"Careful with that, you buffoon!" I clamored, watching as these so-called "experts" took my books and scrolls, stuffed them into sacks and bags, and all but threw them into the middle of the tower. Did they have no respect for knowledge?!

With a grunt, a growl, and a groan, I watched as my studies were taken away from me, all because some idiot thought he caught me studying dark magic. Though, he technically did, but I was not learning the forbidden arts! No, heavens no! No magician in their right mind would learn such corrupting magic! No, what I was studying was the power to manipulate darkness in a literal fashion. Not the power over shadows, though by manipulating darkness, I would naturally gain dominion over shadows, but that was TECHNICALLY another form of magic.

For three hours I had argued with the tower master, the court meister, and several high mage's about my works, but they might as well of had corks stuffed into those wrinkly old ears of theirs, for they refused to listen. They just kept repeating, "we shall investigate this matter thoroughly." And of all times for this to happen! I was nearly on the cusp of a breakthrough! I can only imagine the benefits that darkness magic - not dark magic - could provide...

A defeated sigh escaped my lips as I slumped my shoulders and closing my eyes. In that moment, a loud and crisp sound echoed throughout the chamber. It was the sound no pursuer of knowledge ever wanted to hear - that of paper being torn. My head jolted up and my eyes shot open, peering over toward where the sound originated. I was met with a young woman holding a parchment--what used to be a parchment in both her hands. She looked at me with fear and sorrow. My eye twitched, but I had lost all motivation, and thus all I did was slump over to a chair and slink into it, with a look of defeat.

I had no doubt that I would be cleared, I was simply irritated that it would take a while. But the lack of respect for my books and papers...that was years of work I wouldn't be able to get back because these people - I refuse to acknowledge them as magician's any longer - could not show the minimum amount of care for these items. Some of them were one a kind! Others were very limited, and were incredibly difficult to obtain.

"Knowledge is power..." I muttered, leaning my head back in my seat, looking up toward the ceiling.

Once again, I had gotten away with a perfect heist. But there was no adrenaline rush. No excitement, no joy, no enthusiasm for this craft anymore. I tossed the jewel about, not a care that it was considered the "most expensive" one. I had heard that title too many times by this point, for all types of jewels.

With a exasperated sigh, I stuffed it into the jewel sack and then stuffed that into my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder as I stated down at the unsuspecting officers. Not once had they ever figured out how I was gaining access to the ever increasingly secured items. Not once were they just in time to catch me in the act. Not once had I left any trace behind. Not once had this proved to be a challenge for me. "I think I'm done. What used to be fun and exhilarating, just isn't anymore. This is too easy," I muttered as I dashed across the roofs, making my way out of this part of the city.

The disappearance of the crown jewel of some nation or other - I didn't bother to remember, they all start to look the same after a while - wasn't discovered until around midday the next day, only after the museum curator had decided to take a random stroll through that particular section. Of course, it was a big deal. But I didn't care. I already had my next target, as well as a plan on how I would be retiring - unlike the movies, where they like go out with a bang by stealing some grandiose thing, I didn't want to do that. I was going simple. A simple painting heist, but this time I'd leave a clue. But not to find me, a clue on how to start looking for the other stolen items I'd..."borrowed" over the years. Some I had sold off, but I still had a good collection of others. Of course, I'd include clues on how to find me eventually, but that would ultimately depend on the detective I planned on letting catch me, see how good he was, even if he was just a rookie.

After a few months of planning, setting things in position, and making sure everything was in order, I sent detective rookie (I didn't bother to find out his name when I chose him) the letter detailing my plans to nab the painting. He didn't disappoint me, thankfully. A perimeter around the building, a constant rolling patrol inside, and circling patrols on the roof and adjacent ones at regular intervals. I was impressed. Still wasn't enough, though. I managed to get the painting and slip out unnoticed. What happened next, now that was interesting.

In less that four hours, they had discovered that it was gone. And I like to assume that it didn't the rookie long to find my clue. He was a smart one, because he found all my clues, found most of the items I had kept, and found me within a month. Faster than I anticipated. I thought it would take him a few months, at least. He's gonna go far. And that brings me here, today, in this maximum security prison.

"Why tell me all this?" My cell mate asked, as he stood there, staring at me.

"No reason," I responded, "I just thought it was a fun story to tell."

"What will you do now?" He asked, leaning against his bunk and crossing his arms.

I simply glanced at him and gave him a wry smile, winking, before I lowered my head so the visor of my officers cap blocked my face, turning on my heel and heading for the cell block exit. "What will I do?" I repeated his question in my mind, "I think I'll go get my stuff back. Maybe see if I can make it harder for detective rookie to find me this time."

It had been going on three months now. Three months! Yet, there he was, quietly sitting in his cubicle, tapping away at his keyboard, making soft grunts every so often. People passed him as they made their way to their own cubicles, casting a quick side eye toward him, but nothing more. What could they say? Nothing, that's what. As odd as it was, Goog was a fine employee. He was prompt in answering calls and responding to email's. Any servicing that he had to get done was quick, never causing any delays in work. That included in-house and client visits. No one had a bad thing to say about him! Well, aside from the fact that he took up nearly the entire elevator - but he was a orc! A six-foot-nine-inch, muscular one. But that would just be nitpicking at this point. He was respectful toward all, was usually early for work, and when he wasn't early, he was literally exactly right on time, and always dressed professionally. It didn't matter how many times they saw it, no one in the department would ever get used to seeing an orc wearing a dress shirt with a tie, and black slacks. Of course, no shoes, but where would one even find shoes for those feet? A few people even entertained the idea that his feet might even be bigger than Shaq's feet!

The first few days were stressful, both for the company and Goog. The company because they hadn't actually intended to hire him, especially when he showed for his interview and they discovered that he was an orc. They wanted to let him go, fearing that an orc would do more harm than good. Actually, no, he would do nothing but harm. So with security basically tailing him each day, on high alert, they waited for his first - and hopefully last - infraction. And they waited. And they waited. By day 73, security had stopped monitoring him, and management had to begrudgingly admit that he was good at his job. Surprisingly.

Goog was stressed, essentially for the same thing. He never actually expected to be hired. On a whim, he decided to apply for the position, and upon showing up for his interview, he could see the dismissal within the interviewers eyes as soon as he walked into the office. Yet, there he was, a company badge clipped to his shirt pocket now. Although surprised, he decided to put forth some effort and show that he was capable. He never noticed that security had been near him all that time.

"This can't be right..."

"I had that same reaction, at first. Therefore, to make sure I wasn't mistaken, I checked three more times, as well as followed up with both clients and other departments. They all said the same thing - he was incredibly friendly, considerate, and concise. Their words, not mine. Not to mention, he was incredibly knowledgeable and was able to solve all issues presented within an acceptable time-frame."

"And his requested support?"

"None."

"Sonofa- you're telling me that our mistake has actually brought us a golden apple?" The CEO asked his hiring manager, looking over the reports of all Goog's calls and IT-related incidents. The manager simply smiled as he turned and headed out of the office.

"Today is his ninety-first day with us. After lunch, I'll be presenting him with a letter offering him a permanent position as our newest member."

As the hiring closed the door behind him, the CEO yelled, "Make sure to increase his pay!"