The Royal Thief Unbound

     “Welcome all, to the Neopian Leaders Summit,” Kyruggi addressed the crowd. “Tyrannia is proud to host our esteemed guests this year, and we hope that we can offer the utmost hospitality. We hope our prehistoric land can set the appropriate contrast backdrop for progressive discussions and innovative decisions that set a course for a better future for Neopia. That being said, as the Grand Elder, I am honoured to present a new representative for Tyrannia at this conference.”

     Kyruggi gestured to Thalse, who Veifira and Vatalyn knew as the mentalist thief. He was often dressed down and quite dishevelled, but the version of him on the stage looked respectable and put together. Thalse was wearing a traditional Tyrannian, floor-length fur-trimmed robe and a fashioned bone necklace over a three-piece suit.

     Kyruggi continued. “May I introduce Thalse, a talented consultant and well-respected advisor.”

     Veifira’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Talented consultant and well-respected advisor? Since when? She looked at Vatalyn to see if he knew any more than she did, but his facial expression was completely neutral. If he knew anything, it didn’t show on his face. Veifira followed his cue and tried to stay emotionless as well.

     Thalse took the stage, his long robe trailing behind him regally, almost pompously. “Thank you for that introduction, Kyruggi,” he started. His voice, usually so bored and monotone, was deep and soothing. “I am sure most if not all of you gathered here are confused as to why I’m here as opposed to another one of the Tyrannian elders…” His eyes scanned the room and, as if by predisposition, locked onto Veifira’s, even though she was further back in the crowd. “And it’s to further symbolize the message of progression and moving away from tradition. Throughout the conference, we hope to solidify that idea, that ideal, through discussion, compromise, and decision. I am looking forward to developing relations with everyone.”

     Veifira resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Thalse rarely prevaricates but hearing him so politically correct was strangely irritating. Maybe because he could play the politics game better than Veifira could. Thalse nodded his head at the crowd and smiled broadly before stepping back. Veifira had never seen him smile before; it was unnerving. Kyruggi clapped, signalling everyone else to do so as well, and continued her address.

     When it was over, before leaving the stage, Thalse gave the slightest glance towards one of the back exits. It was a subtle sign to Veifira and Vatalyn, they both knew immediately, that if they were to get any answers, they should meet him there. With a silent nod to Vatalyn, Veifira split over to the refreshment table. It was better if they weren’t seen together by too many people. As he had said before, the Lost Desert and Krawk Island really didn’t have any reason for relation. Plus, she was hungry.

     There was a long table piled with hors d’oeuvres from every Neopian land. Veifira served herself some cheese-stuffed olives from Altador, Faerieland’s Starberry faerie bubble, and some fresh oysters catered from Maraqua’s Kelp restaurant. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gone there. And, even though she was from the Lost Desert herself, she couldn’t help but reach for some Qasalan delicacies; she piled some spicy Queela dip and crisp on her plate as well. After all, she had been travelling for a while and didn’t get a chance to have any Qasalan street food the short while she was home.

     “Is it wise to be filling up on hors d’oeuvres before dinner?” someone next to her asked.

     Veifira turned her head. It was Orithian, a Tyrannian Peophin and the prince of Roo Island. Veifira recognized him from the notecards on the train. He was just as handsome as the small portrait on the notecard, if not more. He was wearing a deep navy cloak over a royal purple suit and had flowing burgundy hair.

     “You know that dinner isn’t going to be nearly enough food,” Veifira replied. “We’ve all travelled quite a way here and our plates are going to look like a sprig of leaf dipped in edible gold.”

     Orithian chuckled. “You know what they say. Quality over quantity.”

     Veifira shrugged, popping a Neovian lemon tart into her mouth. The flaky crust melted on her tongue immediately, followed by the zest of the lemon. “When it comes to food, I think I’d prefer quantity.” She swallowed noisily. “Roo Island’s Prince Orithian, am I right?”

     If Orithian was bothered by her mannerisms, it didn’t show. He nodded. “And you must be Princess Veifira, of the Lost Desert. It is an honour to meet you. I have met your sister Princess Astael on many occasions, but you don’t seem to be part of the desert’s active governing body. What brings you here today?”

     “The food, of course,” Veifira responded easily. She didn’t intend to share any more information than necessary. Plus, she was sure she only had a few more moments left to spare before she had to meet up with Thalse and Vatalyn. “If you’ll excuse me.” She bowed, taking a step back. “I see someone I need to speak to.”

     “Of course,” Orithian replied. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you throughout the conference.”

     Veifira smiled politely before turning to leave. She wove through the crowd casually, making sure her movements couldn’t be traced by anyone watching her. She polished off the rest of her plate, leaving it in a trash bin before making one last weave through the crowd and then leaving through the back exit Thalse had indicated earlier.

     The whispering would have been indiscernible to anyone else, but Veifira, with her training, could just locate that it was coming from above. She still didn’t have the skill to make out what they were saying, but it was certainly Thalse and Vatalyn talking. She ascended the spiral stairs one flight and spotted them.

     “How nice of you to join us, princess,” Vatalyn said, without even turning to look at her. He already knew who it was by her footsteps.

     “You’re late,” was all that Thalse said.

     Veifira scoffed. “I was covering my tracks.”

     “Still, shouldn’t take that long,” Thalse replied.

     He was his usual dismissive self, familiar except for the regal outfit he was wearing. It was even more extravagant close-up – the details were impeccable; it was obviously custom-made. The Tyrannian elders had gone all out for his attire. Veifira had to wonder how any situation could lead to Thalse being treated like diplomatic royalty.

     “You want answers,” Thalse stated simply. “You can’t possibly imagine any scenario where I end up in this position.”

     “Well, yeah,” Veifira answered lamely. “Doesn’t take a mind-reader to figure that one out.”

     Thalse ignored her sarcasm. “They hired me for security.”

     “You? Security?” Veifira wanted to laugh. In any other circumstance, it would be Thalse who anyone would need to hire security as protection from, not the other way around.

     Thalse shook his head. “I don’t owe you an explanation. And I have work to do. I’ll see you two back inside.” He turned to leave down the long hallway, presumably, there was another set of stairs that way.

     Veifira whipped around to talk to Vatalyn after a long moment, when she was mostly sure Thalse was out of earshot. “Can you believe this?”

     Vatalyn looked amused. “What part of this don’t you believe?”

     “Well, first of all, I think Thalse is hilariously unfit to guard anything, especially anything of importance.”

     “You don’t know what it is,” Vatalyn replied simply.

     “I know that my sister is here, and I don’t know if I would trust him protecting a place like this,” Veifira said, waving her arms around to emphasize her point.

     Vatalyn nodded. “I understand where you’re coming from,” he said calmly. “But you do realize that you don’t know him at all, right?”

     Veifira sighed. She knew she was being unnecessarily negative and, frankly, overdramatic. She took a deep breath to level herself. “Okay,” she started. “What do you know about… this?”

     “Just about as much as you know.”

     “Then how do you know this is a good idea?” Veifira asked.

     “I trust his judgment. I trust his judgment almost as much as I trust my own, if I’m being honest.”

     Veifira nodded slowly. That was extremely high praise, coming from Vatalyn. “Does Thalse usually take jobs like these?”

     “No, it’s the first since I’ve known him,” Vatalyn replied. “And I know he has never been compensated in NeoPoints, nor does he have any interest in material objects, so it makes me wonder what the Tyrannian government is paying him for this.”

     Veifira had known that Thalse wasn’t a traditional mercenary thief. The more she learned about the situation, the more questions she had.

     “What kind of person is Thalse?” she asked, watching Vatalyn’s face carefully for his answer.

     Vatalyn seemed ready for that question, as if he knew Veifira was looking for a chance to ask that for a while now. “Thalse… Thalse is a thief with the skill to obtain anything and the ability to want for nothing. He is the perfect thief. He has no hubris, pride, or desire. He has no weakness. If an event of this importance and magnitude needed security, I would find him the perfect candidate. He doesn’t break for anything.”

     More high praise, Veifira thought, taken aback. Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. “I… I need to go back inside,” Veifira said, before stepping backwards and rushing back into the reception area. The guests were getting ready to move into the dining hall for dinner. Trying not to look flustered and draw attention to herself, Veifira scanned the crowd until she found him. She stormed up to Thalse, who was surrounded by representatives, and before he could say anything, she said:

     “Let me help you.”

To be continued…