[i]It’s warm.[/i]

That was the first thought that went through Crow’s mind when he touched the staff. He blinked in surprise, tracing his fingers along its smooth gold plating. With the storm outside sending chill winds into the castle, he had expected the metallic exterior of the staff to be cold. Instead, it seemed to radiate a warmth of its own that made his skin tingle pleasantly.

He slowly wrapped his hand around the middle of the staff and lifted it from where it leaned against the king’s bedpost, his heart still pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement as he picked it up to take a closer look. Part of him was elated that he hadn’t been struck down upon touching it, but another part of him was still worried that Aeklora just hadn’t chosen to kill him right away. He glanced towards the king, hoping to see a sign of surprise, astonishment, or anything else on the man’s face that would reassure him that he was different than the others. Unfortunately, the old man continued to read his book, taking no notice of the thief, still alive and breathing.

He frowned, opening his mouth to try to get the king’s attention, but froze as a new voice spoke up from behind him:

“Don’t bother. He won’t hear you.”

Crow flinched and spun around to see who else was in the room with him, only to find a woman standing near the doorway. He let out a startled yelp and stumbled backwards, tripping on the rug beneath his feet. As the initial shock of her appearance began to fade, he tried to remember when she had come into the king’s chambers. However, as much as he wracked his brain, he couldn’t remember hearing the door open.

[i]Wait a minute,[/i] he blinked confusedly as his eyes fell on the door. The rod he had shoved through the handles was still in place, meaning it couldn’t have been opened. Looking around the room, he could see no other exits. He paled, [i]But that’s impossible. I checked when I first came into this room, and there were no other people here.[/i] He turned slowly back to the mysterious woman, who was watching him with an unreadable expression.

Taking a moment to really look at her, he saw that she was unusually tall, with long black hair and a tan complexion. She wore shimmering red garments that flowed loosely around her lithe body, almost like water. Her face looked familiar to him somehow as well, although he couldn’t place where he might have seen her before.

“Who are you?” he eyed the woman warily, shifting his weight to run in case she proved to be hostile. “How did you get in here?”

“You know the answer already,” she replied with an air of disinterest.

“If I did, then why would I waste both of our time by asking you?” he retorted dryly.

“You know,” she said again. “You just don’t want to see the truth.”

“If I wanted to listen to pointless riddles all night, I would have kept talking to that old fool,” Crow gestured to the king, who was still sitting at his table. Despite his words, he was beginning to feel uneasy about what the woman was saying. Part of him even believed she was right. He almost felt like he knew her from somewhere, but there was something blocking him from remembering who she was.

He looked at the king again and frowned. The man was still engrossed in his book, paying no attention to the other people in his bed chambers. His apathy was starting to grate on the thief’s nerves. “Hey,” he growled, stepping over to him and snapping his fingers. “Old man, you’re still alive, right?” There was no response. He felt his unease growing steadily. “…Your Highness?” he reached out tentatively to put a hand on the king’s shoulder, and then gasped as he passed through like a ghost.

He retracted his hand quickly and spun around to face the woman, wide-eyed as he was finally able to see the second set of eyes on her face. “Y-you… you’re…” he stammered, unable to form the sentence. He looked down at his own body and then back up to her. “Am… am I dead?”

“Yes and no,” Aeklora’s stern expression was broken by a small smirk. “You are a spirit, that much is true, but you will return to your body.”

Crow stared at her, still in shock at her words. He couldn’t believe he was talking to an actual goddess. Sure, he had rambled at idols and statues before, but he never expected he would find himself face to face with the real deal. It reminded him of the legends he had been told as a child, tales of heroes who had communed with the gods and gained the power to save kingdoms. But he was no hero. What could a goddess possibly have to say to a lowly thief?

Gaining back some of his courage, he shifted his weight, “Can I go back now?”

Aeklora laughed. It was a musical sound that made him relax, despite knowing he had been turned into a spirit by a goddess. She gazed upon him with amusement, “Don’t worry. You’ll return soon enough. I merely wish to speak with you.”

“Why are you letting me live?” he asked suddenly, knowing he might have been testing the waters with her, but unable to help his curiosity. “I thought only a king could touch the staff, but I’m just a peasant from another kingdom.”

“What you say is true,” Aeklora said. “However, the rules have changed.” Her soft expression was replaced with one of anger and sadness. “My heart lies with the people of Younis, but their safety may soon be in peril.”

“Because of the war,” Crow nodded knowingly.

“A war unlike anything this kingdom has ever seen,” Aeklora met his gaze with fire in her eyes. “If it comes to pass, both Younis and Brerra will be destroyed, and they will only be the first of many.”

“The first?” Crow echoed confusedly, suddenly unsure about what she was talking about. [i]Isn’t the war just between Brerra and Younis? How would anyone else be affected?[/i]

“I’m afraid I cannot say more,” she shook her head sadly and then looked at him with a sternness that sent a thrill of nervousness down his spine. “Once the staff passes beyond the border of this kingdom, I will no longer have power over it. You must not let it fall into the hands of those who wish to abuse it. Make sure it is retrieved by the king of Brerra—do not let it out of your sight until it passes into his hands.”

“If it’s so important that the staff is safe, then why don’t you just leave it in the hands of the old man?” Crow objected. “He’s held onto it without a problem for years. Why hand it over to me when it’s been safe here for so long?”

“I would prefer to do as you say,” a melancholic smile softened the goddess’s features as she gazed upon the king. “However, his time is upon him. The crown of Younis will soon pass to his eldest son, and with a change in power always comes unbalance and strife. The staff will not be safe here during a period of such turmoil.”

“I see,” Crow frowned again, glancing at the king as well. “So I have to take it then.”

“It’s the only way,” Aeklora nodded. “Though I must warn you: There are those who do not want the staff to find its way into the Brerratic king’s hands. They will try to stop you on your journey back, but you mustn’t let them succeed. Alert your companions. All three of you must be on guard if you are to complete your task.”

[i]All three?[/i] Crow paled. Last time he counted, there had been four of them. [i]Oh gods. What did Penelope do?[/i] He staggered slightly, suddenly light headed.

“I see you are concerned for your companions’ safety,” the goddess observed. “I just have one more parting word of advice for you, and then you may return to your world—As long as you are within the walls of Younis, do not let anyone else touch the staff. I’ve made one exception, but it is still filled with my power. Anyone else who touches it before it passes into Brerra will die.”

Crow nodded wordlessly, feeling sick to his stomach.

“I’m glad I was able to meet you, Collin Lockton,” Aeklora smiled. “Now, go back to your companions.” With that, she disappeared, and the thief found himself standing by the king’s bedpost again, touching the edge of the warm gold plating of the staff. He blinked dazedly. [i]It was all a vision.[/i]

“Well, well,” the king spoke up with a bemused smirk. “It seems Aeklora has taken a liking to you after all, young thief.”

Crow picked up the staff, still disoriented from the vision, and looked at the old man, “How long was I standing there?”

“What on earth do you mean?” the king tilted his head. “You stared at the staff for a while and then picked it up just now.”

“Huh,” Crow murmured absently. Suddenly, his eyes widened as he remembered what the goddess had said about three companions. [i]Penelope![/i] He whirled around and raced towards the door without another word to the old man, who stared after him in bewilderment.

In the hallway, the guards were still standing outside of the king’s chambers. When Crow burst out, they all tensed, ready to stop him, and then balked when they saw the staff in his hand.

“Stand back!” Crow held it up, his eyes flitting between them as they stumbled away from the golden rod. “You all know what happens if you touch it.”

“H-how—?” one knight stammered, pressing his back against the wall. “You aren’t our king!”

“Oh yeah?” Crow smirked at him, twirling the staff in his hand. “Your goddess seems to think differently.”

“It has to be a trick!” another guard growled, although his eyes gaze away his unease. His words gave some comfort to the others though, and they began to close in on the thief. However, before anyone could lay a hand on him, all of the Aeklora statues dropped their golden orbs at once. The knights froze in their tracks.

“It’s Aeklora!” one of them squawked. “She really did let him take the staff.” The guards exchanged nervous glances and hesitantly began backing away from Crow, who was just as surprised as the rest of them.

“T-that’s right,” the thief said, recovering quickly. “So you all had better let me through, or I’ll have her smite every last guard in this palace!” To his relief, they did as he instructed, edging towards the walls so he had a clear path of escape.

[i]Thanks, Aeklora,[/i] he glanced upward and then took off at a sprint, passing by the guards on his way back to the stairs. He made his way out of the castle with no resistance—any time a patrol of knights saw the staff in his hands, they backed off—and bolted for the main gate. Fear gripped his heart as he ran for the distant tree line. [i]Penelope, please don’t be dead…[/i]