Gileth and Kyla. These are the names of two of the most important figures in Költonos’ ancient and convoluted history and yet, you will never hear them mentioned outside of the shadows, for theirs is a story of infamy and sin. So, gather around – ladies, gentlemen, all others, children and inquisitive minds alike - and listen closely; this tale is a lesson from the great Moonshadow himself…

Our story begins under a cloud-covered night’s sky with only the hint of a full moon to act as a guiding hand. The city of Yggrisa, capital of northern Költonos, had fallen silent, for these were the deepest hours of the night, where most would be living in dreams. Some, however, do not abide by such conventions and thus, two shadows moved through the streets, barely making a sound. They were moving towards the mansion of Ilwariu Marsen, a member of both the North Star Trader’s Guild and the ruling council of Költonos, and who was known by the commoners as the Debauched Banker, which, of course, was a rather typical title for men of his class. The mansion, a three storied building resembling the shape of a horseshoe, would have been fit for the Frosted Queen of Költonos herself, if she didn’t already inhabit the Palace of a Thousand Frozen Spires, a home far more grandiose, spectacular and expensive than anything Ilwariu could ever hope to construct, despite his innumerous attempts: His winter-rose garden, spacious music hall, covetous collections and generous providing of work for scores of proletarians. Such a place was well-guarded, of course, even during these hours, and so the two stopped to talk and revise their plan of attack.

It was Gileth, who first opened his mouth. “We ought to be able to get in without being seen. Distract the guardsmen, so I can silence them.” They had studied the grounds the night before, and both knew exactly where to strike. However, a reminder never hurt anyone, or so the twins were convinced.

“Quiet, if you can, brother.” Kyla drew her curved Bow of Whispers out from under her cloak. A quiver hung tightly by her side as to not wriggle around. She knocked an arrow, put her lips close to the bowstring and whispered a single command: “Path”.

Gileth quietly added: “Four shots left.”

As the arrow flew, an ethereal rope manifested behind it, linked to the spot on the ground where Kyla tapped her bow. She had aimed for the top of the iron fence that protected the estate from trespassers, thieves and the occasional angry customer, and when the arrow hit its target - as the shadows knew it would, for Kyla had a keen eye and her aim was true - a pathway was made for those skilled enough to cross it. The twins were more than that. They were masters of stealth, strong of body and mind, and together, few locks and walls had ever kept them out. They had suffered failure of course, as every human will, but they had always managed to bounce back. The Thief’s Guild – a name the organization had taken only to mock the city’s established power structure – had continuously been so impressed with their ability that they had commissioned the crafting of very special tools for Gileth and Kyla, so that they could take on more difficult tasks without fear. Kyla’s bow was one and its sibling was about to be brandished.

Once they were over the fence, the next challenge, if you will, came in the form of a singular guardsman walking up and down a path in the luxurious garden, which was the object of many a nobleman’s envy in the Platinum District. The twins were crouching behind a large bush when he made his round past them, and at the exact moment that they were out of his field of vision, Kyla stood up and whispered, “light”. A dazzling white streak flew across the starless sky, truly a sight of wonder for the oblivious that would not immediately perceive the mundane and not at all celestial nature of the phenomena. Their target was locked in amazement over this wonderous sight and thus he failed to notice the shadow that crept up behind him. Gileth stood up, pulled forth his own enchanted weapon, the Knife of Paralysis, with which he gently poked the man’s neck. The enchantment immediately took effect and a spell infused all his muscles, cramping them and preventing him from making as much as a squeak. Then, Gileth embraced him and pulled him down behind the bush, where Kyla slit his throat with her dagger. The infusion would only last for a few minutes, but they needed the man to remain out of the game for longer than that. It was brutal, I know, but the twins were not good people, not by the standards of civilized folk. After this nasty deed was done, they made sure the body remained hidden, at least until daybreak, and continued along their chosen path.

Ilwariu Marsen’s garden was built around a web of trails framed by what would look like a rectangle to an eagle looking down. In between, to the side of and sometimes above these trails were a variety of well-kept trees, bushes, flowers and hedges, growing alongside roaming wildlife and creaking streams that froze over in the colder months of the year - which for Költonos was nine out of twelve - but the real pride and prize of this immense display of wealth was the bed of winter-roses that crowned the middle of the garden. These white-blue flowers are rare, even in the North, and are traditionally a symbol of the Frosted Queen, the nation’s symbolic leader and Mother - and Költonos is very traditional and has always been so, which itself has become a tradition. To keep such flowers privately and even name one’s entire garden around them was to align oneself with the Queen’s power and position: A subtle, yet popular tactic amongst the upper class.

Usually, there were many guards scattered around the greenery, but not during the night, when all was dark and quiet. Therefore, the twins had a far easier time moving around unseen than they would have had otherwise, and this was, after all, why they had chosen this time to commit their heinous act of burglary. They had now reached a lower window facing the garden that the Guild’s associate inside the mansion - a servant unhappy with her current salary - had left open. Kyla whispered once more, a path emerged, and the twins hurried up and inside. However, a guardsman hired to prevent exactly this kind of criminality was coincidently making his round up a staircase and past the window in time to see a hooded figure crawl into the light.

“Alarm!” he shouted. “Intruders!” Then he pulled forth his broadsword from its scabbard. The cloaked figure responded in kind by brandishing a wicked-looking knife, long and crocked, with a sickly, green hue to it. It dashed in close to the poor man, bringing the knife down towards his face. In his panicked state, he managed to block the attacker’s arm. He then brought his own weapon up and drove it forward towards the shadow-clad area that he assumed had to be the cloaked creature’s face. Truth be told, the guard hadn’t yet had time to realize that he was fighting another man; in his mind, he was facing a monstrous wraith with murderous intent.

And that last description was quite true, for Gileth did not plan to let this obstacle stand in his way for long. He nimbly dodged under the larger blade, which was at a disadvantage when the opponent was so close, and now found himself behind the guardsman. With a quick gesture, he pricked the man’s exposed neck - a weakness of most lesser Költonian armor. The infusion spread in a matter of moments, and before he could know what was going on, the man was paralyzed. Then, an arrow penetrated his right eye.

As Kyla jumped onto the smooth wooden floor, now tainted with tiny droplets of blood, Gileth made to throw the body out the window, but his sister stopped him. “Listen,” she said. “They heard him. We have to get out of here.”

Gileth looked at her, a sudden and utterly misplaced grin flashing on his stubby face. “You’re going to let a few scrawny southerners stop you? We have a job to finish, and I intend to do so. You with me?”

Kyla bid back her momentary caution, despite her better judgement. “Of course, brother. Go to the banker’s study. I’ll see to the bloodbath. Hurry though. We won’t have much time.”

“Alright. I’ll come back here when I have the target.” As the words left his mouth, Gileth pulled a dull ring forth from his pocket. It was a simple silver band with no adornments, but it held a powerful secret. This artifact was known as the Obscure Ring and had been a prize taken by the siblings from an old wench, whom they had caught spying on the Thief’s Guild. Both the twins already possessed the seemingly magical, but completely natural, ability to almost meld with the shadows around them. Gileth, however, truly became a shadow, when he slipped the Obscure Ring onto his left ring finger and vanished from sight. The effect wouldn’t last forever, though, nor could it be used again immediately thereafter.

Kyla heard his soft footfalls move away before she turned her attention to the hall opening up at the end of the staircase that she was standing at the top of. Below her, multiple armed figures were gathering, some of them seemingly having just tumbled out of bed.

Perfect, she thought.

Raising her bow, she softly whispered “fire” to the weapon and a red hue suddenly surrounded the arrowhead. As the opportune moment arose and a dozen guards stood together, she exhaled and released. Two shots to go.

The arrow cut through the air and sent ripples outwards as it did so. The poor men never saw it coming, the inferno and the terrible smell of burning flesh. The infusion on the arrow had made the projectile into a firebomb.

Kyla watched with grim satisfaction as her attack killed all but one of the guards. He had managed to duck behind one of his comrades as he thought the arrow was aimed at him, but the cover had done little more than save him the brunt of the flames. He stood now, badly wounded and hurting - but as a true Költonian would, he stood tall and proud, sword raised.

He started running up the stairs, but suddenly halted as another arrow shaft protruded out from his shoulder. Slowly, he raised his foot to take another step, not yet giving up on his duty and his feral, and quite misguided, instinct to fight this foe. Then, finally, Kyla’s arrow ended him by way of penetrating his right eye. His body fell backwards down the stairs, landing with a heavy thump. Once again, Kyla exhaled and prepared herself to halt any others who would think to approach the stairs.

In the meantime, Gileth found his way around the second floor, through a series of rooms including a kitchen, a child’s bedroom and a pantry before he finally arrived inside the patriarch’s study. As he stepped inside the slightly opened door, he breathed deeply and took a moment to focus his perception; a completely unnecessary action, as the primary object of attention in the ostentatious room was sitting in plain sight behind an enormous and yet neatly organized desk. The lord Marsen himself. Gileth, being astutely aware of his and his sister’s luck in not alarming the elderly man, took a single, careful step under the shroud of his ring. Marsen did not react. Then, Gileth took another. And another. And another, until he found himself standing behind the oak and leather chair. In the span of a slow breath, he unsheathed the Knife of Paralysis and drew it closer to the exposed neck, and as he exhaled, he grabbed the forehead and brought the edge of the blade close to Marsen’s throat. He made very sure, though, to not draw blood, as this would trigger the weapon’s enchantment.

Quietly, as the illusion around him vanished, he whispered ever so faintly and without betraying his Highlander accent: “Where is the prototype and the schematic for Mordentimer’s newest design? Tell me, and you get to live. Point with your left hand.”

Upon hearing a threat to his life, a lesser man’s will would have crumbled, and all secrets would have been spilled. Such, however, was not the way of a proud lord of Költonos, a member of the ruling council. No, upon hearing Gileth’s threat, Ilwariu Marsen remained utterly calm and stoic, expecting his guards to come to his aid. Unrelenting, Gileth pushed further: “Be reasonable here, my lord, you are not only holding your life, but also the life of little Serani in your hands. Give me what I want, and your daughter’s sleep won’t be extended to eternity.”

Upon hearing that name and sensing the evil pragmatism of the thief, Marsen’s muscles tensed. A moment passed. Then, slowly, a hand was raised, and a finger pointed to a painting of a lean man in silver armor fighting off a kraken. Under his hood, Gileth smiled and said: “Thank you, my lord,” before he pricked the elder man in neck. And as Ilwariu Marsen sat stiff in his chair, unmoving and barely breathing, the thief removed the painting and revealed an iron and lead save with a relatively small keyhole. He cursed softly under his breath, pulled out a set of tools and placed two lockpicks inside the mechanism. Unfortunately for Gileth - and by extension Kyla, who was still fighting guardsmen at this point -, this lock was more complicated than any he had ever encountered before. He pulled back, breathed deeply, and tried again.

A sharp cling sound was heard as one of the lockpicks broke.

Gileth growled and pulled out a small pincher, which he dexterously used to remove the broken pick from the lock. He only had one other set of lockpicks. Very carefully, he went to perform the motion that he had performed hundreds of times before.

A set of clicks resonated from within the safe, which then swung open effortlessly and, more importantly, silently. Inside, a small amulet - similar to the holy symbols carried by myself and my siblings in faith - lay on a piece of parchment filled with drawings and arcane symbols, some of which Gileth recognized from previous jobs. He quickly snatched both objects and placed them in his satchel, which he then carefully sealed. It was in that same moment that the infusion on the lord of the house started to wear off and he yelled at the top of his lungs:

“GUARDS! TO THE STUDY! THIEF!”

Gileth spun around and sprinted out the door, trusting in his hood and cloak to cover his ashen-pale hair and snowy skin - the marks of the Highlander. He dashed as fast as he could down the hallway and back to where Kyla still stood, lording over a steadily growing mound of bodies. An arrow was notched and halfway pulled. Upon hearing her brother’s soft footfalls, she spun in place, whispered a curse, and leapt out the window, Gileth heartbeats behind her. Kyla landed with a scurry, her tall and broad frame every bit as mobile as it was strong. In his haste, however, Gileth wasn’t careful, his foot slipped on the window sill, and he fell a few meters before landing forcefully and loudly on the cold, unforgiving ground. To the left of them, two shouts sounded - and then a third, delayed, as if the guard hadn’t heard the fall, but simply reacted to his comrades. Gileth kicked himself to his feet and caught up to Kyla, who hadn’t been idle and had made a pathway for them to get over the fence once more. Both the twins leapt over the top of the barrier, landed and rolled as the guards reached the magical rope. All three of them attempted the climb, but they were wearing heavy armor and had never performed such an action before; only one of them managed to stay on. Unfortunately for him, as he reached the top of the fence and was about to take the leap, Kyla stroked her bowstring ever so softly and the rope disappeared. The guard fell, earned himself some bruises, but was otherwise unscathed by the ordeal. The Twin Shadows then fled into the night.

As such organizations often are out of necessity and, perhaps, style, the Thief’s Guild of Yggrisa was largely based in a system of ancient, underground tunnels, spiraling in and out, emerging only into the city proper where it was either safe or profitable. As such, every member quickly learned to memorize the easiest routes through the maze-like structures, since the consequences of getting lost could be quite fatal. The tunnels housed more scum than simply criminals: Overgrown rats, venomous spiders and even the occasional troll could be found down there. Therefore, the twins always stayed to the well-lit and well-trodden paths, although Kyla couldn’t deny that she had often felt the tug of adventure when staring into the shadowy abyss, the depth of which was entirely unknown.

Gileth, however, never did feel comfortable among sewer waste and the looming threat of death.

While the Guild used the tunnels frequently as both meeting places, escape routes and business paths, their main hub of operations was found in the middle of the city-wide cobweb. A vast, underground marketplace referred to as the Finder’s Thoroughfare - an homage to the old adage of finders and keepers, beloved by thieves - stretched out as far as the eyes could see and was filled with tents and huts, booths and taverns, all serving to mimic the city markets above. People were selling stolen trinkets, buying fenced goods, having a merry time away from duties and traditions or otherwise partaking in activities not provided by the Frosted Queen, the Ruling Council, the nobles nor the legitimate guilds. Such was the bread and butter of the Thief’s Guild; appealing to the vices and sins of lesser people, siphoning them for their hard-earned coin in the meantime.

The twins loved it.

In the streets above, the hooded, cloaked and armed figures would have been recognizable, if not still anonymous. Down here, they were two of a thousand shadows moving around, faceless but busy as rats. Many customers, those who indulged, wanted to still preserve their identity, as if wearing a mask will hide your heart before the Moon’s Shadow when your time comes. Unfortunately for the lawful enforcers above the surface, this tendency made it difficult to ever differentiate between agents of the Guild and their cliental, and while both were indeed guilty of crimes, the severity differed by quite a lot. Besides, none who were not invited would find their way to the Thoroughfare safely.

In the center of the Thoroughfare, a mansion-like structure stood erect and as proud as anything in the sewers can stand. The twins walked resolutely through the crowds, shoving an older man here and moving around an urchin there, in its direction, but instead of walking to the front door and knocking, they skulked to the back of the two-story building and past it. There, the entrance to the true headquarter was hidden, a dark pathway covered in secrecy for all but the initiated. It was the entrance to an old tomb built beneath Yggrisa for whatever foul reason, now reused for degeneracy. Quietly, Kyla and Gileth slipped down underneath the Finder’s Thoroughfare.

The sight that met them was quite different in both purpose and poise when compared to the busy market directly above them, the sounds of which were effectively muffled by stone. An office-space stretched out with desks, chests and the sound of paper being turned. A dozen people all equally busy with organizational work, using the term ‘work’ somewhat generously, scurried around, paying for a job well done here, signing a document there and storing away some journal entry way back in the corner. One of the individuals, a young girl with barely a score winters past her, noticed the presence of the two and made a gesture to them before finishing the task she had been occupied with. To Kyla’s eye, it looked like the sorting of loot in a larger chest. With a heavy click, the girl shut close the lid and sealed it with a heavy lock that the twins knew to be far more intricate that it looked, simply another of the Guild’s deceptions. The lithe youth then turned her attention to the newcomers, and with great dexterity and well-practiced skill she made it through the hive of somewhat crammed workers.

“Kyla. Gileth. Good to see both of you back in one piece.” The girl’s voice was as spry as one would expect of a Költonian youth, but her accent betrayed an education far higher than anyone moving in the sewers ought to have.

“Cecilia. Good to see you too and not all too caught up in the papers, eh?” Gileth wove a small portion of teasing humor into his voice, earning him an equally subtle stink eye from his sister.

“I take it the home of the Debauched Banker wasn’t too much of an issue for you, then? Did you run into any trouble that we ought to be on the lookout for?” While talking, Cecilia pulled a small pouch from her belt and started counting its content.

“Nothing we could not handle. You know us, quick in, quick out, job’s done…”

“You forgot to mention the scorched corpses in the main hall, brother.”

“I… was getting to that part.”

“You left scorched bodies in the main hall?”

“It was quick.”

“Still? There was no better way?”

Instead of continuing down what he knew would end in a lecture on pragmatism and professionalism, Gileth reached into his satchel after undoing its sealing and produced the amulet and the parchments. Cecilia reached for them carefully and quickly examined it all before placing it in her own satchel and closing a similar seal to that Gileth used. She sighed. “You cannot argue with results.”

Gileth sent her a half-charming, half-stupid grin that quickly faded after his upper arm was introduced to Kyla’s fist. By a slight margin, she was the tallest of the two, with both of them almost half a head taller than most Költonians thanks to their Highlander blood, and while Gileth was stronger than she, her fist still packed a punch.

Cecilia, relatively unperturbed by the typical sibling interaction, continued: “Well done. This,” she consulted the parchments, “’Arcanum Auditorium’ will fetch us a decent price with our buyer.”

“Speaking off… oh! Thanks.” Kyla caught the pouch tossed to her midair.

“That should take care of that, I believe. We do not have another assignment for you right now, so enjoy your downtime.” With that, Cecilia give a short smile and an amused wink at Kyla, who returned the gesture with the very astute knowledge that the purpose of the exchange would remain a mystery to Gileth, a fact she relished in quite a lot. Then, the Twin Shadows went back up into the Finder’s Thoroughfare to spend their ill-earned money and indulge in their vices, all the while blissfully unaware of the consequences of their actions that night and the impact that these would have on the rest of Költonos and the entirety of the continent of Tarensia.

And that, darling audience, marks the end of tonight’s story. Now, where did I put my book… Oh, you want more, do you now? You are really testing my vocal cords. Ah-ah, okay then. Allow me to enlighten you on this very important piece of Vaft’s history, incited by two avaricious thieves from the Land of Ice and Snow, although, they did not know it. Sit back, however, for you have now gotten me started and I shall not settle for the abridged version of these events; no, you shall get the full story of the Twin Shadows.

The drama is part of my job, dear. Now, no more interruptions.

The twins spent their next few days indulging in pricy shopping sprees and partying with their friends and associates within the Guild. That is to say, Kyla partied – dancing, drinking and delightfully making sure that anyone without the required decency understood that a Highlander’s ‘no’ is supported by her brawn – while Gileth spent most of his evening sobbing in the corner as the liquor had revealed to him truths otherwise best left to only Moonshadow’s awareness. Eventually, both of them sobered up and came down from the high of a task completed and went back to their more productive habits. Gileth spent some time working on his lockpicking and pickpocketing skills as a way to ensure that the issue he had ran into in Marsen’s study would be a one-time trouble for him. Kyla gave in to her urge of exploration, turning her attention and skills to one of the darker tunnels connecting to the Finder’s Thoroughfare, one burrowing deeper into the world lost beneath Yggrisa. Packing a quiver filled with two dozen arrows, the Bow of Whispers itself, enough rations to last her most of a day and of course a couple of torches, the young woman began her expedition. She would have relied on her bow’s infusion of light, had it not only lasted while the arrow was in the air. Many times she had thought to bring that up with the enchanter who had crafted the bow, and many times she had postponed it due to a lack of immediate necessity.

This was not a used sewer tunnel, much to Kyla’s luck. At first, the adventure revealed nothing more than bare stone and the truth that hunger finds a person with the speed of a scared rabbit when one is simply walking in boredom. Ignoring the voice in her head that spoke of how well the dried meat of the rations would taste, Kyla kept going in the darkness. She had not yet ignited a torch, as she preferred to remain as hidden as possible for as long as she could, but that soon became the past, as she found herself in what her mind might as well have perceived as a void had there not been stone under her boots. Carefully, and relying on her sense of touch only, Kyla found a torch in her pack, placed it between her thighs, pulled the bow and an arrow before quietly whispering “fire”. The arrowhead took on the crimson hue and she carefully touched the torch with it, instantly igniting the wax at its end. Even with the bow only slightly drawn, the power of the infusion was almost too much, but it worked out in the end. Had it not, Kyla realized as she had done so many times before, the simply act of lighting a torch could have been the end of her.

“Put that on my tombstone…”, she said out loud, the darkness naturally dampening her voice. Let us all pray that no insidious consciousness heard her.

Looking around in the torchlight, Kyla was momentarily stunned under the beauty of a thousand shattered colors reflecting off of as many crystal shards in the walls and the celling and even the floor. The chromatic wonder of masterfully crafted artistry was breathtaking and awe-inspiring… so much so that Kyla had a hard time comprehending that this was entirely natural. Perhaps some primordial creature had shaped this or maybe a divine being had influenced its creation. But no, the crystal caves of northern Tarensia are an entirely mundane phenomena, seen not only in Költonos, but also in the northern-most regions of Valis. Rumor even has it that such caves exist on the Island of Tosh and that the worshippers of the Lord of Eyes use them for ritualistic purposes. Some of us take this to meaning that Tosh’s isle was originally a part of the continent before being sundered in some way, perhaps by the false god himself.

Child, if you did not wish to hear the entirety of the story, you should not have plagued me to tell it. Now, listen patiently, if you could.

“You want us to steal… what now?”

“’The Winter’s Warren’ was what she said, brother. Go on, Cecilia.”

“The Guild has been contracted to steal the Winter’s Warren from…” The hesitation in her voice betrayed her, as cracks in her professional façade were rare.

“I really don’t like where this one is headed”, Gileth said with his usual humor.

“… from the Palace of a Thousand Frozen Spires.”

“I don’t like where it went, either”, Kyla added, her face kept neutral as to not betray her emotions that currently fluxed between expectation, fear and thrill.

“I’m sorry, we must have misheard you. Did you just ask us to break into the home of the Frosted Queen herself?” Gileth tried very hard to keep his voice jolly despite him very well knowing that he had not misheard anything.

“Yes, that is the task that we have been hired to complete.”

“By whom? Who would have the audacity, not to mention the money, to even consider a burglary of that level?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, but I can tell you this: The prize for this job…”

“Probable death?”

“… is more than a thief sees in their lifetime.”

Not even Gileth had a comment to that. The twins simply shared a look that spoke a thousand words.

“We would need more information.” Kyla said cautiously. A member of the Thief’s Guild always had the right to refuse a job, but once a contract was accepted, there would be no getting out of it unless one was willing to pay the client out of one’s own pocket. With a job of this magnitude, such an action was impossible. The price was always proportional to the value of the targeted object. This system, while seemingly illogical, was put in place to prevent thieves from accepting a contract and then simply running away when things got difficult. The Guild, however, kept the right to undo a thief’s debt, if proof was found that a client had attempted to abuse the rules by actively sabotaging the thief. This had been necessary a few times throughout the Guild’s existence.

“Naturally. Here and here… read it thoroughly and then make your decision. We have already talked to other agents, but none have taken it – in fact, even Nina refused it. She called it ‘a job only a madwoman or an imbecile would take’, if I’m not mistaken.”

“I’m inclined to agree with her on that one,” Gileth said. “We’ll get back to you once we have looked this over.”

With that the twins took their leave from the office beneath the Thoroughfare and turned their feet towards their own quarters located in one of the underground bazar’s more calm and wholesome inns, the barely-known and rarely visited, except by a handful of regulars, Witch’s Respite. The inn-keep, an elderly gentleman by the name of Knud, who could almost always be found behind his counter cleaning some form of drinking container as a way to keep the old hands occupied – you laugh now, children –, invited the twins in with a warm smile as was his custom. For a person living in the sewers beneath the grand and ancient metropolis of Költonos, Knud was quite a respectable man, living his life in quiet dedication to the well-being of his fellows. Kyla and Gileth responded in kind before heading to their shared room upstairs and once there, Gileth immediately spun to face his sister.

“We agree this is something close to suicidal, no?”

“Breaking into the Palace of a Thousand Frozen Spires. It can’t be good for your health.”

“Don’t give me that look, Kyla. You want to do it!”

“Like you are any better. Maybe doing this will finally get Cecilia to notice you.”

“Excuse me?” Gileth took on an expression far more hurt than he actually felt.

“Anyway, what is it exactly we are to steal? ‘Winter’s Warren’? What even is that?”

“Not sure exactly, but I seem to remember having heard Nina speak of it once… a book, I think. Of state secrets, or something along those lines.”

Kyla frowned. Lightly, she tapped one line on the piece of paper that they had been given. “Isouri Guard. Cryomancers. I have heard tell of the Palace’s security, but I don’t know much. If we are to do this, we’ll need to scout out the place. And find a way in that does not involve pitting ourselves against mages in a domain made to compensate for their weaknesses.”

“True. Kyla, are we really this stupid? Are we really to take this job?”

“If we do it, we would be so filthy rich that we would never need to take another chance again.”

“And where is the fun in that…”

“We accept.”

“Splendid!” Cecilia clapped her hands in front of her. “Sign here and here.” Both of the twins did what was expected, although Gileth could not avoid sighing ostentatiously, as if he was signing away his soul.

“As per usual, it is entirely up to you how you go about handling the mission, but we do ask that you don’t drag the entirety of the Shields of Oron down here, if you could. There are no special restrictions on this task, as both the Guild and our client recognizes the difficulty of it.” Finishing her required briefing, Cecilia’s face softened a bit.

“Do be careful, though. I would hate to see two of the Guild’s best agents gone.”

Both of the twins smiled slightly in response, before heading out of the crammed office space and into the Finder’s Thoroughfare proper. There was much to discuss and much to plan if this terrible and yet very impressive sin was to be a success.

“Did you hear that? She would hate to see me gone. I knew she liked me.”

“Shut up!”