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His name was Doug.

And the man chasing after him was—they were nobody of importance. They were a random Guardsman who saw him filching and now they were in the midst of a chase. His blood pumped as he pounded on the ground, pushing his legs to move faster without toppling over and losing his balance. And for a Level 5 Thief, this was actually a little harder than he thought and that was despite him getting [ Nimble Steps ] as his most recent Skill.

The darkness was already on its way and overlooking the city, as the day gave way into the night but the Guardsman didn't give up at all for whatever reason.

All he took was a purse from some unsuspecting woman on the street and now he got himself into this. The woman looked like she had more than enough money, so why couldn't they share it? He zigzagged through the crowds of people, ignored the cries of the Guardsman calling for someone to stop him, ducking and maneuvering through people as he pushed past. He needed to get to the slums. Once he got there, the Guardsman would be ill-damned to look after every nook and cranny for him—

Thud.

The boy looked up a second later at an old man with grey hair and dark eyes and it didn't even take him a second to feel a tingle down his spine. It shot through his spine like electricity. This guy was scarier than the Guardsman. [ Threat Measurement ] was working too well and then he was hauled up to his feet. A young man besides the old man helped him up, they looked like their grandson or something. "Be careful with where you're going boy—"

"That's a Thief!"

He stomped on the young man's foot and bolted away. Each moment meant life or death—freedom or pain, and he wasn't going down at all. Finally eyeing a dark alleyway, the boy skidded through there and stuck to the shadows. He caught his breath and breathed deeply through his nose. They didn't see him right?

"What do you have there, boy?" 

His heart leapt then and there, a cold smile bore down on him from a woman kneeling in front of him. They had black hair and blue eyes that sent a freezing look at him, two more other people were behind her—and this was bad. Especially if the rumors he heard were true.

Doug tried to move the pouch behind his back but to no avail.

A soft sigh escaped the woman's lips, "Too scared to speak? Now that's a shame but based on how you look and the purse in your hands, I'd say you were a Thief. A Mugger? Er… anyway, I think it's best that you give this to us."

"O-or what!" He wished he didn't stumble at the start as he tried to give a brave look. Even if the girl was the prettiest girl he had seen, it didn't mean that she was nice. Mia always warned him about this. Doug gulped and wondered if this older big sister was going to eat him alive.

The woman glanced behind over her shoulder, two silhouettes revealing themselves. One of them gave a shrug as an answer and the other didn't say anything at all and so the woman blew her lips and finally snatched the purse out of his hands. "What is it with Hum—people these days with no proper way of taking care of themselves."

He had a knife in his pocket. 

The woman's words barely registered in his mind, he tried to lower his arm down into his pocket. And though he only used it to rip through bags and occasionally nicked himself more than a few times—he was tempted to lash out and take the purse back. That was if he could only move and get through his fear. His fingers twitched, his palms sweaty along with his back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

.. .

Timothy sucked in a deep breath and fought the urge to curse. He bent over and tried not to buckle down. The Guardsman hurtled past him and the old man, chasing after the kid that stomped on his feet. Too immersed in hunting down the boy to even bother a glance at either of them.

"Are you alright?"

"Do I look okay?" He snapped.

The old man snorted, "You kids these days are too weak, you should be able to get a fist in the gut and remain standing even after that and throw a punch of your own. What exactly has the Academy been teaching you kids?"

"Why thank you." Timothy rolled his eyes and picked up his bag. He slung it across his shoulders, "I happen to have bad luck is all, happens to all of us. Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta head back before the curfew."

"Alright, stay safe."

He didn't think that an old man like him would even say anything remotely like that, but once he glanced back over his shoulders—the old man was already gone and lost in the crowd. He didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. Not that it mattered in the scope of things when they were probably going to visit Kraelonia Academy soon enough.

And he needed to find a guy who looked kind of like Han.

Whatever the old man wanted with Han, family matters and all that, he didn't trust it one bit. It was much better that he show them to some random buffoon and let them assume the rest—and that was regardless of the money. He added it to his belongings, who would turn down free money?

But before he actually went back—he caught the whiff of something that made his stomach growl.

"Better I buy her something here," He approached one of the food stalls that only seemed to brighten up instead of actually closing down. And Timothy did this despite the fact that he still needed to confront that girl for messing up with his things—he narrowed his eyes but brought them something to eat regardless of their actions.

He had an idea on what she possibly did, but hopefully she didn't do much trouble with it.

.

.

.

.

.

It was crimson and it stained everywhere, the stench of iron filled the dormitory room. Iolanthe was bleeding from multiple orifices. The young woman choked on her blood—and that was how Timothy stumbled upon her when he came back.

He froze.

Tome lay on the floor along with the young woman. Iola wiped her the blood with her arm, her eyes were squeezed shut but something trickled out the corner of her eyes. They were tears… of blood? What exactly had happened. His mind knew the answer but he was speechless.

She was shaking or it was him who shook at the sight.

He couldn't tell which was which.

He dropped his bag then and there. "What are you doing—?" The sound of something crashing behind him made him curse, those where his healing potions. He stepped towards her and she instinctively inched away from him and fended him off. Or rather she was throwing one of her arms out and flailing it at the air. Until she choked again and spat something up from her throat, a mixture of fluids that he didn't want to know. 

His mind was blanking.

"S-stay there!"

And before she could even make a sound or say anything at all—he was gone.

He ran out of the room. He ran faster than normally he could as he tried to get into the Potions Classroom and found it locked, he shook the doorknob and cursed. Shaking his head, there was only one place he could head on to, he needed to find Han and—he collided with someone and stumbled backwards. The cloaked figure looked at him, and they were obviously aghast.

Elliot narrowed his eyes at him, "We have an appointment—"

"Healing potion—d-do you have one?" He gripped the younger boy's shoulders. "I need one please." Timothy heard the quaver in his tone and ignored it. His thoughts were already running as the boy jerked away from him and clicked his tongue.

"What do you need...fine, here." Elliot ended up taking one from his bag and handed it towards him. The younger boy gave him a look, "...Do you need any assistance of sorts?"

Timothy grabbed the bottle and held it in his hand—looked at the boy and shook his head. "No. Not right now, but the… appointment."

"Perish the thought, you seem to be in an emergency." Elliot frowned but didn't push his offer any further.

And yet it was obvious that they wanted to know.contemporary romance

But they couldn't.

"Thank you and I'm sorry." Timothy Cook turned his back from the boy and ran back to his own room. Cursing himself. His own blood ran cold at the sight in his room. He hadn't seen anything like this—he didn't like it when the Butcher chopped off Becky's cows and other animals, although he had been forced to watch it before as a boy who had to learn about it.

But this wasn't an animal.

It was Iola.

"I'm back." He wasn't even sure if she could hear him.

The young man stepped back into the room and carefully avoided the puddles of blood and tried to breathe in as naturally as he could. Timothy knelt beside her and uncorked the bottle, and yet he winced at her upon closer inspection. Snot and other fluids were visible on her face and he reached out as slowly as he could. 

"Iola, are you okay? Alright, dumb question. Can you drink this potion?" Direct intake was the best way to benefit from the Healing Potion—and it did seem to be an internal issue. There were no visible wounds or anything like that. 

But she wasn't answering.

done.co