Yawning, I finished counting the bills in the cash register.

"Mr.Servens," I called, "I finished with the register. Do you want me to do anything else before I leave"

"No. You can leave now Cersin," Mr.Servens called from the back, tired.

"Ok. I'm leaving now," I said, equally tired. I smiled. Just another ordinary day, other than the cultists. I like my life, I thought, no fights, no action, just, wait, aren't taxes due today, my eyes widened. I raced out of the store. If I could make it home before eight, I could still take the forms to the offices.

I calmed my screaming, pounding mind. Taking a deep breath, I saw my muscles surging with strength, my legs, aching now, pounding against the pavement to the beat of a ritual drum, the buildings becoming a blur of color, and it happened. I felt the flame inside me grow a hundred fold, forcing my will into reality. In the span of a minute, I was running and leaping across whole streets. If there were police around, they'd catch me and put enough fines on me to choke a horse, but there weren't any. They were all at the border.

I was spending fifty magic a second, but I was also speeding through the streets at thirty miles an hour. I laughed carelessly, the sound echoing off buildings and reverberating inside my skull. Suddenly, a rod darted out of an alley, catching me mid-stride.

The air leaped out of my lungs, as I bounced back. The rough pavement scrapped at my limbs, my ears ringing. I rolled over to seek solace from my pain, to no avail. Groaning, I tried to get up, but something shoved me to the side, or maybe I fell over.

"Your money or your life," someone sneered.

"Hugh, wat," I slurred, my brain too foggy to register anything of real importance.

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"Look. I'm not gonna tell you again. Your money or your life," the voice asked again, almost begging. That snapped me back. I felt a hot, white rage, slowly clearing the mist from my mind. This voice had stopped me in my tracks, carelessly. Now, it wanted my money? No. My breathing quickened.

I stood up, drunkenly and in a daze, but I stood up. In my mind, I saw a flame dancing at my fingertips, begging to bring pain and suffering to all who opposed me. I felt my soul-flame grow in power, my will rising to forge once more, before being squished mercilessly like a bug. I gasped as my magic left me, clutching the building beside me in pain.

A man walked out from the same alley the first voice came from. "Look, kid. It's not anything personal. See, I'm in charge of getting this kid," he gestured at the slightly smaller man next to him, "into the nearby gang, and I can't do that if you burn him into a crisp."

I collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain. In my delirium, I remembered what this person was doing. He was squeezing my soul-flame with his.

"We can all walk away from this happily," the new stranger continued, "just give up your wallet, and Jamie here won't have to see blood today."

Suddenly, the pain stopped. The taller of the two looked at me expectantly, while the shorter one was utterly bamboozled by the whole ordeal. Using the building as a crutch, I stood up and nodded. The taller thief pushed the smaller, probably younger one towards me. I pulled out my wallet, and held it in front of me.

"There. See. We can all come out of this," the tall stranger was interrupted as a glowing, misshapen hand weakly slapped him across the face. Grinning drunkenly, I pulled my wallet back, shut my eyes, and poured everything I had into a light spell. I winced as I felt five hundred magic leave me in less than a second. The light spell, with that much magic, would make it appear as though a second sun had appeared, blinding most permanently. Forged by my flicker of a soul-flame and tempered by my disoriented will, it illuminated the entire street, purging the shadows and forcing back the encroaching darkness, and most importantly, blinding the two thieves. I ran as though wolves were behind me, which they were. Looking back, I saw the smaller one start to run after me, before the taller one put his hand on the shorter one's shoulder and smile at me, a wicked glint in his eye. That smile would haunt me dreams for the next five years.

Looking back, I never did get those tax-forms in.