Graverobber I can Steal Spells of the Dead

Lyro found the daemon mask in a pile of trash. He knew its worth, so it only puzzled him why it was here, in the Outskirts, where only the banished and broken belonged.

Who cares? Its mine now, Lyro claimed, clutching it close to his chest as he zipped up his jacket. He wanted to try it on, but the only thing out here in more excess than trash was greedy eyes. Disease too, he thought with a cough, making his way back to the burned building where he spent his days. Ill have to wash it first, he thought, feeling the hollow eyes of the mask beneath his jacket. If I want to keep my sight. Even though there wasn anything worth looking at—not out here—and the water was poison anyway.

The Outskirts wasn a place anyone wanted to be in, which meant its only residents were the ones forced out of the city. The air was always musty and foul, the landscape no less drab and dirty, winding paths twisting about mounds of junk formed of abandoned and dumped things small as needles and buttons and big as cars and trucks. Crows and vultures circled lazily in the muddy skies, waiting for men dead of disease or defiance. Lyro hadn been the one to murder a rich city man for his money, it was his father, so why his mother died giving birth to him in this dump, he did not know.

Growing up all on his own, Lyro had to teach everything to himself. Including survival. Mostly survival. But some things he wished he hadn learned. Like the fact that the glowing tower visible from here, standing tallest at the heart of Clearlight City, was actually the headquarter building of the Daemon Hunter Association. People lived there. The towers peak kissed clouds and it was a house! Their meals must be costlier than the entirety of the Outskirts. How could people get so rich?

He knew the answer. Everyone did. By hunting daemons, how else? That much was certain. Lyro had seen the wealth of lesser hunters when he used to sneak into the city in broad daylight, so he feared imagining the wealth of the ones above them all. They say Tonio Lightbeam owns the biggest daemon hunter guild. He must be the richest man alive.

Lyro felt the nose of the daemon mask. If I sell it to Hetry… It would fetch a pretty price for sure, but then it would end up on the face of another daemon hunter, making the rich even richer. Id rather break it to pieces than hand it over, he concluded bitterly.

A group of thugs was nearing, so he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants to not raise any suspicion. They were hauling a cart full of junk, most likely to the Street of Scrap. Expensive junk, yet junk nonetheless. Lyro had been trying to do the same when he found the daemon mask. The factory by the river recycled stuff. But only the men actually working there made money, and they always had more people working there than needed. The rest simply tried their luck in finding something of worth to sell. The ones too good to rummage through trash got involved in crime. These three worked for such a man, Lyro knew, so he kept his eyes from their things as he walked by them.

”What ya got there? ” one of them called. ”Ay, grey-head. ” Lyros hair was actually black, but only after a wash, and not for long, not out here. ”You deaf, bwa? ”

That wouldve been a great excuse. ”Yes. ” If only Lyro hadn been so dumb, his mind being too preoccupied by the daemon mask to think straight. Im rusty…

”I see that, ” another pointed. ”Whats under yer jacket? ” Greedy eyes miss nothing.

”Pull the zip down, ” the third said. ”Lets have a look. ”

The other two glanced at him and chuckled. ”Suspect ass mother**er. ” The accused chuckled in return—

Lyro ran for it. I haven even tried the mask on—! He was on the ground tasting dust and dirt before he knew it. ”Get off me! ” Lyro shouted, pushing at the face of the one who had tackled him. ”Now we know ya got something in there, ” the man said, clinging to him.

”Alright, I give up, ” Lyro said, raising his hands. ”Ill show you, so get off. ” What could he do to get away?

The man raised a brow but did so, the other two now standing even closer. ”Chop chop. ”

Lyro climbed to his feet, dusting off his pants. ”Yeah, yeah. ” He reached for his neck, pulling down the zip of his jacket. ”Its mine, so back off. ” He knew the mask was about to get stolen the moment he pulled it out and those greedy eyes fell upon it hungrily.

”A daemon mask! ”

”You shanked a hunter or what, boy? ”

”For sure snuck into a city mansion and stole it. The balls on this kid. ”

Lyro took a step back as they straightened up, looming over him, eyeing with nothing but greed. ”Now lets all be on our way, ” Lyro suggested. ”Its getting dark. ”

They glanced at one another, then laughed. ”Gimme that, boy, or Ill take it from ya. ”

Lyro gulped. They were three. No chance his skinny ass was going to beat them. And hed found running was not an option either. ”Its mine, ” he said again, taking another step away. ”Find one yourself. ”

”I just did, ” the first one said, grinning. ”Im out to get rich, baby. ”

”Why sell it? ” the second suggested. ”Can be a daemon hunter with one of thems. ”

”I always wanted to be a daemon hunter, ” the third said. ”Enterin dungeons, killin beasts, **in beauties. I like me some adventure. ”

Lyro stabbed his fingers through the eyeholes of the mask to hold it, swinging it over his head, knowing there was no way out. ”Fuck off, or Ill break it! ”

”Hah? Well **in break you if ya do that shit! ”

”He won . Even rats know the worth of a daemon face. ”

”Dimwits don . Ill get him— ”

Lyro threw the mask on the ground, slamming it hard. ”FUCK OFF! ” If he couldn have it, he wouldn let anyone else have it either. And here I thought it was my ticket out this dump…

The mask rested face down on the ground witho