Born to Steal Gods ( Fairy Tail )

Lucius Draganov was sprawled on the bed in his room at the Anchor Tavern, eyes red from exhaustion and head pounding. The whole night had been a damn nightmare: he'd read every page of the beginner magic books, scribbled notes, tried spells, and got nothing. The magical power was there, a warm tingling in his chest like a charged battery, but the spells—sparks, breezes, lifting a feather—remained dead. He'd tried "Ventus" until his voice was hoarse, waving his hand like an idiot. He'd tried "Lumen," pointing at the ceiling, and the room stayed dark. He kicked the table, pissed off, the candle rolling to the floor.

"What the hell is this?!" he growled, running a hand through his white hair. "I'm feeling the magical power, I know all the damn theory, and this cross does nothing! Damn it, what's wrong?"

He glared at the black cross on his right palm, which seemed to mock him. The books from Twilight Tome—Basics of Magic for Beginners, First Steps in Magical Flow, Fundamentals of Practical Magic, and Guide to Simple Spells—were scattered on the bed, covered in scribbles. He knew everything about magical power, guilds, lacrima, the Magic Council, even Fiore's magic types, but in practice? Zero. He crumpled a notebook page, the strange language's symbols falling to the floor. He huffed, collapsing onto the bed as sunlight crept through the window.

"I'm turning into a useless nerd," he muttered, his tone mocking. "And without sleep, to top it off."

Exhausted as hell, he threw on the hooded cloak that covered his body and headed downstairs. The tavern was quiet, with a few patrons eating breakfast and sweeping enchanted crumbs that glowed on the floor. Mara was at the counter, chatting with a bearded guy in a gray cloak who looked like a merchant or a low-tier mage. Lucius sat at a nearby table, hood shadowing his face, and raised a hand.

"Mara, a beer and some bread," he said, voice hoarse. "And don't take forever, I'm starving."

Mara raised an eyebrow but brought the glowing mug and a hot loaf.

"Beer in the morning, Lucius?" she said with a mocking smile. "Your face looks worse than the tavern floor. Long night?"

"Shut up and let me eat," he grumbled, his crooked smile forced.

He bit into the bread, eyes fixed on Mara and the bearded guy, named Vitor. Their conversation reached his ears, and he listened, chewing slowly, keeping his mouth shut.

"…that port gang's screwing everyone," Vitor said, slamming his mug on the counter. "Thefts, scams, protection rackets… I'm telling you, Mara, this 'black cloak' leading that crap is turning Hargeon into chaos. No one knows who he is, but the merchants are pissed. Last week, they stole a lacrima shipment from Crocus. Thousands of Jewels down the drain!"

Mara crossed her arms, frowning.

"I don't know, Vitor," she said. "They're clever, vanishing before anyone catches them. How are they gonna find this leader?"

Vitor gave a dry laugh, taking a swig.

"They won't last," he said. "Some rich merchants hired small guild mages to hunt those thugs. They're patrolling the port, using tracking spells, setting ambushes. I heard they caught one of them, interrogating him in a warehouse by the port. Guy's taking a beating but hasn't talked yet. They don't know who the 'black cloak' is, but they're getting close."

Mara shook her head, wiping a mug.

"And the Magic Council?" she asked. "They involved?"

Vitor leaned in, lowering his voice, but Lucius still heard.

"Not yet," he said. "But there's a rumor they're watching Hargeon. This gang's causing trouble in nearby cities too. If the merchants push, the Council will send an agent, and then it's over. Those guys don't mess around, Mara. A Council mage could wipe out this gang in a day. And if they find the leader, it's a cell in Era, no escape."

Mara whistled, impressed.

"Heavy," she said. "But this 'black cloak' must be a genius, with no one knowing who he is."

Vitor scoffed, laughing.

"Genius or coward," he said. "He's hiding well, but it won't last. The hired mages are motivated, and the merchants are throwing Jewels at whoever brings his head. I bet in a week, Hargeon's free of this plague."

Lucius swallowed his bread, his stomach twisting. He took a sip of beer, his crooked smile gone. Damn it, I need magic now, he thought, staring at the table. The gang was getting too famous, and he knew that spelled trouble. Guild mages were bad enough, but the Magic Council? Those were the heavy hitters, like a damn mage SWAT team. He needed the cross working, or he was screwed. He stayed quiet, absorbing every word, storing it in his mind as he finished the beer.

He paid the bill, adjusted his cloak, and left, hood low, mind racing. Time to talk to the thugs.

As dusk fell, Lucius reached the usual alley, hood covering his face. The three thugs—big guy, scrawny, and shorty—were there, trembling, sweating bullets. The scrawny one stepped forward, voice faltering.

"Boss, we're screwed!" he said. "Kael, one of the new guys, got caught by some mages yesterday! They're interrogating him in a port warehouse. He hasn't talked yet, but… it's bad, boss!"

The big guy scratched the scar on his cheek, his club shaking in his hand.

"What if he talks?" he asked. "They don't know it's you, but… what if they figure something out?"

Lucius crossed his arms, his crooked smile appearing, but his eyes were ice-cold.

"Shut up, you useless lot," he said, voice calm but sharp. "Kael doesn't know who I am. Only you three do, so relax. But listen up: if any of you get caught and squeal that I'm the boss, I'm screwed, but I guarantee you'll go down before me." His gaze swept over them, cold as a killer's, radiating a heavy energy that seemed to suck the air from the alley. "I always find traitors."

The thugs swallowed hard, a chill running down their spines. Sweat dripped down their backs, and the scrawny one's legs shook. The short one gripped his rusty knife, face pale. The big guy tried to speak, but his voice failed.

"Easy, boss!" the scrawny one said, raising his hands, voice trembling. "We won't say a word! Even if they catch us, our mouths stay shut. Swear it!"

The short one nodded quickly, nearly tripping.

"Yeah, boss!" he said. "We're loyal! No one knows it's you, no one! You're good!"

Lucius gave a low laugh, his tone mocking.

"Good?" he said. "You're a bunch of idiots, so don't make me rely on luck. Things are hot. I've got enough Jewels stashed to live easy for months, so we're laying low. No 'lost merchant,' no 'fake auction.' Just small thefts, nothing flashy. And one more thing: if someone tries to grab you, run. Don't play tough. Run, hide, vanish. And be smarter, damn it! You're strutting around like you own the port, and that's drawing eyes. One wrong move, and you're in the same hole as Kael."

The scrawny one's eyes widened, face pale.

"Run?" he stammered. "But… what if the mages use those tracking spells?"

Lucius stepped closer, his tone colder.

"If they use tracking, you're screwed," he said. "So be smart. No shiny trinkets, no getting drunk and talking crap in taverns. Use the alleys, avoid the main market. If you see a mage, turn around. I'm tired of cleaning up your mess."

The big guy nodded, nervous.

"Got it, boss," he said. "But… what about you? What're you gonna do?"

Lucius gave a low laugh, his crooked smile gleaming under the hood.

"Me?" he said. "I'll handle this my way. You just do what I said. Meet me here tomorrow, same time. Now get lost before I lose my patience."

The thugs nodded quickly, darting into the shadows. Lucius stayed in the alley, mind racing. He had enough cash to coast for months, but the Magic Council and guild mages were closing in. He needed the damn magic or [Theft] working, and fast.

He left the alley and wandered Hargeon, hood low, hands in pockets. The streets were lively, with lacrima lights illuminating stalls and mages doing tricks for tips. He stopped at a square near a glowing fountain, where two merchants were whispering on a bench. Lucius leaned against a nearby wall, hood covering his face, and listened, pretending to adjust his cloak.

"…the Magic Council's coming to Hargeon, no way around it," said the first merchant, a fat guy with a fancy hat, wiping sweat from his brow. "This 'black cloak' gang is screwing everything. They stole my magical herb shipment the day before yesterday, believe it? Three thousand Jewels gone! And worse, they're charging protection from port shopkeepers. If you don't pay, you get a beating or your goods vanish."

The second merchant, a thin old man with a scruffy beard, shook his head, nervous.

"It's a disgrace," he said. "Hargeon never had this kind of trouble. This 'black cloak' is a demon. I heard he plans every scam like a chess master. No one's seen his face, no one knows his name. But the mages hired by the merchants are hunting him. They caught one of his thugs, you know? Interrogating him in a warehouse. If he talks, it could be the end of the gang."

The fat one scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Hope so, but I don't trust these small guild mages," he said. "They're good for hunting monsters, but catching a leader like this? Doubt it. That's why we're pressuring the Magic Council. We sent a letter to Era, signed by twenty merchants. If they send an agent, this 'black cloak' is done. The Council doesn't let bandits slip. They'll throw him in a cell in Era, or worse, if he's a mage."

The old man's eyes widened, leaning in.

"Worse?" he asked. "Like what?"

The fat one lowered his voice, and Lucius strained to hear.

"I heard if the leader's a dangerous mage, the Council might send him to a secret prison, like that floating fortress no one knows where it is," he said. "Or, if he resists, they take him out on the spot. The Council's fed up with gangs disrupting Fiore's trade. And this gang's causing trouble even in Crocus, believe it? A friend there said they stole a magical artifact from a noble. The Council's furious."

The old man whistled, scratching his beard.

"Damn, then it's only a matter of time," he said. "But what if this 'black cloak' is smarter? What if he slips away before the Council arrives?"

The fat one gave a tense laugh.

"Slip away where?" he said. "Hargeon's surrounded by hired mages, and the port's being watched. He might be clever, but he's not invisible. Besides, the merchants are offering a fat reward: ten thousand Jewels for his head. Someone will turn him in, even one of his own thugs."

Lucius turned his face away, heart racing. Damn it, Magic Council? he thought. He knew they were elite mages, the kind who didn't mess around. A ten-thousand-Jewel bounty? That was enough to make anyone betray. And a secret prison? This is getting worse, he thought, clenching his fist, the black cross silent in his palm. How do I activate this thing? What does this cross do? I need a trump card, and fast!

He kept walking, lost in thought, until he bumped into a guy on the street. It was a mage, by the look: blue cloak, wand at his waist, short hair, and annoyed eyes. Probably one of the ones hired to patrol the city. The guy cursed:

"Watch where you're going, idiot!" he said, shoving Lucius with his shoulder. "I'm late, get out of the way!"

Lucius shot a glare, his blue eyes flashing under the hood, but held back from snapping. In the moment of the shove, his right hand brushed the mage's arm, and the black cross warmed. A voice echoed in his head, clear and cold:

"[Theft] activated. The ability was dormant. Contact with a magical being awakened its potential. To steal a magical ability, choose a specific target and touch them with the cross on your right palm, using your magical power to activate. The cross will emit a glow when initiated. You will receive a designated mission with a time limit to complete. Failure will result in a punishment proportional to the targeted ability. Only one ability per person, which will be permanently lost to the victim. Ability ready for use."

Lucius froze, eyes wide. The cross pulsed once, glowing with a dark, shadowy light, then faded. The mage was already walking away, grumbling. Lucius looked at his hand, heart pounding.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered, voice trembling with excitement. "Steal an ability, but with a mission and punishment? Damn, that's a dirty game!"

He gave a low laugh, mind racing. The ability had been dormant, like a locked weapon. The touch with the mage "unlocked" [Theft], but he understood he needed to choose a target, touch them with the cross, and use his magical power to fully activate it. Then came a mission with a deadline, and a punishment if he screwed up. Only one ability per person, and the victim lost it forever. It was dangerous, but Lucius loved the risk.

He decided to wander the city more, eyes sharp. Hargeon was full of mages, and he started observing closely. Near the port, he saw a mediocre guy tossing sparks to impress kids, clearly an amateur who barely controlled his magical power. In a tavern, he spotted a woman with runes floating around her, stronger but still common, maybe good with support spells. In an alley, he passed a scrawny mage conjuring simple illusions, like dancing shadows, that impressed no one. These are trash, Lucius thought, scoffing. He needed something bigger.

In the central square, he stopped, eyes locked on a tall mage manipulating water. The guy was big, in a dark green cloak, making water spheres spin in the air, shaping them into complex forms that reflected lacrima lights. The crowd clapped, and even a merchant tossed some Jewels. The mage's aura was heavy, like he could turn those spheres into blades in a blink. Lucius approached slowly, hood covering his face, a wicked smile forming.

"Nice ability," he thought, eyes glinting. "Think I found my target."

"Alright, you bastard," he murmured, adjusting his hood. "Let's see what this cross can do with you."

He stayed in the shadows, watching the water mage, his mind buzzing with plans. He knew he needed to touch the guy, use his magical power to activate the cross, then complete whatever mission came. The deadline and punishment were a problem, but he'd figure it out. Hargeon was a hunting ground, and he was ready to pick the perfect prey.