The inn was lively, the air thick with the scent of roasted meat and the tang of ale. At a corner table, Ayao lifted her cup high, her voice cutting through the ambient noise.
"Alright, everyone! Letâs celebrate!"
A chorus of cheers followed as Nailah, Ayao, Bremuda, Dorothy, and Sakichi clinked their cups together. Laughter and chatter filled the space as they drank, but Nailah, unaccustomed to the burning sensation of alcohol, coughed violently after her first sip. The others burst into laughter at her expense, but she could only grin, wiping her mouth.
As the night progressed, Bremuda leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "So, why did you want to learn the arcane arts? You do realize its use is illegal?"
Nailah set her cup down, her gaze unwavering. "Because I need to be strong enough to clear my name and become the Elysian."
A heavy silence fell over the table. Dorothyâs eyes widened in disbelief. "Elysian?! That seems borderline impossible. The only way to attain that kind of wealth in the Lowlands is through deviancy, but once you're registered as a deviant, climbing even a single rung on the aristocratic ladder is legally impossible!"
"I know," Nailah said, her tone firm. "But as long as they donât catch me, Iâm not a deviant. Iâll use Lucius to clear my name, return to the aristocracy, and watch them all burn from the inside out."
Ayao regarded her with an unreadable expression. "You think you can defeat Lucius? Heâs a dark lord. He's as strong as I am."
"Even so," Nailah said, meeting her gaze head-on, "I will."
A sudden shift in the air sent a chill down Nailahâs spine. Ayao let her Vistra surge outward, an unseen force pressing against everyone at the table. The oppressive energy was suffocating. Nailahâs hands trembled as an involuntary thought surfaced.
Is she using her Arcane Ability? No⦠this is just the sheer pressure of her Vistra. Her power is unbelievable. The gap between us is immense.
Images of Jason, Edward, and Keisha flashed through her mind. The people who had believed in her, sacrificed for her. Her fear wavered, replaced by something darker, something stronger.
"You have taught me a lot, and Iâll always be grateful for that⦠butâ¦" Nailahâs voice was steady, her expression cold. "Iâll destroy anyone who gets in my way. Including you, Ayao."
For a moment, Ayao studied her, then, as quickly as it had come, she withdrew her Vistra. A smirk tugged at her lips. "Youâve got spunk. Thatâs good. Youâll need it."
Bremuda exhaled dramatically, leaning back in her chair, relieved. "Boss, I really thought you were going to kill her."
"So did I!" Dorothy chimed in, shaking her head.
Nailah let out a breath she hadnât realized sheâd been holding. "That was scary."
Ayao chuckled. "Sorry. Just wanted to test you."
Dorothy scoffed. "Still, that is so like you."
A thought nagged at Nailah. She hesitated before speaking. "Iâve been wondering⦠since Iâll become a deviant, Iâd like to know what was the Robbing Hood really like?"
Ayaoâs eyes narrowed. "What do you know of him?"
"Only that he and his Mad Men were the most feared deviants in the Ether Empire. They nearly threw the Empire into chaos."
Bremuda leaned back. "Thatâs how theyâre perceived up there. But in the Lowlands? They chose freedom over servitude, carved out their own fate. In the end, The Robbing Hood and the Mad Men claimed the Black Market as their kingdom."
Nailah nodded, processing the information. "He sounds honorable. I hope Iâm not out of line asking this, but⦠is it true you betrayed him? Even though you were allies?"
Dorothy slammed her cup down. "Hey! Youâre way out of line, kid!"
Ayao raised a hand, silencing her. "Itâs fine. I donât mind."
Her voice turned cold, devoid of emotion. "Yes, itâs true. All the current Dark Lords, including myself, were once his allies. But we all betrayed him. When the Empireâs Knights came, we left him and his people to deal with it. Their fate was theirs to meet."
Nailah clenched her fists. "But why?! That isnât right!"
Ayao smirked. "Right and wrong? Thatâs not our game. Weâre businessmen, not heroes. His idealism was bad for business. His stubbornness made an enemy out of the entire Empire. In the end, he watched every last one of his allies fall before the Emerald Knight struck him down."
Nailah exhaled sharply. "And since then, the sentences against deviants have become the harshest, havenât they?"
Dorothy nodded. "Because of one of the heroes from that legendary battle. Back then, he was just a guard. His name is Sir Mordred. One of the rare Lowlanders to become nobility."
Bremuda added, "Heâs now a Platinum Knight, Vice-Commander of the White Ravens. Specializes in organized crime. They call him The Deviant Hunter."
Nailah scoffed. "Yes, but in Skyland, once a Lowlander, always a Lowlander. Iâve heard heâs just a drunkard who lazes around."
Ayao shrugged. "Nothing surprising there. I personally hate Skylanders, but if thatâs the path you want to take⦠I respect that."
Nailah met her gaze and nodded. "Thank you."
She stood, stretching. "Anyway, I must leave now. I have important preparations to make. Thanks for the treat."
Ayao waved her off. "Donât worry about it."
As Nailah walked away, Ayao watched her go. "She reminds me of him."
Bremuda raised a brow. "The Robbing Hood?!"
Sakichi smirked. "Are you praising her?"
Ayao scowled. "Thatâs hardly a good thing. He was an idiot."
Yet, as she watched Nailah disappear into the streets of Scrapville, her thoughts darkened.
Thatâs quite the journey youâve set yourself on⦠but deviancy is a dark path. Itâs easy to get engulfed by that darkness. Be careful, Nailah.
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Nailah crouched near a railway emblem, her fingers tracing the worn symbol. A voice rang out behind her.
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"Thatâs the second time youâve come here."
She turned sharply, relaxing when she recognized the speaker. "Oh, itâs you. Thanks again for last time." It was Harlow, the girl who had helped her escape from the Crimson Bandit after she fled the workhouse. She looked almost unchangedâfiery orange hair still flowing past her shoulders, the same tattered jacket draped over a dark skirt. But something was different. The warmth she carried when they met was gone, replaced by something sharper. The friendly mask had slipped as she is now revealed her true faceâone that was cold, calculating.
Harlow smiled, but there was no kindness in the expression. "Believe me, you donât want to thank me. Iâve got a knack for sniffing out trouble. And you? You reek of it. So I dug around a littleâ¦"
She pointed at Nailah. "Took some effort, but I figured it out. Youâre the aristocrat traitress who was supposed to be executed last year, except youâre clearly not as dead as theyâd like to think."
Nailah held her gaze. "Canât be. Sheâs dead."
Harlow smirked. "If thatâs the case, you wonât mind if I tell the guards, right?"
Nailahâs lips curled. "Or⦠Iâve got a better idea."
Harlow crossed her arms. "Iâm listening."
Nailah grinned. "How about a gold robbery?"
Nailah leaned against the wooden railing of the abandoned shack, her voice low but firm. âThis railroad belongs to the Dasmi Family. They own plenty of gold mines in the Lowlands, and theyâll be transporting raw gold to Skyland soon. Thatâs where we intercept it.â
Harlowâs lips curled into a grin. âI knew you had something good to offer!â
A voice interrupted them from behind.
"Now thatâs my kind of plan!"
Nailah and Harlow turned sharply to see a figure approaching them. Zeke "Sticky Fingers" strolled up with an easy swagger, hands in his pockets, his usual roguish grin plastered on his face.
"Count me in!" he said without hesitation.
Nailah narrowed her eyes at Harlow. "You know him?"
Zeke chuckled. "You should be cautious around her. Thatâs 100-Face Harlow, the most infamous swindler in Scrapville. A master of disguise."
Nailah scoffed. "Sheâs not so great, believe me."
Harlow smirked. "Well, I did swindle my way into your plan, didnât I?"
Zeke shook his head, amused. Then, he leveled his gaze at Nailah. "Tell me if Iâm wrong, but you were planning to put Damon into this mess to pay off your debt, werenât you? I can help you get to him before he gets you killed."
Nailah studied him for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Youâre in. At least youâre useful. Unlike Orange Head over here."
Harlow huffed, crossing her arms. "Bad weather hair is talking to me?"
The two women glared at each other, their silent challenge hanging thick in the air.
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The Crimson Bandit hideout was nothing more than a run-down warehouse at the edge of Scrapville, its walls covered in grime and the stench of stale liquor lingering in the air. Inside, Damon sat lazily atop a crate, idly twirling a knife between his fingers.
The doors slammed open, and he snapped his head up in surprise. Zeke entered first, dragging Nailah in behind him.
"Iâve got her, boss!" Zeke declared.
Damonâs lips stretched into a wicked grin. "I knew I could count on you, Sticky Fingers."
Zeke gestured toward Nailah. "Sheâs got something interesting to say. I think you should listen."
Before Damon could respond, a shadow dropped from the ceiling. Harlow landed gracefully, dusting herself off. "Heâs right! You should."
Damonâs grin widened when he saw her. "Well, well, if it isnât Harlow? Fancy a drink later?"
Harlow tilted her head. "Maybe, if you listen to what the girl has to say."
Damon leaned forward, suddenly more attentive. "Oh? Iâm very interested now."
He leaned back, his amusement fading slightly. "Alright, but this better not be a waste of my time. What is it?"
Nailah straightened, her expression hardening. "I know I owe you money, but I have a way to make sure you get that amount a hundred times over."
Damon arched a brow. "Go on."
Nailah took a breath. "Weâre going to rob a train transporting gold."
Silence. Then, Damon laughed. "Interesting! But before we beginâ¦"
His expression turned sharp as he pointed a finger at her. "If this plan of yours flops, Iâll make sure your little friends pay the price after Iâm done with you."
Nailah met his glare without flinching. "If you lay a finger on them, youâll have hell to pay."
Damon chuckled darkly. "I like how feisty youâve become."
Zeke sighed, stepping between them. "Weâre on the same team now. Can we skip the threats?"
Damon shrugged. "Threats? No, call it... motivation."
Nailah exhaled sharply. "Fine. Back to business."
Damon eyed her, then smirked. "Whatâs this? Now youâre playing favorites, Zeke?"
Harlow put her palm on her forehead, watching the exchange with growing exasperation. "This is the crew thatâs supposed to pull off a heist? Weâre doomed."
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Harlow spread a large map across the table. "Milton City is the last stop before Skyland. Thatâs our entry point. Iâll sneak onboard, clear the way, and let you in. By the time we hit Sihampton, weâll have the locks picked."
Nailah nodded. "Which means time will be short. Weâll only take half the gold and replace it with rocks. If the weight matches, they wonât notice until itâs too late."
Damon frowned. "Half? What the hell do you mean, half?! Weâre taking all of it! Let them cry their losses! Thatâs how bandits operate! What kind of cowardâs plan is this?!"
Nailah rolled her eyes. "If we take it all, theyâll know right away. The Knights will be on us before we even leave the station. Use your brain for once."
Harlow added, "Besides, if we donât take all the gold, these rich bastards probably wonât even give a damn. No Knights will be sent after us."
Damon scowled. "I donât give a shit! We take all the gold! Zeke! Thatâs why you canât let women run things. Theyâre spineless!"
Zeke smirked. "Actually, I think theyâve got the right idea."
Damonâs jaw dropped. "What?!"
Nailah crossed her arms. "Let me spell it out for you. Youâre not the boss on this job, Damon."
Harlow smirked. "Youâre either inâ¦"
Nailah shot her a glare. "Donât complete my sentences. Thatâs gross."
Harlow scoffed. "Shut up! I donât want to hear that from someone whose hair looks like a thunderstorm!"
Damon clenched his fists. "You two mustâve lost your damn minds. Guess Iâll have to knock some sense back into you!"
Zeke stepped in, placing a hand on Damonâs chest. "Boss! Calm down!"
Zeke sighed, nearly pleading. "This isnât small-time banditry. This is real money. A fortune! Donât mess it up because you want to play king for a day."
Damon exhaled through his nose, then relented. "Iâll let this slide because itâs you. Alright, Iâm in."
Harlow leaned back. "After the heist, we jump near Scrapville, turn the gold into cash, and then everyone is free to do whatever they want with their share. But I recommend lying low for a month."
Damon scoffed. "Pffff! Lying low for a month?"
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A misty dawn settled over Milton City, wrapping the freight station in a cold haze. The air smelled of oil, damp wood, and coal smoke, blending with the distant clang of metal and the murmurs of early workers. Inside an empty train car, four figures crouched in silence, watching the tracks ahead.
Through the fog, their target appearedâa massive freight train, its iron frame groaning as it pulled into the station. Steam hissed from below, curling into the air, while its wheels let out a slow, heavy screech. The train came to a stop, its carriages looming in the mist, waiting.
Harlow eyed the approaching train. "So, todayâs the day, huh?" She was dressed as a train mechanic, she blended in perfectly. Her wig, makeup, and uniform were flawlessâshe looked every bit like a young man.
Zeke nodded. "Yeah. Weâre finally getting out of this damned slum."
Nailah glanced at him. "You sure do seem confident."
Zeke grinned. "Iâm a thief. Thereâs nothing I canât steal."
Damon smirked. "Yeah, itâs Zeke âSticky Fingersâ weâre talking about."
Zeke turned to Nailah. "Gotta say, youâre fearless to come up with such an idea."
Nailahâs eyes burned with determination. "Thereâs no way weâre leaving this dump without taking a risk."
She straightened, gripping the edge of the train car. "Now, letâs rob this bloody train!"