It was a cool and pleasant night in Harth, the moon high in the sky and sparsely covered by wispy clouds. On that night, a guard sat at his station on the front desk of the Post-War Museum trying his best not to fall asleep. All he could do to pass the time was watch the moon through the glass windows and wait for it to meander across. A little longer, he thought, just a little longer and his shift would be over. Then, the morning guard will come to take his suffering away, getting the museum ready for opening. Only two hours more to wait. His eyes half-closed, he didn't even notice when a small black shadow passed across the pane, blocking the moonlight. It must've been a cloud, passing in front, or a floater in his eye showing up at the wrong moment. For it was that, a wrong moment. Only, he wouldn't realise it for some time. Amy hoped he never would.

She watched him perched on the roof of another building, Cloaked in abyssal murk, her enhanced eyesight letting her see him clearly and read his exhausted expressions completely. Leading up to the heist, she had studied even more with William and Felin, working to improve her mental enhancements bit by bit, slowly working up to the first milestone. And on the eve of the heist, almost a week after she had met with Beatrice and her gang, she had done it. A complete mental enhancement. All parts of her brain had undergone at least one round of improvement and the effects were spectacular. Amy felt practically electric as she waited for Beatrice to give confirmation, itching to finally carry out the plan.

Hearing her footsteps well in advance, Amy turned around to see Beatrice, cloaked in more mundane shadow than she was, quietly approaching. When the thief could finally see Amy, she gave her a firm nod. It was time.

As Beatrice had explained to her in their later meeting with Brook, usually their gang played distinct roles when planning something big like this. Harris worked on the logistics of their operations making sure everything was possible in the first place. Mina was the face, usually taking watch and guarding them if things go wrong. Tod, surprisingly, was the one most likely to have boots on the ground, doing the dirty work. Brook was all about transport, getting them inside and getting both the goods and their lives out too. Beatrice, finally, was the brains, planning everything in advance, and sometimes working alongside Tod too. While only her and Brook were with Amy today, they still played their most familiar roles. And the rest? Amy could handle it just fine.

With a silent hiss, a hook launched across the gap in the rooftops from a launcher Brook had set up pre-emptively. As soon as he had finished placing it down, he had scrambled away, preparing for his part in the latter half of the heist. Beatrice acted quickly after that, retrieving something from her large duffel bag of equipment, one prepared specifically for this: a standing mirror. Rather than relying on teaching the inexperienced Amy how to rappel across the rope, the Mage had a better idea, using one of her capabilities that she was going to have to expose anyway. She was already weaving the Mirror Walk together before Beatrice had finished fastening the mirror to her back. Amy walked somewhat cautiously to the mirror as her mana filled the Spellform in front of her, a twisting shape resembling that of a gateway into some horrifying realm of unknown reality. They had tested that this had worked beforehand, but the idea of putting her complete trust into Beatrice for this was daunting. Whilst she remained inside the mirror, her view of the outside world would be limited, and if Beatrice got caught? There'd be no escape for Amy either.

Still, she put on a brave face and, in a flash of shimmering silver, stepped on through. The Mirror World here was dark, Amy barely able to see even a meter in front of her. All that remained was the deep Unknowable abyss, its strange inhabitants clawing at their shadowy cages, begging to be unleashed. In and out, Amy, she repeated to herself, slow breaths in and out. Unfortunately, things only got worse from there. Unable to see much of the outside world shrouded in night, random spurts and flashes of moonlight streaked over the Mirror World like spotlights flying over a stage only disorientated her more. And despite their illumination, the shadows lurked.

Amy was stuck there for gods knows how long, repeating her mantra, breathing deliberately in and out, when a cool even light lit up the Mirror World and the scenery changed. No longer were she in a dark empty void, no ground to stand upon, leaving her to float. Now she was in a small room at the top of the cathedral spire; a storage space, filled with crates of archived goods and orders. Finally.

She eagerly awaited for everything to stop moving like a swaying ship, when the mirror was set down so that she could step out at last and rid herself of this strange case of motion-sickness. Sighing deeply with relief, Amy ended the Mirror Walk and entered the room proper.

"That was a lot worse than we practiced," Amy heaved, repressing the urge to hurl.

"Sorry. The rope was a bit rough in places, so I was caught swaying a lot," Beatrice tried to smile apologetically.

"At least we're in..."

"At least we're in."

Looking from the window they had entered through, a circular hole cut into it, to the spiral staircase on the opposite end, Amy said, "Are we ready then?"

"After we get down there, it's all on you from here on out."

"I know. Let's just get it over with."

Not looking back, Amy marched on down the staircase, not even bothering to be quiet, the Magick of her Cloak doing the job for her. Beatrice followed carefully behind, slower, but only because she lacked the same Cloak the Witch had. It wasn't long until they were in the storage rooms proper that lay above the main museum exhibits. They couldn't stay here long however, as the other night guard would pass through this area soon. Taking the pre-planned exit not too far from the spire staircase, they headed down through a staff-only passage, tight and something left-over from its days as a cathedral; nothing like the new extension sections. Only one last door separated them from what might be the most stressful series of events that Amy would have to pull off in her entire life. Thankful for the fact she'd have to wait for Beatrice to catch up, she spent that precious panicked minute staring intently at the wooden door in front of her, tapping her foot. It almost makes me wish I used Coin Flip before this but... the less I rely on luck here the better. Just imagine if I got a bad result and it all goes awry because of that.

Taking one last shaky breath in and out, just as Beatrice caught up, Amy spoke. "I'm starting."

Amy opened the door.

* * *

Daren was tired of this job. Day in and day out he was forced to watch over the magical section of this stupid museum, always on the night-shift, just because he was new and got the harder jobs pushed onto him. Ever since he had graduated from Schooling, he was always having jobs pushed onto him by his parents. First it was that guard job and now this. Another boring one. It was good pay, they said; the manager's a family friend so she'll treat you well, they said. The manager might not be the problem, but his co-workers were. Especially that piece of shit that came every month to service the Spell Arrays. He was always so condescending, one of those richies that got into a good School since he's from a Mage family. Already Journeyman at such a young age, they say, when his Spells are all things he borrowed from his family's Grimoires. He spends all his time here talking about himself, barely focusing on the Arrays, about how it wouldn't be long until he broke into Tier 7 and would be the youngest in his family to have ever done it. It got Daren angry just thinking about it.

Wiping some sleep from his eyes, he leant back in the chair at his stall, having only woken up recently from a nap. The other guard had enough of an understanding to let him get away with things like that. And who would want to rob a museum anyways? All that's in here are useless magical relics or fragments of them. If they had any value they would be in some Archmage's study somewhere gathering dust, not on display. Blinking some more tiredness away, Daren could've sworn he saw something for a moment. A reflection in one the display cases, a shadow swiftly sneaking across the glass like a darting arrow. Probably a mouse, he thought to himself. A reasonable thought, one might say, if he didn't realise that they couldn't possibly have rats in a place locked up as securely as this. That latter thought didn't even cross his mind however, a lapse in his concentration letting it slip away.

It happened again barely a minute later, when Daren mistook a patch of shadow dancing in the colourful light from the stained glass as something else. Couldn't possibly be anything worth investigating. He was just more tired than he thought he was, his nap still slowing him down. In times like this, the Apprentice thought it nice to gaze at the Mana Ocean and watch its mesmerising sights. His skill in Sight was what got him a top grade in a few of his exams back at School, a talent all of his teacher's praised. Just like he'd done after graduating, when he pushed through into Tier 3 and became an Apprentice, he'd soon get into Tier 4 and become an Apprentice in truth. He just needed to find one small Spell in his FPG, something that he'd be able to combine into his current Tier 3 Spell and elevate it to Tier 4. Daren just needed to search a bit more. If only he'd look closer and find it.

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Alas, Daren did not. He merely gazed upwards, watching the dancing Ocean filled with myriad currents, excited by all the different flavours of mana in the display cases around him. Like a darkness encroaching upon him from all around, Daren felt a sudden tiredness seep in once more. One more nap, a temptation whispered into his ear. His subconscious screamed at him not to, but his brain was too sleepy to notice. All he wanted was to listen to that one, enchanting Command to-

"Sleep"

And so, Daren slept.

Amy grinned as she stood in front of the snoring guard. It was a bit of a gamble, going for the Command, but influencing a Mageling was easy enough. Combining that with his already encroaching tiredness, it was simple to lull him into a slumber. Amy even added a tinge of Mind to her Command, spinning the Spell more into a working to influence him better. Failing that, she was going to be forced to use a Barrier of Ignorance on him, just as she had done for every over sensor she detected in the room, but luckily it hadn't come to that. It's a bit strange that a Mageling was put on duty though. You'd expect an Apprentice honestly. Unless... he was an 'Apprentice', only one by Spell Tier, not Mage Tier. I wonder how a culture of Spell Tier favouritism became so popular in the Empire, over one prioritising Mage Tier. It must be a consequence of the Mage Wars somehow. Perhaps, as the war progressed, a focus on group power was preferred over personal power? Thus the individual power of a Mage, their Mage Tier, was favoured less than what they could actually provide for the war effort, the power of their Spells, their Spell Tier? This sort of attitude was likely proliferated by the Empire too to encourage a higher than average Spell Tier for each Mage Tier of their magical populace. I suppose it's just a consequence that's stuck around, the older Mages not bothering to change it all too much as one hundred years doesn't matter all that much in their eyes. Either way, I should probably just get on with things.

Leaving the thought hole she had dug for herself in less than five seconds, Amy turned and leaned around a corner, giving a waiting Beatrice by the door a thumbs up. A pep in her step, Beatrice practically galloped up to her, a wide grin splitting her face in two.

Leaning in close, she quietly asked, "With him dealt with, fine if I get started?"

"Go ahead. The mundane section is unguarded, yes?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Then we'll meet again at the time."

"Good luck."

"To you as well."

Before Amy knew it, Beatrice was gone, skipping to the other, newer section of the museum, where her real treasures were. The Witch, on the other hand, was measured as she strode up to a specific display case on the opposite side of the exhibit. Inside, was her target. An old, fraying robe embroidered with stars. If Amy hadn't been so unsure about the auto-magic detectors being set off if she casted Familiar, she would've had Felin by her side at this moment, guiding her through it. But this, she had to do alone. Reaching out to the case with her mana senses, Amy investigated the display case carefully, finding the tell-tale signs of magical Locks and Alarms, at a far higher Tier than she was used to dealing with. Even for a minor item like this the security measures weren't any different to the shard of the Slab of Erudition just down the way. I suppose, ultimately, they're all the same level of uselessness so why would they warrant varying levels of security?

Amy had planned for this moment, studying the best she could the locks they referenced in the blueprints, and - while trying not to arouse too much suspicion - look up books on them in the Mage association building. Even with all that preparation, she could never craft a Spell to unlock it in advance. She would have to be there in person to even think of beginning to crack it. All throughout the journey to this moment she had been fretting about how to unlock the display case without triggering the Alarm systems, even considering requesting access for a restricted Spell on the FPG by the association, Knock. Yet, now she was here, she had a different opinion.

Wizards spoke of their trio of Elements all as manners of fooling reality, tricking it to do their whims. Illusion was used to trick people; Unknowable to trick mana itself; and Fae to trick the world. Up until this moment, she had been rigid in her belief of those axioms, not doubting them for a second. So why was she doubting them now? Why, despite everything she knew, that Unknowable would be more useful for this task, to make the Alarm and Lock look past her interferences, it was Fae that was screaming out to her? Amy would be tricking mana here, not reality, so Unknowable would be more useful - right?

No. That fact of denial sung in her spirit, crying out against Unknowable. Her being, for some odd reason, demanded at this moment to use Fae. Every mote of mana in her pool, supposedly 'Pure' and attuned to her being, glimmered with violent viridescence, fighting to be worked.

The Witch gave in to her ultimate affinity and - for the first time - spun magic from her soul.

A snake of radioactive verdant green shot out from her outstretched arm, slithering into the magical shape of the Lock. It creeped through its nooks and crannies, pushing and clicking metaphorical pins inside of its structure, weaving around the many triggers for the Alarms. With a hiss, the Lock was undone, as the snake emerged triumphantly from the cloud of dissipating fractals of its own mana, tricked into dispelling itself. The Alarms dared not sound as the snake crawled into the case, slipping through the cracks, and opened the case from the inside, the front pane creaking slowly open. Then, with one last proud hiss of its flickering tongue, the snake returned, becoming mana once more and joining the rest of Amy's mana pool.

Amy took a hesitant step forward, speechless, and tentatively reached a hand forward. Without triggering a single Alarm, their glyphs on the various arrays covering the case tinged green, Amy grasped the robe and pulled. It came off of its hooks laughably easily and, as if there was nothing before stopping her at all, was now in front of her. Its Unknowable enchantments licked at the fresh Mana Ocean around it, free from its sterile cage. It found solace in the dark embrace of her own Cloak, its magical aura practically clinging to and wrapping around her still clenched in her hands. Acquiescing to the robe's demands, careful not to damage it any further, Amy put on the robe, letting it sit comfortably under her Cloak's mantle. Shockingly, Amy felt the drain from her mana pool lessen as the robe's very inscriptions seemed to turn and help support the Cloak, it becoming somehow more solid and anchored than ever before. If she felt like it, Amy could wear the Cloak until midday if she wanted, the mana drain reduced that much.

"Spectacular," Amy marvelled, breathless, her eyes wide as she studied the new ebbs and flows in the Ocean around her Spell.

"Amy!" Beatrice whisper-shouted from the side, grabbing at her. Turning to her with a jump, Amy could barely contain her surprise.

"What?"

"I was waiting for you for a while and you still hadn't come. Brook's already began carrying the loot across. What are you doing!"

"What do you mean? The meeting's still a while away!"

"I don't know how long you've been day-dreaming for, but it's been almost two hours since we split. We have to hurry!"

"Two hours?" Amy gasped, a chill running up her spine. Just how long did she spend casting that working?

"Yes! Come on!" She said again, growing frustrated. "It won't be long until the last patrol, and we can't afford to be caught out."

"O-okay- I'm ready. I'll come now," She frowned, still trying to think how she could've wasted so much time.

"Quick!"

Rushing back from whence they came, but not before closing the display case behind her, Amy gave a quick glance back to the still-asleep guard and the stained glass windows above. Beatrice was right; the moonlight was growing dim, and although it was hard to make out through the colours, Amy swore she could see dawn creeping up on the night sky. She swiftly made her way back through the maze of the storage rooms and up to the spire, with as much haste as she could afford without doing away with all covertness. Just as Beatrice had said, Brook was there, attaching bags of their goods to the zipline and sending it across to the opposite roof. It seemed that they had gotten a good haul.

"What was the hold up?" He grimaced as he hauled a particularly heavy bag over to the hook, attaching it and letting it fly. With the way the hook was set up, while Beatrice had to work her way up to the spire on their way there, fighting against the incline, it was now easy for the bags to get transported back down safely, piling up on the other side.

"Doesn't matter, let's just be out of here," Beatrice spoke quickly, nodding her head to the mirror, still standing up against the wall.

Not wanting to anger Beatrice any more - or get caught - Amy followed the orders, fighting the rough memories of last time's trek and Mirror Walking into it. Amy was still in the dark somewhat, barely able to make out Brook heading out before them, rappelling down to sort out the bags. Submerged in that darkness, Amy could pay no attention to anything but the shadows and her new robe, watching the two interact. Those shadows - fortunately not quite manifestations just yet - seemed to reach out to her robe, and the robe's aura of Unknowable seemed to respond in turn, forming what might be the worst 'hand-shake' Amy had ever been borne witness to. Luckily for her, it wasn't long until she was on the move, reattached to Beatrice's back and sailing smoothly down the rope.

In spite of her current horrifying circumstances, Amy stared dreamily at the encroaching dawn through the mirror hole, grabbing firmly at the robe she wore. She had done it. They had actually pulled it off. Smiling wide, Amy couldn't help but wonder how Felin would react.

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