• The city of Newbury could have been mistaken for a ghost town. The asphalt streets were empty, no one to be seen. Wind picked up the dirt and tossed it all around in the air, and the place really did look like a community from an old Western Movie.
    The only sounds were a few buzzing cicadas and an old pop song coming from a boom box that was precariously perched on a windowsill on the second floor of a brick building. It was twilight, and the sky was split into halves, the lower portion still a glowing orange left by day, and closing down on over it was the dark night.
    A dark figure suddenly appeared at the city gate, his expression hidden by the shadow of his hat. He walked slowly and ominously down the road. There was a large telephone pole on the side of the road, painted with hundred of different flyers and signs. The man crossed the pole, and searched its contents, something in particular. When he found the paper he was looking for, he snatched the creamy parchment from its place, and looked it over.
    It was a wanted sign. The picture of a young boy with black hair, dark as midnight and liquid crystal blue eyes was in the center of the page. The boy had a cloak wrapped around his broad shoulders, and his ivory white face bore a torn expression.
    The man clutched the paper so hard with fury, that it began to tear. He saw what he was doing and flattened it out, and gently tucked it away in his coat pocket.
    People stared at the stranger from their windows, with much curiosity. It wasn't often that their blank little city got strange visitors such as the man appeared to be. He walked across the street, his steps not seeming to take him to where he needed to go fast enough.
    Finally he stood in front of a small building with a flickering green neon sign that read Link Bar. He opened the door to the bar, the shop bell echoing through the streets, and walked inside.
    The bar fell silent for a split second, to examine the newcomer, then immediately went back to what they were doing. The bar was like any old tavern, with a pool tabled in the corner, a counter with round barstools in front of it, dining tables, and poker tables.
    The man took a seat at the mahogany wood counter, and began rapping his fingers impatiently on the polished wood.
    "What's a man have to do to get a drink around here?" he asked jokingly. He had a gruff voice, but it was smooth and young.
    The bartender nodded at him, putting a mug he had just been cleaning on the shelf on the wall. He walked over and stood in front of the man.
    "What can I get for ya?" He asked, leaning on the counter.
    "Just a beer please."
    The bartender grunted, and began to fill of a cup for his customer. But the man had pulled out his wanted sign again, studying it more carefully. The bartender looked over the counter at the paper, and nodded to himself.
    "Ah, that there's the Shadow." He said, handing the man his drink. "Greatest thief of all times, if you ask me. But he's just a kid, and that’s what's so fascinating. Got himself into a heap of trouble though."
    "Yes, yes." the man said, tucking the sign back into his coat. "I know all about him."
    "Oh. Well, if I may ask, what brings you here to Newbury?. I can see you're new here." The bartender said, taking the money the man had handed to him, as well as the empty mug.
    "Didn't anyone tell you?" the man said, standing up from his seat, getting ready to leave. He tipped his hat at the others in the bar, who had just turned around to look at what was going on. The man suddenly bore a wicked grin.
    "Why, I'm here to destroy the Shadow."

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------


    A dark shape moved swiftly through the dark trees in the forest off the edge of town. The face of the figure was not visible from the naked eye, for her wore a long, black cloak. He looked as he was. A Shadow.
    He dodged through the dead maple trees, his footprints in the ground blanketed up by the falling snow as he ran. What luck. He thought, clutching the potato sack he held in his right hand, which was jingling as he moved, due to its contents. Shadow leaped over a boulder with ease, and took hold of a tree and pulled himself around it, landing at the foot of a large rock cave.
    The entrance was small enough for most people to not think of it as a place where fugitives might live, which made it the perfect house for Shadow. He slipped in through the hole, and landed with a light thud inside a large cavern. The interior of his home was decorated with posters, and small articles and silver instruments strewn across the floor, which was covered by a brightly colored carpet. Two straw, twin sized mattresses were in the corner, each one had a large pillow and a blue woolen blanket on top of them. A velvet couch sat in the opposite corner. A young boy with light blonde hair was sleeping on it, under a heap of white sheets. There was a single light that lit the entire room, and it came from an ornate chandelier hanging crookedly from the rock ceiling.
    Shadow swung the sack onto the floor with a loud clang, and the boy on the couch sat up abruptly to look at Shadow. He was wearing a worn out button down shirt, with the sleeves appearing to have been ripped off. His eyes were heavy with sleep, as they glared at Shadow with intensity.
    "Get up, Jasper. Come see the loot I managed to get today." Shadow said, ignoring Jasper's scowl.
    "First off, its Fox, remember? We keep to our codenames when doing business, so that we don't get in trouble, have you forgotten? Or don't you care about safety?
    "Yeah, sure. Safety first." Shadow rolled his eyes. "I've told you, this new place is secure. What happened in Finchley market's attic is nothing. We got out of there in time, didn't we?"
    "…Yeah. I'm so used to being… alert." Fox sighed, and collapsed back onto the couch.
    " 'S alright, mate. Here come take a look at these beauties."
    Shadow held up a pearl necklace that fell all the way to the floor, and smiled triumphantly as Fox's eyes widened in amazement.
    "Whoa. What'd you do, rob an entire jewelry store?"
    "It was closing down anyway." Shadow tossed the necklace back onto the pile of other trinkets.
    "I must say I'm impressed." Fox ran a tired hand through his matted hair.
    "The headlines in Newbury Times say it every week, I'm surprised you haven't learned it by now. 'Greatest thief in all of Newbury!'" Shadow stood up on a wooden end table, and took a bow.
    Fox chuckled lightly at his friend's enthusiasm, and walked over to the sack and examined the contents.
    "You didn't manage to get any food, did you? I've been living off canned goods for weeks."
    Shadow rolled his eyes and hopped off the table, landing with a soft thud.
    "Luck favors you today, my friend. I managed to pick up some bagels from that shop that’s closing next week. But I've told you, I can't keep going out in the day like this. I'm completely vulnerable." He said.
    "Which is why I usually take the day shifts. You know, we're never going to find that pendent. We've searched and stolen from every store, house, and yard in Newbury. Sure, looking for the damn thing has increased our thievery skills, provided us with food, nice trinkets, money… But when are you going to realize, no such thing exists?"
    "Fox… That pendent is the one thing that could explain to me my powers… my family… everything! It speaks of the realm of the dark, and shadows and..."
    "Trinity."
    Shadow winced when he heard the ferocity in Fox's voice when he spoke his given name.
    "Trin, its just a story. Something you heard as a child before you went to bed. A legend, a fairytale. Ever since you ran away from your home and met me, all you've been searching for is this… pendent." Fox said quietly.
    There was and uncomfortable silence. Shadow said nothing for a minute, then finally spoke without looking at Fox.
    "I'm going to continue looking for it. My thieving shifts are at night, so I can do what I want with them. You can do what you want with your shifts."
    "Yes and I'll be the one who comes home with a plate full of cookies." Fox sighed, and fell back onto the couch, picking up a book that had been tossed aside and began reading to himself.
    Shadow said no more, simply leafed through the silver objects that were lying on top of the beat up potato sack.
    His hand traced the outline of the pile, searching. He suddenly felt something papery in his trail. He pulled the parchment out from under the pile it had been buried under, and studied it carefully.
    Shadow crumpled up the sheet, and tossed it to a corner, then continued his work. The jewelry needed to be cleaned before he could sell any of it…
    "What was that?"