The mark on Kael's wrist pulsed once more, faintly warm beneath his skin. Then it faded, leaving nothing but a whisper in his veins. He stared at it for a moment longer before sighing. "Great. Magical tattoos. Just what I needed."

Graycross was waking up when he reached the lower streets. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the markets roared to life. The baker's boy shouted prices, a drunk sang off-key near the fountain, and a flock of pigeons took off as a wagon rolled through the mud. Kael blended in easily, his stolen cloak hiding the strange gleam in his eyes.

He headed toward the river district—the witch's directions echoing in his mind.

Seek the thief who stole from the gods.

That sounded like nonsense. Then again, so did being thrown twenty years into the past.

The river district hadn't changed much. Wooden bridges, half-collapsed houses, children darting through alleys with pickpockets' fingers. Kael remembered this place from his first life—mostly because he'd burned half of it down during a rebellion. Now it looked almost peaceful, though he knew better. The peace in Graycross was the kind that cracked easily.

He stopped at a tavern whose sign hung crookedly over the door: The Rusted Halo. The smell of ale and smoke drifted out, and the sound of laughter followed. Exactly the kind of place a divine thief might call home.

Kael pushed the door open.

Inside, the tavern buzzed with morning drinkers and men who'd never stopped from last night. A bard plucked a broken lute in the corner, badly out of tune. Kael ignored the stares as he made his way to the counter, dropping a few coins that weren't technically his.

"Looking for someone," he said to the barkeep, a heavy man with a missing ear.

"Congratulations," the barkeep grunted. "You and half the city."

Kael smirked. "This one's special. Calls himself Jorah. Tall, fast hands. Likes stealing things that don't belong to mortals."

The barkeep froze just long enough for Kael to notice. Then he looked away and started polishing a cup. "Never heard of him."

"Funny," Kael said. "You just twitched like someone who did."

A knife pressed against his side. Kael didn't turn—he could feel the cool metal and the steady hand behind it. "You've got a big mouth, stable boy," said a low voice at his ear. "Maybe I should close it for you."

Kael smiled. "Finally."

He moved like a flash—grabbing the attacker's wrist, twisting hard. The knife clattered to the floor as Kael spun, sweeping the man's legs out from under him. In one smooth motion, he had the blade back in hand, pressing it to the man's throat.

The thief grinned up at him through messy blond hair and one missing tooth. "You're not bad."

"Jorah, I presume," Kael said.

The thief winked. "Depends who's asking."

"Someone who might pay well."

"That's everyone I don't trust."

Kael smirked. "Then you'll love me."

---

They sat at a corner table minutes later, the tension replaced with cautious amusement. Jorah sipped from his mug, watching Kael like a cat sizing up a snake. "So. You're the kind of man who walks into a den of thieves and starts asking for me by name. Either brave or suicidal."

Kael shrugged. "Why choose?"

Jorah laughed—a bright, reckless sound that reminded Kael uncomfortably of himself. "I like you already. But stealing from the gods? That's not a rumor I admit to lightly."

Kael leaned forward. "You did it, though."

Jorah's grin faltered just enough to confirm it.

"I need something," Kael continued. "An artifact buried under the cathedral. Divine locks, lots of light, lots of doom. Sounds like your specialty."

Jorah leaned back, whistling low. "You're talking about the catacombs. You've got a death wish."

Kael's grin sharpened. "Death and I have a complicated relationship."

Jorah studied him for a long moment. "Alright. Let's say I believe you're not insane. What's in it for me?"

Kael tossed a small golden emblem onto the table. It glowed faintly—the mark the witch had burned into his wrist, now etched into metal. "A map," Kael said. "And maybe a favor from someone the gods hate."

Jorah stared at it, expression unreadable. Then he pocketed it smoothly. "Fine. But if we die down there, I'm haunting you."

Kael smirked. "You'd have to catch me first."

---

They left the tavern under gray skies. The streets sloped upward toward the cathedral, its white spire gleaming faintly against the dawn. Bells tolled, echoing through the mist.

Jorah adjusted his hood. "You know, the last guy who tried breaking into the catacombs ended up as soup for the clergy."

Kael chuckled. "I've been worse things."

"You don't even have a plan, do you?"

"Sure I do," Kael said. "Step one: improvise."

"Step two?"

"Laugh in the face of divine judgment."

Jorah groaned. "Oh gods. You really are insane."

"Then I'll fit right in."

---

They reached the cathedral gates just as morning prayers began. The guards were distracted, heads bowed. Kael slipped behind a statue, motioning for Jorah to follow. The thief moved like smoke—silent, effortless. Together they darted through the open archway and into the dark halls beyond.

Inside, candlelight flickered across stained glass windows. The air smelled of incense and stone. Kael's pulse quickened. He remembered this place covered in blood, burning beneath divine fire. Now it was almost holy again. Almost.

"Down there," he whispered, nodding toward a stairwell half-hidden behind a tapestry.

They descended into darkness.

The air grew colder, thicker. The walls changed from carved marble to rough stone. Faint sigils glowed along the steps, pulsing softly with divine energy.

Jorah cursed under his breath. "You weren't kidding about the locks."

Kael touched one symbol. The rune flared—and the mark on his wrist burned in response.

The door at the bottom shuddered. Stone groaned, ancient mechanisms grinding open.

Jorah stepped back. "What did you just do?"

Kael grinned, the light of the runes flickering in his eyes. "Looks like the gods still remember me."

Beyond the door, cold air swept out like a whisper from time itself.

And somewhere deep below, something answered.

---

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