Reelo.

That was the name his mother gave him—at least, he thought so. He barely remembered her face, just a blur of warmth in the slums where he grew up. The streets were harsh, and stealing wasn’t a choice; it was a necessity. It had become part of him, etched into his bones as naturally as breathing.

As he grew older, he dreamed of starting fresh. Using the money he’d scraped from others, he headed toward the sea—a place where everything was bright, unlike the dark alleys he’d left behind. The sea was supposed to be his escape. A chance at a new life. But old habits die hard. Skills burned deep don’t fade away. They become who you are.

Stealing wasn’t personal. The bag of clams slung over his shoulder? Just another haul. Another day. Another unsuspecting mark. He grinned, tilting back his wide straw hat to admire the shimmering coastline.

Then he felt it.
That wrong kind of silence—the kind that makes your spine itch.

He turned—and froze.

Two figures rode the wind over the waves. One crouched low, eyes sharp and cold. The other stood tall, her long dark ponytail streaming behind her like a battle flag. Predators. Both of them.

This was new.
Usually, he was the one doing the hunting.

Reelo cursed under his breath. “What the hell are these idiots up to? Doing way too much for a bag of clams.” He poured more magic into the engine crystal, coaxing speed from the sputtering boat. The hull groaned, waves slapped the sides—but it wasn’t enough. Too slow.

A shadow passed overhead.

He looked up—

‘A surfboard?’

Then it crashed into the boat—with style.

“Rydan,” the name escaped Reelo’s mouth, half in awe, half in disbelief.

Rydan heard it and grinned. “One of my fans? Sorry, I only do autographs for girls.”

“Nah,” Reelo scoffed. “Just heard some stories about you.”

Rydan puffed up slightly, fixing his collar as if expecting praise. Then came the follow-up:

“Rydan, the B-rank skirt chaser.”

The grin froze.

Rydan stepped forward, a threatening smile spreading across his face.

"Where did you hear that from?" he asked, voice low.

The planks creaked under his heel. Reelo swallowed hard, clinging to a fact he didn’t want to admit: ‘They talk bad about him... but he’s still a B-rank.’

Then the girl moved.

Sandra stepped forward silently, halting Rydan with just a glance. Reelo tracked her movement, eyes narrowing. A new face. A simple clam-gathering quest. Quiet. Unassuming. ‘Definitely an F-rank.’

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Taking B-rank head-on might be suicide, but this girl? He could use her. Maybe even as a hostage to bargain his way out.

She kept walking.

‘What the hell is she thinking? Coming this close?’ Reelo’s eyes flicked to Rydan—no reaction. ‘He’s letting her do this?’

Then, with a flick of his wrist, Reelo’s enchanted rope whipped out and bound her in place. It wrapped around Sandra’s arms and torso, locking her in.

Reelo smirked. “Gotcha.”

Rydan’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. He was about to move in—but then froze.

Above Reelo, grains of sand began to drift upward, circling in the air like smoke.

Reelo didn’t notice—not because of his incompetence. He had been captured.

He couldn’t avert his gaze. Now that she was close, he could see them clearly.

Sun-like eyes trying to burn through his soul.

No rage. No fear.

Just pressure—a gaze mocking him to try something futile.

‘What’s wrong with this one? She’s tied up. I’ve got her. So why—why does it feel like I’m the one ensnared by her hands?’

Then something wet hit his cheek.

Rain?

He looked up.

Not rain. Sand.

The air churned with it, spiraling overhead—and forming something massive.

A ball? No—it started to split open, forming sharp spikes in between.

His eyes widened.

“No way,” he whispered. “That’s a—”

WHAM!

A mass of sand, bristling with spikes, slammed into Reelo’s whole body with a sickening crunch. Before he could even fall, the sand surged and wrapped around him—consuming him mid-collapse. It compacted into a dense sphere, like a predator sealing its kill.

“Wow,” Rydan muttered, momentarily speechless. He knew Sandra was special—but this? His shoulders sagged with a dry laugh. “You made the wrong choice robbing this amazon.”

Then it hit him.
‘Wait.’
Reelo was still inside.

“Wait, wait, wait—Sandra!” Rydan rushed over and shook her by the shoulder. “You’ve got to let him go!”

Sandra tilted her head, unbothered. “Why?”

“If you kill someone, you’ll be expelled from the guild!”

She blinked. “Is that bad?”

Rydan groaned, raking both hands through his hair. There was no time to explain. Reelo might already be suffocating. He lunged toward the sand sphere, shoving his hand into the gritty surface. It burned like friction and resisted like rubber, but he pushed through. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed whatever part of Reelo he could find and yanked him free.

The thief spilled out like a rag doll. Bloody. Unmoving. Rydan quickly checked his pulse—
A beat.
Thank the spirits.

Rydan flopped onto his back, heart still pounding. “There are lines you shouldn’t cross,” he warned, glancing at Sandra.

She just looked at him, puzzled. No guilt, no concern. Just curiosity.

Rydan stared up at the blue sky and let out a long sigh.
This is going to be a long day.

***

The little boat creaked as it glided steadily back toward shore, propelled by the hum of a water-powered engine enhanced by magic. Rydan stood at the stern with one hand raised, ripples swirling around his arm in a smooth spiral as he poured magic into the engine, coaxing steady power through the waves. He guided the vessel with casual expertise, feeling the flow of water respond beneath him.

Sandra, meanwhile, was crouched near the bow, completely immersed in her reclaimed prize. She combed through the clams with an intense focus, inspecting, counting, and quietly whispering to herself about which ones looked the juiciest.

The bound thief, Reelo, lay slumped beside her, still unconscious and now securely tied—wisely bound in a way that also concealed his wounds. Occasionally, his body would slide with the boat’s sway, but Sandra didn’t spare him a single glance—he was less important than a cracked shell she’d just found.

Rydan glanced toward the horizon where the sky had started to glow in warm oranges and pinks. The sun was dipping, and shadows were stretching long across the gentle waves. He sighed.

“Hate to break it to you,” keeping the engine humming with steady magic, “but we’ll hit shore soon. Might wanna wrap up your clam inspection.”

Sandra looked at Rydan, her expression somewhere between irritation and betrayal. Her hands paused protectively over the clam sack.

He met her gaze and shrugged. “Not my fault. It’s his,” he added, nodding toward the still- limp Reelo. “If he hadn’t stolen your treasure, we’d be back by now.”

Sandra narrowed her eyes, then gave an exaggerated sigh and secured her sack with a careful knot.

“Also, daylight hours will be ending soon,” Rydan said, channeling more magic into the engine crystal. The boat surged forward with a deep hum, its speed rising as waves parted around the hull.

Sandra blinked. “What does that mean?”

Rydan glanced back at her, amused. “It means the guild closes at sunset. If we don’t get back soon, we’ll miss drop-off—and your clams won’t count.”

Sandra froze for a beat, then scrambled to her feet. “Why didn’t you say that first?!”

She lunged forward, gripping Rydan’s collar with both hands and shaking him. Her eyes gleamed with urgency.

“Go faster.”

“Alright, alright!” Rydan laughed, nearly stumbling as he poured more magic into the engine crystal. The boat lurched forward with a hiss of steam and churned water.

A low crest of waves rose ahead—just beyond it, the faint outline of the beach came into view. Lanterns from the seaside town were starting to flicker to life in the distance, little golden dots along the shore. They were nearly back.

***

The two burst through the front doors of the beachside adventurer guild, dragging in the scent of seawater and victory—plus one unconscious thief tied up in the very rope he’d used to steal. Inside, the usually bustling guild hall was nearly empty, the soft murmur of closing-time preparations floating in the air.

Sandra was the first to reach the front desk, slapping the now slightly dripping sack of clams onto the counter with the pride of a queen presenting a royal decree. Rydan followed behind, carrying Reelo over one shoulder like a lumpy backpack.

Eluviel, the ever-cheerful elven receptionist, looked up from her counter, blinking in surprise as she took in the scene. She’d already changed out of her swimsuit and was slipping on her cloak, clearly ready to head home. “Oh! That’s… quite the haul.” She gave Rydan a quick nod and a playful smile. “Back so soon? You two make it just under the wire.”

Sandra narrowed her eyes and asked, “So… are we late?”

Eluviel laughed softly, shaking her head. “Barely. But you’re lucky the guild’s patience is as deep as the sea.”

She leaned forward, loosening the top of the sack just enough to peek inside. A glimmer of genuine admiration crossed her face. “That’s a lot of clams. Big ones, too.”

Sandra crossed her arms and waited for the praise she expected.

Instead, the receptionist gave a slightly nervous smile. “Uh… just one thing. The shopkeeper who posted the commission already closed for the day. He’s strict about it—won’t take deliveries after sunset.”

Sandra’s brows twitched. “So?”

“Well,” the receptionist said, wincing, “we can keep your clams in the back in one of our ice boxes—enchanted with cold magic—but I have to be honest with you… the quality’s going to drop overnight.”

Sandra blinked, frown deepening.

“And when quality drops, so does the price. Here’s your reward—minus the freshness deduction and guild equipment fee. It’s about ten percent, I think,” Eluviel said nervously, pushing a small pouch of copper across the counter.

Sandra’s mouth fell open slightly, as if physically struck. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” the receptionist said with a helpless shrug. “It’s in the quest fine print. See?” She pulled out a copy of the original posting and pointed to a line near the bottom in tiny, almost hostile handwriting.

Sandra leaned forward, eyes scanning it like she expected the letters to change under pressure. Then her eyes moved to the culprit.

Reelo blinked awake, confused and disoriented—until he noticed Sandra’s eyes boring into him with the promise of doom.
Why is this girl still here?! he thought, trying to cower further into the corner.

She took a slow, ominous step toward him. Her pupils narrowed like a predator ready to pounce.

Rydan slipped in between them with both hands up. “Whoa, whoa! Easy now, princess.”

Sandra didn’t stop glaring, still trying to take a step forward—even as Rydan’s hand gently held her back, stopping her.

Rydan threw on a half-grin. “Tell you what—I’ll buy dinner. Something tasty. Just don’t eat the thief.”

Reelo whimpered and curled up tighter on the floor.

Eluviel tried not to laugh behind the counter. “You two really know how to make a scene.”