“This work allows us to appreciate what the world was like two thousand years ago, when humans were blessed by the gods,” the historian said, gesturing towards a series of intricate paintings and sculptures displayed on the wall. As she spoke, her voice was rich and resonant, filled with passion. She pointed to an old painting depicting Lunaris, her silver hair cascading like moonlight, surrounded by celestial bodies that shimmered with life. “Notice how the artists of that era captured her essence… every brushstroke reflected the reverence they held for her.”

  She moved gracefully to a sculpture of the alchemical circle, its surface engraved with ancient symbols that gleamed faintly in the light. “And here we have a replica of the circle itself, painstakingly crafted to preserve the knowledge of our ancestors. Each symbol tells a story, a connection to the divine that we can still feel today.”

  The audience listened silently, captivated by her as she continued, “In Atlas, we are not just observing history; but how we are part of a legacy that echoes through the ages.”

  Alex stood silently, among the gilded frames and polished marble, her gaze fixed on the parchment drawing of the goddess Lunaris as the historian continued walking through the hall. Her dark attire, consisting of practical form-fitting trousers and a fitted black jacket with a hood that covered her head, blended seamlessly into the shadows of the ornate gallery, allowing her to go unnoticed among the affluent people bustling about the place.

  It was a unique and rare exhibition, sponsored by the neighboring city of Atlas, where it was said that Lunaris once lived. Ironforge, an industrial city with a practical mindset that lacked the religious fervor of the Atlans, yet they held a keen interest in them, drawn to Atlas’s wealth and exclusivity, a city notoriously difficult for foreigners to enter.

  Beneath the glimmer of polished chandeliers, laughter and conversation mingled with the faint scent of aged paper and oil paint.

  With her raven-black hair concealed beneath a vibrant red curly wig, Alex’s sharp green eyes scanned the room with a predator’s focus. Tonight was not about appreciating art; it was about stealing it. A fortune awaited them if they succeeded, and Alex had no intention of letting her client down.

  “It’s incredible that there are fools who actually believe in this nonsense,” murmured a man beside her, dressed like one of Ironforge’s elite, adjusting his glasses as he feigned interest in a nearby sculpture. He shot Alex a quick, knowing smile.

  His name was Rizz, her partner in crime responsible for creating the diversions essential to make their scheme succeed.

  “This nonsense is going to make us rich.”

  “And they don’t even know it.”

  “Let’s keep it that way,” Alex replied tersely, her heart racing as she focused on the prize. The drawing, in an antique gold frame, depicted the goddess with ethereal grace. The lines were sharp and fluid; this masterful rendition, having endured centuries, was now reduced to a mere object to be traded for gold.

  "Well, it's your time to shine, Alex…" Rizz murmured, his voice barely a whisper as he slipped away, distracting the unsuspecting guests and guards, shielding her from prying eyes.

  Alex moved a step closer, her pulse thrumming with adrenaline. The drawing, so delicately crafted, was captivating and beautiful, but it stirred no sentiment in her, only the promise of a reward. Her fingers traced the frame’s edge, the chill of the metal cool against her fingertips.

  Nearby, a small burst of laughter erupted from a group of guests, momentarily drawing the guards' attention. Taking advantage of the distraction, Alex slipped a lockpick from its hidden pocket, her fingers moving deftly to unfasten the latch of the frame. It opened with a soft click. With a swift, practiced hand, she removed the original drawing, folding it carefully to fit inside the inner pocket of her jacket. In its place, she slipped in a near-perfect replica she had brought, ensuring it was properly secured in the frame.

  A nearby guard, who had been stifling yawns and barely paying attention to the bustling event, suddenly noticed that the painting was missing from the display. His boredom quickly transformed into alertness as he hurried over and called out to Alex.

  “Excuse me, miss, you’re not allowed to take items from the exhibit.”

  Alex turned, putting on a polite, slightly embarrassed smile as she held up the frame she had deliberately picked up from another part of the hall. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” she said with a hint of apology in her tone. “I didn’t realize I couldn’t touch the items.” She carefully replaced the piece, taking a moment to adjust it as if ensuring it was perfectly aligned.

  The guard nodded, visibly relieved but still wary, as she stepped back. Alex took the opportunity to smoothly melt back into the crowd, her heart racing as she felt the secure weight of the original tucked within her jacket. The laughter and chatter around her resumed, allowing her to slip away undetected, the stolen artifact now hers.

  ____

  The dimly lit bar thrummed with life, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Alex raised her mug, the frothy amber liquid sloshing over the rim, and clinked it against Rizz's. They stood at the bar, nestled in their favorite corner of the Red District, infamous in Ironforge for its brothels, alcohol, and contraband.

  "To us!" Rizz declared, his voice a melodic blend of bravado and mirth. Tall and slender, he had a wild mane of hair that fell just to the edge of his jaw, framing his angular face. His loose white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, offered a glimpse of his chest, while silver earrings glinted in the low light like stars in a night sky.

  “To us,” Alex echoed, lifting her beer to her lips for a long swig, frothy liquid spilling slightly over her chin.

  She had earned it.

  She deserved this night of freedom and carefree revelry, and she intended to savor every moment until the alcohol spun her head and her pockets ran dry.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “By the end of the week, we’ll have enough gold to waste for months!” he continued, his enthusiasm infectious as he gestured grandly, the mug nearly tipping over in his exuberance.

  Alex, with her raven-black hair pulled back in a high braid that accentuated the shaved sides of her head, smiled softly at his antics.

  “Cheers to that….” She took another sip of her drink, letting the taste wash over her, grounding her in the present. The chaos of the bar around them faded momentarily as she savored the victory of that night. “Just try not to draw too much attention,” Alex murmured, leaning in close and scanning the bar for prying eyes. “It won’t be long before they realize it’s a replica.”

  “They’ll go wild when that happens. God, I’d pay to see it…” Rizz laughed, slapping the bar top with a little too much enthusiasm, causing a few nearby patrons to glance over.

  Alex shook her head, that thought wasn't exactly pleasant to entertain.

  “I can’t blame them… Their goddess means everything to them.”

  “It’s all nonsense, that’s what it is…” Rizz replied, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

  Alex fell silent for a moment, her gaze drifting as she contemplated his words. She knew Rizz was right; it was foolish to expect an imaginary being to fix their lives. Yet, deep down, she couldn’t help but think that if such a force did exist, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.

  “I don’t know… Sometimes I wish I could believe in it.” Alex fiddled with the rim of her glass, her fingers tracing the condensation, lost in thought.

  “In gods? Are you kidding?” Rizz chuckled, his laughter echoing in the lively bar.

  Alex shrugged, a slight smile playing on her lips. “In magic… I guess life would be easier with it, wouldn’t it?”

  “Nah, maybe for the high and mighty, but for folks like us? It’d be the same crap…” He waved his hand dismissively, nearly spilling his drink.

  With a sigh, Alex pulled the drawing of the goddess Lunaris from her pocket, her sharp green eyes studying the delicate lines capturing the figure’s ethereal beauty.

  Perhaps it was her grandmother’s influence. The stubborn woman who, throughout Alex's childhood, had woven tales of a time when the gods watched over humanity. She had often insisted that if Alex were a good girl, they would protect her too, even if she couldn't see them.

  The thought soured in her mind; despite always adhering to those words, the so-called gods had still allowed her beloved grandmother to end up in the hospital.

  “Yeah… you’re right,” she murmured after a moment of silence, her voice barely above the din, folding the drawing back up and tucking it away in her jacket. Believing in that nonsense would only make her life feel more miserable, and she wasn’t about to let that happen. “I’ll go for another round.”

  “Sure, keep them coming.”

  Alex approached the bar, the empty beer mugs clinking together in her hands as she set them down with a satisfied thud. With a sharp whistle, she caught the bartender's attention, gesturing for a refill while leaning casually against the counter.

  In that moment, she felt a familiar pair of fingers tracing a light path along her back, sending a subtle shiver through her. A discreet smile tugged at her lips as she recognized that unmistakable scent lingering in the air.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” a sultry voice whispered over Alex’s shoulder, sweet and seductive just as she remembered. “What are you celebrating?”

  Alex turned around, resting her elbows on the weathered wooden surface of the bar. Her smile widened as she met Ranea’s gaze; her ex-girlfriend and the infuriating head of Ironforge’s civic security. Ranea stood tall, her athletic frame radiating the confidence that Alex had once liked. The way her sleek black hair framed her face, highlighting those dark, captivating eyes that always seemed to see right through Alex.

  “What makes you think I’m celebrating anything?” Alex countered, raising an eyebrow playfully.

  “Oh, come on, Alexandria. You never haunt places like this unless there’s something worth celebrating. What mischief have you been up to? Did you save a kitten? Found a lost child? Or maybe you robbed some landowner’s vault up there?” Ranea leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a subtle whisper, the warmth of her breath teasing Alex’s skin.

  Alex felt her heart race slightly as she met Ranea's alluring gaze, their playful banter laced with an undeniable tension.

  “Maybe I did a little of all three,” Alex replied, a mischievous glint in her sharp green eyes, her tone challenging as she bit her lower lip. “Gotta keep the business running, right?”

  Ranea’s lips curled into a smirk, her dark eyes glinting with interest.

  “Right… Just try to stay out of trouble, darling.” With a casual grace, Ranea tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her dark, alluring eyes lingering on Alex. She leaned in, closing the distance until her breath brushed warm against Alex’s ear, her voice velvet-soft. “I’d hate to have to arrest you.”

  Alex tilted her head, exposing her fair, inked neck and granting Ranea free rein to do as she pleased. Their relationship was complicated —too complicated— and they’d never work together. But that didn’t stop Alex from savoring those rare rendezvous. Much like the thrill of a high-stakes game, Alex found herself drawn to those encounters, fully aware of the risks yet unable to resist the fun they provided.

  “I wonder why I can't believe you.”

  “Because you know me too well.”

  “Oh, come on!” a familiar voice groaned, breaking the moment. Alex let her head fall back, eyes squeezing shut. Rizz stood in front of them, looking entirely exasperated. “I leave you alone for one minute, and you’re already getting into your ex’s pants?”

  “Don’t blame her, pretty boy. That was all me,” Ranea assured him, stepping back from Alex with a sly smile. “But don’t worry, she’s all yours…” She turned to Alex, her voice low and smooth. “I’ll be right over there for a while; in case you decide you want to have a little fun tonight.”

  With a nod, Ranea gestured toward a table where two stunning women sipped drinks from delicate glasses, their eyes immediately landing on Alex. They waved at her with playful smiles, giggling and openly flirting as they batted their lashes in her direction.

  Rizz shook his head with determination, curls bouncing as he tugged Alex’s arm. “No chance. No fucking way. I’m not letting you drag her into one of your shady escapades. I’m always the one left dealing with the shitty fallout.”

  Alex’s lips twitched with amusement despite her relaxed stance. “Well… You heard him. Not tonight.”

  “A shame… we could’ve had quite the time.” Ranea shot Alex a final smile before slipping away, a lingering look over her shoulder as she made her way back through the crowd.

  Rizz watched her go, raising his brows in disbelief. “I still don’t get how someone like her works for the civil police. She’s… insane.”

  She was indeed.

  What could she say? Alex always had a soft spot for the crazy ones.

  “Come on, let’s get back to our table.” Alex patted his arm, grabbing the two freshly filled mugs. “I’m still way too sober to keep up with you.”

  “With me?! I’m nothing but the best friend you could ever ask for.”

  “That’s what I said…”

  Once settled at their table, the hours blurred into a haze of laughter, toasts, and slightly reckless decisions. With each round of drinks, Alex felt the weight of the world lift just a bit more, replaced by a comforting buzz that dulled her nagging worries. She and Rizz traded stories, shared jokes that only got funnier with the alcohol, and reveled in the camaraderie that filled the night.

  But as the night wore on and drinks kept flowing, the line between fun and excess faded. Their laughter turned to slurred words, and soon they could barely hold themselves up in their seats. By the time the bartender announced last call, they were both a delightful mess, teetering on their stools, giggling uncontrollably at inside jokes that had long since lost their context.

  In the end, the bouncer had to intervene, pulling them from their seats and escorting them out with a bemused shake of his head. Alex stumbled, leaning against Rizz for support as they made their way into the cool, dimly lit alleyways of Ironforge. Despite their drunken state, Alex couldn’t shake the smile off her face. She felt a strange sense of contentment wash over her. In that moment, amid the chaos and clamor of the city, she realized she had a good life, even if it lacked a clear purpose.

  So here's the first chap of TGH. Hope you like it ?

  This is also a WIP of my first sapphic novel, so any comments are greatly appreciated.

  With love, R. Quinn