"Donuts?" I said in disbelief.

  "That is correct, little mage," the Pigeon King replied. "I require the finest fried dough confectioneries this city has to offer.”

  "You want me to go and steal donuts?" I asked.

  "Stealing is optional. I wish for you to acquire them.”

  I looked around and scratched my head. It'd only been a day since I had driven away the feral felines from the market square, before I found myself summoned again, this time by an emissary to the Pigeon King's court. The market square was empty as usual, and the Pigeon King had set himself up on a small clock tower, surrounded by no less than 50 of his followers. There were pigeons everywhere, cooing, pecking, and preening all around me. And now, he had another ludicrous request for me.

  "Well, I can go down to the corner tomorrow morning and get…”

  "I do not want corner donuts!" the Pigeon King bristled, his feathers ruffling. "I wish for the finest confectioneries in the land.”

  "Yeah, I heard that bit," I said, nonplussed. "Do you have a bakery in mind?”

  "Of course I do! The Royal Patisserie! Confections fit for a king," the Pigeon King announced, repeating the famous bakery’s slogan.

  "Okay, sure," I said with a shrug. "I could pick you up some in the morning, I guess, when they open.”

  "Please, mage," the Pigeon King implored. "I've seen your abode. You don't have the wealth to acquire those.”

  That stung, but he wasn't wrong. The Royal Patisserie was a very exclusive bakery with eye-watering prices designed specifically to keep people like me away. I didn't even have money for instant noodles, let alone fancy doughnuts.

  "Well, I get paid next week…” I began.

  "I cannot wait until next week. My followers wish to revel in our victory. We shall feast and celebrate.”

  The Pigeon King threw up his wings, and his followers cawed raucously and beat their wings.

  "So you want me to go and break into this patisserie and steal you donuts?" I asked.

  The Pigeon King thought about this for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, exactly that, mage. Well done."

  "But that's illegal," I said.

  "And prowling around the streets with magical weapons, assaulting people, is what exactly?" the Pigeon King replied.

  Well, he had me there.

  "Okay, so all I have to do is get you these donuts?" I asked.

  "Correct," the Pigeon King replied.

  "Okay, no problem… my liege," I remembered to add after a sharp look from the Pigeon King. "I will go and acquire these donuts for you."

  "Then be gone, mage, and I wish you success on your journey. Do not fail me."

  "I won't," I replied, shaking my head at the bizarre request

  At least I didn't have to fight feral cats this time. How hard could it be to get some donuts from a shop? Fast forward an hour, and I found myself outside the patisserie in question. The Royal Patisserie was in the Core, which certainly made things more tricky. When I was still a baby, New London had been split into two parts. The boroughs, where I was from, were practically lawless. Security measures and police presence were fairly optional and lacklustre across the Boroughs. However, in the Core, everything was monitored, everything was tracked, and everything got dealt with. From the moment you entered the Core, your wrist pod was identified, and your location was tracked. Every transaction was monitored, every step you took and every place you visited was logged and catalogued.

  I felt nervous just being here, especially this late at night. Security drones kept whizzing by, stopping to look at me and then whizzing off again. I was sure there were probably at least a dozen hidden cameras tracking me. I tried to look casual, like I was just checking out the window, seeing what they had. But I definitely knew that I stuck out as a dirty borough brat, and I was certain it wouldn't be long before the police came by to find out what I was doing.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I had a quick look around the front of the patisserie. It looked like a fairly standard shop setup. In the Core, they didn't even have shutters to go down at night, they didn’t need them. I looked up and down the neat, clean streets, and a part of me wondered what it would be like to live in a place with no graffiti, no broken bottles, no broken paving stones, and streetlights that actually worked. The alleys didn’t even smell of piss!

  I peered through the window at the pastries and almost choked. They cost more than all the clothes on my back! Yeah, the only way I was getting these donuts was by committing a crime.

  I sighed and then sidled all the way down the side of the shop, trying to look like I was just on a casual walk, my eyes darting around, noting the CCTV cameras on the corners, trying to memorize the pattern of the drones zipping by in the night sky.

  As I reached around towards the back of the bakery, I realized it was far bigger than I had first thought. In fact, I would go as far as to say it was almost a mini factory of patisseries. I could see it stretching around the corner, and I had no idea how deep it went. Something caught my eye. There were barred windows at the back; the door was a heavy metal one leading to the back garden, and there were cameras set up all around the back of the factory. Strangely beefy security for a bakery.

  "Oi, what are you looking at, lad?" a voice barked at me.

  I jumped and turned around to see a patrolman, not a police officer, but a private security guard who was walking around the back garden. He looked over the wall at me.

  "Nothing, just going for a walk.” I said, tucking my hands in my pockets and shrugging.

  "Well then, you best keep walking," the guard glowered at me.

  I shrugged again and began walking away. This was gonna be tougher than just nicking a box of donuts. I ran my tongue around my mouth thoughtfully. I needed to get home and plan this because I wasn't sure what the penalty was for breaking and entering into a bakery, but with this level of security, I needed a plan.

  *

  "It's not possible," I said to the Pigeon King after returning to his court. "The security there is ridiculous. There are cameras, iron bars, and a security guard. How can I break in there?"

  The Pigeon King was lounging in a birdbath with two, I presumed, female pigeons attending to him, preening his feathers and cleaning them.

  "Oh, mageling, do you give up so easily? What kind of follower returns to his king with empty hands and excuses?" the Pigeon King said aloofly.

  "I'm not getting arrested for your donuts," I said to him.

  "Ah, it's the constabulary you fear, mageling?" the Pigeon King said, and I was sure the female pigeons tittered.

  "Well, yeah, obviously, but it's not just that. It's impossible! I'm not a professional thief. I don't know how to get in there short of maybe blowing a hole in the window, grabbing some donuts, and running," I said in frustration.

  "Ridiculous," the Pigeon King said, flapping his arm and splashing water everywhere. "You could damage the confectionaries! Why can you simply not break in covertly like the assassins of old?”

  "Because I'm not an assassin. I can barely tie my shoelaces without losing my balance!"

  "Ah, so it's an issue of your physical capabilities that's holding you back?" the Pigeon King said.

  "Well, I guess, and the fact that I'm visible," I replied, and a thought struck me. "Hey, do you know any invisibility spells?”

  The Pigeon King cocked his head and looked at me.

  "Oh, my dear boy, those are so far beyond you. You'd have a better chance of growing wings and flying." Then the Pigeon King thought for a moment. "Of course, there are potions.”

  "That make me invisible?" I said eagerly.

  "No, but there are potions that can increase your physical abilities," the Pigeon King said, stroking his beak with his wing in a thoughtful gesture. "Yes, I think that might not be too far beyond your capabilities."

  "Like an agility potion?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. I didn't give a damn about his donuts, but if he could actually teach me something, then I was interested.

  "Yes, it's a potion that increases basic agility, speed, and it heightens your reflexes as well," the Pigeon King replied.

  "Okay, so how do I do it?" I said.

  "Well, of course, you have the standard protocols for mixing a potion," the Pigeon King began and then saw the blank look on my face. "Please, mageling, don't tell me you've never crafted a potion before.”

  I shrugged and said nothing.

  "Oh dear," the Pigeon King sighed, his chest deflating. "I don't have time to teach you such basic things, but what I can do is get my feathered followers to begin the process and create the standard base for you. Whilst they do that, you'll need to collect the specific ingredients.”

  "What ingredients?" I replied.

  "The Potion of Nimble Flight's ingredients are hidden in the Feathers of Purity, the Shadows of Life, and the Whispers of the Long Gone. Find them or remain bound to the ground," he said, his voice becoming chant-like and energy crackled around us.

  I just stared at him.

  "Artful prose is lost upon your generation," the Pigeon King said exasperatedly. "What you'll need, boy, is the feather of a rooftop dove, a white one preferably. You'll need a shadow bottled at its longest and the essence of a forgotten memory."

  "What does that mean?" I replied. "Where am I gonna find a dove, and how do you bottle a shadow? And what is the essence of a forgotten memory?"

  The Pigeon King sighed again and then tapped the side of his head with his wing as if I was giving him a headache.

  "Right, listen carefully now…”