The flask might not have been worth a lot, but there was a sentimental value to it. After all, the flask often contributed to Copé's intoxication.
That much was special in itself, but it was still worth at least a considerable amount on its own. Copé hadn't ever had a chance to get it appraised at the thieves’ network, but he expected the flask to be worth at least enough coin for it to be missed. Secrat had nicked it not long ago from a merchant during one of his overtly elaborate sale's pitches.
Copé sat, cooped up in his home, perched on his bed. He looked at the gem. He had scrubbed at it earlier with some warm water and the results had been pleasant. No doubt, the item was worth more than Christique was willing to let on. The thief admired its intricacies.
On it, there were scribblings the thief hadn't understood at first. But upon closer inspection, he could see they depicted a dragon. Such an outlandish and ridiculous concept. The dragon didn't have an array of colors or much depicting it. Sapphire eyes. Had Secrat not been intently studying it, he likely would have missed it. Other-wise, there was a gold plating around the emerald Secrat had earlier been oblivious to. It was what hooked it onto the necklace and kept it from being a plain, flat chunk of emerald. That, and of course, the dragon engraving.
Copé was taken by it, he liked the feel of it. Like a rock, but so much smoother. But, a part, nay, a lot of him was thinking about his flask. Far more than a fair trade off, the necklace probably could have bought him ten flasks and more, but Copé couldn't help but think about it. The perfect night unraveled by a foolish mistake. He was above such amateur mistakes. Another Azlak Temps fiasco. That was his ego talking, and he knew it, but that wasn't enough to simply dispel it out of him.
Copé took one of his pine sticks out and lit it. He liked the look of the flame in his hands. Felt special and unique. Once lighting a cigarette, he took a huff out of it. The feeling of tobacco in his lungs never filled him with the same satisfaction it did others.
Toucan Veras loved his cigarettes almost as much as he loved the Flux or hated the Aeonians. He'd constantly be taking in one of them. Copé never saw the appeal of it. Secrat hoped it would do some to calm his nerves, and although that failed, he, at the absolute least, had something to twirl around in his hands. To distract him.
Secrat bit the bottom of the cigarette. It was a habit. The taste was awful. He arose to his feet from his bed, and put out the cigarette, the stuff simply didn't do it for him. Near the window in his small shack, the fresh air felt more inviting.
There was a small but rambunctious crowd of merchants gathered around. Merchants usually started themselves in the early hours of the morning which made it difficult to sleep. The thief was accustomed to late hours, but the merchants didn't seem to care about that. How inconsiderate. The heat being so immense meant they wore something or another on their head. From turbans to straw hats, anything that kept their heads from blistering would suffice. Copé watched them inattentively for a time, not able to hear what they were saying, but honestly not being all that curious. His eyes went down over to some children running around. It wasn't uncommon for children to be brought out to the Trading Network.
It wasn't uncommon for children to steal either. Petite and innocent, the opportunity was too 'there' to pass up.
Secrat stepped out from his shack home, standing out at the doorway just a foot or two. The flask was unfortunate. He wished it could have been salvaged somehow, but he knew it was not a priority.
No. Secrat Copé would travel to the thieves and do away with the necklace for as much as he could. After that, whatever happened would happen. Copé walked forward toward the merchants and made his way.
The Red Flux & the Wunderkind THief
Chapter One (1 - 2 - 3)