The room was a bleak contrast to the storm raging outside.

Heavy, intense rain pounded relentlessly against the massive, floor-to-ceiling window at the back of the room, the glass trembling ever-so slightly with each gust of wind.

The window offered no view of the outside world, only a dark, watery blur that added to the ominous tension inside.

The room itself was dimly lit, with the single yellow light in the middle of the ceiling casting long, wavering shadows across the beautifully adorned walls.

The air was heavy with the scent of aged leather and polished wood, mingling with a faint hint of cigar smoke that seemed to linger from a certain gathering.

The floor was covered with a soft carpet that muffled the sound of footsteps; its design barely visible in the subdued light.

A long, mahogany table dominated the centre of the room, its surface lustrous underneath the dull golden glow of the bulb.

Around it, a small…very small group of well-dressed men sat wearing tailored suits and silk ties. Their faces were set in stern expressions as they discussed something between themselves. Their tones felt rushed, as if they couldn't come to a conclusion quickly, they would lose a vital opportunity.

In a stark contrast, opposite to the dressed men, a few men cloaked in trench coats and wearing hoods over their faces stood in a little distance.

The hoods casted deep shadows over their features, adding a subtle layer of mystery and menace.

Small wet prints from their shoes were still present – in the process of evaporating away due to the installed heaters.

"Why isn't he here, yet?"

"He said he had something really important to attend to."

"Fuck. Who does he think he is?!"

"Calm down. You know no one can force them into anything." The composed man calmed him down. "No one. Except them."

"Shit." The one who had his pulse heightened cursed again. "We should come to a decision. We make the majority anyway."

"Credibility will still remain yours, even in the event of... ill fortune, for lack of a more delicate term. Since I have decided to go along with whatever machinations you two plan up."

"I know, I know, damn it!" The man's eyes flicked in the dark as he gestured sharply.

After that, his hands sliced through the air as he barked orders.

Papers rustled and the occasional metallic clink of a pen against the table punctuated the otherwise hushed atmosphere. The scribbling was immediately followed by a loud thud as the two men added some wax to their rings and then punched it on the rectangular piece of paper, adding seal to it.

As they handed it to the man in the forefront – who was wearing a red trench coat – he turned around and read the contents to his fellows.

The hooded figures nodded in silent acknowledgment, feeling slightly excited. However, the man who read it out was sweating. And his hands were trembling. There was a certain sensation of foreboding and horror that gripped his heart like an icy claw.

The merciless pounding of the rain outside seemed to mirror the current situation, an indication towards the brewing storm both outside and within these walls.

As they rose up to their feet, they placed their hands on their chests in tandem and gave the two men a steep bow.

"By the Osiris, we will complete this mission or die trying."

All of them chanted – a bit above a whisper – audibly, but it couldn't drown out the foreboding thunderclap that muffled their chant.

*****************

Eric Olvasen:

The evening was thick with the chill of winter, and the soft sound of wind whistling through the trees outside made the ambiance in my room even more romantic… and erotic than it already was.

The room was a warm refuge from the biting cold outside and the fire crackling in the fireplace added a double layer of warmth between our intertwined, naked bodies.

I looked down at her, my Lila, her dark brown hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo. Her emerald eyes sparkled as her hands travelled all over my face and then at my chest before wrapping her arms and legs around me.

I felt my heart swell with a feeling I had been deprived off for so many years.

Love.

The scent of her lavender lotion mixed with the faint aroma of the burning wood, creating a haze that blanketed my mind and my rationality.

Her skin was soft and warm underneath my fingers, and as I traced the curve of her back, she sighed softly, her breath tickling my ear. I dug my face into her neck and moved my own lower body, causing her to let out small, ragged breaths. Her hand pushed subtly against my shoulder, but I pinned it back, over her head.

I had rarely visited her ever since Arthur and father just…vanished. And during this time of my absence, it had felt like a distance had been created between us.

I loved my family, yes, but I loved her just as much, if not more. She was the only one who had given back the love I had expended.

As if finally getting in a mood, her fingers closed around my hair and taking a fistful of them in both hands, she forcefully pulled me down. Her lips met mine with a wild, animal-like passion and I lost myself in the sensation of her touch, the taste of our kiss.

I held her tiny waist and pushed harder and harder, causing her teeth to sink into my lower lip and her back to arch against mine.

I pulled out, just a little, giving her a few fleeting seconds of respite after her release. Just as I entered again and leaned in to kiss the skin of her neck that was lined with multiple purplish marks, a sudden, insistent vibration shattered the climax that was just…right there.

The sound of Lila's phone buzzing on the nightstand was jarringly out of place in the cosy setting. I paused and my body tensed. Her legs that were around my waist forced them to close, making me move again.

"Ignore it," Lila whispered, her voice husky and her fingers threading through my hair to pull me closer. "It can wait. I have waited too long~"

I moved, slower this time. A bead of sweat rolled down my neck and then between my rhomboids.

"I told you to switch off your phone…" I whispered breathlessly. Breathless not because of the activity we were carrying on but because of the potential possibility of whatever I was thinking.

"Mm~ Forget it. It doesn't matter~"

I pulled out suddenly, the hold of her legs over my waist loosening. My length slipped out of her slick warmth with a soft, plopping sound.

"Hey…"

As I hovered over the nightstand, I saw an unknown number ringing her phone. That is, of course, it was unknown only to her. I knew very well who this number belonged to.

Behind me, Lila pulled the sheets back up, just enough that it hid her peaks but her cleavage was still visible. "A call from a random number is more important than sex?" Her tone wasn't harsh or anything, or maybe it was the anxiety and fear that made everything that came out of her mouth feel much more…tame. "You've been away for days, Eric, and now…this is…" She looked away.

"Lila…I can explain, just…I know who this is."

Her large, beautiful emerald eyes snapped back at me. "This is not about knowing if you know who called on my phone. It's about…dignity. My dignity."

She was right. But the current situation outweighed the measly indulgence of sex. I wasn't calling her measly, no, but the one calling could end it all.

I took a deep, shaky breath, steeling myself. The sound of the rain outside the window seemed to grow louder, matching the pounding of my heart.

I hesitated at first, the phone feeling like a heavy weight in my palm but after a few moments, I pressed the accept button and placed the phone against my ear.

"Hello?" My voice came out steadier than I felt, but the silence on the other end was unnerving.

A smooth, familiar voice finally spoke, sending a sweet yet frigid chill down my spine. "Colour me surprised."

The voice choked out any words I had managed to say.

"Your little girlfriend looks almost too good for someone like you."

My entire body was shaking. I had done my best to suppress any memory of Lila, or anything that could give away her existence.

When was it?

"That's disheartening to hear, mother." I replied, trying to act casual.

"Mother? Why is your mother calling on my phone?"

"Say my hello to her~!"

"What do you want? I am in the middle of something…"

"I said, say my hello to her." Her voice hardened like a blade and I felt like she could kill me even over the phone.

Removing the phone from my ear, I looked at her. "Mom says hello."

Lila looked the other way, fuming as she picked up her bra and started to wear it.

I swallowed hard, and continued to steal glances at Lila. She was looking down and her expression was unreadable, but I could see the annoyance in her jaw, the way her fingers gripped the edge of the sheet.

"What do you want?" I asked again, trying to keep my voice level, but the edge of fear was unmistakable.

"Haha~!" Mom laughed, "Oh sorry, it was just really funny hearing you talk so defiantly to me. For someone so talentless and pathetic, you indeed have a long tongue." The words felt like a dagger into my heart, renting it apart. I knew I didn't have the talent in context to Seven Syndicates and magic…but did I really deserve such treatment?

I understood it after a long while.

That it doesn't matter. My opinion or what I think is fair, doesn't matter. Those without power are nothing more than puppets for those who wield it.

"I am sorry for my tone."

"Mmm~ Whatever. There is something I need you to do. Come over~ Of course, you must know the consequences if you don't comply." The voice was so sweet that you could almost miss the fact that it was devoid of any emotion.

"I understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be there."

The call ended abruptly, leaving a deafening silence. I stood there, phone still in hand.

"And where are you going now? And for what purpose?" Lila asked, sitting in her undergarments now and her tone sharper than ever.

"It's complicated, Lila," I started, trying to keep my voice calm. "It's something I have to deal with immediately. But I will be back in an hour or two at best. I promise."

It was a shallow promise. But I wanted her to buy it. Even though I knew she wouldn't.

"Complicated?" She laughed bitterly. "Everything with you has been complicated lately. You disappear for days, you get mysterious calls, and you can't even stay in bed with me without running off. What's going on, Eric? Did you finally get tired of me?"

I wanted to tell her everything, to just tell her who I was. What family I was associated with. What exactly I am. But… but I couldn't.

Not yet. I couldn't risk her life. The world knew about Arcanum now, yes, but our existence was still a mystery.

"Please trust me, Lila. I'm handling it."

Her eyes flashed with frustration. "Trust you? How can I trust you when you keep shutting me out?"

The pain in her voice cut deep, and I reached out to touch her, but she flinched away. "Lila, I'm doing this for us, for our future. I need you to believe that."

She shook her head, tears welling up in her emerald eyes. "I want to believe you, Eric. I really do. But you're making it so hard. We can't work if you keep doing this. We've been together for 6 long years, and I expected our bond to grow stronger. But it has been the most fragile in the past month."

I felt a lump in my throat as I watched her, knowing I was the cause of her pain. "I promise, I'll explain everything soon. But right now, I have to go."

Lila's jaw tensed. The tears in her eyes welled up, but didn't roll down her cheeks. Pursing her lips once, she looked away and then glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "Get dressed up. I'm taking a bath."

She stood up and clicked the lights on, removing the romantic look of the room. The bright lights felt blinding but my eyes adjusted quickly to them. I looked at her as she walked to the bath. Her stride was as beautiful as ever.

At this moment, I wanted nothing more than to just pick her up and lay with her until she told me she wanted some space. But…having her alive was more important than giving her a momentary peace of mind.

As I wore my shirt, sweater and long-coat, I completed the whole ensemble with the muffler she had knitted for our 5th anniversary.

I hastily made my way towards the exit door but suddenly stopped by the bath where the sound of the tub's tap closing creaked subtly. I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes. The sound of her body slowly sinking into the bath was visible in my mind's eye.

Shakily, I mumbled, ignoring the slight sting in my own eyes.

"I love you, Lila. Please, just hold on a little longer."

Before I could remove my head from there, I heard her mumble. Despite it being a whisper, I could hear it. After all, while I was born with no Arcane Art, I could still use Arcanum.

Her tone was soft now but the hurt was still there. "Just come back to me, Eric. Don't let this…whatever it is, destroy us. The promises we made. Come back before it's too late."

I didn't reply. It wasn't meant for me to hear. She was talking to herself. I focused away from the bath, feeling as if I was intruding into her privacy.

With a heavy heart, I walked out of the room, the small hall and then the main door. The cold air outside hit me like a slap as I stepped outside. Despite it being just evening, it was so pitch black that if it wasn't for the street lights, I wouldn't even be able to see my own hand.

Without Arcanum, of course. If our life was a story in a novel, Arcanum for sure would've been the major plot device for every convenience we enjoy in our limited, sad life.

Sad, in a way that the moment we – or at least the heirs – are born, their hearts are filled with hate, contempt and ways of treachery against the others of the Syndicates. And despite the looming threat of the merger, we are still divided. Instead of joining hands with each other, I am sure everyone is leaning more towards getting in cahoots with other species from Eden.

As I walked, my hand subconsciously went into my pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes.

"Faen. FAEN." I breathed out, cursing. "Jævla kjerring..." The curse that rolled immediately afterwards from my tongue made a shiver run down my spine as I immediately got rid of that thought…memory. I couldn't just let it sit it in the back of my head.

If I wanted to live, that is.

The sky was light dark, softly illuminated by thousands of lights scattered across the city. It was December already, and hence the amount of lighting had increased considerably when compared to the rest of the year due to the approaching Christmas.

The click of my lighter was light and a tiny spark of warmth came to life right afterwards.

The flame flickered bravely against the chilly breeze that had slowed down now, casting a playful shadow against my cupped palm that shielded it from getting snuffed out as I carefully brought the flame to the end of my cigarette.

The tobacco ignited with a subtle crackle, the ember glowing brightly against the ambient light.

The smoke curled upward, mingling with the city's myriad scents—distant car exhausts, the faint aroma of street food, and the crispness of the winter air.

Buildings, all around me, stretched into the night, their windows reflecting the city's life. The click and hiss of passing cars mixed in with the soft crackling of my cigarette as I took a deep drag, feeling the warmth spread through my throat.

Looking upwards, I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dissipate. Slipping one hand into my pocket, I walked in a straight line, along the pavement. Taking my phone out, I opened the app to book a cab and after a few moments it arrived.

Opening the door, I sat in the front seat.

"God kveld." He greeted, "Where to?"

Ah, I forgot to add the destination.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"God kveld." I greeted back as I pulled the seatbelt and locked it into place. "Just drop me at the start of Sandviken."

The man had a little shocked look on his face before nodding. The engine whirred to life and before long we were moving.

Our house – mine and Lila's – was located in Nordnes which is situated south of the city centre of Bergen. It is basically a peninsula surrounded by the sea on three sides, providing waterfront living. I had bought this house since it was quite close to Sandviken, where the Olvasens' main residence was and because after Sandviken, it was the most beautiful.

And affordable.

It might sound strange for me to talk about wealth when my father might be richer than the richest man in the world, but the benefits of that wealth were restricted only to the family head and the heir.

I would've walked to our family house but I don't think I have the ability to do that right after I have been blue balled.

Good grief.

The melancholy still clung to me, and it was only accentuated by the realisation that I was just as sad about not being able to have sex as I was about hurting her. The phrase 'men have their brains between their legs,' might hold some weight after all.

Well. As I was saying, while Nordnes was still expensive, I got the house for cheap. So, it was a win-win.

The reason why the driver had such a reaction to me telling him to take me to Sandviken was because it is almost the richest place one could find to live in Bergen. It had quite a few stunning views that overlooked the fjords—which are long, narrow, deep inlets of the sea between high cliffs typically formed by submergence of a glaciated valley—and harbours.

It's also ideal for mom in particular to live, since it is famous for its quiet surroundings. Since she is known to lose it in presence of excess noise. And the bar for 'excess' in her books is quite low. Obviously, even if I don't know the full details of it, it's surely because of her Arcane Art.

After just a few minutes, we were right by the border, the area where Sandviken started.

However, something felt odd. It wasn't that I couldn't put it into words. I could tell exactly what was wrong. But the words – the notion of that felt too absurd. And as much as it sounded absurd – outlandish even, I came to terms with it just as quickly.

The only ones pushing this possibility into oblivion were gone. It was long due…and we had it coming. But the sheer panic of something else gripped at my heart.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I dialled a number.

The phone rang, a few times. And after a while, it died out. I tried again…and again.

Damn it, Lila, pick up the phone.

I cursed, mentally.

My heel tapped impatiently against the floor of the car as my phone suddenly chimed. Looking down, I saw a text message.

╭─━━━━━━━━━━─╮

Not right mow, I am busy.

╰─━━━━━━━━━━─╯

It was concerning. But at least she replied. Which means Lila was okay.

"Stop the car." I spoke as I let out a soft breath.

"Right here?"

"Right here."

Pulling the lever of the indicator (or turn signal for the yanks) he parked it to the side.

The road was lit with street lights but there were no cars. As expected of the place, it was eerily quiet. Taking out my wallet, I took a few notes out of them and handed it to the man. He looked at them and then at me for a few moments before looking ahead.

Is he expecting me to give him more?

Oh hell no.

Getting out of the car with a plethora of emotions, I waited for the car to drive away. Once it was gone from sight, I slowly started my stride towards the main house. However, instead of going through the main route, I decided to take a shortcut.

There was a place where there were still houses to be constructed. If I ran in the middle of it, then the other side led directly to the edge of Sandviken which overlooked the Fjords.

Putting on the burners, I dashed. The sky was cloudy, and it was bound to rain – or even snow any moment now.

The house was now visible from here. However, there was still some considerable distance given how the rest of the area was a convoluted alleyway after the end of this open field.

Just as I stepped into the alleyway, my senses flared.

Not on reflex, but just a sudden twitch moment made me jerk my head to the side. The all-encompassing sound of gunshot reverberating in the stillness of the evening sky reached my ears a few fractions of a second after the bullet whizzed past my ear.

I stopped as the bullet lodged itself into the wall.

I could feel my eyes go wide. Long shadows extended from the turn right ahead and the squelches of boots in mud reached my ears from the back.

"Damn it. How did he dodge it from his blind spot? I thought we had the element of surprise."

Someone complained while grumbling.

"Hah! Told ya. You lost the bet now. Give me my grand." The other one snickered.

"Damn it! Will do later. Let's get rid of this guy first."

Looking over my shoulder, I took in their forms. They were wearing long red and black trench coats with black masks hiding their faces. Their hoods were pulled over and the leather patchwork over their coats looked…hella cringe. And edgy.

"Didn't know that the new season of Assassin's Creed was being shot in Norway." I spoke without looking back.

I won't say I wasn't scared. These weren't just normal thugs. I could tell that not because of the foreign gun in the man's hand but rather the blistering Arcanum that felt unhealthy against my skin.

One of them let out a light laugh. "Now you know."

My breathing turned shaky. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs.

My palms were clammy, and my fingers twitched with nervousness as Arcanum slowly started to slip out of me.

I was not really trained in efficient use of Arcanum. Hence using it for prolonged periods of time would do more harm than good. But what other choice did I have?

The air around me felt thick, almost suffocating, as the Arcanum's unnatural warmth started to leak out of the assassins? as well and started to seep through the alleyway.

I forced myself to take another deep breath, trying to calm the storm of conflicted emotions inside me.

Glancing around quickly, I counted the figures in the progressively dimming light. Two were directly behind me, their stances relaxed.

Their eyes were barely visible through the slits in their masks but I could see the glint of cold intent in them. I shifted my gaze to the alleyway ahead. Two more joined, and there were now four in front of me.

They were spread out, blocking any chance of escape.

Six in total. My odds were grim. Speaking in pure quantity, I have never taken on this many at once but…

The image of my little brother flashed into my mind, causing me to smile.

I had faced worse before. Much, much worse.

I couldn't let fear paralyse me. Not now. Not here. I had to act, and fast.

I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar surge of arcanum coursing through my veins. My muscles tensed, and the wind whispered slightly into my ear.

As I visualised my first move and was about to pivot and launch my attack, a sudden movement caught my eye.

Something ignited. Arcanum, I noticed. And then the spark of Arcanum morphed into something sharp- with a cutting edge. Like a blade.

I had merely blinked and the next moment a fist came hurtling towards my face, fast and precise.

Time seemed to slow down as I watched it close in, mere inches from my nose.

I barely had time to react.

Getting rid of the mumbo-jumbo thoughts, I immediately lowered and ducked, feeling the violent gust of air as the punch narrowly missed my head. I could almost feel the biting cold of the Arcanum-infused fist as it passed by, leaving a faint trail of crackling energy in its path.

Regaining my balance, I twisted my body to face him.

"Nice reflexes," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.

I didn't bother responding. Words were useless now. I had to rely on action. The other figure behind me shifted, preparing for an attack of his own. I was surrounded, but I couldn't afford to be overwhelmed.

I noted the person who had attacked me, segregating his little features from the rest.

He can use elemental Wind.

I took a mental note.

I lunged forward, aiming a punch at the one that had attacked me.

He moved in to block, but I anticipated his defence and pivoted on my heel, driving my elbow into his ribs. He grunted in pain, stumbling back a step. I didn't have time to relish the small victory.

"Captain said not to underestimate him as well." One of the assassins that were standing in the alleyway raised his voice. "He's an Olvasen, after all."

My tone turned sharp. "You know who I am. Do you not understand the ramifications of whatever you are doing?" I hissed, trying to intimidate them. Or stall them. Stall until I could find some suitable method to get out of here alive.

I am not like Arthur. I do not enjoy fights with people stronger than me.

And that is because I am neither confident nor strong enough to guarantee my survival even against a stronger opponent. At least not in a head-on fight.

"Who is going to do anything?" The one that had raised his voice, spoke again, full of ridicule. "Your daddy? Your little brother?" He scoffed, condescendingly. "They are dead. No one is coming to your rescue, boy."

I could feel losing my grip on my temper, but I shrugged it off. I was on a countdown. Losing my head was only going to hasten it.

Syphoning as much Arcanum as I could in a split second, I coated my fist with it and then punched the ground below. Cracks frenzied from the point of impact and then dust rose up.

Charging like a mad bull, I tackled the one who was talking to me a few seconds ago and crashed his body into the wall of the house that was on the right side of the opening of the alley.

He tried to get rid of the hold I had on his waist by plunging his elbow into my back, but I took a step back immediately.

But he was the first to recover.

Both of his hands clasped around my neck as I was suddenly pinned against the wall.

Desperation surged through me as I tried to grapple with the assassin, his breath hot and foul against my face. His icy cold grip tightened around my throat. I could feel my windpipe teetering close to the point of getting crushed as I saw the cold malice tinged with a sadistic pleasure in his eyes, barely visible beneath the edge of his mask.

My vision started to blur, dark spots dancing at the edges.

Desperation and wild instincts kicked in as I kicked his nut-sack and then hugged him, sinking my teeth into his ear.

The taste of sweat and blood filled my mouth as I bit down harder, the coppery tang causing bile to rise up.

He screamed, and flailed his arms about but I didn't let go. My teeth grounded against the cartilage, feeling it tear and give way under the pressure.

His blood gushed into my mouth, warm and sickening, as I ripped his ear free with one decisive yank.

He staggered back, clutching the side of his head, blood streaming through his fingers. The detached ear dropped from my mouth to the ground with a wet thud.

I spat the remaining mangled flesh out.

Arcanum started to concentrate and a small tornado started to whisk away the veil of dust that had concealed us. Finding this the right moment, I left the man behind and started to run away.

The alleyway was a narrow stretch of shadow between the high, empty houses of this part of Sandviken, dimly lit by the streetlights on the other side.

My heavy breaths fogged in the chill as I ran. Ran without looking back.

The wall to my right exploded outwards, throwing huge amounts of bricks in my direction.

Panic rushed and I immediately brought my arms upwards.

However, a green light signified something else.

Instead of bringing my arms upwards, I suddenly dropped down and hugged my knees, avoiding the barrage of blades of wind that shot towards me, concealed behind the incoming bricks.

No sooner had I dodged, someone landed by my side, his hand glowing with a pale blue light. Water coalesced around his fist, forming into a jagged shard of ice that he hurled at me.

I rolled to the side, the ice shard shattering against the collapsed mess of the brick wall and solid ground with a sharp crack.

Springing to my feet, I closed the distance between us, aiming a punch at his jaw. It connected and he staggered back, but his partner was already moving, conjuring a whirlwind that wrapped around my legs and lifted me off the ground.

Gritting my teeth, I fought against the pull of the wind by imbuing my body with Arcanum, struggling to stay grounded.

I lashed out with a kick, catching the wind mage in the chest. He grunted and stumbled but the damage I was dealing was like using a +1 katana against a comet azure spammer.

Fuck you, Eric. It's not the time to make game references!

Another mage stepped in, launching a torrent of water that struck me full in the chest, knocking me back into the opposite wall.

I hit the brick wall hard and was then sent flying through it, breaking the water pipes in the process. The cold water poured down at me leaving me gasping for breath as it soaked through my clothes.

The taste of blood filled my mouth, and I struggled to focus. I had barely moved when a kick caused me to gasp and I was yet again thrown through the walls and into another house. Thankfully, this was an empty one as well. But I knew it…I knew that I couldn't get this lucky over and over again.

There was no time to recover. One of them was already upon me, swirling wind circling his whole arm. He swung at me as I raised to my knees and barely blocked it. The force made the bones in my arms rattle and shred the fabric first and then rent the upper layer of my skin.

Arcanum slipped by itself, trying to protect me from the assault.

But I had him where I wanted.

While igniting elemental magic, there was a spark. Like fire needing the basic three conditions to initiate with a spark and then morph into a full-blown fire. It was the same for other elemental magic as well. Be it water, wind, earth or ice.

As I observed his other companions watching the fight in an amusing way from a distance, I focused on the one in front of me.

As his spark got snuffed out and was about to reinitiate, I retaliated with a barrage of punches, each one connecting with his ribs and face.

He reeled, but the others were closing in. I spun around, just in time to see another mage forming a sphere of water above his head. With a shout, he sent it hurtling towards me.

I ducked, the sphere smashing into the wall where my head had been moments before, water spraying everywhere.

Using it as a good moment, I jabbed with all my strength into the wind mage's throat. He threw up blood and spat all over my face, but such trivial things hardly mattered. As he fell to his knees, I broke through the window and started running again.

Panting, I glanced around. Two behind, two circling to cut me right ahead.

They were coordinating their attacks, trying to wear me down. I had an advantage in pure Arcanum amount, but crude Arcanum was in its weakest form. It was like throwing bullets via hand or a slingshot versus someone with an AK-47 or a M16.

I couldn't let them outdo me.

I had so much planned, damn it!

With a roar, I came to a sudden halt and then charged at the nearest one, tackling him into the wall and breaking it in the process. Screams erupted as this time we had broken into a house with a lot of people.

We rolled on the floor, grappling for control.

He tried to summon water, but I pinned his arms, driving my knee into his stomach. He coughed and gasped, but his comrades were already on me.

A booted foot connected with my side, and I cried out in pain, rolling off him and breaking through the wall across the house and then crashing out of the other rear end of the house.

I scrambled to my feet, but a blast of wind caught me, sending me sprawling. I hit the ground hard, again, and this time my vision blurred.

Pain coursed throughout my body, and I could feel the cold tendrils of fear tightening around my heart. Not just fear, but my lack of control over Arcanum was causing it to slip out unnecessarily, stripping away the comforting warmth of the magic fuel.

Not yet.

I forced myself to stand, swaying on my feet.

The mages surrounded me, their eyes glinting with cruel amusement. They thought they had me. Maybe they did after all.

"Do yourself a favour and die. Do you really want us to beat you to death like a dog?" The one in the lead spoke. There were only 3 of them now.

The one I had kicked in the ribs was still incapacitated.

"I am an Olvasen. Do you really think—"

"Bahaha." The man broke out in laughter. He laughed, for quite a long time. And when he stopped, he looked at me like I was some trash. "You are the worst of what the 'oh-so mighty' Olvasens have to offer. I don't even know what the deal with you is, haha."

Condescension. It was a weapon that only a few could wield masterfully. And while the words stung, they were certainly not enough to make me lower my guard.

A sudden jolt of pain invaded my head as something…resurfaced. Like a memory. Buried deep beneath layers of dirt. Dirt and…arcanum. An Arcane Art.

I couldn't tell. What was it?

It was like having a fever dream. I could feel someone…not short but not tall right beside me. Her words were soft, lovely…so, so sweet.

'Remember. A wolf's biggest strength isn't its fangs, or speed, or its power. No. It's the pack. Break it. Give its pack the mental and physical torment. And the wolf would eventually break…'

The words were cruel, but the tone was so sincere that it didn't feel bad.

Who was this? Who was talking? I have never heard such a voice. Nor this presence.

The splitting headache was accentuated further as a fist collided into my chin and I was lifted a few feet above the ground. As I landed a yard away from them, my senses circled, like I was trapped in a washing machine.

And then I was running towards them.

Break the pack.

That's what the voice said. I am not sure what this whole thing is, but it was right. Eerily right.

I lunged at the nearest assassin, feinting to the left before driving my fist into his gut. He doubled over, and I followed up with a knee to his face, sending him crashing to the ground. Another one lashed out with a blade of wind, slicing through the air where I had been a moment before. I dodged and countered with a kick to his knee, hearing a satisfying crack as he fell.

I noticed something. Their coordination was what made them dangerous. Individually, even someone like me was able to slowly whittle them down.

A torrent of water struck me from behind, knocking me to my knees.

I gasped for breath, feeling the cold seep into my bones.

Before I could recover, a whirlwind wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground and slamming me into the road.

The impact drove the air from my lungs, and I crumpled to the ground, barely able to move.

Even though I know what to do… I can't do anything in the end.

She…mom was right. I was pathetic. As a son, as a member of the Olvasen. As a boyfriend.

Through the haze of pain, I saw them closing in, their faces hidden but their intent clear.

They were going to finish this. I struggled to rise, but my body wouldn't obey. I could feel the darkness closing in, the edges of my vision going black.

Just as one of them raised his hand, a sphere of wind forming in his palm, a figure seemed to blur.

A leg, I noticed, caught on blistering crimson flames clubbed down with a speed that was almost impossible to follow. And the following moment, the man's body was cleaved into half, each side burning. The long coat started to melt instantaneously, sticking to his skin and making the man cry so loud that it might've reverberated throughout Bergen.

They paused, turning towards the newcomer.

I blinked, trying to clear my vision. A figure stood at the mouth of the alley, silhouetted against the dim light. It was a short man with cropped black hair and almond shaped black eyes.

Jack, I noticed. Arthur's Taekwondo's instructor.

"Are you okay, young--" Before he could talk, blades of wind, balls of water and shards of ice arched upwards and then fell down on him like a fish net.

All of the spells collided and a mushroom of smoke raised upwards.

For a while they totally disregarded me and kept their eyes on the impact point where the spells had collided.

Jack's hair fluttered for a single, fleeting moment as he stepped forward, and I saw a flash of metal. The object suddenly got caught on flames and flashed, and then one of the mages cried out, clutching his arm as blood spurted from the deep gash.

I took the opportunity to push myself up, using the wall for support. My vision was still blurry, but I could make out their battle, his weapon weaving a deadly pattern through the air.

Even his arms and legs were on fire now, as the smouldering flames burned the air, vapourised the water and melted the ice.

As they were fighting, I saw the one that I had tackled into a house of people and kicked in the ribs, slowly sneaking in on Jack.

He took out the gun from his back and aimed it at Jack who was engaged in a close quarters spellcasting fight.

He can't protect himself from his blind spot.

In the chaos, I staggered forward, desperation gnawing at me.

I didn't know him too well. But I couldn't let someone like him die. Someone who was risking his life for me.

The pistol glinted under the bent streetlight as he aimed at Jack.

My heart pounded in my chest, time seeming to slow down. There was no room for hesitation. With a burst of arcanum and adrenaline, I lunged forward like a missile, tackling him to the wall, once again.

We rolled and hit the pavement hard, the impact jolting my bones, but I didn't let go.

He started to club the gun's metal surface on my back. Each strike felt like it was cracking my bones. A thin layer of Arcanum covered me as I managed to wrest the gun away from his grasp, tossing it aside.

My hands flailed wildly to the side as my fingers touched something long and hard. I grabbed it – a metal bar from the rubble we were wrestling on.

Before he could react, I positioned myself behind him and then pressed the bar against his neck, using all my strength to pin him down. My own back pressed hard against the back of the wall that had spiky metal jutting out of it.

His eyes bulged with panic, and his hands clawed at the bar, struggling for breath.

Jack was holding well against the last 2. One of them had a hacked-off arm and the other's face was half burnt while Jack himself had little to no injury.

I was pinning the assassin down when suddenly a cold splash of water hit me.

A summoned water bubble encased my head like a deep-sea diving helmet.

I gasped for air, but only water filled my lungs. The sensation of drowning was immediate and terrifying. Very terrifying. My vision blurred for…hundredth time today, as I fought against the urge to breathe.

My hands tightened around the bar, my mind getting torn by a whirlwind of conflict.

I didn't want to kill this man.

I had tortured countless spies before, yes, as part of the "mighty" Olvasens because that was all I was capable of.

Capable of breaking prisoners.

But I had never taken a life. The thought of crossing that line, of becoming a killer, made my stomach churn.

But the water, the suffocating, drowning water, thinned the array of choices I could make.

My grip tightened further, my muscles screaming in protest.

I let out a gurgling roar as more water rushed through like water infiltrating a broken hull and the mage's struggles weakened, his hastened breaths turning into desperate gasps. I pulled harder, every fibre of my being fighting against the rising panic in my chest.

Then, with a rather muted and less dramatic snap, his neck gave way and my body jerked backwards, the spiky metal stabbing through my coat, shirt and skin alike, followed by the warm sensation of blood flowing out.

The water bubble vanished instantly, leaving me gasping for air and my lungs burning.

I let go of him and his limp body subtly leaned to the side as the metal bar slipped away from my hands.

As the survival instincts washed away and rationality returned, I felt the weight of what I had just done.

And boy did the realisation of it struck me like Sekiro Deathblow.

An intangible river of blood started to run between my fingers.

I had always known where my line was drawn. Torture, they said…as I was told, was an art.

An art I mastered to please her…to see that glint of approval in my mother's eyes, to feel like I belonged in her world.

But now, existing in this current moment…reality, I can't help but wonder if I've been fooling myself all along.

I killed to save Jack. But that justification just feels hollow. The dying gasps of that assassin were fresh in my mind, blurring the line I swore I'd never cross. Torture was my compromise, my twisted way of fitting in, of proving my worth.

But this was the ironclad truth now, despite how painful it was.

I had become what I despised the most…feared the most.

A murderer.

I was…no, I am a hypocrite. Always have been.

What kind of person finds solace in causing suffering? And now, what kind of person finds justification in killing, even for a "noble" cause?

I've seen the faces of people I have tortured, the fear and agony I've inflicted, and told myself it was for a greater good, for recognition, for love.

But love shouldn't demand such cruelty, should it?

I understood it when I found Lila. The love of my life.

I had double vowed for her…for our future's sake, to never cross this line. Even it meant disregarding mom's approval.

And now that my hands are irrevocably tainted, I can't ignore this growing doubt.

Is it really enough to stop short of killing?

Does that make me any better than those who do? Or have I merely found a different kind of darkness to lose myself in?

The reflection staring back at me was not the hero I wanted to be since I was a little child, not the person Lila would truly be proud of.

My mother might wave this off as "It was just one life." but it is very different for me.

After all this, can I even find a way back to the light, or have I drifted too far into the shadows to ever return.

But I can't even let this drag me down as well. I had to live with it. Not forgive myself, but live with it. For Lila's sake, for our future, I have to try.

I don't need forgiveness. Just a continued reminder of what I have done.

That would do it.

Those words and Jack's desperate calls were the last thing I heard as darkness claimed me, and I fell into the realm of unconsciousness, guilt and deep regret being the sole company that subconsciously accompanied me.