The ends of the grass were a vibrant green, it had obviously been planted recently but Holden didn’t notice it. He’d been wandering for almost three months, trying to get as far away from society as he could; as far away from home as he could. He thought this was his long walk into the night. He thought he would get further away from people, until he finally died. He had chosen the rocky and dangerous path. It sure beat walking through the rocks on the trail that had led him here. Still, he had been wandering and lost track of where he was.

A breeze picked up and the scents of summer hit him. He stood, leaning against his staff as the air tickled his face. Water, pine, the smells of the mountains;. Hhe thought he could even hear a babbling brook on the breeze. Was that the sound of laughter? No, it couldn’t be, he was too far out to be around other people. He was hearing things again, it had to be his monsters. He took out his flask and shot back a mouthful of the amber liquor within, some cheap whiskey he found at the last liquor store he saw. The rest of the bottle was in his backpack, waiting to be imbibed.

And so Holden went on, completely unaware of the fact that he was walking across the grass of a mountain resort. It was for skiing, and so it was all but deserted. However, the five inhabitants of the resort were also completely unaware of the fact that they were about to have two unexpected visitors.

Holden followed the sounds of the brook and found a little stream, with well cared for banks. In his depressed, somewhat drunken state he completely missed the fact and sat heavily on the bank, taking care not to put his leather boots into the water. They were the nicest thing he owned after all. He pulled his water-skin from his bag and dumped the last bit of warm water into the stream, then dipped it down beneath the water. The current quickly filled the skin and he drank. He drained a good half the water into his belly, then redipped the skin, topping it off for later.

He saw a tree in the middle of the grassy field providing shelter from the hot afternoon sun. The heat wasn’t a problem for Holden, but even still, shade felt good. He walked to the tree, and found a soft patch of grass beneath it to lay down. He was tired, he had been walking for a while, and it wasn’t always the smooth terrain he now enjoyed. He took off his pack, took another swill from his water-skin and rested his head in the soft grass.

Holden woke with a stretch to find that sunset was already on him. The faint orange of daylight could be seen vanishing behind the tops of the nearby mountains. He decided to wait and enjoy the view as much as he could. He pulled out his flask and took a pull, draining the dregs of the small metal container. Rummaging through his backpack he found the half-gallon container of whiskey and refilled his flask. He took another pull from the bottle, resealed it, then stuffed it back into his backpack. The sunset was all but finished now, but Holden still watched to its conclusion.

At long last, the traces of sun vanished from the sky as the violet dark night took over, stars twinkling merrily. Holden considered staying here for the night, but as a magician, a being who could influence the very cosmic powers of life, he would have to keep on the move. Magicians left a magical trail wherever they went. It was subtle, and most fully trained magicians couldn’t even detect it.

Holden’s father however, was more than capable of it. His father was a steward, a magical law enforcer. In that line of work, the man's specialty was tracking down elusive criminals. It’d be slow work, but Holden knew his father was tracking him. He had to stay on the move until his dad gave up on him. The stubborn old man once tracked a renegade sorcerer for over three years, before the sorcerer thought he lost him. The sorcerer finally rested in some tiny village, where Holden’s father showed up and took the criminal into custody.

Holden doubted he would warrant three years of his father's life, but better safe than sorry. After all, he was leaving his apprenticeship early, early after another...incident. Holden hadn’t broken any real lawscrimes, (or say committed any real crimes) he was just wanted for questioning to determine what happened, to determine whether he was a threat to the public at large.

Holden sighed, then got to his feet. He felt the alcohol almost immediately as he stood. It was enough to slightly alter his balance, but he was confident he could still walk easily enough. He dropped his upper body toward his legs and stretched his legs. The burn felt good, he had to be sure to…

“What is that?” Holden said to himself. He saw what appeared to be windows in the distance, across the lawn, across the small stream. Light shot from the windows, illuminating the ground outside. He stood up and turned around, almost losing his footing as he did. One of the windows was huge, and inside it Holden could see several people, all grouped up in an animated conversation. He gathered his things and ran towards the windows. He hadn’t remembered there being a building, but if he was being totally honest with himself he didn’t really pay attention. He ran, and leapt the small stream, landing in a roll on the other side. He slowed his approach, making sure not to step into the light from the windows.

Inside the big window were five people;. Ttwo women, and three men. One of the women was wearing a pair of jeans, and a hoody. Her figure was attractive to Holden, but she was facing away from him so he couldn’t see her face. The other woman was a pretty Aasain, who seemed to be listening to the first woman. On the sides were a white man, a hispanic man, and a black man. The men were looking encouragingly at the woman whose face Holden couldn’t see.

Holden crouched, letting his staff rest on his leg. He pulled a small leather pouch from his waste waist and opened it, dumping some of the contents into his hand. They were marbles, but not just any marbles, they were his magic marbles. Each had its own purpose: the red made a small explosion, the brown grounded magic, the camouflage patterned one was an active camouflage. He took it, put it in his mouth, and swallowed it with a gulp. He looked down at his hands, and they took on the background of what was directly behind them. He could only really see them when they moved.

His father didn’t approve of this type of magic, but Holden loved it! Enchantments and his magic marbles were his favorite type of magic, and what he was best at. Sure, he could use his staff, even his wand, but he didn’t want to run around with a sword like a complete maniac. That’s what his father wanted him to become, but Holden refused.

He brought his focus back to the present, and stalked toward one of the smaller windows on the side. He slowly opened it, letting some of the sound escape.

“I know you’re Rregalia, (Maybe I'm mistaken, I don't have the other book with me at the moment, but wasn't Regalia capitalized?) Ling! If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here with us! The man with the hat will come, and will claim from all of us! If we don’t stick together, we will die,” a woman said matter of factly.

“Not to take sides on the matter,” a rich mexican accent said, “but I believe this woman. She’s as smart as she is beautiful.”

“Thank you, Carlos,” the woman said.

“You’re welcome, Jen,” he responded.

“I don’t mean to be a buzzkill here, but how would the hat man enter a building?” said a rich southern (you've used the same word, "rich" to describe two different men's accents. Not that it is not a good word, but redundant?) accent. “Cause I could have sworn that window was shut when we came in here.”

There was a shuffle of footsteps, and people quickly approached the window. Holden dashed quickly behind a nearby tree, only his head barely poking out. A woman stepped up to the window. It was the woman in the hoodie. She was the most beautiful woman Holden had ever seen. The curves of her body were hidden somewhat by the hoodie, but he could see enough to be interested! Her eyes were a vibrant green, her hair dark, and her face mesmerizing.

And she was staring right at him, her mouth dropped open and her rosy cheeks blanched. He slowly backed behind the tree. If his camouflage marble had failed, he would look silly moving slowly backwards, but if it hadn’t any sudden movement would surely give him away. Once behind the tree, Holden looked at his hands, they were still camouflaged. Then he felt it. Something in the corner of his mind, told him that there was something in the corner of his eye, and that he needed to see it.

He looked across the expanse of moonlit grass, and his entire being was paralyzed with fear. It was simply a silhouette of a man, in a long coat, with a hat on his head. Nothing more, nothing less, but somehow the man let off an aura of terror, an aura of supreme confidence. It was like the man knew he would get Holden, and Holden didn’t understand how, but the man was certainly aware of Holden, and knew that Holden knew it.

“He’s here!” came the woman in the hoodie's voice.

It snapped Holden out of his stupor, and he turned away from the man in the hat. He glanced back at the window when the lights in the building flickered off, then back on.

“We do it your way Jen,” the other woman said in an asain accent, a tremor in her voice. “All together!”

Jen stepped back from the window, and the lights flickered out again. This time, they stayed off. Holden turned around to see the hat man, but he was gone. He didn’t know what was going on, but the hat man was here to kill, and if Holden could, he’d stop him. He turned to go to the window, and stopped, collapsing on the ground. The hat man was directly in front of him, eyes glowing red from beneath the brim of his hat.

Holden felt his heart palpate fruitlessly in his chest, and the world began to spin around him. He landed on his back, and closed his eyes. If he couldn’t see the hat man, it couldn’t hurt him. At least Holden hoped so.

As suddenly as the fear came, it faded away. Holden waited a moment before daring to open his eyes again. He saw the back of the hat man as the being walked into the house. Not in through a door, or window, but literally into the side of the house, melting into it. A dark residue was left on the side of the house where the man disappeared, and Holden held his staff towards it, letting light emanate from the tip. It was blood, clotted and congealed all over the side of the house.

Holden let the light die out; he was a magician, commander of the arcane, wielder of the forces of life, and he had no clue how to handle the hat man. He couldn’t look at him without freezing up.

“Who’s out there,” came Jens voice from the house.

“The hat man just got inside!” Holden said, voice cracking slightly.

Jens face appeared in the moonlight through the window. She tried to open it and it wouldn’t budge. Holden regained his feet and stumbled to the window. He put his shaky hands on it, and heaved up with all his might. It wouldn’t break.

“We need to get out!” Jen yelled at her party.

“The front door won’t budge!” yelled Carlos from inside.

“It’s pitch black, we need light!” came Ling's voice.

“I’ll get you out, I promise,” Holden said to Jen.

“Who are you?” she asked him, looking past him into the night.

“A friend,” Holden said. “Now step back, let’s break this window!”

Jen stepped back, then Holden smacked his staff firmly into the window. It didn’t even crack. He swung again, but harder, and nothing. Finally, he held his staff like a baseball bat and swung it as hard as he could, and it rebounded hard off the glass, not even displacing it.

He turned to the bigger window and swung at it as well, but it just rebounded harmlessly off the glass there as well. He stepped backwards a few paces, then swung his staff around him in circles, gathering kinetic energy as it hummed through the air. The hum changed as he swung it, deepening and intensifying as he went. It turned into a rumble that made his hair stand on end, sending light through his staff.

The light gathered at the tip and Holden bellowed “Get away from the window!” The light shone brightly, lighting up the inside of the building as though car headlights kept passing through it. The six silhouettes of the people inside were illuminated, they were all standing against the wall to the right, backs pressed against the front door. Then it dawned on Holden, there were six silhouettes. There had only been five people in the room.

“IMPELIO!” he screamed, unleashing the energy from his staff at the window. The blinding light shot forward, and crashed against the window. Holden had crushed a car, knocked down walls, and toppled trees with this spell. Yet, the window absorbed the blow. The light from the spell lingered as the magic slowly dissipated. Holden got a good look at the six people in the room. Ling, the black man, Jen, the white man, and Carlos. Directly behind the left shoulder of the white man lurked the phantom. The hat man.

Seeing him paralyzed Holden again with fear, he stood staring, as the room darkened while the magic slowly faded. When the room was dark, and Holden couldn’t see the hat man, he was released from the being's enchantment.

“He’s in there, behind you!” Holden screamed. There was a shuffling of feet, and Holden heard the people rush towards him. Carlos rushed the window, a chair in his hands held high above his head. He slammed the chair into the window and it shattered. Holden was perplexed, the window didn’t shatter. The chair did.

Jen’s face shone behind him in the moonlight, then said “Carlos, I need your help.” Her voice was calling, not just her words, but her very voice. Holden knew she was talking to Carlos though, and for a moment was jealous. The jealousy quickly turned into a desire to prove himself to Jen. He would have her call out to him.

Carlos relaxed visibly at Jen’s call, and turned to her. He walked to her, and she spoke to him, but Holden couldn’t hear what she said. They were distracted, the hat man was in the room still! The door behind them opened, shining a ray of moonlight into the room. The hatman was still behind the white person, and the silhouette wrapped its arms around the man, dragging him out of the room onto the porch outside. The door slammed shut, putting the room into complete darkness.

“He took Frank!” screamed Ling.

“I’ll get him!” Holden yelled. He sprinted around the side of the building, spinning his staff to gather as much kinetic energy as he could. He rounded the corner and saw Frank on his knees, hat man directly behind him. One of the hat man's arms was reaching around Frank, holding a large stone bowl in front of him. The bowl glowed with a white vibrancy, and seemed almost translucent. The sight filled Holden with dread, and he froze in place, staff still ablaze with the pent up energy.

“You owe the blood god a debt. You must pay it now,” the hat man said. At least Holden thought he said it, he didn’t recall hearing a voice, he just felt as though the words had played in his mind. The smell of sulfur filled Holden’s nose as a silver blade appeared in Franks hand. Frank’s eyes were glazed over, completely unfocused on anything around him. His hand slowly moved the blade closer to his own throat.

Holden snapped to his senses, and ran forward, swinging his staff with all his might at the head of the hat man. Holden knew what it was like to get hit with a battle staff. They were somewhat thick, and they were heavy. The energy he had stored in it from his swinging was several dozen swings worth of energy, which he channeled his will through to amplify as much as he could.

“Impelio!” he screamed as he swung his staff. The light that came from his staff blinded him, and he felt his staff swing through where the hat man had to be, and connect with the door to the building. It flashed like lightning, and was so loud it shook Holden to his very core. The staff rebounded, vibrating painfully in his hands. He stepped back, holding his staff in front of him, keeping it between where the hat man was and himself.

His vision slowly returned, and he saw Frank, lying on the ground. He blinked more of the after image from his eyes and focused on the man. His eyes were open and blank, his mouth agape and he had a black smile painted on his neck under his chin. Holden sent a small trickle of magic through his staff, sending light from the tip. The first thing he noticed was Frank's eyes. They reacted to the light from holdens staff, looking away for a second as the pupils constricted. It was only for a moment, they resumed their cold dead stare almost immediately. Holden looked at the smile beneath Frank’s chin then flinched, looking away as quickly as he could muster. He felt sick to his stomach, but didn’t wretch. It wasn’t black paint, it was crimson blood, the man's throat had been slit, from ear to ear.

Holden let the light from his staff diffuse and flicker out. He glanced at Frank one more time. The moonlight made his throat look like a big black smile even still. Holden crouched and gently closed Frank’s eyes, paused for a moment, then stood and walked around the building to the window. He looked in, and the rest of the group was gathered close, waiting for his return.

“I couldn’t save him,” Holden said softly.

“And the hat man?” Ling asked.

“Gone, I don’t know.”

“Who is this?” Carlos asked. “He could be the hat man trying to mess with us!”

“I don’t figure he needs to do that any more than he already has,” the black man said.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Carlos said. “He’s working for El Diablo, he’s a repo-man, repo-men aren’t nice.”

“He is the Herald of the Blood God,” Ling said. “He will torment us before he claims what belongs to the Blood God.”

“Look,” Holden said. “I’m just a guy trying to help.”

“I believe him,” Jen said, looking out the window for Holden. As she spoke a dim light illuminated the room behind them.

“So,” the black man said. “I don’t know about any blood god or El Diablo, I just met some nice fella named Samael who I struck a deal with. He gave me a family, a life, love and peace. Samael held good to his word, and I think it’s high time I hold to mine.”

Holden moved so he could see the source of the light, and the translucent stone bowl he had seen earlier sat glowing in the center of a table.

“Moge you don’t have to do this!” Jen said.

“With respect miss Jen, I do,” Moge said, stepping forward. “I’m just a regular man, nothing special. Samael made me special though. I was a slave, I was property.” Holden looked at Moge, and he didn’t look a day over forty. There was no way he could have been that old, not as a human.

“There has to be another way!” Jen cried.

“Miss Jen, you’ve always been kind, but Samael has been kinder. He freed me then took me to my wife, let me watch my children get old and die peacefully. We were never harassed, never oppressed.” Moge stopped, and took a deep breath. He stepped closer to the table and pulled out a chair. He sat down next to the table and pulled the bowl closer to himself.

“He never let my wife and I want, never let my children hurt or suffer. I’m grateful miss Jen for all you’ve done for us, but it’s my time to go. My wife has been gone for so long.”

“Stop him!” Ling cried as she rushed forward. The other three rushed forward to grab him, blocking him from Holden’s vision. Holden heard a sickening bubbling sound, followed by a yell from Carlos. They moved from view, exposing the stone table. It now glowed red, filled with what Holden assumed to be blood. Moge lay lifeless on the table behind the bowl. The color of the bowl slowly faded from view, until not even its silhouette remained.

“We need to get out,” Jen said. Her voice lacked the allure it had held before, and Holden didn’t like that. The pull he had felt to her vanished, and he wanted it back.

“I’ll find a way in!” Holden yelled. “I’ll get you out!” He ran around to the front door and tried to pry it open, but it wouldn’t work. He held the tip of his staff to the door, let his magic fill the staff, and whispered, “recludo.” Nothing happened.

He gathered his will, opened his third eye, and beheld the door, looking for magic enchantments. Holden’s father had taught him that magic was an array of different forces, and could be oversimplified as a rainbow. Each color was used for a different effect. It was most concentrated in any life giving force, whether a sap from a tree, hemolymph from an insect, or blood from a mammal. That’s exactly what Holden saw on the house. It was coated in a thick layer of congealed blood. He pressed the tip of his staff to the blood, but was stopped within a hair's breadth of the blood. Holden closed his third eye and shook his head, pressing the images from his mind.

After a few moments the nauseating images faded, and Holden began his walk around the outside of the house, looking for a way in. He saw an open window leading into a hallway. It was on the second story, but there was a latticework laden with vines to the right side. Holden placed his staff in the strap on his backpack and began to climb. He had almost reached the top when the dim light in the hallway flickered on. Carlos came around the corner, running toward the agape window. It slammed shut just before the man reached it. The impact shuttered the latticework, launching Holden to the grass. He rolled awkwardly across his backpack and staff before finding his feet.

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Carlos was pounding on the window with no success. The light dimmed, to no more than a candles brightness, showing Holden no more of Carlos than his silhouette. The light flickered again and the hat man appeared behind Carlos. On seeing him, Holden was held still, paralyzed by the hat man's eerie gaze. Carlos looked at the window, seemingly spotting the hat man. Holden yelled, but Carlos either didn’t hear him, or ignored him altogether. Instead of reacting, he reached beneath his shirt, and pulled a small silver knife from a leather sheath hanging around his neck.

The hat man closed the distance between the two in a blink of an eye, brandishing his translucent stone bowl which glowed the same color as the silver moon. Carlos turned, stabbing the hat man. Not at the hat man, Holden was shocked when the blade stuck into the hat man's neck. Carlos pulled it out and stabbed again and again.

The hat man caught Carlos’ hand, twisted it sharply, turning Carlos back toward the window. He slowly positioned the bowl in front of Carlos, slightly below his collar bone. The silver knife gleamed with the light from the stone bowl as the hat man directed it slightly below Carlos’ ear. Carlos strained with effort as he tried to push the hat man away, but the blade slowly broke the man's skin. The black, unlit blood slide down the blade, hiding it from view. Carlos’ eyes widened with fear as the hat man brought the blade down his neck, then across the front of Carlos’ throat, then back up the other side. Black sprayed ionto the window, turning red in the light as it spread across the glass. The last thing Holden saw was the life leave Carlos’ wide, terror filled eyes.

Holden shook himself from the stupor that had held him, and fell back to his buttocks, trying to catch his breath. After several long moments, he rose. His lungs felt raw, and went into a small fit of coughing. He had to get into the house, he had to stop the hat man or everyone in there would die. The hat man would take their blood, and give it to sSamael, or to the blood god, or whoever the hell had actually sent him.

Steeling himself, Holden climbed the latticework as quickly as he could. He didn’t stop at the second story window though. That was shut, there was no entry for him there and he knew it. Instead, he climbed to the roof. Once there, he made his way to the chimney. The building and grounds had seemed well kept, but still old. Odds were good this chimney would be wide and lead to an actual fireplace.

“Oh thank God,” Holden said to himself as he looked down. It was wide, and there was no fire below. “Time to get dirty,” he mumbled.

“You better watch out,” he sang under his breath as he climbed over the brick and put a leg into the chimney. “You better not cry,” he continued as he put the other leg in. His backpack was too big to fit with him, so he took his staff from it, and tossed his bag down first. “You better not pout,” he went on, lowering himself down. “I’m telling you why, Holden, is coming, to town.” He dropped, holding his staff at an angle, pressing it hard into the side of the chimney to slow his fall. He finally reached the bottom, and rolled his ankle on his backpack. He fell across the hearth with a puff of ash and soot, landing heavily inside the building on a hardwood floor.

“Ho ho ho,” he said emphatically, rotating his ankle to test its range of motion. It hurt, pretty bad too. He didn’t think he’d be able to run, but he also didn’t think running would help against the hat man. It wasn’t his physical prowess that would get him out of this he was sure.

Holden was going to yell that he was inside, but thought better of it. Instead he surveyed the room he had entered. He appeared to be downstairs, in a spacious sitting room adorned with large, comfortable looking chairs. He climbed to his feet and winced in pain. His ankle would heal, but it was going to hurt for a while first.

Holden collected his backpack, put it on, brushed a little ash off of himself, then looked around his surroundings. He focused on his staff, willing magic through it. The tip glowed with a small white light, and he used it to illuminate the far reaches of the room.

On his right was a beautiful pair of french doors, which led into a grand dining room. The hall had two long rows of slender tables, none of which were set with anything other than a white tablecloth. The ceilings were vaulted, probably 12 or so feet from the tabletops. Above each table was a beautiful crystal chandelier. The light from his staff reflected from the stones of the chandelier, sending glittering light around the room. When Holden held still it looked like thousands of beautiful stars. As he moved the perceived stars began to flicker, his light catching different surfaces of the chandeliers.

He dropped his gaze to the door opposite and his heart dropped in his chest. Two silhouettes stood, watching his light glow. He still wore his camouflage enchantment, so he must appear as a flickering phantasm of soot with a glowing staff.

One of the figures pointed something at Holden, and a jet of energy shot brightly at him. He ducked clumsily, barely dodging the blast, which exploded into the wall behind him.

Holden focused his power on his staff again, creating a shield of magical energy around himself. Another blaze of light shot at him and smashed hard into his shield. He could feel it pull energy from his shield, and had to reassert his will to keep it going. He didn’t know how long he could keep it up against the spell. Changing tactics he focused on the portion of his staff that was spreading ambient light through the room. He focused that light to a point, and shone it at the two figured in the door. It was Jen and Ling. Ling had her arm outstretched with a magical wand firmly in hand.

“Jen, Ling!” Holden cried. “It’s me! Your friend from outside!”

“You appear as the hat man!” Ling shouted. “If you are our friend, show yourself.”

“Alright, I’m going to lower my shield, so don’t shoot!” Holden called back. There was no response, Ling just stood as still as a statue, wand aimed at Holden. Holden recalled the power from his shield slowly, but kept it on hand in case he needed it to launch back out. The shield faded after a moment, then fizzled out completely. Once it was gone, Holden focused his will on the power of the camouflage spell and suppressed it. He had to hold his magic actively against it.

“Ling, the hat man cannot appear like this. He never has this much detail. It’s not him,” Jen said.

“I’m no hat man,” Holden said. “My name is Holden Higginbotham the seco...” He had barely finished his name when Ling attacked again. Holden summoned his shield and lost his focus on the camouflage suppression. The blasts of energy pounded repeatedly on his shield, and it was all his effort to keep it erect. Holden knew he wasn’t a fighter. He thought he should drop the shield and dash to the side, dimming his light from his staff and blending in with the darkness of the room. He didn’t though, he didn’t know how to time it, he didn’t know how he would fight back once he was disengaged either.

It didn’t much matter though, as another blast of blinding light energy projected from Ling's wand, and shattered Holden's shield, sending him crashing into the wall behind him. The light from his staff wicked out and he lay on the floor, muscles shaky from the crash. He could feel pins and needles all through his body, and his hair felt like it was standing on end.

Another jet of energy exploded on the wall above Holden, sending a shower of sparks down on him. He lifted his head and looked at the two women in the doorway. Ling stepped forward, and Holden could see her in the moonlight as she stalked. It then dawned on him, that she couldn’t see him.

“That’s one way to disengage,” Holden thought to himself. He got to a crouch then reached as quietly as he could into his pouch, and drew a handful of magic marbles out. He crushed them in his hands and they turned to dust. He mumbled a hushed incantation and power spread into the dust. He blew on it gently and it spread throughout the room, coating everything in a fine layer that was invisible to the naked eye.

Before he could talk he needed cover. He wasn’t much in the way of magic, so his shield wouldn’t hold long. He found himself wishing he could use his staff like a battle mage. He would have had to listen to his father for that, and Holden didn’t like fighting. He liked creating, and using his magic for fun, and for good,. Nnot for war.

He got behind a table, and projected his voice as best he could saying, “We don’t have to be enemies.”

Ling spit out a bitter laugh. “You should have thought of that before you invaded China and killed our greatest warrior!”

“I’ve never been to China, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Holden said back. Then he realized why this woman attacked him. His father was a battle mage, and had single- handedly stopped the great magical war, embarrassing all of the Chinese empire.

“You looked young to have been there,” Ling said. Holden could hear the sneer in her voice. “Was it your grandfather?” Ling mocked. “I’ll get vengeance if nothing else.”

Holden snuck around the table, placing himself behind Ling, who had crept forward, then lifted his staff high above his head. He only had one shot at this so he couldn’t miss. Well, not if he wanted to live. He swung the staff down as hard as he could, and it hit the woman's wand, snapping it into two pieces.

She spun on him in an instant, grabbed him, and threw him over her head onto one of the tables behind. He rolled down the table from the momentum, and much to his own surprise, found himself on his feet. A sharp pain in his ankle reminded him of his tumble earlier, and he decided not to show any pain to this woman.

He looked at her, and she jumped to the table, eyes searching. “I heard you land on the table, but you are again, invisible. Fight like a man!”

If she thought challenging his manliness was going to do anything to him, she was wrong. His father had been overplaying that card for years. Instead, Holden just stood, very still.

“Fine, have it your way,” she snarled. She reached into a pocket on her dress then pulled out a small dagger.

Holden sighed then said, “Why do so many people need to stab each other tonight? I don’t want to fight!”

“Chaxun,” the woman said. As she did, her dagger glowed slightly with more than just dim reflections in the moonlight. Her eyes looked around the room, then focused on Holden. “I see you! You cannot hide from me now!” Holden felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop open.

Without realizing what he was doing he began to spin his staff around his head, gathering kinetic energy in it with the power of his will. Ling charged him, brandishing her curved dagger menacingly.

“Impellio!” Holden roared, releasing the energy in a small concentrated sphere. The ball blasted at Ling, who sidestepped it in a blur. It cost her her balance though, and Holden was able to deflect her away. A searing in his left arm drew his attention and he looked down to see what had happened. A long gash had cut through his attire that ran the entire length of his forearm. He could feel the expression on his face, it was pain mingled with fear. His father had taught him never to show weakness. He stepped back from the woman, wincing on his injured ankle.

“It looks like the baby Higginbotham isn’t a warrior!” Ling jeered. She twirled the knife across the fingers of her hand. It shot into the air, then she caught it again.

“Really?” Holden asked. Surely she didn’t just taunt him. He gripped his staff hard in his right hand and began spinning it around again, gathering more momentum as he did.

“I’ll enjoy gutting you!” Ling sneered, and she sprang at him again.

He swung his staff as hard as he could muster and yelled “Impellio!” His ankle gave way and he fell to a knee as he did. The pain wouldn’t let him focus on his strike, and he released the kinetic energy in a wave at the woman. There wasn’t enough to do much on its own, especially as spread out as it was, but amplified by his will it was enough to send Ling crashing into the wall behind her. She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, letting cry a scream as she did.

Holden clambered to his good foot, and resumed spinning his staff as best he could. That strike wouldn’t keep a human down, let alone a magician. And soon enough, Ling rose to her feet, laughing as she did.

“That’s it?” she asked. “Your best strike? You’ll bleed out before you kill me, just kneel and I’ll give you a clean death.”

“Not gonna happen lady!” Holden said through gritted teeth. The more time she gave him, the stronger his next strike would be. If he could connect with a clean, solid hit he was pretty sure she’d be down for the count. His staff began to glow with the energy he was amassing.

“It’ll take more than that,” Ling said. In one fluid motion she leapt onto the table and dashed at Holden.

“Impellio,” Holden roared, hurling a softball sized blast of kinetic energy at the woman. She dodged it and rushed him, murder in her eyes. Holden had been counting on that. The blast shot behind her and collided with the wall. Without wasting a moment he swung his staff back toward her as hard as he could. The dust he had released earlier was coating the entire room, giving Holden a sense of awareness to it. Even more, it gave him a connection at a deeper level. First, he grounded himself to the table, and the table to the floor. He could ignore some of the laws of physics, but not all with his magic. Then, he attached his magic to a chandelier behind him, and it launched forward with his staff. He could feel the weak point where the chandelier attached to the ceiling, it resisted for only half a second before it broke free.

The whole thing flew over his head with the swing of his staff, directly at Ling. She was within a few feet of Holden now, so he saw her eyes widen with shock as she looked up at the airborne chandelier. In the moment before the chandelier hit Ling, Holden saw the pigment of her face darken to a translucent black. Her eyes darkened to blackness, then it crashed into her with a deafening crack and the sound of shattering glass.

The woman and chandelier were sent bouncing off the table and crashing into the remnants of his kinetic blast, which was still rebounding off the wall. It sent her forward, and she fell into the chandelier, a mess on the ground. Holden waited, he didn’t mean to kill the woman, and as a magician that shouldn’t have done the job. After a few long moments, she rose from the ruin. Darkness shrouded the woman, her skin had all gone from the pale white to translucent with a layer of darkness underneath. Not black in the skin color sense, but in a darker way. It was as though the pitch of night was beneath her skin, and the skin and gone clear to let it show.

She threw the chandelier to the side, and floated up to the table top. Holden grabbed another chandelier with his power, and hurled it at her. She slashed with a clawed hand and split the thing in half and stepped forward. He threw another to the same outcome. The room seemed to come slightly more into focus as the darkness beneath her skin changed, letting off a red hue throughout the room. Her shadow stretched to the wall behind her, appearing even more menacing than Ling herself. Holden froze. It wasn’t her shadow, it was the hat man.

In a moment, the hat man was directly behind Ling, glowing stone bowl in one hand. Holden pointed, he tried to speak to Ling, to warn her, but words didn’t come out. His body betrayed him as he slipped backwards in his blood that had leaked from the cut on his arm. He fell hard on the table, and clambered back, away from Ling who was now walking towards him. She looked so self satisfied, but she didn’t know what was behind her.

“I am a wraith assassin of the rRegalia!” Ling said. “Did you really think you could best me?” She threw her head back in a laugh. Then she saw it. The hat man. She froze in place, the hat man reached with his fantasmic free hand, held it inches from Ling's face, and drew the blood and energy from her. It followed the being's hand and began to fill the bowl. Holden couldn’t see what happened next. In later years he wouldn’t know if it was because he had looked away, or if the hat man had simply willed it to be so, or simply because he had lost a large amount of blood. All he remembered seeing was the color slowly draining from Ling, and someone grabbing him and pulling him from the room.

In the next room his mind refocused, and Jen was there. She had a small dagger of her own and used it to slash away the bottom of the white summer dress she wore. It exposed her thighs well above the knee, and even in his weakened state, Holden couldn’t help but notice. The skin on her thighs was tan, but not too dark. Although, Holden admitted to himself that this woman couldn’t be too dark. Whatever shade she was would be perfect.He followed the flow of the dress up, her breasts weren’t large, which was just what he liked. Again, with her the size wouldn’t matter. The skin of her shoulders and neck was also slightly tanned, and he felt himself fantasizing, dreaming of touching it.

A sharp pain on his arm snapped him out of his stupor, and he looked to its source. Jen was wrapping the piece of her dress around the gash on his arm, bandaging the wound.

“We need to get out of here,” she said. “If we can, we might be able to escape the hat man.”

“Uh, yeah,” Holden guffawed. He was still absolutely twitterpated by this woman. “I came down the chimney, maybe we could go back up it?”

“One of lLing's curses deflected from your shield and made it collapse. Upstairs doesn’t work either, the second story is sealed off, it closed when Carlos went up,” Jen said. “We have to go down. This way.” She turned, taking Holden gently by the arm and led him down a hallway. His ankle stabbed sharply with each step, and he couldn’t help but limp. “I saw the stairs over here before I heard you come into the manor.”

“Yeah, I kinda hoped it would work better than it did.” He couldn't help but feel grateful that she wasn’t there when he rolled his ankle. “Why did you run to the sound?” he asked.

“The hat man doesn’t make a sound. I figured it was you, I thought maybe you could help.

Jen ran to him, did that mean he was a source of comfort for her? He slipped and almost fell, but Jen caught him with an unnatural strength. “You’re magic too?” he asked.

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, but said nothing. She led him around another corner, then down the stairs, supporting him as they descended.

“Look, I need to know, you’ve got me feeling things that I shouldn’t be feeling under these circumstances,” Holden said. He sure hoped he was right, otherwise he’d be admitting some stuff to her that he ought not be admitting. “If you are, stop charming me.”

Holden went down another stair, but his ankle gave way and he fell completely. Jen was between steps and wasn’t able to catch them so the two of them tumbled down the stairs together. Holden landed on his back, and Jen atop him, legs straddling him on either side. He was very aware of the pressure of her pelvis against him. He glanced down, and her cleavage exposed most of the slope of her small breasts. He followed her skin up to her collar bones, her neck, her chin. Her soft looking lips, her nose, then her eyes. Her mouth opened slightly, she was breathing heavily. She was staring at him, and Holden got the distinct impression that she wanted him to kiss her. So he did.

Her lips were soft, yet firm. She kissed him back passionately, her hands touching his chest. He felt her legs, up to her buttocks, then up her back. It was tight and fit. He felt her under the back of her bra, then brought his hand around to the front. She reached to his belt buckle and began to undo it, grinding him as she did. Her mouth made its way to his earlobe, then down his neck while she worked the buckle. He looked past her up the stairs, and saw a very distinct outline. The hat man loomed at the top of the stairs. Holden felt the being's gaze pierce into his mind, attempting to paralyze him with fear.

Jen stiffened up, as though she could feel the emotion coming from Holden. He felt her pull on his mind as well, and it stopped him from freezing completely.

“We need to go now,” he said. “Hat man, stay there!” He knew the words were useless, but felt braver in saying them. Jen clambered off him, and didn’t look at the hat man. She tucked to the right around the corner, hiding from the hat man's gaze. Holden slowly stood, and kept his eyes trained on the hat man. He grabbed his staff from the floor then willed power into it, then blasted a ray of light at the being:. aA lot of light. The hat man vanished into the rays, and Holden ran with Jen. Well, ran as best he could with his limp.

The found more stairs going deeper down, these ones were made of stone and lined with dirt. Holden got the distinct impression that this was an older part of the manor.

“Yes,” Jen said.

“What?” Holden asked.

“I am magical,” Jen said. “Emotional magic. I can’t seem to control it around the hat man. I’m sorry, it’s affecting me too though, not just you.

“Oh,” Holden said. “I’ll try to keep that in mind so we can get out of here alive.” The stairs went into water, and they both stepped down into it without hesitation. The cold washed over Holden's ankle, and it felt incredible on his injury. The water got to just above waist level before they reached the bottom of the stairs, using Holden's staff for light. They found the hallway turning into a dingy tunnel, with the ceiling getting lower and lower. After a minute or so of walking, the ceiling reached the water.

“It’s underwater or back,” Jen said.

Holden looked at her, damn she was sexy! “Not the time for that!” Holden said.

Jen looked away and said, “Sorry.”

“Let’s see what’s ahead, then after we get away from him I promise we can rip each other's clothes off,” Holden said.

“I’m holding you to that promise,” Jen said with a nervous smile. Humor was a good enough coping mechanism, they had that in common if nothing else.

Holden lowered himself into the water and shone his staff forward. He opened his eyes and flinched, not more than a few feet from him under the water was the hat man. Holden felt the terror grip him, but blast beams of light from his staff and the figure disappeared. Beyond that, the light shone and he could see a rippling surface of water. He came above the water and wiped his eyes out. Jen’s back was arced in an unnatural position and her face was locked in a rictus. The hat man was behind her. It had its stone bowl under her throat, the blade of its dagger slowly moving toward her neck.

Holden didn’t think, he just reacted. Light blasted from his staff in a concentrated beam so bright and powerful that Holden’s own eyes snapped shut on reflex. When he opened them the caver was black other than the after image that he furiously blinked from his eyes. He felt someone grab onto him. It was Jen.

“He had me!” she cried. “He had me! Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she rambled, trailing off.

Finally, Holden could see again, and the rock ceiling where he had blasted his light had been melted away in a perfect cut out of his attack. He didn’t know he had that kind of power.

“We have to swim,” he said. “Come with me and don’t look back.”

“Okay,” Jen said.

Holden took off his backpack and threw it into the water. As he did, he remembered the alcohol stored there. He needed that, if he was sober he’d go into one of his fits;. Ssee his monsters. He paid attention to his body and mind, and realized he was sober. The feeling Jen brought him, it stilled his monsters. He looked at her, and her back at him. She wasn’t just desperate, she was completely relying on him. He decided to rely on her, if they were getting out of this, he wouldn’t need the alcohol. He had Jen. He had just met her, but somehow he knew. Together they could escape the hat man. And if he was wrong? Well, he still wouldn’t need the alcohol, because they’d likely be dead.

“Let’s go,” he said. She grabbed his belt then nodded, keeping a firm grasp on him. He refastened it so it wouldn’t slide off, then submerged. He swam as fast as he could, which wasn’t fast. He had a sprained ankle, a hand with a giant gash on it, and a staff in his good hand. However, after a short time, he reached the surface on the other side, and found himself in slow moving water. It was the stream outside. Above them the stars twinkled brightly. Jens came up behind him, wiping the water from her eyes as she did.

“We’re out,” Holden whispered. “Now let’s get as far from this place as we can.” He swam with the current of the stream, Jen still against him. “Is that a motorcycle?” Holden asked Jen, spotting the vehicle ahead.

“I think so. Frank had a helmet when he got here,” Jen said.

“There are roads here?” Holden asked.

“Of course, someone would have to be crazy to walk all the way up here,” Jen said.

“Yeah, you would,” Holden said with an uncomfortable chuckle. He felt shaky to his core. He hadn’t internalized anything he’d seen or done tonight, and couldn’t stop now. He climbed from the canal as quickly as his injuries permitted, with a great deal of help from Jen, and the two of them walked to the motorcycle. He was painfully aware of her white summer dress and its transparent properties when wet. ADD SOME DETAILS HERE, THE transition sucks. (Maybe allow his mind to wander for a second into a fantasy before remembering they need to get away?)

It was a big red motorcycle with the keys still in it. He went to get on, and Jen stopped him.

“Your ankle, you can’t drive,” she looked worriedly at the manor as she spoke then got on the bike. As she fired it up, Holden looked back at the manor himself. It was spooky, he didn’t like it. He put his staff on a clip and clambered on the back of the bike with Jen, and she took off(, accelerating much faster than he expected). *I don't know, the wording is odd and I personally wouldn't use "Like" but also, that's not a sentence.* Like really punched it. He held on, but was closer than he cared to admit to falling off the back. He leaned into her, and got comfortable. They rode, for miles and miles. The manor securely behind them, Holden relaxed a little. A few more miles down the road, he caught a small whiff of Jen’s scent, and became very aware of her body against his. She glanced back at him, and rotated her hips, pressing hard against him. He pressed back. She did promise to make him follow through with it after all.

The motorcycle lurched as its engine died. Jen did some quick maneuvering and got the bike safely to a stop. “What happened?” Holden asked.

“I don’t know, it just…” she stopped mid sentence. Holden felt her body become tense against his.

He followed her gaze to the left, and not feet from him stood the hat man. The hat man approached, carrying his stone bowl, but had no dagger. Holden was paralyzed with fear. Jen pulled her own dagger out, and with eyes glazed over cut deep into her arm. Blood poured out, black in the moonlight, the glowing stone bowl catching every drop, turning a sickly red as it did.

Holden dropped his staff from his good hand. It felt like it fell in slow motion. He moved his hand to unwrap the piece of Jens dress from his arm. It was slow work, because he felt like he couldn’t move. Once it was unbandaged he took Jens knife, and reopened the wound on his arm. He put his arm beside Jens, and helped her fill the bowl with his own blood.

Once it was full, the terror subsided, and the pair of them fell off the motorcycle onto the ground. The voiceless voice in his mind spoke again.

“Your debt has been repaid. Enough blood for one life.” Then as quickly as the hat man appeared, he vanished.

Holden felt the world going dark, and suspected this was the end of life for him, when a portal opened mere feet away and out stepped his father, Holden senior. The old battle mage had his sword and staff in hand, and spotted Holden in an instant. He dashed to him.

“Dad,” Holden said. “Help us.” Then, the world went peacefully dark as Holden lost consciousness.