The soldier frantically said, “He’s a mage, a mage! Kill the bas—”

The man barely had time to scream as he was flung through the wall behind him, throwing bricks and dust everywhere, mingled with splattered blood on the outside of the wall. The other soldiers ran out into the street, trying to escape their fate. From the dust, debris erupted outward, taking the remaining soldiers out with bricks and rocks to the chest and heads. Blood spattered the street behind them, and the dust settled on the scene.

However, in the dust and chaos, there were only four bodies.

Zenji walked out to see several people poking their heads out their windows and screaming at the sight. The terror he saw on their faces made him look down, where he noticed the blood. In response, a few tears ran down his face, a low growl of fear and frustration ebbing from his throat. The coldness faded, his normal self returning as quickly as it had been replaced.

I killed them, mother! he thought. Please help me!

The Voice rumbled in his mind. “Well done, Pavalok. Flee and survive.”

Zenji said, sputtering through tears. “I don’t get why you call me Pavalok. That’s not my name, Demon.”

The Voice chuckled. “I am no demon, Pavalok. And that is your name, a name you have yet to earn.”

A bit of anger swelled within his chest and grew. “I am not Pavalok. My name is Zenji Nikasho!” In a wave of air and dust, the buildings closest to Zenji and the alley exit were flattened in an instant, like a wall of stone had smashed into them.

Zenji looked around to see the onlookers flee and cry for help, and this time Zenji couldn’t stop from weeping further, a wail inching out his mouth a small degree.

What am I? Tears streamed from his hot eyes, clearing his young face of dirt in a small waterfall down his cheeks. He bounded back into the alley, nearly tripping on a brick, and ran to find help, find someone whom he could talk to that wasn’t going to kill him if they saw him.

“The gang…maybe—” Zenji said, but immediately shut the thought away. He had only recently freed himself of that burden. A thought of an old friend slowly came to his mind.

Kurinai. Could he help? No, I can’t go to him! I haven’t spoken to him in so very long…not since mother...was taken from me.

“You have none other to flee to, Pavalok.” The Voice said. “It is a sound idea.”

But…

“Go. Now.”

“I haven’t seen him in years!” Zenji said in huffed breaths as he ran, a direction slowly showing the way.

“It’s time you saw a friend for a change. I think you will need him.” The Voice said.

Zenji ran and ran, mind confused having no other excuse, to the house of his friend, Kurinai Masuroto, son of Lord Kiruto of the house of Masuroto, Seat of Council to the Emperor. He would know what to do. Just the idea of it sounded absurd, but Zenji knew Kurinai would listen to him just like before and maybe help somehow, just like he always did. It hadn’t been that long since he’d seen Kurinai, had it?

Zenji continued to dodge through alleys, wary of the soldiers, out for blood now. Streetlamp light flashed into the alleys as Zenji ran past their entrances to the main thoroughfare, trying to find his way to Kurinai’s estate with the direction of least resistance in the maze of alleys.

“Hey kid.” A voice said from an alley he ran past.

Zenji halted to a stop, looking around for the speaker.

“Do not stop, youngling!” The Voice said.

A soldier stood facing him, larger than the previous ones. He was well-built, stronger, and seemed more controlled than the other foot-soldiers from before. The man seemed more well-trained to Zenji, as much as he could tell with the other soldiers he’d seen. And, probably the worst of it, the soldier was not of the general army.

He was a mage killer. The stark-black uniform with crisp, clean fibers, boots to match, told the story. Zenji had only seen one in his whole life.

The mage killer was also holding a sword out, point to Zenji.

Does he know I’m the mage that killed the soldiers? Zenji thought, panic rising in his throat.

“Where you headed in such a hurry?” His voice was dark, a devious tone to it.

“I—” Zenji started to say.

“Get out of there, Pavalok!” the Voice said.

In a panic, Zenji turned and ran, the soldier giving chase. A few more mage killers rounded an alley, moving towards him. Zenji continued to run, trying to find any alley to go down, anywhere to go.

“Did you know,” one of the soldiers yelled as they ran, “killing a soldier is punishable by death?” They neared closer and closer to Zenji, like wolves in pursuit of their next meal.

“Do not look back.” The Voice said, tone firm yet helpful.

Zenji dodged behind a corner, finding a small hole in the brick work and slipped in as quiet as a mouse.

Each breath seemed to come out like a tornado, Zenji’s ears hearing each pulse of his heart and swelling of his lungs. Outside the small cavern of brick and wood, the soldiers paced, trying to figure out where he went, eventually cursing angrily and splitting into two directions.

“Do not move.” The Voice said. “Wait another minute.”

Zenji made no complaint, listening and trying to calm himself. Zenji waited, mind racing, thinking of the men, thinking of this situation, all over a stupid kull fruit and his hungry stomach.

At least I’d still have food if I were still…with them. All my fault…it’s all my fault. Freedom wasn’t worth it.

Zenji tentatively poked his head out of the hole, seeing nothing and hearing nothing. He inched out of the hole, looking around the entryway and feeling the sense of danger fading slowly, like a melting glacier moving over a mountain.

He stood, stretching out his arms, then tried to spot the column of dim light in the distance where he’d find an old friend, hopeful for some help. Then, in more cautious movements, Zenji began to slip through the streets and alleys towards Kurinai’s home—home of the Masuroto family.

The imposing estate was a massive, stone fortress. It looked so big to Zenji that it seemed like it could have covered the whole city. Its marble walls had thick black streaks running through them but not in the columns of the front structure, where their marble was solid white with gold accents along the tops and bottoms that supported the front overhang of the roof. Curved shingles adorned the roof that gleaned a soft gold color in the light of the two moons.

Zenji admired the structure from the street down, peering out of an alley. He couldn’t take the next step. His foot shook, sending slight tremors up his leg from the fear. Thinking about visiting Kurinai reminded him of his mother again. The shaking was minimal, but it was there. The dead soldiers rushed into his mind as well.

I don’t know if I can—

“Youngling, the next step. Cease worrying about the many steps ahead. Just the next one.”

Zenji slowly calmed. Thanks, demon. That was…nice of you.

The night threw light too easily for Zenji to believe. He thought it was so strange that light behaved so differently when there was so little of it everywhere else. Streaks of it would blow across the entryway of the alley as the hanging lanterns of street lamps moved in the wind. Zenji knew that he’d have to get across the street to the fence, but the light was waving all over the place from the windy night, hardly any dark portions of the road to hide in.

But, he ran across anyway.

Zenji bolted to an opening in the fence that had bars and not the marble sections and pulled up flush to the marble just as a few soldiers turned down toward the street. Toward Zenji. If he made the slightest move, his body would show from behind the marble jutting out from the metal portion of the fence.

“Did you see something?” One of the soldiers asked.

“The lamps are blowing about. Probably just a shadow.”

“Well, I suppose.” The soldier walked ahead a bit, eyeing the block of marble Zenji was pushed against.

Just then, another soldier ran from around a corner and yelled for the other soldiers.

“There’s been a disturbance a few sections down! A mage killed four guards! Civilians were injured too!”

Zenji waited a few moments before peering around the marble. The soldiers moved off, following the other one down another street. Zenji sighed, both from holding his breath and from hearing about the lack of civilian deaths. He then climbed the fence and jumped to the soft grass on the other side. He kept low and watched for more guards and ran to the side of the mansion where Kurinai’s room was located. A soft light ebbed from the balcony of Kurinai’s quarters.

Wouldn’t there be more guards? Zenji thought. He felt gratitude for the lack of guards then stood directly under Kurinai’s balcony and grabbed onto one of the many vines that sprawled across the wall and columns and climbed. He looked around the grounds again for good measure.

They must have been called to the main sections of the mansion…I suppose.

Zenji poked his head above the railing to the small balcony that extended out from the window and saw Kurinai sitting at his desk near his bed, reading a book and taking notes. At the same age of seventeen, Kurinai had a great deal more education than Zenji, which was normal for any noble or wealthy family in Control. So, seeing Kurinai reading was no surprise. Zenji continued to watch Kurinai read.

His black hair is shorter now, cut and groomed regularly, he thought. And it’s not nearly as long as mine. Zenji fondled his own black hair that tickled his shoulders through the cloth shirt where there weren’t holes as he flipped it around. Black was the most common hair color of the Controlites. Zenji’s own was not the true black that native Controlites had, like Kurinai had, but a dark brown, indicative of his father’s heritage and genetic influence.

Kurinai is a lot stronger looking, too. Zenji thought. The muscle fitted better with the tailored clothes on Kurinai, making Zenji shrink a bit, not having the definition Kurinai had. Protein being scarce with a lifestyle of running kept Zenji thin, but not defined and well-built.

It’s been over a year, right? Zenji thought. Or longer?

“Longer, Pavalok.”

Zenji took a deep breath. A long, deep breath. He was nervous and sweaty, hesitant to reconnect to a long-time friend, one that was there when it all happened, the death of his mother, when Zenji became homeless and parentless.

Then, he hissed from outside. “Kurinai, can I come in?”

Kurinai jumped, turning to see Zenji. For a mere second, his face contorted in a confused look. Then, his eyes swelled like giant grapes.