The jerking around that he'd done in his attempt to escape made the hammer strike harder, but it was landing on the ground that caused the lightning to strike through his head, jarring his entire body; the wave of nausea to rise in Tomas once more; and the spots to dance across his vision, half-blinding him in the moment of impact.

   "GET BACK IN HERE, YOU'RE GOING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED!" the man's voice shouted from within the tent, tossing any chances of him escaping unnoticed out of the window.

   Despite the pain that ailed him, the weakness of his legs, and the terrible pain in his head, Tomas let out a laugh, a hysterical sound that he shoved all of his pain into, hoping to get it all out of his system. As he did, the lunch he'd eaten earlier came back up. Tomas quickly coughed and spat it out.

   Now that he was outside, Tomas could see just how bad the storm was. Black and dark grey clouds reached out as far as his eyes could see, blotting out the sun and sky and plunging the world in darkness. If it were still noon, Tomas would've been oblivious to the fact because of the storm. Wind howled in his ears and pelted him with harsh rain that even dug into the injury on his head. Lightning seemed to strike every second, multiple even striking at once occasionally. By its light, Tomas could see the landscape around him. His heart soared as he saw that they were only on the outskirts of Vadera.

   The darkness and pouring rain made it hard for him to see and hear, but Tomas still managed to make out the silhouette and voice of the woman he'd met earlier. She stood barely a few yards away from him and a large person stood near her side. Her voice was loud enough for Tomas to hear and make out the words of even through the howling of the wind, the torrent of rain, and the haze that settled over his mind.

   "Oh, look, another person is trying to escape! Hugo, stay here and watch over everyone else, I've got 'em!" her voice said, sounding awfully cheerful. Her words sent chains flying at his soaring heart, chains that quickly wrapped themselves around it, chained it down to the ground, and pulled it deep into the abyss of terror and hopelessness. She was the Caliendo.

   Though Tomas had hated it before, had fought to think, see, and hear normally before, he now embraced the fog in his mind, wishing that it would drown his pains, thoughts, and everything. Without hesitation, Tomas took off running, flying away from the Caliendo with only one thought in mind: escape.

   Tomas's long legs carried him far, but the lightning that struck through his mind with every jolting step took a toll on him. Tomas had barely made it to the first building when he felt a hand tighten around his wrist. Though Tomas tried to use his momentum to throw himself forward, to break free from the grasp, it was as tight as iron shackles and a terrible coldness suddenly struck through his arm. A piercing yell escaped Tomas as the shock flew through him, as his arm disobeyed his will, and as he was yanked back and thrown back onto the ground.

   When Tomas hit the ground, another, sharper jolt of lightning struck through his head, getting a bloodcurdling shriek to erupt from his lips. His vision completely spotted over for a moment, going completely black, but it mostly cleared after a beat. Being vaguely aware of the grip releasing his wrist, Tomas slowly rose to his feet, his head lowered as he did. But, as defeated as he looked, Tomas wasn't ready to give up yet.

   There was now a constant, sharp throb in Tomas's head, a pain that almost blinded him and overwhelmed him, but Tomas fought through the pain and the murkiness, far beyond being able to be reasoned with. Slowly, Tomas rose his head, meeting the shocking eyes of the Caliendo with a fierce glare.

   A wide, grand smile was on the lips of the woman. Lightning struck not too far away from the two, illuminating her face and showing the look in her eyes that was oddly akin to pride. "Oh, Liaeru, it was obvious that you were stubborn, but I hadn't imagined you'd be this resilient!" she cried. If Tomas were in a clearer state of mind, he would've noticed how she spoke of the goddess of storms, but he wasn't. "You could've really been something if you had just been born luckier."

   The smile fell from the Caliendo's lips as she spoke her last words, a dark and sad expression filling the void it left. "Look... I understand if you don't want to go to jail, I really do, but if you do, I can help you once you're out. You can't have too many years; just one, two, maybe three at most. You can't have done much bad in your life. Please, just go back in there. I'll get a healer to come for you, too, if you want." she said, her words stunning him better than her electricity did.

   Tomas was frozen, staring at the Caliendo in shock, as he took in the meaning of her words. She would... help me? Willingly? an odd feeling that he couldn't quite place, that he hadn't ever felt before, rose in Tomas at the thought. But, the survival instinct kicked back in as a bolt of lightning struck right beside them again, fear filling every corner of his mind.

   "NO!" Tomas shouted, quickly lifting his foot, pulling the pocketknife out of his shoe, and pointing it at the woman. His movements were awkward and jerky. Pure terror filled his eyes, expression, and every fiber of his being. Suspicions pulled at his mind, whispering in his ears and being hammered in his mind along with the pain. She's lying, she has to be. Nobody has ever cared, nobody has reason to! She's just trying to trick me, to make me give up... and she almost did. The thoughts finally brought tears to his eyes, a warmth that fell from his eyes and down his cheeks.

   Pity and sorrow filled the woman's expression as Tomas pulled out the knife and pointed at her. If he'd been in a better state of mind, not been delusional from pain and the cruelty of his life, he would've realized that she understood that he didn't want to hurt anyone, that he just wanted to live and that he'd been through too much to believe that others had any sort of goodness. But he didn't and instead, paranoia, pain, and anguish dictated his every movement.

   The woman looked at Tomas with a deep sadness, but she seemed to quickly take over control of her expression, correcting it and forcing it to look calm, regal, and unforgiving. In that moment, sparks of electricity began dancing around her fingertips. It took hardly a second for electricity to erupt from every other pore of her body, bathing her in light and enough voltage to kill multiple elephants.

   "Don't do this," she said, her voice barely being loud enough for Tomas to hear her. Pain filled her electric-blue eyes, as though she felt what Tomas was feeling. "I know you don't want to fight, so just go back in there."

   Anguish tore at the expression of Tomas as she stubbornly told him to go back again. He couldn't. "Give me one assurance that you won't turn on your word. One," he whispered.

   Though his voice shouldn't have carried to her, the Caliendo seemed to hear him, or rather, read his lips in the light her electricity brought. She paused at his words, hesitating as she tried to figure out something that would assure Tomas of her pure intentions. Her aura of electricity died slowly as she did, despair settling on her expression. "I can't."

   Shaking his head despite the pain it brought, for it was already so incredible that such a small change was insignificant, Tomas replied, "then let me go." Desperation lied in every syllable he spoke.

   But she didn't seem to care.

   "I can't," she repeated.

   And so, Tomas made the worst decision of his life, worse than even the decision to steal the very first time.

   Screaming, Tomas threw himself forward, pointed and angled his knife low, and stabbed the woman in the side of her lower stomach.

   Time seemed to slow in that moment. Tomas felt it as the warmth of her blood seeped into his skin and as electricity flowed with it, stabbing into his fingers and going deep into his skin, shocking him still less deeply than the realization that he'd stabbed her.

   And then, a male voice, Hugo's voice, screamed and pulled Tomas out of the horror of what he'd done, "BEATRICE!"

   Quickly, Tomas stepped back, pulling his pocketknife back with him and looking at the woman, Beatrice, with wide, horrified eyes.

   Despite what he had done and the pain she was likely going through, Beatrice laughed softly, though it quickly transitioned into a cough. Stopping it, she said weakly, "see? Thieves don't have the luxury of morals."

   Reality crashed down right on Tomas's head with those words, another bolt of lightning striking through his head as it hit. His expression twisting in pain, self-loathing, and anguish, Tomas lowered his head and began running, trying to get as far away from her as possible.

   "I'm so, so sorry." he murmured as he passed Beatrice, but sparing her no more seconds, for he knew Hugo was after him. Hot tears trailed down his cheeks as he ran, their warmth being the only thing to help Tomas distinguish them from the rain.

   If you're listening, gods, Juitheya, Orir, Liaeru--ANYBODY, please, help her! If you're truly helping me, STOP! Help her instead, please, Tomas begged as he ran. With that final thought of Beatrice, Tomas dedicated the rest of his energy, the rest of his thoughts, to running as fast as he could and hoping that Hugo wouldn't chase after him.

   Like the rest of his hopes and dreams, they crashed within moments as a hand grabbed at Tomas's shoulder. Tomas fought to break free from the grasp, tried his hardest to escape, but the man's grip was iron and he was already so drained and in too much pain to handle the jerking around of his attempt to escape. And so, he was turned around, forced to face the man who had probably been close friends with Beatrice, if not more.

   Hugo's eyes glared deep into Tomas's, full of a deep anguish, grief, and rage that almost matched Tomas's own suffering. His black hair laid wet and flat on his head, hanging down into his haunted eyes. The man looked demented, past the breaking point and ready to do whatever he could to make Tomas regret what he had done. "You--"

   "I'm sorry," Tomas whispered and, closing his eyes tightly, he forced the hand with his knife forward, shoving it into the man's side. The moment he felt Hugo's grip lighten on his shoulder, Tomas released the knife, broke free from his grasp, and took off running.

   As the grief, despair, self-loathing, and anguish settled in his heart, Tomas lowered his head, running and watching as the bright flash of lightning flashed on the ground under him. His own shadow reached out far in front of him, running like himself, trying to get away from the darkness and horrible things that he had just done.

   But you couldn't run away from darkness when you were the darkness.

   Five different times the lightning struck some place behind him, their booms reaching Tomas's ears and making his head swim as it overloaded his hearing.

   It was Beatrice's, he knew, and probably a signal.

   So she's okay enough to use her power, right? he hoped.

   Assuming that wasn't caused by the gods, mourning her death.

   Praying that the lightning strikes were a signal of Beatrice's, that it meant she was okay enough to live, and that the healer she'd mentioned would get to her and Hugo in time, Tomas ran far, far away.

   He hung his head low as he ran, letting the emotions that haunted him eat at his heart and letting the guilt tear at his mind.

   He ran through the flooded streets, not caring about how soaked he was or thinking about his sketchbook and pencils.

   At least half an hour had to have passed since he'd attacked Beatrice and Hugo before he reached the alleyway of his home, his alleyway, but the minutes passed like seconds to Tomas . Hardly any time had passed for him.

   On shaky, weak legs, Tomas finally slowed to a walk, staggering further into the alleyway.

   As he did, the wrath of the gods finally reached his puny, pitiful existence, and a final lightning bolt struck through his mind, sending a searing pain deep through his entire body, going so far that it even reached deep into his bones.

   He didn't even reach the curtains when he collapsed.