The van came to a screeching halt as we arrived at our destination. We were now on the other side of Toronto, but it felt more like we’d traveled to a new planet. Gone were the pothole-ridden streets and the rundown strip malls that lined them; gone were the camps of tents and stumbling drunks chasing their fading numbness. In their place were well-paved roads and shiny skyscrapers that climbed so high they poked through the blanket of gray clouds above us. The sidewalks were choked with droves of well-kempt people, each of whom walked with purpose: a privilege they didn’t even understand to be one.

The building we stopped in front of looked just like every other in the downtown complex: rectangular and lined with glass panels. But it held a secret that made it different from most others. Within the walls of one specific floor sat nestled the offices of the Fight House Dons: the people who ran the many clubs the Fight House owned around the town. Each Don was the highest authority of their designated club, but there was a hierarchy within their ranks as well. Some of them ran the slummy ones like the one I’d chosen, while the more important ones ran more luxury clubs for the elite circles of the city. But regardless of their relative positions, they all inhabited that singular floor. And that floor was where I was headed.

I got out of the van without giving a word of thanks to the grubby driver, but he hadn’t been expecting one. My dislike for him had been understood since the day we met, and it was mutual. He was an older man, with a suave tongue that he put to use recruiting people for the Fight House. In practice, that usually meant tricking desperate people into unfavorable contracts with the Don he worked for. In fact, he had been the person to introduce me to the idea of fighting for his don at the club; and the fact that the contract had turned out to be quite the unexpected windfall for me didn’t mean I appreciated the man’s predatory occupation.

The van sped off behind me as I made my way in through the revolving doors at the entrance, stepping into the artificially cooled lobby. I had an appointment with the Don of my club today, since today was the day I had finally completed my two months of fighting. The excitement of my pending reward sparked in me as I made my way through the floors of the building, searching for a specific room. Lively thoughts swirled in my head as I contemplated the next phases of my plan, the prospect of the money I’d soon make putting a spring in my step.

Eventually, I came across the room number I was looking for – room 247 – and rapped impatiently on the wooden door thrice. I waited a moment, but I heard no response, no footsteps of someone coming to get the door.

I knew the man had heard me, and I knew what he was doing. It was a tactic to throw his visitor off, a small and subtle mind trick that did wonders for his negotiations. It put him in control right off the bat, which made it all the more easier for him to work his sly tongue and trap his guests. It should have been my first clue of what was to come, but I was too excited at the time to think of anything beyond my prize.

I’d always thought his little tactic was annoying, and I was having none of it today. Instead of giving in and knocking again like usual, I lifted up my foot and kicked out hard at the doorknob. The blow threw the door open with a crack, sending the door swinging on its hinges.

I stepped into the office and did a quick survey of the place. Don Craw’s desk sat straight across from the door, and behind him was an expansive window that showed the rest of the cityscape. The floor was layered with a thick red carpet, and two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined either side of the room, each shelf packed with books – although I was willing to bet the man hadn’t read a single one of them.

Craw himself looked exactly as one would expect a man of his sleazy profession to look. His slicked-back hair – drenched in so much product it shone – revealed a receding hairline unbecoming of his relatively younger age. His skin was a sickly pale that craved for the sun, the mark of a lifestyle that spent far too much time indoors. His teeth glowed like little pearls, his face was clean-shaven, and his skin looked far too soft for a man his age; all in all, he was the kind of person who invested far too much in his appearance and not enough in his personality. The kind of person I immediately disliked.

But all that was the same as the first time I’d come to the office. What caught my eye this time, however, was the lineup of five suited men who stood at attention to my right. Their faces remained utterly expressionless as I entered, though the dark sunglasses they all wore likely helped mask any emotion they did have. Muscle memory honed by years of viewing everyone as a potential threat made me size them up with a cursory look. They were intimidating men, easily over six feet each, and I could tell the dense muscle that stretched their suits was not just for show.

In short, they were fighters. Dangerous, undoubtedly, but not overwhelmingly so. At least, not for me. Coupled with their attire and posture, I guessed bodyguards by profession.

Regardless, whatever the reason they were here likely had nothing to do with me, so I didn’t dwell on their presence long. With nothing more than a curious sidelong glance, I focused myself back on the smug face that Craw wore as he studied me. “Three hundred wins, Craw,” I said, not bothering with common pleasantries. “Now gimme the rest of my money.”

Craw’s irritating smile only grew at my words. “So impatient, aren’t we?” he asked in a coddling voice. “And whatever happened to hi and hello?”

I narrowed my eyes at the man, not wanting to spend a second longer in conversation with him than I had to. “Cut the jokes, Craw. I did my part of the deal. Now you do yours.”

Craw chuckled. “You did hold your end of the deal, didn’t you? I truly am so proud. It was an honor to see you grow from how you were the day we met to the way you are now. Three hundred wins is quite an achievement, especially for a young, untrained girl. I doubt you’re aware since you so rarely stick around in the club, but you’ve made quite the name for yourself among the regulars. At the very least, though, I’m sure you noticed that the crowd around your fights has gotten much larger, compared to when you first began two months ago, no?”

I thought back for a moment, comparing the size of the crowd that had been present for my first fight and the crowd present for my last. As I did, I realized for the first time that the crowd had indeed grown massively over the course of my fights. Well, the crowd wasn’t massive – I wasn’t that popular, I would have noticed if I was – but the increase was certainly notable. The number of people had more than tripled at some point over the course of my fights, and I hadn’t even realized.

“I guess, I see what you mean,” I responded finally. “But I don’t see how that has anything to do with my money.”

“Patience, girl,” Craw admonished. “I’m getting to it. Because you were such an anomaly among the fighters – a popular underdog, if you will – you brought in quite a bit more money than I expected from you.”

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“Ah, I see,” I cut in, for once happy to hear Craw speak. “So you’re upping my reward.”

Craw barked out a laugh. “Well, in a way, yes. You see, an idea came to me, one that I believe will be beneficial for the both of us.” He paused there, likely for nothing more than dramatic effect. “What do you think about entering a full-time fighter’s contract-”

“No,” I stated immediately, my voice calm but steeled.

Craw paused for a second, clearly caught off guard. It wasn't often his sales pitch was denied before he even began. “You aren’t going to hear me out? A full-time fighter’s contract can be quite rewarding, and with your skill, you should have no problem raking in massive amounts of money.”

I shook my head. “Nothing the contract can offer me is worth what it will cost.”

Craw leaned forward in interest. “Oh? But I haven’t even explained the terms of the agreement. How do you know what it’ll cost you?”

I shrugged. “Anything you people offer with the words ‘full-time contract’ is just legal slavery, and no amount of money you can offer with it changes that. At least, not for me. Nothing is worth my freedom.”

“What makes you think what we offer is slavery? Our employees are no more slaves than any other company’s employees.” Craw’s sales pitch was not to be denied, it seemed. Despite my clear refusal, he still managed to force the speech in.

“Our employees are treated very well, I’ll have you know. The prospects for you are endless. Depending on how well you perform, you could even leave the hellhole you live in and join the most elite of the city’s circles. Tyrone the Berserker, Black Cat, and Golden Boy all started out as little street urchins like you, but through their incredible skill in arena fights, they managed to work their way up to famous stars. Now they spend their days partying and drinking, with more money on their hands than they know how to spend. We-”

I scoffed at the man’s blatantly misleading words, cutting his speech off. “And you think those three are any better than slaves in reality?” I asked. “Tell me something, if the higher-ups of the Fight House were to ask them to do anything, and I mean anything, do you think they would have the freedom to refuse?” Without letting Craw respond, I answered my own question. “No, they wouldn’t. And if that isn't slavery, then I don’t know what is.”

Craw was silent a moment, and when he finally spoke, it was without the fake coating of a salesperson. “You idiot. If that’s your definition of slavery, then we’re all slaves. Do you seriously think if the higher-ups of the Fight House wanted something from you, you’d be able to refuse it? Anyone from the higher-ups of any first-rate gang could have you killed with a word. You should be grateful I’m offering you a chance to be a slave who gets rewarded with money and riches for following orders. Most people have to do it just to keep their lives.”

I looked at Craw for a moment, the disgust in my eyes so potent Craw visibly backed down a little. “What a spineless way to live your life,” I spat out finally. “Maybe that’s true for you, but those of us who value our dignity don’t roll over for the rich and powerful the second they ask us to. I will fight to the death before I let anyone else control me.”

Craw laughed scornfully. “Then you are not long for this world. Surviving in this world means knowing your limits. It means knowing who you can fight, and who you can’t. If you can’t rein in your pride in front of anyone, then it’s only a matter of time before it kills you.”

I shrugged at his words. Unfortunate as they were, I couldn’t really refute them. “Maybe, but at least I’ll be able to live with my dignity until that day comes. I’m gonna die someday anyway, and I don’t really mind when it happens, so long as I’m happy with the way I’ve lived. See, I can honestly tell you, Craw, that if I were to die today, right here and now, I would die with no regrets, because I have never once in my life forsaken my principles for the sake of another person.” I paused for a breath, studying the man again. “Tell me, Craw. If I were to kill you today, right here and now, could you say the same?”

Craw was silent again for a long moment, his face a battlefield of emotions. Eventually, he leaned back in his leather chair and blew out a long breath. “No,” he answered, “I don’t suppose I could say that. But see, for all your lofty words, the day will come that you pick a fight that you cannot win, and that’ll be the end of all those principles you hold so dear. But you see, I am a survivor. I know when to humble myself, I know when I am faced with an opponent I cannot handle. And so while you die defending your worthless dignity, I will work my way up the ranks of the world until I eventually wield the power I need to make all those who stepped on me pay for their arrogance. You understand?”

I shrugged again at his words. “All the revenge in the world won’t wash away the stains on your dignity; you’ll live with those forever, even if you have the power to make everyone around you pretend to forget. But anyway, I’m not here to debate my life’s philosophy with you. I’m here for my money.”

Craw studied me for a moment, taking in the hard resolve in my eyes, before blowing out a long breath. “So you’re certain you don’t want to sign the contract?” he asked finally.

I didn’t deign to answer the man’s question, letting my face do the talking for me.

Craw quickly got the message. “Very well, then. I didn’t want to do it this way, but I suppose I have no choice.” With those words, the man snapped his fingers and the five men at the side of the room began to move, forming a circle around me with an overtly hostile air. It didn’t take a genius to understand what was about to happen. It did, however, take an idiot not to realize it until they finally moved. But I never did pride myself on my perceptiveness, and that was not without reason.

What I did pride myself on, however, was my ability to fight.

Not taking my eyes off Craw, I plastered on the most confident smile I could manage. It took everything I had not to let a hint of the momentary surprise and subsequent panic I felt as I finally connected the dots show on my face. “Let me ask you a question, Craw,” I said, my voice unbothered and airy, as if I wasn’t surrounded by five men who were going to force me to sign my life away. “You ever wonder how I was able to win three hundred fights in the club, considering my disadvantages?”

Craw looked at me for a moment thoughtfully, carefully considering my words. “Um, no,” he said finally. “I just assumed you were a very talented fighter.”

I laughed at that. “You really know nothing about fighting, do you?” I asked derisively. “All the talent and skill in the world doesn’t matter when you’re faced with a disparity in strength as massive as the one I face against almost every fighter there. There’s no way I could hope to match up with the raw physical strength of those people with my body alone.” I paused there, fixing Craw with a grin. “But fortunately for me, I have more than just my body.”

As I spoke, I called upon the power within me, focusing and gathering the liquid running through my veins in my right hand. As the power gathered, a strange black smoke began to drift off of my fingers. It rose through my skin, like it originated from my very blood, curling and dancing in the air as it climbed up before eventually dissipating into nothing.

I held my steaming hand in front of me, taking in Craw’s shock with a smug smile.

“F-Flux?!” Craw finally managed. “You’re a mage?”