You can’t trust anyone else to save you from yourself.

- A popular drinking song

Roland felt the heat behind him as he rolled to escape the gout of flame. No fire touched him but the air still singed his skin. The unnatural flames were a deep, bloody red that seemed to cast more shadow than light in the pre-dawn dimness. Just past the closing hole in the air stood Lucas.

Roland had never cared for Lucas. He was a bully, entitled and vicious in equal measure. Lucas had never done much to Roland personally, but Roland had seen the results of his handiwork on many occasions.

But as petty and sneering as Lucas could be, Roland still felt a kind of disgusted pity as he looked at what Lucas had become. His face was no longer thin and angular but swollen and bulging almost beyond recognition. The remains of his clothes clung to his body in burnt strips, and bloated muscles rippled beneath his skin in bizarre misshapen clumps. The worst of it was his smile. It was gleeful and entirely mad.

Roland was frozen at the sight, unable to do more than gape at what was left of a person he’d known. Lucas stepped forward, eyes gleaming and opened a mouth full of soot black teeth. Roland started running before Lucas vomited up another stream of blood red flame.

Lucas threw himself forward and slammed into Roland. Roland grunted with surprise and pain. Lucas’ shoulder drove into his side, and he was lifted up as Lucas kept running forward. Lucas’ fingers dug into Roland’s sides and raised him up, then brutally slammed him down.

Roland heard the roof crack beneath him and lay there, stunned. That hurt. That hurt a lot. Roland couldn’t remember the last time another person had been able to physically hurt him. Even the kick from the wolf spirit had hurt less.

Lucas grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him back up. Roland barely managed to get his feet beneath him as Lucas started throwing punches. Roland had always been a natural when it came to fighting, not just because of his size and strength but because of his ability to stay calm. While others got flustered or let anger take over, Roland stayed placid.

This was nothing like that.

Roland’s hands came up instinctively as he tried to block Lucas’ punches. The first hit made his arm go numb. The second clipped his chin and sent a wave of weakness from his head to his knees. The third slammed into his gut and drove the air out of his lungs while the fourth sent him flying across the roof.

He hit the parapet and felt his head skip off the stonework even as it cracked from the force of stopping him. His whole body curled in on itself as he struggled for breath. Nothing like that had happened to him in years. Not since before he’d killed Liam.

“Roland!”

Miles’ panicked scream brought the world back into focus. Lucas was advancing on Miles, that hideous smile still on his face. Miles was backing away, but they all knew he couldn’t escape Lucas’ speed.

Roland planted his feet. His vision was doubling and he swayed, dizzy. He crouched and closed one eye, trying to aim. Then he jumped, his powerful legs carrying him across the yards separating him from Lucas in an instant.

Lucas knew it was coming. He caught Roland in a mid-air clothesline. This time Roland was ready for the pain, ready to fight. He fell to the ground again, but that was alright. He grabbed Lucas by the feet before the boy-turned-monster could do anything. He jerked Lucas’ feet out from under him and rolled on top of him.

Roland threw two quick punches, but Lucas shifted just enough to dodge. His strikes left indentations on the rooftop, but Lucas didn’t seem to care. His own hand shot up and grabbed Roland by the back of the neck. Before Roland knew what he was doing, Lucas slammed his head into Roland’s. They collided with a crack and stars swam in Roland’s vision as he fell to the side, off of Lucas. He tasted blood.

The hit seemed to have dazed Lucas as well. He rolled over cradling his own face, giving Roland a precious second to recover. They both stood but Roland was on his feet with an instant’s more preparation.

Roland didn’t like throwing punches. He never had. But he’d always been big and other kids always wanted to challenge the big kid to a fight for reasons Roland never understood. After Roland had come home for the third time with a bloody nose and bruises, his father had shown him how to throw a punch. The real trick wasn’t to hit something but to punch through it.

His uppercut slipped under Lucas’ guard and caught him just below the ribcage. The blow lifted Lucas off the ground briefly and sent him staggering back. Roland followed, stepping in and bringing his fist across Lucas’ jaw in a picture perfect hook, knocking Lucas even further off balance. Roland used the momentum of the second punch to set up the third. Lucas’ face came up trying to see Roland’s attack. Roland’s fist crushed his nose with a meaty crack as the cartilage crumpled.

Lucas flew back much as Roland had. He slammed into the guard wall around the roof and even cracked it like Roland had. Lucas wasn’t stunned though. He was on his feet again in an instant. His nose was mashed and deformed, but the fire in his eyes had only grown hotter.

Worst of all, Roland knew he could hit harder. He’d killed some of the gremlins during the fight at the fort with his bare hands. But, whatever his appearance, Lucas wasn’t a monster. Lucas was human.

Lucas began to pick up speed and came in fast. He threw a hard right that Roland ducked. Roland’s left shot out and caught Lucas on the cheek. His arms were longer, and he knew if he could keep up, he could keep Lucas out of range. Lucas didn’t flinch at the hit though. He took it and kept pushing forward.

The two squared off, trading shots at one another. Roland landed three for every one that Lucas pushed through his guard, but it didn’t matter. Lucas was shrugging them off, taking the hits and hitting back harder. Roland could feel the terrible hatred fueling Lucas’ magic like wind off a roaring fire, could see it in his blazing eyes.

Roland tried return the blows, to put more strength into his shots but each time, he held back. He was afraid. He was afraid to hurt Lucas, and each time he tried to summon his full strength, to put Lucas down, the image of Liam gasping on the ground with his neck broken rose up to steal his power.

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The tide of the fight was shifting, Lucas pushing in closer, further limiting Roland’s ability to strike. Lucas was landing more hits, and each hurt more than the last. Before long it was Roland who was on the defensive, curling his arms in around his body like a shell. Lucas drove in even closer, putting one shoulder against Roland’s chest and with his opposite arm, slamming rapid, short strikes into Roland’s side.

Roland knew he had to change the fight or he was going to go down. He pushed back against Lucas and was shocked to find he couldn’t move him. Roland knew he was the stronger of the two, but Lucas had all the leverage. Another punishing blow slammed into his ribs and he felt something crack. Searing pain shot through him; his knees buckled.

Lucas seized Roland’s head with his swollen, meaty hands. He pulled Roland down while he brought his knee up. Light exploded in Roland’s head, and suddenly he was on the ground. Lucas was sitting on his chest and smashing his face with meteoric punches. Roland tried to get his hands up, tried to throw Lucas off him, but for the first time in years, he just didn’t have the strength.

The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth till he choked, and still Lucas’ fists fell. The pain grew and grew until Roland thought his head would cave in. He wanted to scream but only managed to spray blood in Lucas’ face. That only made Lucas punch harder, faster.

“Stop! You’re killing him!” Miles shrieked. Roland only heard it distantly but the blows did stop. Roland tried to move, tried to look up, but he could only see out of one eye. Lucas was still sitting on his chest and looking in Miles’ direction.

Roland’s eye closed and everything went black for a blissful instant. Then the world snapped back, and Lucas was off his chest. Miles was screaming again, but this time there were no words. There was nothing but fear.

Roland rolled over, even that motion making his head pound and his stomach roil. He pushed himself to his knees and elbows and struggled to lift his head. Out of his one good eye he saw that Lucas had caught Miles. Lucas tore the pack off Miles’ back and tossed it away. Slowly, the way someone might go to pull the legs off a bug, Lucas put one hand around Miles’ wrist and the other at his shoulder. Miles struggled frantically, but he was no match for Lucas’ new horrible strength. Then Lucas began to pull. Miles’ screams didn’t even sound human.

Roland forced himself up. He blocked out everything in the world but Lucas and Miles. He blocked out the pain and the nausea. He forced away even his own thoughts. He willed himself to see and to think of nothing but his friend’s pain and how to end it.

His feet carried him across the roof and just as Miles’ screams were turning to pleading gasps Roland latched onto Lucas’ outstretched limb with fingers stronger than iron. Lucas turned to him in shock, and Roland slammed his fist into Lucas’ broken nose. Lucas howled and let go of Miles.

Lucas hit Roland wildly, trying to make him let go, but Roland endured. He twisted his body savagely while pulling Lucas’ arm back against the joint of his elbow. There was a moment of strain and then a loud popping crack. Then it was Lucas’ turn to scream.

Roland fell to the ground, exhaustion washing over him. Lucas staggered back, shrieking in pain and rage as his arm flopped bonelessly below his shattered elbow. Miles was suddenly at Roland’s back, frantically telling him to ‘get up,’ that ‘we have to go’ but Roland knew he couldn’t go anywhere.

The elbow would hurt Lucas, but he wasn’t done fighting. Roland could already see fury overpowering the agony in his eyes. If Roland was going to end this, it had to be now. He had to. There was no other way. Both his and Miles’ lives depended on it.

He shrugged off Miles and got to his feet. He felt unsteady, but Lucas’ eyes were on him. He didn’t have much time. Roland reached out through his feet, felt the deep stability of the stone beneath the building. He did not draw on that power. He was that power.

The weakness left his knees. The shakiness was gone from his arms. His head cleared and as Lucas began to charge him, Roland knew he had everything he needed to break his enemy.

Roland strode forward as Lucas sprinted at him. He could see that Lucas was blinded by his madness and furor. He knew exactly how and where to hit, how to bring all of his force to bear and turn all of Lucas’ momentum and strength against him.

Roland planted his foot as Lucas came into range. His arm went back and pistoned forward with all of his body’s appalling strength behind it. And at the last minute, he saw the boy with the broken neck.

Roland pulled his punch.

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Hoeru wanted to scream but ran instead. He still carried the girl, and his instincts howled for him to get her away from the city. The acrid smell of smoke mixed with the tang of blood on the air. The smell brought back memories of the day he’d lost his first family. He tried to force back those sharp images and smells. His blood family was gone and remembering them now could only hinder him from saving the family he’d earned here.

He’d thrown himself through the portal without looking, expecting to find Miles and Roland there. Instead he found himself alone at Dominic’s mansion. When he turned back to the window he’d come through, he saw Raziel’s hands slip and the widow was instantly gone. Hoeru had clawed at the air trying to find an edge, trying to rip it open and find his friends again. It was only then that he’d really seen what was around him. The grounds of Dominic’s mansion, once pristine and cared for, were burnt and covered in pieces of mortar, wood, and glass.

Hoeru had looked in horror at the devastation of his home. The gates were warped and twisted, burnt and melted by some incredible heat. The mansion’s doors hung by a single hinge and the statue that stood guard before it lay in broken pieces scattered about the porch. The mansion bled weak trails of smoke from broken windows and gaping holes. The dormitories weren’t on fire but had clearly seen battle. The only thing that gave Hoeru any comfort was that there were no bodies. That meant that people had probably escaped. If they hadn’t been eaten whole.

He’d set the girl down when he’d first come through the portal, and she hadn’t stirred. He’d taken off his shirt and used it to cover her as best he could. The yolk she was covered in still clung to her, and she was cool to the touch. His shirt was as much as he could do for her at the moment. He picked her up and started to run.

Hoeru had never grown fully comfortable out in the city proper beyond Dominic’s walls. He had always thought that the problem was the people, the strange looks they gave him. But the people were gone now, and the deserted town was a thousand times more distressing than ever before. Hoeru ran with no clear destination in mind. The sense that he was being followed hounded him at every step. He could still smell people, their fear still fresh on the air, the detritus of their passage littering the streets. But there wasn’t a single person to be found.

His own safety didn’t concern him. It was the thoughts of his friends, of the danger they were surely in, that drove him. At the same time, the skeletal girl in his arms seemed so fragile, and he had no idea how to care for her. He desperately wanted to escape the dying city, to run into the forest, but he knew he needed help for the girl and would find none among the trees.

He needed Dominic or Duriel, or maybe even Miyo. Anyone he could trust with the girl so he could go help his friends. Hoeru knew they needed him, but his panicked mind couldn’t think of a way to find them. Until he heard the distant ringing of a clock tower. It was nearly drowned out by a blast of thunder, but Hoeru heard it.

The nearest clock tower was only a few streets away. Hoeru dashed toward it. Jumping over the wall surrounding it was as easy as tearing the lock from the door. Negotiating the ladder proved more difficult, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone. Finally at the top of the tower, he was able to look out at the city.

Most of it looked surprisingly normal. The smoke of burnt out fires drifted up toward the sky in a few places, but most of the town looked like it would at any other time. The docks were completely empty, and Hoeru guessed that the city’s population had escaped on those ships. Remembering what he’d seen when the portal first opened, he looked for the hospital. It was far off, but Hoeru could still see scorch marks crisscrossing its roof. There was no one on the roof, but he started to move in that direction when sudden light caught his eye. Near the docks blue light flashed from inside a building.

Hoeru knew instantly that it was Raziel. Hope surged in his chest, and then the building began to collapse. All thought of the hospital fled from Hoeru’s mind as he scooped up the girl again and leapt nimbly through the trapdoor. He was out of the clock tower and dashing to help his friend in moments, terrified he was already too late.