Before he reached the basement floor, he had briefly considered why he could hear no one within the house. His heightened senses and perception should have allowed him to hear the whispers of a conversation at the very least, but he only found distinct silence. His query was answered when he saw the shimmering wall dividing him from his uncle and the lone city guardsman, who had conveniently turned his back on the approaching intruder.

Davion watched as his uncle grimaced in pain as the guard pressed a knife into his leg, the invisible wall hindering his moans of anguish from travelling beyond it. Davion walked to the wall, ignoring his uncle's muted cries of pain. He had seen something like this used before; it essentially was just a wall of condensed air, firm but not powerful.

So he pushed his hand through the wall, careful to be as quiet as possible; he needed the element of surprise because as strong as he was, the guards could bite back. The wall was painful to move through, like an electric shock that did not end; it was worse the faster he went, but he couldn't afford to take his time, so he continued to push through.

His uncle had either not noticed Davion or was an outstanding actor because as Davion drove himself through the barrier, his uncle continued staring at the guard, groaning in dull pain.

As his head passed through the barrier, Davion could finally determine what the guard was asking.

"I don't want to do this, Mr Elmdew", Davion watched as the guard twisted the knife deeper into his uncle's leg, "So just tell me where your nephew and the watch are, and I'll make it all stop."

"Syril?" Davion thought as he finally pushed his whole body through the wall.

"Where is he? Where is the watch Mr Elmdew?" another twist of the knife, "Come on, just tell me."

His uncle looked up at his torturer, tears welling in his eyes as pain erupted through his body. He deliberately held the guard's eyes, watching as Davion inched behind him through his peripheral vision.

"When will you just shut up?" his uncle groaned, before spitting into the guard's face, "also, you are in desperate need of a breath mint."

Davion seized the opportunity, plunging the knife deep into the back of the guard's neck as he tackled him to the floor. The guard didn't have a chance to respond before the pool of blood began to form under his body. He let out a slight gurgle and went limp underneath Davion's grip.

Davion got up, dusting off his trousers and then using said trousers to wipe the blood from his hands. He walked toward the chair, pulling the knife from his uncle's leg and using it to cut the ropes binding him.

"Hey there, pops." Davion grinned at his uncle, who was holding his now knifeless leg in a look of wary pain, "fancy seeing you here."

"Yeah, fancy that," his uncle mumbled, closing his eyes and blocking the pain, "you're getting sloppy; I felt you following us from back at the school."

"Oh, you're welcome. Rescuing you really was nothing," Davion muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "it's not like I killed two people to save you or anything."

The guard groaned on the floor.

"I don't think he's dead", his uncle muttered, fixing his cufflinks and hobbling out of the chair.

"You don't say," Davion responded, walking over to the body lying in the still growing pool of blood, "He should be dead. So why is he not dead?"

His uncle grabbed his jacket from the floor, scoffing at the blood stains scattered onto it, "I don't know. Maybe you don't know how to put a knife in someone?"

"Uncle, I am perfectly capable of putting a knife into someone's neck," he kneeled over the guard, studying the runes littered across his body, "by the way, salt and cold water will get the blood out nicely."

The guard's eyes opened, his hand flying out faster than Davion could react as he grasped Davion's leg. Suddenly the world was turned upside down as the guard pulled his legs from under him. Blinking through the confusion, Davion looked around the spinning room, which was awash in a strobing blue light as the guard's runes pulsated. He rolled off his back, using the momentum to propel himself away from the guard.

"So you guys are hard to kill," Davion stood up, staring carefully at the guard, who withdrew the knife from his neck with a slight pop.

"We try to be."

The guard ran at Davion, the knife from his neck firmly grasped in his hand. Davion pivoted around him, narrowly missing the blade as it sliced through the spot he had just been.

"That's my knife," Davion said, aghast.

"You stabbed me with it," the guard smiled, slicing through the air with little effort. On occasion, the blade met Davion and left a deep cut. Each incision was like surgery; it hurt like hell without anaesthetic.

Davion clocked the knife he had dropped on the floor. He dived and rolled to it, grabbing the knife on the roll and springing to his feet before immediately pivoting away from the guard's blade.

Honestly, Davion impressed himself.

"Hey, that's my knife." The guard said as he spun and sliced through the spot Davion had just been.

"You stabbed my uncle with it."

Davion now met each of the guard's attacks with one of his own; occasionally, their steel would clash, and sparks would fly. He felt joy with each cut through the air. Despite either of their impending deaths, he was having a great time.

"So, what's your name?" Davion asked as he stabbed at the air, twirling around to sweep his feet, "you know, since we're being intimate and all."

"It's Loch." He replied, jumping the sweep and responding with a high kick to the face that connected, "what yours?"

"Davion." He skipped back, rubbing his face and spitting out some blood, "Do you come here often, Loch?"

"Only when I have to, you know how work is." Loch ran at him again, throwing an elbow with his left arm and immediately following by stabbing with his right.

"Yeah, I get that" Davion grabbed Loch's knife hand and tried to twist the knife away; when Loch held firm to the blade, Davion instead elbowed him in the head before pushing away from him, "what's say we get a drink after this?"

"Are you hitting on me?" Loch stopped dead in his tracks, the blood dripping from his face pooling on the floor below him. He was staring at Davion, wide-eyed and mouth agape. Davion, in turn, blew a kiss and pounced on Loch, using his embarrassment against him.

"Do you want me to be?" Davion asked through cuts and blows, the embarrassed guard now responding in kind.

Loch responded by hurling the knife at Davion, who narrowly ducked its path as it pierced through the air above him. A little offended, Davion sprung up, a quip already forming on his tongue – but he could only watch as Loch extended his now bright red hand, and a truck-like force collided with him.

Davion flew back, the air separating from his lungs, crashing into the basement wall with a sickening crunch. If he hadn't imbued magic into his body before this, he doubted he would have lived through it. As it stood, though, Davion was pretty hurt.

"Ow." He stood up, his legs slightly weak from the impact, and he spat out a tooth, some blood and some rouge concrete. He looked mystified at Loch, who graciously allowed him to at least stand-up.

"Sorry, I really try not to mix work and pleasure." Loch slowly started walking towards him, twirling the bloody knife in his hand like a horrific circus act.

"Bummer…" Davion was having difficulty catching his breath; it had been a long time since he'd fought this, "thought we had a connection."

"It's nothing personal, I promise," Loch said sadly, walking closer to Davion.

"Yeah, but this is."

And he could only grin as the magic he had been pooling into his hand formed a sphere of white-hot energy; Loch's eyes widened in realisation and horror as Davion hurled the sphere into him. It burst into a deafening wall of force and launched him across the room; he collided with the basement wall with such power that it rumbled the foundations of the building. The air where Loch had just been was now popping and simmering.

Davion looked on in astonishment at his power.

"Do you think he's dead?"