She was right for the most part, the cook master. It wasn't two days since the escape, and the hand had grown infected and was starting to fester. He had torn some of his filthy clothes and wrapped it as best he could through the raking sobs. Plenty people heard the child wail in pain and cry between guttural, heaving breaths. No one cared enough to stop, he hardly saw a second glance from the people that walked past. After passing out from shock and exhaustion, he woke two days later. Thirsty and hungry, not knowing where he was. He was woken by a rat like creature pulling on his finger trying to eat his finger. The creature had the head and face of a rat but the lower jaw split and opened up in a fan like manner with fangs pointing up and a tail that had a pincer like claw for pinning down prey. When Thorn started to move, the creature scurried off on all six legs making a clicking squeak as it ran. Thorn knew his hand was bad. He didn't feel the thing eating it, he felt the tug on his arm as it tried to get better purchase for a bigger bite. Of which it had taken a few. The first two knuckles on the little finger, the third and middle fingers had all been eaten back to the bone. He took one look and passed out again. When he awoke, he still had the same amount of flesh missing. But now what was left had turned black and stank beyond belief. He knew he was going to die. Here. In this alley. The furthest away from his dorm as he had ever been before, and he was going to die here without ever knowing the feeling of freedom and love.

It was dark, too dark to be a normal night. The streets were ominously quiet too. Thorn rolled to his side and looked down the dark alley way, surprised to still be alive. He could see a haze over his vision. He was unsure if it was a sleeting rain or his vision was going, and his body was systematically shutting down. For he could not feel his right arm at all now. He saw a thick fog roll down the street and through the alley way towards him. The mist passed over him and he could feel the thickness of the air around him increase. It became harder and harder to breathe. The mist suddenly undulated and writhed within itself. Then started to swirl and spin in a speed that defied reason. He could no longer breathe at all. His lungs were being sucked out of his chest along with the air. The pressure of the whirling fog was so great that his ears began to bleed. He was being lifted off the damp hard ground and suspended in the air by the mist. His head tilted back, and his eyes shot open wide. Mouth open wider trying to suck in any life-giving oxygen he could, to no avail. Blood mixed with tears as they both streamed from his eyes but getting sucked into the vortex almost instantly. Not quite seven cycles and he had known little more than misery. No parents, nor friends; he finally gave up the fight and went limp. But he didn't drop. He was still floating in the air lifelessly. His short flame extinguished before it ever started to glow.

But just as Thorn's life force was stolen from him, it appeared he was glowing. Because from around the corner of the alley came the figure of a man in literal glowing armour. Bright as the sun on the clearest day. The figure was holding his hand out extended in front of him in a clutching, grasping manner. The rays of light increased and with it, the alley was lit brighter than ever before. The figure kept his hand outstretched, closed his eyes and started mumbling, faster and faster. The same thing over and over again. 'Teltha zampa helios sempta fye' over and over. Louder and louder. Until the last one was shouted, as he opened up his eyes and looked to see the fog beginning to slow down and shrink. Loosening its grip on the dead boy. He concentrated even harder and took a step forward. Repositioning his feet in a sturdier wider stance, he closed his eyes again and summoned all his strength. With a flash of intricate hand motions that passed across his face chest and in front of him. He opened his eyes and let out one word. With that one word he threw his hands forward and the fog was instantly dispersed. Dropping the boy from height. But the figure was ready and waiting, took three bounding steps and slid to his knees to catch the limp form just before he hit the ground. After a quick inspection of the boy’s body. He discovered his most serious injury in his hand. But discovered multiple sores that were festering and oozing with puss. Bruises from multiple sources, long thin ones that were a reddish welt. Some deep dark purple and yellow mixes and plenty of scars. The saviour then opened up the boy’s eyes and couldn't help but stifle a gasp as he saw the cold hollow blue eyes the boy possessed. Reaching behind him he pulled out a tiny glass phial from some hidden pocket in his armour. Parted the boy’s lips and poured it in, closing his mouth instantly. With the other hand, he held it above the boy’s chest closed fisted. Again, closing his eyes. His hand hovered above Thorn's heart, then shockingly fast and loud he opened his eyes and hand at the same time, shouting 'REICHE!'. An immense glow emanated from Thorns chest until the point you would feel it was about to explode. Then the figure sat him up, still holding the boys mouth shut. Then with another much simpler motion of his free hand he muttered a quick mantra under his breath until his finger glowed the same glow as before. Then with a moments pause, he hit Thorn in the chest with his finger. The instant it made contact Thorns eyes shot open. Drew breath through the nostrils, swallowing the contents of his mouth subconsciously. Instantly feeling the healing properties take effect within his body. He caught a glimpse of his saviour. He was exhausted and panting, sweat beaded his brow and pain lined his face. He noticed the young perfect skin and light sandy blonde hair with gentle dark green eyes. That portrayed experience and youth. Eyes that put his fears at ease. Thorn took one look into those eyes and knew instantly that he was safe. He knew he was safe because it was a feeling he had never experienced before, and he loved it. His eyes stared floating in the back of his head. Losing consciousness, he pulled himself back to focus for an instant. "Who - Who are you?".

"My name is Talix, young one. Now rest. You're safe for now". Almost as if hearing the words as a command to fall asleep, Thorn's head lolled to one side, his breathing was deep and regular. "Rest easy while you can young one. Your journey will be long, and you will need your strength".

Thorn awoke with a flutter of the eyes. He didn't know where he was, nor did he know how long he was unconscious for. The room was dimly lit by a small hearth. The orange flickering to yellow and back again reflected off the smooth stonework that held the sturdy walls together. Thorn drew a deep breath through cracked and dry lips. His mouth felt like a desert and the sharp feeling of air rushing down his parched throat made him cough. He caught the scent of something cooking over the small fire in a black cauldron. The smell would have normally sent his mind whirling and his mouth watering, but he still felt like his brain was swimming through a thick fog that just wouldn't clear, and his mouth remained painfully baron. He could feel covers on his body but couldn't tell how far down the sensation went. So, he began to wriggle his toes, then his ankles. To his relief he could feel everything. He clenched his fists and his eyes shot wide. Gasping in shock he realised that he could only feel his left hand, no movement on the right at all. A tear ran down the corners of his eyes and down past his ears, wetting his hair. He knew he lost his hand. From the wrist down, there was no sensation. No pain, just hollow nothingness. The muscles used to control the hand still engaged and did what they were told for the most part. Just like a blind puppeteer who has no idea his puppet had been cut from the strings.

He began to sob to himself, for himself. He hadn't really known happiness growing up. Had no parent's, no home, no friends, everything he had ever known was taken from him. Now his hand was also gone. Thorn wondered what next would be taken from him. With another gasp he sat up and clutched his chest with his left hand. There, with a sigh of relief he felt the cold touch of his mother’s amulet. He immediately fell back on to the bed from the excursion. The bed? For the first time he realised that he was laying in an actual bed! He tried to get a better look at his surroundings. Wriggling his head to the side and trying to shuffle to the same side, he managed to get a look at the room. He was up against the back wall on the bed. There was a wooden table to his right with all manner of glass phials, empty and full, and varying different colours balanced on top of each other at impossible angles and weights. On the stone wall that the hearth was located, were metal tools and items hanging from rails and hooks fastened to the wall. Thorn wriggled to the side a little further, bringing the silhouette of a man standing directly in front of the fire in to view. Leaning against the wall with one hand and stirring the cauldron from which emanated that aroma he detected earlier with the other. Thorn found himself staring at the figure, wondering what to say, or if he should say anything at all. Then he caught a glimpse of that bright glowing hair after his eyes had time to adjust to the harsh lighting of the fire. His rescuer kept stirring the cauldron. Thorn tried to spit out a meagre "Thank you" but it came out more like a strangled groan and some coughing. "Don’t try to speak just yet, you need to wait until your body heals some more. Now you're awake however, I can make that go a little bit faster". With that, he took some large gaited steps and picked up a bulbous glass phial that contained a purple liquid. Swirled it around for a moment and then chanted a prayer or mantra of some sort into the glass. Held his hand over the opening. Gave it one big shake and with a puff of smoke the liquid had changed into a light pink transparent colour. Then he held it to Thorns lips and tipped barely enough to wet the lips. But Thorn took it graciously and before he knew it his mouth was moist, and his breathing had become easier. His lips were still cracked and bleeding, but he was thankful for any relief he could get.

He sank back into his bedding and let the gravity take him, feeling every muscle and fibre relaxing from being rid of some of the ache. He felt muscles twitch and spasm. More so in his right arm than anywhere else. But everywhere else was still reacting to the concoction to some degree or another. "You were quite sick when I found you. Even under normal circumstances I would have sedated you somewhat for at least two to three days. You should still be asleep, but it appears that your body is more resilient than I had anticipated. Certainly more so than what I had calculated". Came the warm familiar voice. Thorn raked his memory, trying to figure out what the last thing he remembered was. His mind found images of the creature eating his fingers, a strange dense fog that seemed to want him for some reason. The air being sucked out of his body. Then the next thing he saw was the face of his rescuer. "Talix?". He asked with a tired cracked voice. "What did I say about talking? Just focus on your breathing and rest. But yes, that is my name. Your mind is also much more durable than I had anticipated. For someone so young to experience what you've..." he broke off, seeming shaken. He took a moments pause and started again. "The mind will usually reject such trauma and mask it's impact with either concealing it under the guise of a bad dream or fantasised circumstances that result in the same manner. In other cases, the mind removes the memory all together. This takes more time of course, but you can convince your mind of a great number of things if you try long enough. Your mind, however. Has managed to hold on to some of the finer details of that night". "You mean last night?" Asked Thorn. "Unfortunately, not. It's been close to three weeks since I found you. Just in time might I add. I wish I had made it there faster; we would have been able to negate a lot of this time and sorrow. Alas, what has been done cannot be changed." Thorn visibly stiffened. Three weeks!? He thought to himself. How could so much time have passed, and he not realise it? Almost as if reading Thorn's mind, Talix continued on. "I had to suspend your mind and body in time while only slowing down others to the extreme. I needed your mind to be still and calm. However, had your heart not beaten you would have died just like normal. While leaving some parts of you completely untouched for; study." "What do you mean study?" Thorn managed to croak out. He was reluctant in asking the question due to just being scolded for doing so. But the need to know outweighed any apprehension he felt. Talix seemed to ignore the fact he spoke against his command. Instead of scolding him once more he felt the boy was owed something of an explanation. So, he answered him "Once we got you back to the keep, we suspended your vitals appropriately and went to work on cleaning you up, assessing injury, and figuring out the best course of action for recovery. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary for an orphan of the lesser regions. Ringing parasites, bones that weren't set properly after a break, malnutrition, some muscular distortion, among other things. Most of these took us little time to mend, having you suspended gave us proper time and control to properly weld some of your ribs back inline. Your limp will be gone, and you will stand taller and straighter once we get you up and moving around." Talix paused, looked around for something by knocking over empty bottles and wooden crates. Finally, his hand fell upon a silver flask, which he unstopped and took a deep drought. Putting the flask down with a sigh he continued on "That took no more than two days. However, we ran in to a concerning amount of problems with your hand". "I know, I can't feel it. I can handle it, it's just another thing I've had taken away from me." Thorn trailed off while talking as another tear ran down from his eye. "Yes, we had to remove your hand. But that's not the worst of it. Were it just the cut that separated your last two fingers, we would have had no issue in cleaning the dead flesh off and then joining your flesh and skin back together. Then with a potion and some rest you would have regained full control over the hand in a matter of weeks".

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"But I don't understand, what went wrong?" Thorn spat out between deep raking breaths and horrified wide eyes. "But, there is something we have never come across before. We still don't know what it is. We don't know if it is a curse, a spell, a poison, a blade born from something unknown to us, a combination of them, anything. All we know is, whatever it is. Is still attached to you. We tried to cure it. We tried to burn and freeze it with all manner of methods both natural and magical of course. We found sustained, extreme cold slows it considerably and restricts it's movement and progression. But nothing kills it, nothing makes it detach itself, nothing to make it fall off or to separate it and stop it from regathering and regenerating. The best we've managed to achieve is to slow it down". Thorn was now shaking. Uncomprehending. But understanding it was no good news. "What do you mean? Am I going to die?".

'As best as we can tell with calculations and estimations is, you have roughly ten cycles until your arm is completely gone. After that it won't be too long until it reaches your brain and...' he trailed off. 'Can't you do anything? Is there someone who knows something you don't?' Thorn pleaded. Talix just shook his head. We've got the biggest library and medical journals this land has ever known. We've spent countless hours poring over them to find any references that might contain a trace of similarity to this...sickness. But we've found nothing'. Thorn began openly sobbing, resigning himself to doom and all the emotions that come with it. After a time, he started to calm down and breath more regularly, eventually calming down enough to ask 'What do I do now? I've got no one. I own nothing. Even my clothes belonged to someone else. What do I do?!'. Working himself up out of fear and frustration. 'You do what you want to do. You can try your luck out on the streets and maybe steal enough coin to track down someone who may know something we don’t. Or; you stay here. You study and learn, and fight this thing until the end. Who knows, we may find something out and end up curing this thing. We would have ample time to study it and figure out exactly what this thing is and exactly how we kill it. I know what I would do.' Thorn tried to sit up, but fell back down after trying to prop himself up on his elbow for too long. Instead he managed to lift his head slightly. Straining he said 'Who is going to teach me. You?'.

'Me and my master. You will meet him soon enough. You will study and get strong in the way of the light. You will master many abilities and weapons. You will be able to do things not even the greatest bards could imagine singing about-'. He paused and leaned in closer, and almost as a whisper continued. '-For we do things no one has ever dreamt about. Then, hopefully one day, we will discover exactly what this sickness is and kill it. The choice is yours.'

The choice was easy. He knew from the moment he looked in to Talix's eyes that their fates were interwoven. He never experienced anything of the sort before, therefore it must be true. A thousand thoughts and feelings ran through Thorn's young mind. The feeling of being rushed off your feet from behind by a strong wave that takes you where it’s going to take you no matter your feelings. But the place it's taking you was towards a cliff, with who knows what down the bottom and how far away it is. The feeling of knowing you have no control over your actions by an external force, and all you can do is hold on and hope the landing is merciful. Thorn no longer felt sad or frightened. He felt exhilarated and a surge of energy ran through his veins and shot out every fingertip and pour on his skin. He no longer felt scared of what was on his arm. No longer scared that whatever it was, this; sickness. Whatever is eating him alive and he will never have use of his right hand again. So, with a deep breath and a turning of the upper lip in a sign of determination. He lifted his right arm out from under his covers to reveal his situation in it’s full horror.

Talix, only catching on to Thorn's intentions a split second too late. Tried to stop him before he could see his disfigured and sickened arm. Thorn's eyes shot wide and his face drew back in horror. The arm was whole up until just above the wrist. There it was surgically removed with the precision of a master bladesman. However instead of what was supposed to be a red swollen and sore stump it looked like it was dipped in a thick tar like substance. A substance that was moving. Slowly, but it's homogeneous form had some slight movement to it. There was a dozen or so thin, wisp like tendrils that were slowly working their way up the arm. They had only moved about the length of an ant in the time since the wound had festered. But even these tendrils seemed to have some movement. They may not progress fast, but they had a slow waving, ever encroaching like motion. Thorn's mouth snapped shut, but still he stared with disbelief. Then, shaking himself out of his stupor, he put his arm down and looked dead in to Talix's eyes and said 'I would like to learn if you are willing to teach me. Master'.

'I won't be your master; you will meet him soon enough. I will however be the one teaching you most of the time. Our Master is busy or away most of the time'. Talix replied. This information came as a surprise to Thorn. How could this young man be so powerful but still only be a student? How isn't he heralded as a God amongst men? The thought made his head spin. But he kept quiet and nodded his head. Adopting the mentality of a student rather quickly. This didn't go unnoticed by Talix, who gave an inward nod of acknowledgement to the perseverance of such a young child who has had nothing yet somehow managed to have everything taken away from him, even his own flesh, and potentially his adulthood if they couldn't find a way to stop or remove this sickness.

Talix kept on working about the small room. Picking something up and inspecting it. Putting it down for another something that was more to his liking. He eventually landed upon some leather straps and a metal cup of some sort. While he was working, he spoke more to Thorn about what was expected of him. The strict guidelines of the orphanage seemed like a loose tether that could be broken by simply walking. Whereas now he felt he was locked into something by an iron vice. With more and more weight being added as Talix spoke. 'You will need a haircut, new clothes, you will be provided with all your meals, three a day to fuel your vessel. You will study for ten hours a day and train for three. There are no days off, however, some will be easier than others. But no day will be easier than the last. You will learn the basics of seeing the light in your mind’s eye and how to channel that power without restriction. You will be able to use the light for a plethora of tasks that will also get harder and harder. You will learn how to mend broken bones and sew flesh back together. You will learn how to slow your heart beat so as to appear dead while still being completely aware of what's happening around you. You will learn how to move through the air at will, if you so wish. You will learn the arts of offence and defence of battle, both armed and unarmed. You will train your mind and body into a weapon that far exceeds any expectations you could possibly dream of. You will be able to slay countless evils and proclaim the light unto their lands to cleanse them of their darkness. But first you will have to train your mind to be able to manifest and manipulate the light. You will break bones and shed blood, no more than your tears and sweat'. Thorn looked up at Talix who was now fastening some of the leather straps to the piece of metal through holes he formed himself with the touch of a glowing finger. Thorn noticed he closed his eyes to do such a small task in comparison to the power he knew Talix possessed. Thought nothing more of it and continued to listen. Talix went on for nearly a whole hourglass. Only stopping to inspect his work.

The expectations and tasks that he was expected to complete made him feel like he was in over his head and he hadn't even gotten off the bed yet. Feeling more like a strict militant occupation rather than an educational and training program Talix seemed to indicate at the beginning. But Thorn never wavered once while taking in the new way of life he had chosen. For no matter any fate that was chosen for him, nothing could be worse than what he had come from.

Finally, Talix looked up from his spontaneous project and gave a nod of satisfaction. He made to move from his chair and come to the right side of Thorn. Who was deep in thought about all he had learned and all that was expected of him. So much so he was startled when he felt Talix pick up his sickened hand and started to fix the metal cup over his severed hand and used the straps up his arm to fasten it there. 'There, that should do for now. It'll serve its purpose for now anyway. We can make it better later on. But for now, this will suffice.'

'Is it not good for people to see?'. Thorn asked with the quivering voice of a child who knew his disfigurement would forever make him an outcast.

'People fear what they do not know. They don't understand therefore they want to kill it, so it doesn't confuse them anymore. It's often easier to remove a problem than it is to solve one. No one has ever seen this type of thing before, so people will fear you for it. It's best to leave their minds at rest. Let them think they know what is below the cover. For that is a much safer option than if they knew the truth'.

Thorn nodded his head in understanding. He didn’t fully understand, but he knew he trusted Talix and trusted he wanted the best for him. So, he resigned himself to having this metal cover on his arm for the rest of his life.

Talix could see that Thorn was growing weary, as his eyes started to sink into the back of his skull. A thought suddenly struck Talix. Shaking Thorn to stir him from his slowly encroaching sleep. Thorn felt like a heavy blanket had been pulled off him and he was blinking the tired away while trying to focus on Talix. When he did, he saw there was pain or sadness in his eyes. Thorn just kept staring, too scared to ask anything. But then Talix finally broke his silence. 'I've forgotten one thing. Well, I've been holding one thing off until just now.' A moments pause, to think over how best to break the news to Thorn. 'Every so often, were going to have to... remove. Some of the arm to keep the progress slowed. If we have found only one thing in these weeks. It’s that, the more mass the sickness has to feed on, the faster it grows. We will have to systematically amputate sections of your arm or else it will have too much to feed on and grow much faster than we anticipate. Then. Once the dead flesh is removed, I will put a freezing ward on your arm guard. That will maintain an extreme cold that we have found somewhat slows the spread. You won't be able to feel the cold for I will also ward your flesh in that area. You'll know you need another one when you start to feel the icy burn of your arm guard on your skin. They should ware out at roughly the same time. So, we won't have to do too many sessions. But leave it too long and we will lose precious time. Your time'. Talix walked back to a hidden drawer in the wall that opened once depressed with a push. Pulled out a bulbous phial with a thin neck and stirred the glittery frost like blue substance. Then he grabbed on to Thorns forearm and closed his eyes. Mumbled a mantra a few times and then whilst still holding on to his arm. Talix tipped a single drop from the phial on to the metal cup like object. Then with a rush of words released his arm and then waved his hands over the drop of blue liquid. Keeping his eyes closed the whole time Talix spoke a new mantra where some words sounded familiar, where some where more a humming noise than actual words. Thorn stared at the scene. Then with wide eyes he watched that single blue drop, physically absorb into the metal. As if it were a drop of rain on a linen shirt. Then the metal started to frost over from the point the drop was placed. Frost encroached outwards at all angles. Growing thicker as time went, until it finally met itself on the other side of the guard. The frost grew thicker and thicker until it looked like one giant icicle. Then, it stopped growing. Stabilised, and then with a sound like glass shattering, the frost broke away from the guard and fell to the ground just like normal snow would. Leaving behind a shining arm guard that had a slight blueish hue to it, depending on what angle the light hit it. 'How’s that?' Talix asked. 'I-I don't feel a thing!'. 'Good, that means my wards worked. If you touch that guard for too long, it will burn your flesh. Only the skin from below where I held you is protected. Keep this in mind, please'. 'I will' came the reply from a now exhausted Thorn. 'You may rest now, and rest well young Thorn. You will need your energy in the coming days, weeks and years. Things are only going to get harder from here'. But Thorn didn't hear these last words. Once he was given permission to sleep, hardly three heart beats had passed before his breathing had become deep and regular. Thorn also missed Talix struggling to his feet as he held on to his temples whilst trying to stabilise himself on a wooden chair that was close by. He also missed an exchange between student and master.

A deep booming, resounding voice came from the corner of the room 'He has much to overcome if he is to wield the power of the light. Much work is to be done. We will start immediately.' The corner of the room shimmered slightly as the imposing figure of Drakon materialised, stepping out from behind the spell that was broken by movement and speech. 'He still needs rest; his body hasn't nearly recovered from the last 6 years of trauma and torture.'

'His mind has survived through all this without any apparent repercussions. Let's hope that continues. Let him rest for now. But when he awakes of his own accord. We shall begin.'

Talix looked up at his master. 'You're sure he is the one?'

'There can be no other. I knew the instant I looked into his eyes. It was confirmed with how well his mind has held up and how he took on his new role as student so quickly. Forsaking everything, he has ever known so quickly. His fortitude is what will carry him. His training is what will keep him alive. We have little time to dawdle. We start when he wakes.' With that Drakon left the room by opening the door with his mind and letting it close itself behind him. Talix wasn't certain. But he was sure the eyes that looked up at him from the bed and the eyes that looked down on him from his master where two in the same.