Ability Stealer

The sun hung low in the sky as Andrew and Mella exited the building, the late afternoon light casting long shadows over the cobblestone street.

Mella glanced at Andrew, who stuffed his hands into his pockets and gave her an expectant nod.

"There's a place not far from here," she said, motioning down the street. "Good food, decent prices."

Andrew followed her lead. "Sounds promising."

They walked in silence, the faint bustle of the city humming around them. Vendors hawked their wares, voices rising in a symphony of persuasion.

"Fresh fruit, ripe and juicy!" one vendor called, holding up a basket of oranges.

"Spiced bread, warm from the oven!" another chimed in, the aroma of baked goods mingling with the air.

A child's laughter rang out as a toy seller demonstrated a spinning top, the wooden trinket whirring across the cobblestones.

Distant chatter mingled with the occasional rumble of a passing cart. Andrew's eyes darted excitedly between the vendors, taking in the sights and sounds with a boyish grin.

"This place is alive," he said, smiling.

Mella's steps quickened, her expression calm and unhurried as they approached the restaurant, a modest building with a wooden sign depicting a fish leaping from a wave.

The aroma of roasted spices wafted through the air, making Andrew's stomach growl.

Inside, the restaurant was simple but inviting, with polished wooden tables and a low murmur of conversation.

A waiter approached almost immediately, a young man with a crisp apron and a welcoming smile. "Welcome. Can I recommend today's special?" he asked.

Andrew glanced at Mella, then back at the waiter. "What's ready now? We'll take whatever's fresh."

"Roasted fish with rice and seasonal vegetables," the waiter replied smoothly. "It's just come out of the kitchen."

Andrew nodded enthusiastically. "Perfect. Two plates, please."

The waiter bowed slightly and disappeared into the back, leaving Andrew and Mella to settle into chairs that creaked faintly under their weight.

Within minutes, plates of roasted fish, fragrant rice, and colorful vegetables were set before them. Andrew inhaled deeply, his eyes lighting up. "This looks amazing."

Mella picked up her fork, hesitating before she began to eat. "I wouldn't get too excited," she said dryly. "The fish here is decent, but I'm not a fan."

Andrew took a bite, savoring the smoky, spiced flavor of the fish. "You're kidding, right? This is fantastic."

Mella shook her head, chewing slowly. "I grew up eating fish. There was a river near my home. After a while, fish just… gets old."

"Can't relate," Andrew said between bites. "I could eat this every day."

A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Give it a year, and we'll see."

They ate in companionable silence for a while, punctuated by occasional remarks about the food. Andrew scraped his plate clean, while Mella left a small pile of uneaten fish on hers, pushing it aside in favor of the rice and vegetables.

"So," Andrew said, leaning back in his chair. "What's the plan?"

Mella considered this, her expression clouding. "We need money. But going into a realm where Hames could actually kill us? That's a gamble."

Andrew's jaw tightened. "Right. It's also so damn annoying that he thinks we are gullible enough to fall for his tricks."

"He's cocky," Mella admitted. "But honestly, Hames isn't even the worst of it. Croen's a bigger problem. He's the reckless impatient fool."

"Exactly," Andrew said. "Hames seems strategic, but Croen is only held back by Hames."

She nodded, pushing her plate aside. "So what do we do? Join a raid party?"

Andrew shook his head firmly. "Not happening. I'm not joining another party again. Not anytime soon. Not unless I'm the strongest in it."

"Then what?" she pressed, leaning forward. "We still need to make money. And you know reporting him isn't an option."

Andrew hesitated, then leaned in, lowering his voice. "Do you know Kellen?"

Mella's eyes widened. "Kellen? Of course. He's famous—and strong. One of the best."

Oh. That's a shocker.

"I've chatted with him before," Andrew said. "If we can explain the situation, maybe he'll help us. I'm sure he's strong enough, he must be if he's so famous."

And I don't feel bad about backstabbing Hames. He'd do the same to us in a heartbeat.

Mella studied him, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Alright. Let's find Kellen."

They left the restaurant, stepping back into the bustling street. Mella led the way with confident strides, weaving through the crowds. "He doesn't come to the city often," she explained, "but when he does, he's usually near the Rift Tower Restaurant."

"It has a restaurant too? Is it expensive?"

"Very."

Andrew followed.

The Rift Tower loomed ahead.

As they neared, the energy of the crowd shifted. People were rushing in one direction, their faces marked by shock and urgency.

"What's going on?" Andrew asked, his voice sharp.

Mella frowned, grabbing his arm to steer him toward the commotion. They pushed through the throng of onlookers until they caught sight of stretchers being carried into the Rift Tower's medical facility, the south side of the tower.

The injured were in bad shape—battered, bloodied, some barely clinging to life.

Andrew's eyes narrowed as he recognized a familiar face among the injured. "Croen," he muttered.

Mella's breath hitched as her gaze followed his. Croen lay unconscious on a stretcher, his face pale and bruised. Behind him, more stretchers arrived, carrying others in similar condition. Among them was Hames, conscious but visibly battered. His left arm was missing, the stump hastily bandaged.

"What the hell happened to them?" Andrew whispered.

Mella shook her head, her expression grim. "Whatever it was, it wasn't good."

Their plan to find Kellen was put on hold as they stood watching the stretchers disappear into the medical building. The air was filled with whispers and questions, but no one seemed to have any clear answers.

Andrew's thoughts raced, trying to make sense of it. Hames and Croen had been serious problems, but now they were beaten, weak. Someone or something had taken them down, and it was enough to make even Andrew feel a twinge of doubt.

Mella broke the silence. "So... I guess our problem is just solved? Easy like that. Just... coincidentally?"

Andrew tore his gaze away from the medical facility. "Yeah... Just coincidentally so."