START OF 'LOST SOULS' ARC

1. Lace Amar

“This ain’t any of your business. Piss off, wench.”

The thin alley reeked of rotting meat scraps from the adjacent butcher shop. The bustle and clangor of the busy market street came in through the alley entrance. Lace stood in front of the two children, chin held high.

Five burly, rough-shaven men stood before her. They wore lazily sewn tan uniforms and wielded leather-clad batons. Now that Heroes no longer patrolled the streets as often as they once did, the Merchants’ Guild were forced to hire their own private protection. The men bore the mark of the guild sewn onto their chests—a set of scales with an eye on one side and a stack of gold on the other.

Her heart beat like a set of drums falling down a staircase, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Last warning, wench,” said the man in front, arms crossed. He was tall and stocky—small, narrow eyes set into his slab of a face. “Caught those little rats stealing.” He waved his baton in the direction of the children.

Lace looked back. The children clutched a handful of fresh apples. Judging by their tattered rags, scraped-up bare feet, and dirty skin, there was no way they’d had the money to buy them. Looking at them more closely, she recognized their faces through the dirt. Jay and Codie, they were called. They would sometimes sing for money close to her home—rather badly, at that.

“I won’t let you hurt them,” Lace said firmly. She stepped out of her shoes and tied up her long, brown hair in a quick knot. “We can still resolve this peacefully.”

“Nah,” said the leader. “These kids need to be taught a proper lesson. So do you, it seems. Get her, lads!”

Lace’s blood surged as the five ruffians spread out in a crescent before her. She took a step back, closed her eyes, and breathed out. She felt the gentle breeze on her arms, prickling the hairs.

There was no time for fear. That would have to wait.

Shoes clapped on stone. She opened her eyes.

One of the ruffians came towards her. He had his baton raised over his head, mouth opened wide in a gap-toothed warrior’s cry.

Lace entered a wide-legged stance, knees slightly bent, her mind gone all numb as she watched him approach. Her body took over. She motioned to herself with her left hand and a gust of wind shot towards her along the ground.

It tugged at the man’s leg while he was off-balance, making him lose his footing. He tripped over onto his back with a sheepish ‘oof!’. Lace delivered a swift kick to the side of his head to make sure he stayed down.

Her body grew lighter, and everything seemed to snap into perfect clarity as her face heated up. She kept her footwork smooth and springy, the way she had taught herself, ready for anything.

“Fuck! She’s Powered!” the leader hissed. “Careful with her, fellas! Get her on my mark.”

Lace readied herself, facing them all. She breathed out. The wind sighed in response, brewing behind her. She nurtured it, spurring on the playful air like a mother stirring her pot of stew.

“Mark!” the leader barked, spraying spittle.

The ruffians ran at her all at once.

Lace threw the wind she had gathered and the two leftmost thugs stumbled, thrown off rhythm. The leader swung his baton at her head and she ducked into the attack, going around his side. She delivered an open-palm strike to his back, enhanced by a flood of air, that pitched him onto his stomach with a mouthful of gravel.

Jay and Codie cheered her on with whoops and whistles.

She caught another strike coming out of the corner of her eye. It was too late to dodge, so she pushed herself with a measure of wind, putting herself just out of range of the baton. She watched as it swung by just in front of her eyes. She struck his shoulder while he was off balance and the wind sent him spinning.

Something collided with the side of her head. Sparks crackled across her skull. The world skipped a beat, and when she came to she was leaning against one of the brick walls.

She took another hit to the ribs and doubled over, wheezing as if the air had been sucked from her lungs.

Everything had gone blurry, blotches of color swaying around her.

I can’t see... Twin gods, I can’t see!

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She threw a gust out at random. A curse from one of the men echoed in her ears.

“Come on, get ‘em!” Codie shouted in a shrill voice.

Lace pushed off from the wall and blinked quickly, her vision finally evening out.

The leader came at her. His baton lay discarded nearby. His fist curled around a knife, slicing the air.

There was no time to think.

She threw up both hands and mustered all the air around her into a solid wall that traveled out from her palms.

She didn’t have the strength to knock him off his feet—he had too much momentum—but the wind deflected his aim just slightly. He shouldered into her and carried her into the wall. His knife dinged off the wall just beside her head. The bricks tore into her clothes and scratched up her back. His snarling face was only centimeters from hers. She smelled old, sour alcohol on his breath.

Lace readied another blast to force him off of her. She didn't have enough space to work with, so the force would be lessened, but perhaps...

The man’s eyes bored into her, weary and bloodshot. Hazel brown.

Just like Dad.

A cold, hard terror drove into her like a shard of jagged glass. She gasped, eyes bulging.

A smooth voice echoed in her head. You're a brave one, aren’t you?

Her body went stiff as a board. She breathed in quick heaves. The wind that flicked her hair died off.

In another world, you could have been one of mine. What a waste.

“I'll teach you a lesson that’ll turn the Unmaker squeamish,” the leader of the ruffians growled.

He grabbed Lace by the front of her tunic and pulled back his knife for a thrust.

“You there! Heroes’ Guild! Stop immediately!”

The leader froze.

Lace came out of her stupor with a sharp breath. A man stood at the very end of the alleyway. Or perhaps not a man at all.

His skin was a deep brown and thick like tanned leather. He was entirely hairless, including eyebrows and eyelashes. He wore a blackened chainmail that went down to his thighs. Flames danced about his scalp and hands, but didn’t seem to burn his skin.

Lace recognized him. It was not a face you could easily forget.

Torchbearer. C Rank Hero.

The leader had the sense to drop his weapon. The others followed suit. One of them still lay on the ground, groaning and clutching his head.

“What is going on here?” Torchbearer asked in a voice like rough parchments rubbing against each other. “I compel you to speak, in Paragon’s name!” Whenever he spoke fire flickered across his tongue, lighting the inside of his mouth in an eery glow.

“These bad men came and wanted to beat us up!” Jay shouted, pointing at the merchant guards.

“They're thieves!” the leader screeched. “We were only teaching them a lesson, lawful and all, when this Powered wench decided to step in!”

“She saved our lives!” Codie said. “We didn't mean nothin’ by the stealing, it's just we've got no food, that's all. If we had a choice, we wouldn't do it! We're no Villains, honest!”

Torchbearer glanced between the parties involved. Finally, his judge’s gaze settled on Lace.

He pointed at the leader. “You there, step away from the girl. Now.”

He did so immediately, arms held high and lips pressed into a line. Judging by the look on his face, he knew exactly how much trouble he was in.

Torchbearer walked up to Lace and steadied her with a firm hand. He helped her sit and dabbed her bruised forehead with a knuckle.

“You, sirrah, have not spoken,” he said. “What happened here?”

Lace took a few seconds to gather her thoughts. Her pounding headache didn't help matters.

“These men were hired to stop thieves, not bully children,” Lace said. “I had to step in. It's what anyone would do.”

“But they did steal?” Torchbearer asked.

“Yes.”

“And you still thought it right to intervene?”

“Absolutely.”

“I see. And this man turned his knife on you?” Torchbearer picked up the blade off the ground and held it up.

“He did.”

“Did he mean to injure or murder?”

Lace contemplated her response for a few seconds.

“Don't believe a word out of this dumb bitch!” the leader shouted. “She's—”

Torchbearer held up one fiery finger. “Quiet.” It had the desired effect. He turned the finger on her. “Continue.”

“He meant to injure only, I believe,” Lace said, staring at the leader. “His anger, bull-headedness and stupidity got the better of him.”

“I see. I've heard all I need to know.”

The Hero stood. Though he wasn't any taller than the other men, they seemed to cower before him, whereas he carried himself with effortless pride.

“You five will come with me to the guard station in Small Miracle. You children will return the stolen goods to the merchant with a sincere apology. As for you…” He looked down at Lace. “You are to be commended. Say, you look a little familiar, truth be told…”

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Lace said, a hard lump forming in her stomach. “Thank you for your assistance, Hero.”

Torchbearer shrugged, and his lips cracked into a ghastly smile. “And to you, sirrah. If those injuries trouble you, have them tended to at Wiseman’s Temple. Understood?”

“Yes, master.”

Torchbearer led the street toughs away like a throng of unruly sheep. He had Lace oversee Jay and Codie as they handed back their stolen goods and fumbled out an apology. Lace used two copper coins to buy them a loaf of bread instead. She needed to be tight on money, what with the admittance test coming up, but she couldn’t leave them to starve, either.

The children thanked her and ran off. As soon as they were out of sight, she let her smile slip and staggered against a wall. She sank down to the ground, dry heaving into her hands.