Things that had been the merest commonplaces of his life then, deep sleep, the sense of beauty around him, all desire, had flown away and the gaps they left were filled only with the great listlessness of his disillusion.
-- F. Scott Fitzgerald
The fog would have ruined everything if it wasn't for the fact that Cyphion was used to running around in this type of weather. He hugged his cape tighter around him, took a deep breath, and jumped onto the roof with hardly a noise. He grinned to himself at this small success, then went dashing across the rooftops of the town until he found the mansion that he had visited earlier than afternoon. He paid a visit dressed as Lord Gwaine Folkvar, wearing a snobby and well-bred demeanor, and certainly not as Cyphion, nightly thief/hero extraordinaire.
Cyphion didn't find out about his parentage until the palace's guards had picked him out of a fight and informed him that his father, Lord Folkvar, had passed away two nights ago and that he was the only son. He was whisked away from his life of wandering and thrown into tight, expensive clothes with a brand new sister as well. Despite his affection for his newfound family, he hated his new life and even thought of running away until he went with Lori to visit a family friend. He realized then that half the nobility had more money than they deserved, and that night he reverted back to thieving. Rather than keep the goods for himself, however, he gave everything he stole to the peasant families. He saw himself reflected in the grateful smiles of the young boys, and fervently wished that they made better choices than he ever did.
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