Young Writers Society

Hi again! I like this start to the new chapter and look forward to finding out how it ties in with the rest of the story- both the thief and Ecchi sound like good characters and I think you have introduced them well Here I have taken a different way of critiquing this piece, my comments are made in bold in brackets and any changes I have made also done in bold or striked out. They are all just suggestions though so ignore them if you like!

He had been looking at the house for days now, checking when the owner went out or [s]to sleep[/s] slept. The owner hardly left the house, and the lights were on almost all the time, but the thief had found a time when even this owner went to sleep. (I'm not sure about ending on sleep again, and he doesn't know that she is going to sleep just because the lights are out- maybe ending the sentence with something about the house becoming quiet and dark would be better?)
The owner of the house was a woman who moved with slender grace, and had dark, almost black, brown hair that would reach all the way to her waist, but she always tied it up in a ponytail before she left the house. The thief had also noticed that the owner spoke to herself a lot, but the most important[s]ly[/s] observation he had made was that she wore expensive clothing. (I've changed it a bit to how I think it would make more sense but like the rest of my comments, it's just a suggestion )

The thief jumped, as silently as he could, from the roof to the unfurnished balcony. One reason why the thief had chosen this house was because it was built from mahogany and oak, this was a clear sign of [s]riches[/s] (prosperity or wealth might be better here). Every day he would loiter around the small house in the heart of the capital and gather information.
He crouched in front of the balcony door and took out his lock pick. He carefully placed the pick inside of the doors (I'd add this here as you haven't mentioned a lock before) lock and started his delicate work. After a few moments of fiddling (I'd maybe add something like this to show that time has passed) There was a clinging sound and the thief grunted in approval; he turned the handle and opened the door stealthily.
He entered into the room[s],[/s]. [s]it looked like a study.[/s] (If the room is pitch black how does he know that the room is a study? I'd maybe leave that part out until you describe the room later on.) [s]The room[/s] It was pitch black, the only source of light [s]being the[/s] coming from the ajar (something like this otherwise it sounds like the light is actually from the door) door that the thief had just opened. He stayed put until [s]his eyes[/s] he became (so you are not repeating about his eyes) accustomed to the lighting of the room before he let his eyes sweep the room in order to find any hidden traps. There was another door by the thieves left-hand-side that led to a small hall where there was a staircase; on the thieves right-hand-side was a large mirror, and by the wall ahead of him was a study table, with cupboards… and with silver lining.
The thief looked down at the floor; it was covered by a wall-to-wall carpet that had what seemed like an octahedron on it. The octahedron was surrounded by sigil markings made with chalk [s]onto the carpet[/s].
So she’s a mage, thought the thief. That explains many things. Like why she hardly leaves the house. She’s probably conducting experiments all day long. (I wouldn't really think of a witch conducting experiments- maybe conjuring spirits or practising spells?)

He put his hand under his dark brown cowl, which had stripes of grey here and there to provide an excellent camouflage in the dark. He pulled out a rock[s]; he[/s] and flung it onto the carpet. Nothing happened. He stared at the rock, concentrating while counting to twenty (is he doing this out loud or in his head? I'd mention that here.). After twenty seconds nothing happened.
That’s odd; I thought it would at least blow up.
He reluctantly placed his foot onto the carpet, [s]and[/s] clos[s]ed[/s]ing his eyes in fear. (Phrased like this it sounds more like it is happening at the same time )
Nothing. He let out a breath of relief.
A mage without a security spell. That’s a new one.
He turned to his right and started moving stealthily towards the large mirror, while trying to avoid getting in the mirrors line of sight. When he got to the mirror he found a blanket attached to it. He knew there would be a blanket. There always was. (If he knew there would be a blanket why would he be trying to stay out of the mirrors line of sight?)
Although it was well known that mages could use mirrors to watch [s]at[/s] others, [s]which was why all magic users had a mirror of their own[/s] (Most people have mirrors so I'm not sure about this part, it might be better to leave it out.); it wasn’t as well known that mages could not stop others from watching them, therefore they always had something to cover their mirrors. Usually a blanket, [s]like[/s] which was the case right now.
After the burglar was done (done with what? You haven't said what he was doing yet.)he turned to his left. He slowly and silently [s]crouched[/s] crept to the study table, took out a small knife and placed it in a small crack between the silver lining and the wood. With a small grunt of effort as he twisted the knife, the first lining snapped off the table and fell, followed by a slight thump as it patted the rug. The thief snatched it up and put it in a large pouch under his cowl. He [s]did[/s] repeated the same procedure to [s]all[/s] the other three silver linings too. He then returned [s]in[/s] to the front of the study table, and tried to pull open the cupboard door. The cupboard wouldn’t budge.
Of course! he thought. There must be something important… Valuable inside. He corrected himself.
He took out his lock pick and put it in [s]a[/s] the small keyhole of the door. The lock pick broke.
He lifted the broken device. It had been cut in half.
Magical lock?
He tried again, and this time the pick turned into dust.
There is always something between me and my treasure, he sighed.
Yet again he pulled something out of his hood, that cowl had become quite famous in some circles. It was said to be able to hold massive amounts of items in it, [s]this[/s] which was probably true but the thief, by his own words, “hadn’t really ever had the time to try it out yet”.
He had taken out a slender and smooth stone the glowed blue in the dark. He placed it on the lock and started chanting in a low voice.
“Pesti sisto absent etree miza,” he repeated the chant [s]thrice[/s] three times (thrice sounded a bit strange here to me).
It was a small dispel chant, and it wasn’t long before the spell from the lock was sucked into the stone. (What does this look like? I think it would be better here to describe to the reader how he knows the spell has gone.)
He smiled, though the spell had taken [s]a[/s] it's toll on him and he was breathing [s]more[/s] heavily. He was no spell caster.
He heard a knock from below him, about where the main entrance to the small house was supposed to be. He froze. There was [s]a[/s] the sound of a door opening from a room next to [s]this[/s] where he was. He was careful not to breathe too loud. There were footsteps as the owner of the house hurried downstairs. When the steps had [s]ended at[/s] reached the bottom of the staircase the thief hastily took out another pick and opened the lock. He found a small box inside… made out of gold.
I think [s]a[/s] I found the gold vein! he was jumping up and down in his mind.
He heard footsteps and chattering (I'm not sure about chattering here, I would think it would more be the murmur of talking or something like that) coming back upstairs. He quickly snatched the jewelry box, and turned back to the open balcony door. That was when everything went wrong. He tripped on something and landed, a short, but soundly (I don't know if soundly sounds right here, perhaps something like painful?) distance to the floor. The chattering stopped. The thief panicked and looked at what he had tripped on. (It doesn't sound very panicky to look at what he has tripped on, I'd add more fear here- perhaps he twists round or struggles to sit up or something like that.)
He was facing a human skull. His eyes widened.
This is no normal mage! This is a-, his thoughts were interrupted when the door to the staircase opened. His eyes widened even more.
Throughout his life as a burglar-thief he had been [s]pointed at[/s] faced with swords, arrows, pointed fingers and shouts when he had been caught [s]on[/s] in the act… But this was the first time that he had been faced by a half naked woman, [s]who was[/s] stretching and yawning.
He just [s]lied[/s] lay on the ground paralyzed as he watched the owner of the house stretch. She didn’t have anything else on but a loincloth; her breasts were covered by her hair. She was young but had a kind of mature feel to her, (I'm not sure about feel- perhaps something like aura or presence?) and she had [s]a[/s] slightly tanned skin, that didn’t sync with the fact that she was always inside.
She stopped stretching and fixed her eyes on him.
“My, my, what do we have here?” She walked over to him.
The thief closed his eyes in fear and panic. [s]And[/s] He was shocked when the witch kissed him.
He felt her lips go through (Through? Either that is one strange kiss or you mean something like along. If you do mean along then I'd change 'go' to something like 'brush' too ) his throat up to his ear where he felt a nudge, and then to his cheeks from where they finally found his mouth. He could feel her tongue inside his mouth and couldn’t help but [s]to[/s] kiss back. This continued for a moment and then the witch took a step back and wiped her mouth after licking her lips. The thief tried to rise up, but he felt like all the life had been drained out of him. A man in a messenger outfit entered the room with a candle, which cast an eerie light across the dim room.
“Who’s that? One of your new toys?” the messenger asked with a distasteful look on his face. (How is it distasteful? I'd describe his expression a bit to the reader here.)
The witch smiled at the man. “No this is the thief that has been looking at my house for the past month.”
The messenger snorted. “You let him get in?”
“Of course,” laughed the witch. Her voice was rich and high, almost melodic.
The messenger stopped smiling “jokes aside ´witch`, will you be coming?” he asked.
“Hmm,” the witch looked thoughtful, “What if I send someone in my stead?”
The messenger wasn’t pleased. “I didn’t even want to come here to ask you to come; I really don’t understand why the army would need a dark magician, much less a woman… and even less ´you`.”
The witch looked hurt. “Oriel you make it sound as if you don’t like me,” she said.
“As a matter of fact, I do not. And who would you even send [s]as[/s] in your stead?”
She pointed at the thief. “Him,” she said plainly.
“What curse have you put on him?”
The thief was terrified - what had he gotten into this time?
“He does the task given, or dies. If he fails he tries another task, or else he dies.”
“Ah, the do-or-die-curse. What if he succeeds all the tasks given to him?” asked Oriel.
The witch took hold of the thief and lifted him up; she pushed against his side with her breasts. The thief could feel himself blushing, and started to mentally punish himself about it immediately. (Why? Because he doesn't want to appear weak? If so I'd mention that here.)
“He gets to come back to me?” answered the witch.
“Ecchi, [s]did[/s] you know you sicken me,” Oriel said.
Ecchi giggled.