers moved from stall to stall, haggling over prices and inspecting goods from distant lands. To most people, it was simply another busy market day.
Randia's attention settled elsewhere.
Near one row of merchant caravans sat a short figure wrapped in filthy rags. The individual appeared to be sleeping beside a stack of crates, head lowered and body curled tightly against the wood. Not far away, several merchants busied themselves arranging ceramic wares for sale.
Randia remained where he was.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then he saw it.
A ceramic flower vase shifted on its own.
No hand touched it.
No one stood near enough to move it.
Yet the vase trembled before slowly sliding across the wooden display. Around it flickered faint strands of magical energy, swirling in colors he recognized immediately.
Yarna.
His eyes narrowed.
The vase tilted.
Then fell.
Clank!
The ceramic shattered against the ground.
"Oh no! No, no, no, no!" one of the merchants cried. "This one cost a fortune! Oh God, why?!"
Another rushed over, staring at the broken remains.
"What have you done?! The boss will kill us if she finds out about this!"
"It wasn't me!" the first merchant protested desperately. "I swear I put it up safely for sale! Trust me!"
The second merchant pointed furiously at the shattered pieces.
"So you're saying it moved on its own?! Don't bullshit me, you lamebrained halfling!"
As the argument escalated, the ragged figure beside the crates quietly opened one eye.
Then both.
While the merchants shouted at each other, the small figure rose without attracting attention and slipped toward a nearby stall. A loaf of bread disappeared beneath the cloak. Then some cured meat. A handful of small marble trinkets followed shortly afterward.
The thief moved with practiced efficiency.
Within moments, they were gone.
Randia watched as the figure hurried toward a nearby alley.
He followed.
The thief had barely entered the alleyway before colliding directly with him.
"Uwah!"
The small figure bounced backward and landed hard on the ground. Several stolen trinkets spilled from beneath the cloak, rattling loudly as they scattered across the stone.
For a moment, both remained still.
Then the hood slipped back.
Randia found himself staring at a little girl.
Her hair was raven-black and fell in messy waves around her face. Dirt stained her skin, and the unmistakable smell of rotting manure clung to her clothes. She looked painfully thin, as though she had survived on scraps for far too long. Beneath the oversized rags, her body appeared little more than skin stretched over fragile bones.
Instead of anger, Randia felt only pity.
The girl blinked several times in confusion.
"Ugh! Why you—?!" She paused and looked around. "B-But there was no one!"
Before either could say anything else, voices rang out from the marketplace.
"Hey!"
One of the merchants pointed toward the alley.
"It was her! She's stealing the goods! After her!"
The girl's eyes widened.
Without hesitation, she scrambled to her feet and bolted.
Randia simply stepped aside and allowed her to pass.
The merchants charged after her moments later.
"Agh! Dammit!" the girl shouted while running. "If only that fat pig wasn't in the way!"
The insult earned no reaction from Randia.
"Stop right there, thief!"
"How dare you break the vase, you little bitch?! We'll fucking skin you for dinner!"
The chase continued through the town's maze of alleys.
One turn became three.
Three became five.
Then seven.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
The merchants finally cornered the girl in a dead end. Though they were breathing heavily from the pursuit, they still managed to seize her arms and force her onto her knees. Their grip was so rough that it looked as though they might tear her limbs from their sockets.
"You..." one merchant wheezed between breaths. "Huff... huff... I'll take my time with you."
"I don't care if you're a brat!" another spat. "Huff... huff... I've beaten the shit out of people no matter what they look like!"
The girl lowered her head.
She did not struggle.
She did not plead.
Years of experience had apparently taught her exactly how these situations ended.
Her eyes squeezed shut.
Her shoulders trembled.
At the very least, she hoped she would still be able to walk afterward.
One of the merchants raised his hand.
The slap never landed.
A large hand suddenly seized his wrist.
Everyone froze.
Randia stood between them.
"Wha—who are you?!" the merchant shouted. "Let go of my hand!"
"How much?" Randia asked.
The flatness of his voice caught them off guard.
"Bastard! You looking for trouble too?"
The second merchant grabbed Randia's shirt and tried to yank him forward.
Nothing happened.
The difference in size between them was absurd. Randia remained perfectly still while the man strained against him to no effect.
"I'll ask again," Randia said. "How much do I have to pay you for the things she stole?"
The merchants exchanged a glance.
Greed quickly replaced anger.
"...Three. Fucking. Hundred. Rios. Hard coins."
The number was ridiculous.
Even the merchant standing beside him visibly winced.
Randia knew immediately that the price far exceeded the value of the stolen goods.
Nevertheless, avoiding a larger disturbance was worth more than arguing.
"Two hundred."
A small pouch landed in the merchant's hands.
The weight alone made his eyes widen.
Randia continued calmly.
"Take this and leave before your boss comes looking for you. If you're a real merchant, then you know dragging this out isn't worth the trouble."
The merchant weighed the pouch in his palm.
After a long moment, he clicked his tongue and pocketed the money.
"Heh. Wish there were more idiots who liked playing knight."
The three men eventually departed, muttering curses under their breath.
The moment they disappeared around a corner, Randia glanced sideways.
The girl was already gone.
He sighed.
Then followed.
Finding her again proved remarkably easy.
The little thief sprinted through the streets while talking to herself.
"I lost them. I lost them all!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "It's all good now. I'm fine, I'm alive, and that's what matters! There'll always be a next time!"
She picked up speed.
Unfortunately for her, no amount of speed seemed to matter.
Just as she began to relax, Randia stepped out from another alley ahead of her.
"W-Whoa!"
The girl nearly fell over.
She stared at him in disbelief.
She knew these streets.
Every shortcut.
Every hidden passage.
Every escape route.
Nobody had ever managed to keep up with her before.
Certain that it was a coincidence, she immediately changed direction and ran again.
A few minutes later, Randia emerged from another alley.
She yelped.
Ran again.
Then found him waiting at the next intersection.
And the next.
And the next.
By the ninth time he appeared seemingly out of nowhere, her confidence had completely shattered.
"W-What do you want?!" she shouted, backing away. "Try anything funny and I-I'll call the guards!"
Tears had begun gathering in her eyes.
Randia stopped.
Only then did he fully notice how frightened she looked.
He took a slow breath.
"Stealing is bad," he said quietly. "Using magic without wisdom or knowledge is also bad."
The girl's face immediately twisted.
"You want these?!" She pulled out everything she had managed to steal. "Take them then! Take it all!"
Bread flew toward him.
Then cured meat.
Then trinkets.
"Just go away! Leave me alone! Stay away from me!"
Her back hit a wall.
With nowhere left to run, she slid down to the ground and buried her face in her knees.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then something fell from above.
A clay jar dropped from the rooftop of a nearby house and struck Randia squarely on the head.
The impact produced a dull thump.
Reflexively, he caught the container before it could break.
Dried beans rattled inside.
Randia stared at it.
Then glanced upward.
Without another word, he muttered a brief incantation and flicked his fingers.
A repelling spell activated instantly.
The invisible force struck the girl and launched her from her sitting position.
"Ku—hah!"
She gasped in shock.
Randia lowered the jar.
His expression remained completely unchanged.
"However," he said, his voice calm but firm, "stealing with poorly executed magic is even worse."