Seren checked their binder and looked up at the street signs. The Autumn district was so noisy in the last minute bustle before Yule. Every post and window was increasingly annoying in their decorations. Flashing lights, obnoxious jingling bells, conflicting music played on every street corner. It was all too much.

Looking back and forth, Seren found the surprisingly residential building where their next job lived. Knocking on the door they found the occupant refreshingly cooperative. It seemed the day was picking up. As the next three were also only mildly uncooperative. A little fussing, excuses, but they'd hand over their due with minimal grouching.

But just when Seren felt like they were finally getting ahead, the sun started to set. Seren read over their binder, everything but the tinker was accounted for. Their heart thudded as they turned to run back, but an epiphany came to them. Would going home now just cause them to be lectured and then sent back out again? Would they just be wasting time?

Seren slid in the snow as they suddenly changed directions. Heading back to the Spring district. Ducking through the dwindling crowds in the Autumn district and around the center of the city. The Spring district was quieting down for the night. Displays and stalls were collapsed and put away for the night, goods brought back under lock and key. Seren slid to a stop, before the tinker’s shop was the tinker. Putting away his things, while watching the roads wildly. Seren reminded themself not to be given the runaround this time and marched up to the tinker’s display.

The tinker saw them coming and froze. They stood up stiltedly.

“Ah! There you are, I thought you wouldn’t be back.” They called to Seren, their voice cracking as they called out. For a second Seren believed it. Maybe Seren needed to wait a little longer.

“So you have it ready to hand to me?” Seren asked,

“I left it inside,” The tinker said, backing up toward the front door. Seren watched for a second before their senses caught up with them.

“Well I’ll follow you.” Seren said, advancing after the tinkerer.

“Good! Good. Yes. Good.” The tinker said nervously. Laughing like an anxious sheep as they opened the door to the shop and held it open. “Please, please do come in.” Seren stopped on the doorstep. Feeling put off by the tinker’s near hysterical reaction. They stared into the barely lit hallway while the tinker stood in the middle of it.

“What’s wrong?” Seren asked warily. Watching the tinker’s eyes dart to the door and back.

“Nothing!” The tinker yelled hastily. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll just grab that for you?” Seren slipped their hands into their pockets and felt the rings. Sliding them onto their fingers for a boost of bravery as they entered the door.

The tinker bolted into the house, Seren lunged forward to give chase but the door forcefully slamming behind them. They spun on the wood floor to see an older teen holding the door shut.

“Puny little witch,” he said in slight annoyance. Standing at his full height, he towered over Seren and their heart ran full speed into their throat. He cracked his knuckles and launched a fist at them. Seren dropped to the ground to avoid it, panicking as they gripped the caestus rings tight and landed a solid thud on the side of his knee.

The teen roared and dropped down on one knee. Eye level with Seren he glared but the anger melted as he looked into the wonder in Seren’s face.

It had been so solid. So instant. Seren’s breathing shallowed. They sat back on their knees and drew back again. The boy only had time to throw his arms in front of his face before another solid thud hit him square on his forearm.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Shockwaves traveled up their arm and trembled in their shoulder socket. Another thud and the boy fell back, Seren leaned forward and used both hands to continue the assault. Bones cracked, blood flew. Painting the walls and splattering across Seren’s face. It was so warm against their burning face. No rage colored their emotions, nothing but the strange fascination of the sensations caused by using so much force.

Something slick brushed Seren’s fingers and they recoiled in disgust. Their hands were covered in blood and something gooey. They threw off the rings to rub their hands off on their pants impulsively as bile crept up the back of their throat.

Seren shuddered as they continued rubbing their hands on their pants until the friction burned their fingers. While trying to rub the slick off their fingers they stared blankly at the boy on the ground. His face was nearly untouched, a few spots of blooming black and blue bruising creeping across the side of his face and blood smeared around his mouth and chin. He still breathed, albeit raggedly and he made an uncomfortable bubbling sound. Seren felt something pounding very loudly in the back of their head. Something unrecognizable but all encompassing.

They turned and spotted the tinker, standing frozen in pale fear.

“Any more surprises?” Seren asked, shoving whatever the feeling was to the back of their mind.

“No! No more! Here” the tinker threw a bag that jinkled with ingts to Seren’s feet.

“Thank you,” Seren said, picking it up and sliding it into their side bag. “If there is a next time, I want to see the same speed.”

“You will! You will! Please, please leave!” the tinker’s voice was shaking, cracking. Seren looked again at the teen.

“I’ll alert the authorities.” They said, meaning for it to be a comfort.

“No! I did what you asked!” The tinker yelled, when Seren looked back over their shoulder he recoiled back. “Just go. Please just go.” Seren felt that loudness in their head again, they left the tinker’s house. Mindlessly wiping their hands on their pants. It wasn’t just a feeling of being in the wrong. That Seren knew. This was much bigger, much louder.

The sun had gone down and the night hid the blood stained into their new clothes. The streets were empty as Seren wandered down them in a trance, avoiding the street lights. It felt like walking through a dream. Swimming along behind their body.

Upon the steps of the Asche manor, they stepped into the porchlight. They put their hand on the door handle and the light reflected the thick blood and bruising over their hands. It hit them all at once.

Seren threw open the door and bolted into the bathroom. Barely making it to the toilet before their lunch came spewing out. Outside the slammed bathroom door they heard the rection to the commotion they made. Mrs. Houper was the first on the scene.

“Seren, you have to shut… the…” her voice trailed off.

“Who’s slamming doors?!” Mr. Asche came down the stairs above Seren’s head as they heaved again. The steps stopped suddenly.

“Serenity?!” He called as the normally heavy steps got louder. Not bothering to knock on the bathroom door, instead throwing it open with a crash that felt like a stab right through Seren’s already pounding ears. He dropped to their side and began gingerly patting at the worst of the bloody places.

“Where are you injured?” He asked, Seren could only shake their head. He was yelling, yelling at them, at Mrs. Houper. The pounding in Seren’s head got louder and they covered their ears as their stomach flipped again. Their nose tingled. There was a hole in the back of their throat and every swallow made their stomach creep a little farther up. Seren clenched their jaw their hands over their ears and eyes shut tight. It didn't stop the noise or the brightness or the feeling of their twisting stomach.

Mr. Asche grabbed Seren’s arm to move them and Seren reacted. Swinging their other arm around. In a single move, Mr. Asche slapped their hand away and snatched Seren’s jaw and brought their face up to look him in the eye. Everything in their head stopped. Froze solid.

“You will never raise your hands to me.” He said, his voice sliced through the air like a knife. “Do you understand?” Seren nodded fearfully. Mr. Asche released their face and dropped onto their hands. The silence in their head now replaced with exhaustion.

“Are you getting tired?” He asked urgently. Seren nodded mutely. “I’m taking you to the emergency room. Don’t fall asleep!” Seren’s head felt heavy and they were weaving back and forth.

“I’ve got the coach ready and a blanket, here.” Mrs. Houper said, appearing at the doorway with a large dark colored comforter draped in her arms. Mr. Asche snatched the comforter and wrapped Seren up in it tightly before picking them up and charging out.