The Thief -2- The man unlocked the door to his small apartment. It was inconspicuous, and he liked it that way. The door creaked open as he quietly swept passed it and flicked on the lights. A voice made him freeze. "Hello, Rob." There, sitting on his couch sipping a ginger ale, was a woman. A tall, beautiful woman with flowing brown hair. Also, a woman he knew. "Elise," he gave her a nod of acknowledgement as he tried to shake off his surprise. "I can't believe you don't keep any booze," she commented, gazing listlessly at her soda can. Rob joined her on the couch. "What are you doing here, Elise?" "The Order sent me." "The Order?" "Oh, don't act surprised. They've been keeping an eye on you, and they don't like what they see," she took her feet off the coffee table and set down the soda can. "To hell with The Order. All they do is apply restrictions. Then whenever some brave mage breaks those restrictions in the name of good, they swoop in and claim responsibility, they claim the prize. They're scum, the whole lot." "Even your father?" Elise stood up and grabbed her coat. "Just... be careful Rob. And put your tricks to good use, not thievery." "They're not tricks, they're magic," Rob said bitterly. "Please. I've seen them. They're illusions at best." At this Elise strode to the door and into the hallway, not bothering to shut the door behind her. Rob could hear the elevator buzz as she left.