Chapter 5: Truman’s thieves guild and the midnight heist

Truman Black Eyed spun the golden dagger in his hand skillfully. He was bored.

He had been hiding in the alley for two days now, observing the city's auction house closely as if he was a predator hunting its prey.

It was true, he and his guild were on a hunt. A hunt for treasures beyond belief, a treasure that would allow his whole guild to retire and lead luxurious lifes without any worry about putting food on the table. 

Truman sniffled. The alley was disgustingly stenched of piss, vomit and old alcohol. It reeked of poorman's lifestyle - which did not bother him. But staring at the extravagant auction house, where the riches and the fortunates would come to bid on lavish items while his friends, family and neighbors had to survive on moldy bread was enough to make his blood boil.

It was his close friend Jarnik, a street beggar by day and a pickpocket by night, who told him about the arrival of a heavily guarded shipment to Niliphy. Jarnik did some digging, he wandered to cafes and bistros where the auction house officers would frequent and eavesdropped under the guise of a harmless beggar. He found out that a group of platinum adventurers infiltrated an old tomb in the far far range of Paraxum Warata and slain an indescribable creature to retrieve the treasures back for the guild. Items and trinkets of interest obviously had been stowed away by the guild, the rest was transported to the auction house, waiting for a fat benefactor to pick them up and pay the adventurers their salary.

Jarnik also found out the Wheat baron Aurela Von Terifique would be one of the honor guests of the auction night - that alone was enough reason for Truman and his gang to act.

See, the Terifique family was a powerful family, with a position of importance near the top of the empire, all thanks to the damned Byzantine Von Terifique - Aurela's grandmother. Byzantine was born into a farming family, poor but not starved. She was a beautiful girl, her body was healthy thanks to the labor, it curved in all the right places and her skin was an irresistible tan - a "rare delicacy" or so the scums with money called her. 

When she was old enough, barely but still, Byzantine would wander into the city at night, especially to the red light district. She had already known a madam from a brothel she used to deliver wheat flour before - and the madam with her fine courtesan eyes had promised Byzantine a great career as a courtesan. She had potential, both in manners and in looks. 

At first, Byzantine only did it for spending money - she wished to help her mother put food on the table. But soon after, she was courted by the third son of the Von Terifique family when she was going down on him.

Some might say he was acting on his heart strings and he should reconsider, some might say marrying a prostitute because she gave him the best time of his entire life was disgusting. But of course, Byzantine not only grasped his heart, her spare hand grabbed his other thing too. 

A nobel son marrying a courtesan girl with a farmer background?

Well, he insisted that she was the one for him. Who can say, no one had the authority to stop him from choosing his partner, especially when he was only the third son. The first son of the family obviously must marry a noble, preferably from a higher class family. He would soon be the head after all. The second son shall be the spare, the just-in-case head of the family. He shall also marry in a noble family to keep the nobel blood running.

But the third son? He could do whatever the hell he wanted. This was the trend in most noble families. The third sons would have access to the power of his namesake and become an average artisans crafting silverwares or an architect designing mansions for the rich. Some even became adventurers, fairly decent ones at that due to the intensive weapon training they were allowed to get as a child.

Byzantine understood her husband's wish to become something greater than just a third son, essentially a nobody. And she had plans laid out. With the little fund her husband got for the marriage from his parents, she bought out the lands from where she used to work as a farmer. She used the Von Terifique as a leverage to force the lesser nobles into selling their land to her. Then she hired the farmers - all of them, with a great salary. The farmers under her employment would be paid by their own produce, the more they could produce, the more they were allowed to keep. And so, all of the farmers working for the other nobles quit and joined the Von Terifique homestead, orchard and plantation. Without workers, the nobles of the city had no income, so they had to sell the land to her again - a death spiral for those who opposed Byzantine.

Yet, she was also unforgiving to the farmers too.

Yes, They were allowed to keep up to 20% of the season's produce, but they had to sell it somehow. And this was where her ingenuity came into play. She sold 50% of her produce to the other noble's supplier at market price, while she sold the rest to the market at dirt cheap price to drive down the overall price. The farmers could not sell their produce to make a profit - so who did they turn to?

It was Byzantine herself. She proposed that she would buy the produce for a slightly higher price and allow them to borrow money from her to purchase equipment and other necessities. The farmers thought she was a saint, but they did not think that she had them by the neck. The more they borrowed from her, the deeper she buried them under the stress of producing enough to make ends meet. 

By the time Byzantine was a mother of two, she had taken control of 90% of the farming scene in Niliphy. She had successfully made her husband into one of the most influential men in the Niliphian Empire, even more influential than his brothers. But she did not stop there. She had prepared to give up a large amount of business to the Emperor for a chair in the royalty - and she successfully did so too. The Emperor understood that because of his policies, businesses and nobles could monopolize any given market. And he would be a fool to cross the largest food producer in his empire.

Truman hated the Von Terifique family. They were the nobles who trapped his family in recurring debt, forcing them to work until their death without an escape.

He, on the other hand, was lucky. His father, depressed by the state of his family, went and got a prostitute pregnant. And then he was born and raised outside of the Von Terifique reach - he was raised by his mother, a tiefling. Never in the history of the continent would a man be thankful that his father was a bastard.

He inherited his mother's apple red skin tone, her jet black eyes, a long pair of horns and the ability to sneak everywhere without being seen. He was a natural rogue, a thief, a pickpocket. He ganged up with the scoundrels of the slums and found his own unsanctioned thieves guild. His guild mostly acted under the shadow as he did not want to catch the attention of the major powers of the city.

But this time was different.

This treasure… he could help all the poor of the city by stealing the treasure and selling them to a collector from the other continent and also, he could take his revenge on the Von Terifique family. Two birds with one stone.

Truman knew his skill alone could not pass the tight security of the auction house - there were guards of the empire and adventurers ranked gold and above hired as securities.

He waited patiently.

The auction night.

From his intel, he knew Aurela was a collector himself and was interested in the content of the treasure and the baron was willing to pay top gold to the auction house. Truman would strike at Aurela's wagons - he had planned the day out perfectly. He had made countless contingency plans, he had hired and recruited enough men for the job, he had bought the route which Aurela's good wagon would travel, he had memorized the time table of the Baron himself. 

He only needed to see through the plan once the gears started turning.

===

It was flawless.

A perfect crime.

Truman and his trusted lackeys shadowed the caravan with the Von Terifique family crest through the whole capital city. The caravan in which laid a trove full of trinkets and treasures, "fairly" acquired by baron Aurela Von Terifique.

Of course, the baron had excused himself from the event soon after he had gotten what he wanted, for the night was still young and his mistress was waiting for him under a warm blanket. Truman saw this as a blessing: if the baron had decided to travel back to his abode with the goods he bidded for, the amount of guards and horsemen would go up twofold. 

Yet, Truman couldn't help but feel a bit regretful - he had planned the day multiple times. He had simulated many contingency events and ordered his men to act accordingly. He even had mercenaries hired behind his men's back - trusting no one was one of his codes, as the closest allies could very well become your enemy. 

He had practiced his speech for baron Aurela if the nobel had set his plump buttock onto the wagon's seat, but it seemed unnecessary now.

As the coachman caught a glimpse of the Clay Knot Gate to the west of the capital wall, he signaled the two mercenary horsemen to quickly travel before him and request the gate to be open for the carriage to rush through. He was a newly hired coachman, hand picked by the baron's mistress herself - so he wouldn't want to keep his generous employer waiting. After all, the baron had single handedly put food onto his family table. 

The mercs galloped towards the Gate as the coachman expected, and soon after, the imposing metal Gate slowly raised upward, making way for his wagon to go through. He had thought that the guards post was quite dark, as for usual, the guards would put up many lanterns to keep the area clear.

Yet, he still steered his wagon forward.

There were no guards to be seen. Both of his mercenary horsemen also disappeared.

Something was amiss, the coachman thought as he whipped the horses to speed up. He must get out of the post. His caravan was being compromised.

But it was too late.

Just from a moment of his confusion, a dart with hollow tip had pierced his neck and released the content inside straight into his vein. A concoction steeped from a mixture of the terraria plant and waterbloom, slowly brewed in a cauldron for 2 days straight. A potion of sleep - one of the most handy tools a thief could get their hands on, just behind the thieving tools and a good ol' dagger.

The coachman couldn't even reach his hand to his neck before his whole body slumped over the wagon bench.

And the horses were calmed by hooded and masked figures before Truman picked the wagon lock open and pulled a heavy ornate chest onto the ground and kicked it open. The hooded men surrounding him all gasped in amazement. Inside the chest was spot on to what a commoner would think how a treasure chest looked like. Chalices of gold and silver, crowns and tiaras, necklaces and trinkets, gemstones as big as a lemon, ancient gold coins with beautifully crafted sides,... There was everything a thief would dream to lay their hands on.

Truman picked out two giant gemstones, one vibrant scarlet ruby and a pure, vividly green emerald and handed them to the leader of the figures. Then Truman and his crews hid the content of the chest into three wooden barrels used to salt fish before dumping rocks into the chest and returning it back to the carriage.

The operation was a great success.

No blood spilled, no witnesses.

Now, his guild must lay low for he knew the underworld would be in a buzz - the caravan of one of the largest aristocrats of the capital was hit and the treasures on it disappeared without any traces. The city would crack down on every petty thief and guilds, the underworld would also send out men to ascertain the culprit and demand a cut.

Truman had envisioned this day for way too long. But it finally came true - the heist of the century. Soon, the buyer he had contacted will show up in Niliphy on 'vacation' and they will leave the empire one treasure richer.

But Truman had to wonder: among the eye-widening riches in the chest was a plain old leather book with black steel hinge and a strange, rusted metal lock and chains. In the sockets located on the metal hinge and lock were two dull lumps of coal. Why was it bidded on?

This is not a treasure at all… this is a weird book made by a con artist or a sham antique dealer… Did the fool Aurela get scammed by the auction house?

Truman flipped the book open to completely empty pages - yellowed and crumbled pages, no doubt had been in a moist environment. 

I don't get rich people's trinkets at all…

But Truman still kept the book inside the barrels with the rest of the treasure - if the auction house and the baron had seen the potential of the book, his buyer might also be interested. Truman could also use it somehow to ask for a ticket to the other continent - he wanted to travel to unknown lands after he had taken care of his family and friends. If it turned out to be useless, well he had to get rid of it somehow as it was still an item the baron bidded on in the auction house.

===

Truman casted his gaze on the passersby of the crowded market town through an opaque and cracked window.

Dubbed Cherry town by the first waves of merchants traveling past Niliphy, this small eastern town was now a hotspot for merchants peddling in greeneries and produce taken from farms and plantations in the countryside. 

And of course, one of the most common fruits one could find in this market town was cherry - a ruby red fruit shaped like a miniature heart, it had a hard pit and its flesh was sweet and sour with a woody, almond-ish aroma. Very well sought after by the commoner housewives and chefs alike. Words that the cherry fruit was first brought to the Niliphian Empire by a merchant from the kingdom of Aunumia of the oversea continent, but other would say that the emperor himself was gifted cherry trees by the empress of the Tecidrian empire to embolden the friendship between two allies. 

Whichever the true origin of the cherry fruit was, it was delicious and cheap. 

The tiefling guild leader retreated back to the dark room, seemingly satisfied with what he had observed. He had been in hiding for the past three days to let everything unwind and simmer down after his thieves guild had committed a high profile heist in the middle of the city. Currently, Truman was a wanted man, not only by the capital guards but also by the underworld itself.

But he had expected as much.

The guards were easy to fool - the baron's caravan was attacked at the west side of the city and he had hired bandits to ride their horses from the site to nearby towns and plains to create a distraction. All while Truman and the treasure would be tucked in a roadside inn to the east.

Where would a wise man hide a leaf? In the forest.

The citizens of the underworld were another story. Most thieves guilds in the capital, illegal or not, operated under a strict code, a long list of unwritten rules. Those who oppose the code unknowingly or not, will be quickly captured and sentenced by the big five - the underworld leaders representing multiple factions, based on the severity. One of those rules was one created to protect the underworld - Never target aristocrats with close ties to the emperor. Any sane man would steer clear from nobles - the amount of resources the rich can spare to hunt down those who crossed them were… staggering. They would turn every tile in the city upside down just to exact revenge on a mere petty theft. So the kingpins of the underworld, with their organization in mind, would spend the resources themselves to capture the criminal scum and hand them over preemptively to keep the nobles' hands away. 

But Truman had enough connection to keep himself far from the reach of his bedfellows.

Only two more days until his buyer would arrive at the port of Phicos and soon to check in at the roadside inn where he was. Truman had to make sure not to compromise the location, so he had not revealed his hiding place to any of his connections except his closest and most trustworthy apprentice Rooney. Rooney was to act as his right hand while he lay low, so that he could keep up with news around and plan out contingency plans if needed.

Truman nodded at Rooney and signed with his hands to let the loyal pickpocket know that it was safe to wander out of the inn. They needed food and water, so Rooney had to go out from time to time. Relatively risky but necessary.

Then Truman laid down on the straw bed - he needed a bit of close eyes. The stress was eating away at him every waking moment and he was exhausted. He had been overworking himself for many months, collecting friends and contacts, raising funds and favors,... It was a ginormous task for a single man to build a guild to the ground up, but Truman made it possible. He wanted better life conditions for his mother and his step-siblings, he wanted to free the poor and the unfortunate from a lifetime of labor and servitude.

So he tried his best. No one expected him to care, but he cared nonetheless.

Truman used to take on adventurers' quests to raise funds and make contacts. He had his fair share of valor, he had saved many allies and been saved from certain death many a time. He yearned for that kind of freedom - the freedom to venture out into the unknown and help those in need. 

Yes, some might say Truman's dream was unrealistic - just helping without expecting any return? But Truman knew the blessed feeling of receiving help when he needed it most. Being given a cob of corn as he dangled on the edge of starvation might have been a life-changing event for Truman. There were days that his mother couldn't leave the brothel, leaving him alone in the dark and dank under the bridge shelter they called home. He was raised on the street, was fed by those who had a shed of humanity in them - and he did not bear any resentment towards his mother or the more fortunate. He only felt grateful towards the kind gestures given out by kindhearted people.

Amidst a dream of his past, Truman suddenly jerked awake by footsteps towards his room. Even in sleep, Truman was still aware of his surroundings.

Rooney? Back already?

Unfortunately not. 

The wooden door slowly creaked open as Truman immediately brandished both of his curved daggers. Rooney and himself had agreed on a certain knocking pattern to announce their presence before entering the room, yet there was no knock on the door.

Truman extended his left leg behind and pressed his body low to the floor, ready to pounce on whoever was entering, his heart beating loudly in his chest, from jumping into action immediately after waking up and from the adrenaline pumped out in his fight or flight mode.

As the door swung open, Rooney walked in and froze as he finally saw a Truman ready to cut his throat. A vicious emotion shown on Truman's face.

"Why didn't you knock?" - he hissed.

Rooney placed a brown paper bag down on the barrel next to the door before hesitantly answered

"S…Sorry boss… I forgot…"

Truman was angry at his closest ally - it was no joke, the whole operation could be in peril if they were not careful. If not for his naturally red skin, he would be beet red angry. 

Truman stood and sheathed his daggers before closing his eyes and pinched his nose bridge.

"Come in. Close the damn door. C'mon… we… we gotta be more careful, Rooney."

After his name left Truman's mouth, the tiefling thief suddenly realized something was amiss. He was in grave danger - Rooney would never call him boss, he was cherished as a brother to Truman, Rooney had his fake walking gait yet he walked normally to the room, Rooney would never forget to knock…

Truman was the careless one. 

He slowly opened his eyes to a black metal barrel before his face. The impersonator closed the door and pressed the strange contraption to his forehead. 

"Please don't make any sudden movement. This thing can blow your brain out easily, and I do not want any blood shed."

"Where is Rooney? You work for the baron?" Truman calmly asked, he could not let his mask slip before his opponent.

He must persevere and find an opening to get out of the situation.

"Rooney… is safe. I merely knocked him out and borrowed his look and clothes" The impersonator said before his fake visage melted to reveal a young, ordinary human. "And no, I do not work for the baron."

"You with the bosses? Here to apprehend me and take me to them?"

"No. I'm merely an… adventurer. And I'm here today on a quest to find a certain item that you stole."

Truman kept silent. He observed the stranger and took mental note of hidden daggers in his torso sheaths before slightly tilting his head to look at the unknown weapon.

"It's a gun." The self proclaimed adventurer said "Will you please cooperate with me? I just wanted to retrieve an item from the bunch, just that item. You can keep the rest for all I care. I would even pay for it… given the right price."

"What are you looking for?" Truman kept his eagle eyes on the young human, he did not once glanced over to the treasure barrels so as not to give its position away.

"It's a tome… a book of sorts. It's called the turquoise tome so I guess… it would look blue-ish?"

"So you do not know its appearance? Have you ever seen the book yourself?"

"Listen here, boss… We both have our own problems and my problem is that my client demanded me to take the tome from you. So please, before your friend wakes up and charges in here, can you just help me out?"

"Do tell me… do you trust a thief?"

"I'm in no position to judge you, but…" The young human sighed and sheathed his 'gun', an action Truman would consider naive and stupid. No one would voluntarily give up their position of power. But Truman did not capitalize on the situation as his interest was piqued. "I don't have to trust you, and you don't have to trust me either."

Truman hummed and sat down on his bed while making sure the adventurer could observe that he meant no harm. Truman was a natural charismatic tiefling, his way with words had landed him many a favor and got him out of situations plentily.

"Alright, mister adventurer. The barrel you placed your bag onto. Pop its lid open."

The young adventurer stared at Truman for but a second, as if surprised that he cooperated that quickly. But the tiefling thief couldn't help but feel disappointed, what if he had tricked the adventurer and diverted his attention away just to easily slice his throat?

Are you seriously this trusting?

The human took out a dagger and opened the barrel lid, and his eyes went wide. But of course, no sentient creature could look away from the amount of riches cramped inside the wooden barrel. 

"What the hell…" the adventurer took out the beaten old leather book that Truman had identified as worthless before "Is it this piece of junk?" He looked over to Truman.

And Truman nodded.

It was the truth, he had nothing to hide.

For some damned reason both the baron and this weirdly trusting adventurer were interested in some weird tome - that only made the tome more valuable to Truman, as a leverage tool.

"That is the only book in the chest we stole." He said.

"Is that so…" The adventurer raised the tattered book over his head as if showing it to someone behind Truman. The tiefling flinched and turned around with an impressive half pirouette to look at a creature perched on his window still. 

A snow white owl with some yellow feather streak on its wings and throat.

Its large, beady eyes followed Truman before turning to the adventurer now behind him and made a nodding gesture - a gesture only made sense to humanoids alike. Truman suddenly felt shivers running up his spine and glanced at the adventurer.

"What?" He jokingly smiled. Not an arrogant smile, but an understanding smile. Truman was not angry at the stranger, he was angry with himself. He had been had - if the adventurer and whoever the owl behind him was, wanted to, they could have ended his life and taken the treasure for themselves. 

That would immediately alleviate the stress of the capital guards - they could pin the blame on the leader of a thieves guild and search for the treasure slowly. The underworld kingpins would also recall their hounds and dismiss the situation as resolved. And the pair would be free as clouds in the sky.

"I told you that we don't have to trust each other. But whatever, I have what I'm here for, do you have any demand in exchange for this book?"

Truman exhaled and looked back at the window to find the owl had disappeared. He then gave a weak smirk.

"You got me from the beginning, huh? You can have the book, but please leave us be with the treasure and don't… rat us out to the guards and… anyone else for that matter."

"But of course. That you can count on me… if my words still hold any value to you."

"And… Can I ask for your name?"

Nothing of value was lost… now… how can I profit from this 'adventurer'...

===

Charlie stashed the brown leather tome under his cloak and slowly joined the crowd. He had finished the task from his client. His client was a magic caster, a great one at that. The white owl was one of her polymorphed forms. Her name was Immith Murnyethera. She introduced herself as an Archlibrarian of the Qarchehia kingdom, currently taking refuge in Niliphy. 

She had traced the existence of the turquoise tome for more than a year since she first got entangled in a messy ordeal involving a large vampire family and their counterpart, a vampire-hunting clan.

After regaining consciousness after the sudden dhampir ambush, she had thanked Charlie for saving her life and shared her story with him.

"I have chosen a side, Charleston… And I'm not sure whether to regret my decision or not." Immith emotionlessly recalled her past over a cup of warm honey tea "I had opted to help the hunters. I disguised myself as a wizard looking for help from the vampire to be able to get an audience with the head of the vampire family. 

He was an… interesting vampire. An elder vampire - he had lived for many centuries and fed on many men. To get such power and influence, he must have been a fierce fighter, but honestly, I have never seen him fight so I could not give my opinion. But… the hunters of the clan said that he used to battle five zealot paladins of the churches at once and walk out of the fight unscathed.

Yet… he welcomed me in and took care of my fake request for knowledge. He showed passion and expertise in many areas I honestly could not believe a vampire like him could care about. He showed interest in human's poetry, he was fond of elven music, and he enjoyed dwarven wine.

But I knew what my mission was… to decapitate the head of the snake that is the vampire family. I knew I could not physically harm an elder vampire, so I came prepared. In my travels back when I was an adventurer like you, Charleston, I had obtained a curious cursed phylactery. It had the power to curse the mightiest creature to eternal slumber. So I did it, I showed him the trinket and tricked him to open it. He was then put to sleep.

I… escaped with much difficulty. I could never have guessed that many of the vampires in the family were not as friendly and docile as the elder. In fact, it was only he who could force them into servitude. But now, as the elder vampire was taken out of the equation, all hell broke loose.

The crazed vampires turned on the pacifist ones, then they spread out and claimed territory and terrorized any humanoid settlements.

I was then hunted. The friendly and pacifist vampires wanted me to break the curse to return order to their family. The rest wanted me because I was a human, and I ventured into their lair and left unscathed, which was somehow blasphemy to them, I dare guess.

Some contact of mine had read about a tome, a magical tome created by an ancient priest. The tome contained much knowledge about vampires, including much unknown to us nowadays. And the priest had prayed for 5 days and 5 nights to imbue the tome with arcane essence, with the divine power from an ancient god, to essentially deter any vampire from ever touching the tome. 

If I can find it, I believe the vampire will unlikely to continue targeting me, at least until the vampire-hunting clan finally eradicates the remaining of that accursed family."

"This… tome. You followed it here? In Niliphy?" Charlie inquired a tired Immith. She set the tea cup down and leaned onto her lying chair. Her wound from the surprise attack of the dhampir was healed, but the blood loss and the fatal amount of giant spider venom in her system required much time for her to fully recover. 

Her facial expression was grim and tired. Her pale skin now had bruise-like spots all over from the toxin still in circulation.

Immith nodded simply.

"Yes. The headmaster of the Niliphy magic institute had contacted me about the recent  discovery of an ancient tomb by a group of adventurers of the guild. And she revealed that the tomb was the final resting place of at least 20 priests of a church dedicated to a god that no longer exists.

I rushed over to Niliphy, that I did. And I admit, in the excitement I might have overlooked some precaution. Which, you might have guessed, invited our unfortunate guest here.

That is, or rather was, a dhampir, a hybrid between a vampire and a human. Although she was weaker than a full fledged vampire, a dhampir had many advantages such as not being turned to ash in direct sunlight, or it could enter my mansion without my invitation.

I now fully believe that fate has sent you to help me, Charleston. If it was not for you, I would not be alive. For that, I'm eternally grateful."

"Are you still up for the trade we were discussing before?" Charlie asked.

"But of course!" Immith exclaimed "Please find the tome for me, and I promised to help with your research. With my extensive contacts all over both continents, I believe that we might come up with something worthwhile."

"This tome… where is it now? You said the guild had it?"

"Unfortunately… This afternoon, the tome was auctioned off by the guild. They did not know the tome was magical in nature, either by negligence or the divine magic actually hid its presence to those who do not know, so they sold it to a baron. I tried to stop the transaction myself - that's why I went out this evening. But fate wanted me to meet you, I assumed, because the wagon delivering the tome to the baron's estate was hijacked and the tome, alongside with every piece of treasure in there, was stolen. I was one step slower, so in desperation, I casted a tracking spell on one of the thieves who I thought was the leader of the gang.

And the rest you are already familiar with, Charleston."

Familiar indeed. Charlie could still feel the intensity of the dhampir's gaze upon him when he thrusted his dagger into her torso. He had battled many humanoid, goblins, orcs, hobgoblins and even bandits. He had slayed his fair share of lives in the months he ventured out with his adventuring party. Yet as he took the life from the dhampir - a creature living half a life, he felt terrible. 

But the past was the past. With Immith's help, he had buried her ashes and moved on to more pressing matters.

Charlie pressed the golden door handle and entered the interdimensional mansion of the Archlibrarian Immith, where the sun and moon moved to her wish and food and drinks a plenty. 

The woman herself was leaning on her lying chair, enjoying her steaming hot cup of tea. 

Charlie handed her the tattered tome and threw his body into a mighty comfortable armchair. He had been working hard the past few days to trace the location of the thieves' leader as Immith's tracking spell was dropped when she went unconscious.

But in the end, he had found a beaten old book. The cover of the book looked as if the slightest drop would disintegrate the entire tome.

  "Mmm… I can see your disbelief showing, Charleston. I can assure you, this is the turquoise tome. I can see its divine energy clearly emanating into a protective sheen around itself to deter most from identifying it easily."

"But… why?" Charlie nodded thank you to the transparent humanoid servant as he received his cup of beverage - a fruit wine made of pear fermented with honey. "Why try to hide the book? Why not handing it down to generations to… stop the vampire completely?"

"The priest who made this tome… was a vampire himself, Charleston." Immith said, not looking at a bewildered Charlie "He wished humanoids and vampire kinds could lead a peaceful coexistence together. But he understood most clearly the insanity that is the urge and instinct of a vampire. 

He wanted other kinds to have a chance fighting against vampire kinds. You might not know this Charleston, but long ago, before the first skirmish of the great war of the Fatal Era even started, the vampires dominated the land. They could reproduce quickly, their superior strength and speed gave a dangerous edge to their combat capability, their healing power was unmatched… it was terrible, it truly was. 

But then the gods were angry, and they bestowed their blessings onto other species and cursed the vampire kinds to burn if the sun could graze them. Which caused most vampires to join the demon lord's army in the great war.

Well… take a look for yourself, Charleston."

The arcane wielder released the tome to float in midair as she performed several gestures with her arms. She closed her eyes and mumbled a chant, as if reading a mantra religiously. 

The trinkets on her neck rattled.

Her silver hairs slowly moved on their own.

Immith produced a blue crystal decanter from her sleeve and poured the clear liquid inside onto the tome.

As the first drop hit the cover, a brilliant azure flash took over the room. Charlie raised his hands and closed his eyes from the sudden burst of light.

The magic caster yelled out words of arcane, which each word pronounced, the light only got brighter and more intense. Charlie could feel his skin warmed up and hairs on his body stood up completely.

And gradually, the light died down before revealing Immith holding a bright blue tome on one hand, its pages flipped constantly as if a gust of wind was blowing through the tome.

The tome was beautifully crafted - its cover was not a static turquoise but it had a marble-ish texture as the color shifted and curled at certain parts. Its metal hinges and edge covers were made of silver metal without a bit of stain and on two sockets were no longer coal lumps but two beautiful azure gems.

"Behold… the turquoise tome of the late high priest Satinav of the lost churches" Immith breathed through her mouth.

Charlie and Immith both stared at the tome on her hand silently, admiring the craftsmanship of the legendary tome before their eyes. 

"Are you going to eradicate the vampires with the tome?" Charlie asked

"No. Charleston, listen. I do not wish violence on the vampires. I'm merely… defending myself against the crazed ones who… seemed to be under influence of 'the Ancient one', whatever that is. I was foolish to get roped into the constant struggle of the vampires and their hunters. Not anymore, I do not wish to be involved anymore. Hell, I might try to bring the elder vampire back if the hunters could not contain their mistakes.

But that's enough about me.

Here, Charleston. You can hold onto the tome."

But of course, Immith's line struck Charlie speechless. After all of her effort in finding the tome, she would now hand it to him? 

"Wh.. What? Why? I don't understand…"

"It's simple. I have promised to help you with your research, and to find out more about your scroll and your other questions, I will need to hold onto the scroll for some time. It is a fair trade, and the tome will be the guarantee. I will hold onto your precious, and you hold onto mine."

Phrasing…

"But the vampires, they might attack you again…"

"I could say the same to you, Charleston. Blood of a dhampir has stained your hands, and the vampires are an unnaturally perceptive bunch.

Before, I admit I was careless. Never again, I say, never again. You will hold onto the turquoise tome, and I will not take no for an answer.

Now, Charleston, it's high time we find out why in the high heaven that the gods blessed you with this boon."