The tall one, likely the leader, gestured to his allies to approach me. They spread out, filling out the entire alleyway and blocking my path, which sent my heart racing. I only had three options available to me. Run, fight, or talk my way out. 

Sig had mentioned that we would eventually learn to fight multiple opponents, but we had not advanced to that stage yet. And worse, I had no experience in combat without any weapons. I was not even sure how to form a proper fist or throw a punch. 

Fighting may have been an option, but it was by far the worst one. I had no chance of winning against even one of them, much less seven at once. 

Holding up my hands as I took another step back, I smiled and said, “Gentlemen, please. I am sure we can discuss this politely, yes? The guards will surely be down this way, and I am willing to bet you would rather not try your luck against them.” 

The leader laughed before shaking his head. “True nuff’, but it’s a big city kid. Guards don’t like comin’ down ‘ere, and I bet we can be gone ‘fore they come callin’.” 

Surrendering was the best choice at face value, but a glance at my left hand reminded me I had something I could not afford to get stolen. Crystals and gold were valuable, but the ring was one of a kind. I was not sure, but I knew they would never let me walk away with anything worthwhile.

I doubted I could break through their formation and escape, but it seemed to be my only option. I was not sure how close to get to teleport to Cortos’ sanctum, but it was the best option available to me. 

With those thoughts clear in my head, I slowly took a few steps backward, keeping the three men in front of me in my sight as I moved. As quickly as I could, I spun around and charged towards the men at the far end of the alleyway. 

The four men seemed surprised for a second, and I managed to shove past them, but they quickly recovered, and a set of rough hands clamped onto my arm. I pulled hard against the grip, but I was unable to break free and felt myself dragged backward. 

As I stumbled back, I heard the smacking of boots against stone as someone ran at me from behind. I spun to face the figure, but as I moved, a set of arms grabbed me from behind, holding me tightly with one arm wrapped around my neck, limiting my breathing. 

One of the ones in front of me took the opportunity and jumped forward, throwing one fist out, which slammed into my stomach, driving the wind from my lungs. I doubled over in pain, struggling to stand and lashed out with one foot in a clumsy kick. My foot clipped the edge of the one who punched me, and he stumbled back, rubbing his chin while shooting me a glare. 

I flailed, struggling to think of a move and threw my head back hard, feeling a wet crunch as my skull collided with the thief’s nose. He swore and released me, but before I could run, the one I had kicked cracked me with a hard punch. My head buzzed, and arms wrenched me back again, this time holding my head in place painfully. 

“You’re gonna pay for tha’ one bra.” the one holding me said, his voice nasally. Terror overrode any sense of satisfaction from breaking his nose. 

A second punch landed in my stomach, and only the dirty arms wrapped around my throat kept me standing. A fist hit my stomach for the third time, and man holding me released his grip. I fell to the ground in a rough heap, unable to catch my breath. I heard rapid footsteps, and several of the men began kicking and punching at me as I curled into a ball to protect my head and torso.  

One strong kick, in particular, landed on the side of my head, and the world spun and faded to black. I was not sure how long I was out, but when I regained consciousness, I could feel hands turning my body over and rifling through my pockets. 

My entire body ached with dozens of bruises, and my head pounded with a headache. Looking up with blurry vision, I saw as the tall robber leaned down, his breath reeking of ale and a hint of something else I could not place. Like his allies, his face was covered in a mask, and only his dark blue eyes were visible. 

“Shoulda giv’n us the bag. Don’t like beating kids, but we gotta do what we gotta do. Won’t kill ya though, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’re thieves, not murderers.” he said, chuckling at the end. 

I numbly felt one of the men tugged at my left hand before yelling, “Boss! Look a’ this. I think this thing’s silver. I bet it’d fetch a good chunk o’ change.” 

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It took my hazy mind a second to realize what he meant, and reached out with one hand at the nearest man’s boots, who kicked away my arm with an annoyed grunt. The leader glanced down at me before pocketing the ring with a smug grin. 

I could not let him take that away from me. I needed Cortos’ sanctum to keep growing more powerful, and more than that, it was my mark as the former Archmagi’s successor. With my muddled thoughts, it took me several seconds until I realized I was not as defenseless as I had assumed. 

I had memorized the incantation weeks ago, though it was not easy remembering them in my condition. And I was confident I could direct the mana for a spell in the right direction, though I had never cast a spell before now. But I no longer had the luxury of waiting until I was sure it was safe. 

Struggling to one knee and holding my left hand towards one of them, I concentrated and drew my mana down my arm, picturing the mental image of a sphere launched from my grip.  As I recited the incantation, I felt my Aether surge through my skin, focusing and compressing. Startled yells came from a few of the thieves as they spotted the glowing green orb gathering in the center of my palm. 

The one who was digging through my bag looked up, hearing his friends shouting warnings. His eyes widened in shock, and I could see him begin to stand up. Despite this, he was just a little too slow in reacting, and I released the spell, which flew towards him almost as fast as an arrow. 

The ball of mana was rough, and most of my energy dispersed into the air as I cast the spell. Regardless, as the blast took him in the chest, it retained enough power to throw him off his feet and onto the ground, clutching his chest in pain. 

I barely noticed this, instead focusing on the agony scorching down my left arm, which made my vision swim. It was not as painful as Cortos’ tempering chamber, but it was almost more than I could handle in my state. 

Horrified shouts came from the group, and as I slowly rose to my feet and held out my right arm, one of them darted forward faster than his frail build would suggest. My vision was still blurry, and my reflexes slow, and I struggled to turn towards him, the spell forming on my lips even as I moved. 

He struck me in the stomach a split-second before I finished the spell, which launched him backward and onto the ground. The strike was less painful than I expected, likely due to matching pain now running down my right arm. Despite that, I was still unsteady on my feet and fell back to the ground, a wave of nausea passing over me. 

“Kid’s a mage! Let’s get outta ‘ere boys!” the leader shouted, panic coloring his words. 

As I sat up on one elbow, I saw the leader and his men run from the alleyway, my ring still in their possession. A few seconds later, the two I had hit with my spells staggered to their feet and ran as well, half-limping as they moved. 

I was surprised by the power of my spells, but it seemed Aether had some serious benefits. An average student my age would have barely been able to bruise them, but my bolts had hit with as much force as a shield bash from a soldier. 

Once the thieves saw me throw a few of their friends around with magic, they must have preferred to run than get hit with a spell. I suspected my attacks had broken a rib or two, so I did not blame them for their fear.

Laying down onto the ground, I looked up at the black sky as I took stock of my injuries. I knew from the pain shooting down my arms that I had overexerted my channels. Worse, I suspected my inability to fully control and wield my mana had worsened the effects. On top of that, I felt bruises covering most of my body, and the buzzing in my head told me I had an injury to my brain. 

After a few seconds, I shakily rose to my feet and slowly limped towards my bag, realizing I needed to return to the Academy immediately. Although I was devastated about the loss of Cortos’ ring, I was more likely to die than recover it in this state. 

I knew I needed to rest and recuperate first, before making another reckless move. Running off after the criminals now, barely able to stand and unarmed, would be even more idiotic than making the mistake of walking down this alleyway in the first place. 

Of course, I also needed some way to track them, but that was a problem for later. Magic had many capabilities, and tracking was likely one of them. 

By some small miracle, most of my possessions were still on the ground. My remaining gold and several crystals were gone, but the rest seemed to have been left behind. They must not have had enough time to finish digging through my bag.  

I started to gather my things, moving quickly, and knowing I needed to leave before someone else decided to come walking down this way. Although I managed to drive the first group off with magic, I could barely move, and I knew any further casting attempts would be disastrous. 

Before I could start walking back towards the Academy, a wave of dizziness hit me. I swayed on my feet and nearly collapsed against one of the alleyway walls, instead leaning heavily against it. I took a steadying breath and pushed off the wall, but my body felt weak, and a strange warmth felt like it was gathering around my naval area. 

Looking down, I was shocked to see a bright red stain slowly spreading from my lower stomach. Scanning the ground, I saw a small, several inch long dagger covered in crimson lying on the ground where the last thief had landed. 

A second, worse wave of dizziness hit me, and this time I did fall, sliding against the wall and landing on the ground in a heap as the world spun around me. Nausea flooded through me again, and I turned to one side, my dinner splattering along the ground. 

I lifted the edge of my shirt, finding an inch long hole in my stomach, the edges smooth and clean. Dark red blood flowed freely from the wound, soaking into my pants and covering my hands. 

I had been stabbed.