Here's a teaser chapter for my current work in progress. Please note it hasn't been edited yet, so don't mind any typos, missing words, etc. As far as the story itself, those details won't be changed.
Chapter 1 - The Heist
Kael crouched on the edge of a narrow balcony, his dark cloak blending seamlessly into the latticework of the building’s architecture. The Elyssan Spire loomed above him, its golden veins pulsing faintly with the city’s lifeblood—a mix of magic and ancient technology fueled by mist crystals. Tonight, all of Aetherion was distracted by the Dragonlit Festival, celebrating the bond between dragons and their riders, a tradition older than the city itself. Kael intended to use that to his advantage.
From his position, he could see the sky bridges crisscrossing between towers, suspended as if by magic. Crowds thronged the streets below, their cheers rising as performers in dragon masks twirled and leapt, spitting bursts of harmless fire into the air. Lanterns shaped like dragon wings floated lazily above the revelers, their soft light illuminating the faces of children and elders alike. It was a beautiful distraction. Too beautiful, Kael thought grimly, for what he was about to do.
He adjusted the satchel slung across his back, checking its compartments one last time. Lockpicks, mist-dust, a glider harness. Everything he needed was there. The shard would fetch an unimaginable price from his mysterious employer—enough to disappear forever. If he lived to collect it, that was.
Kael took a deep breath and sprang from the balcony, landing softly on the adjoining platform below. The wind tugged at his cloak, and the distant hum of music and laughter seemed almost mocking. He slipped into the shadows, his footsteps muffled against the polished surface of the walkway.
The entrance to the Elyssan Spire was guarded by two armored sentries. Their red armor shimmered faintly, enhanced by enchantments that made them faster and stronger than ordinary men. Kael watched them for a moment, timing their movements. One guard yawned and turned away briefly, distracted by the distant sounds of the festival. It was all the opening Kael needed.
He slid a vial from his belt and threw it to the ground. A hiss of smoke rose instantly, curling around the guards like a living thing. They coughed and stumbled, their vision obscured as Kael darted past them, slipping through the heavy gilded doors and into the spire.
Inside, the air was cool and still, a stark contrast to the lively chaos outside. The sanctum’s corridors stretched out before him, a labyrinth of gilded walls and vaulted ceilings. Every surface was adorned with murals depicting the Drakesworn and their legendary dragons, locked in eternal battle against shadowy figures Kael couldn’t quite place. The artistry was breathtaking, but he had no time to admire it.
His boots barely made a sound as he navigated the halls, sticking close to the walls to avoid the pools of light cast by flickering torches. He knew the layout well—weeks of preparation had ensured that. Patrol routes, hidden passages, even the magical wards that protected the shard. He’d memorized them all.
He reached the sanctum door, a massive slab of metal inscribed with shimmering runes. The air around it buzzed faintly, a telltale sign of the ward’s power. Kael knelt and pulled a pouch of mist-dust from his satchel. The fine, silvery powder glimmered faintly as he sprinkled it over the runes. The air crackled, and the glowing symbols dimmed and fizzled out. Pulling his lockpick out, he set to work on the intricately designed lock that guarded the chamber door.
Minutes passed like hours as Kael worked, every click and turn of the picks echoing in the silent corridor. Just as he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow, he heard the satisfying snick of tumblers falling into place.
Kael pushed the door open carefully, the hinges groaning softly. Inside, the chamber was bathed in a pale, otherworldly light. At its center stood an ornate pedestal, and atop it rested the Shard of Erythra. Kael’s breath caught. The shard was smaller than he’d expected, no larger than his palm, but it radiated a pulsing energy that seemed almost… alive. Its surface shimmered like liquid fire, shifting between hues of crimson and gold.
He approached slowly, his fingers tingling as he reached out to touch it. The moment his hand closed around the shard, a strange resonance rippled through him. It wasn’t just energy; it was a presence, an awareness. For a fleeting second, Kael felt as though he were being watched—not by the guards, but by the shard itself.
Shaking off the unsettling sensation, he slipped the shard into a padded compartment of his satchel and turned to leave. The alarms began the instant he stepped into the corridor.
“Stop! Thief!” a voice bellowed, echoing through the sanctum. Kael cursed under his breath and broke into a sprint. The once-quiet halls erupted into chaos as guards poured in from every direction, their weapons drawn and their faces twisted with fury.
Kael’s heart pounded as he darted through the labyrinth, his feet barely touching the ground. Behind him, the clatter of boots grew louder, the shouts of the guards cutting through the noise of the festival outside. He turned a corner and burst through a side door, emerging onto one of the sky bridges. The open expanse sent a jolt of vertigo through him, but he didn’t slow down.
The festival unfolded below him, a blur of color and sound. Kael spotted a cluster of performers twirling flaming batons near the base of a spire, their audience oblivious to the chase happening above. He pulled his hood lower and reached into his satchel, retrieving a small glass orb. With a quick motion, he hurled it behind him. The orb shattered, releasing a dense cloud of silver mist that engulfed the bridge. The guards shouted in confusion, their movements disoriented as the fog obscured their vision.
Kael didn’t wait to see the effects. He vaulted over the side of the bridge, his gloved hands gripping a rope that ran parallel to the structure. He’d paid a hefty sum to have it placed there, but now he was thankful he’d had the foresight to do so. Sliding down, he landed on a lower platform and slipped into the festival crowd. The smell of roasted meat and spiced wine filled the air, mingling with the acrid tang of smoke from the fire-lit dragon effigies. Kael grabbed a festival mask from a nearby stall, slipping it over his face as he blended into the throng of revelers.
The guards were catching up, their torches cutting through the crowd as they searched for him. Kael kept his head down, moving with the flow of people until he reached a narrow alleyway. He ducked inside, the noise of the festival fading as he pressed himself against the wall.
For a moment, he allowed himself to relax. Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out the shard and held it up to the faint light filtering into the alley. The shard pulsed dimly, its light casting eerie shadows on the walls. Kael frowned. This was no ordinary relic. The energy it radiated was unlike anything he’d ever encountered, and the sense of awareness he’d felt earlier lingered, gnawing at the edges of his mind.
“What are you?” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
Before he could dwell on it further, a sound from the alley’s entrance made him freeze. Heavy boots scuffed against the cobblestones, and a shadow fell over him. Kael’s hand tightened around the shard as he prepared to run, but the figure that emerged wasn’t a guard.
The man’s face was hidden by a hood, but the insignia on his cloak—a silver dragon coiled around a burning flame—was unmistakable. A Drakesworn. Kael’s stomach sank. He could handle city guards, but a dragon rider was something else entirely. The figure stepped closer, his voice low and cold.
“You have no idea what you’ve stolen.”