As it grew dark, Luca began to wonder if he’d made the right choice. If he went home now, there’d be a hot meal awaiting him, his own bed, his books, his brother.

But not his sister.

His stomach turned and he wasn’t hungry any longer.

Maybe it had only been a mistake, a misunderstanding. Flavius couldn’t have killed Rory. Not their little slipstream. Not their baby sister.

Blue eyes red from tears flashed in Luca's mind. No, it wasn't a misunderstanding.

Luca leaned against Solaris’s white stone wall. Home wasn’t an option. How could he ever live under the same roof as his sister’s killer? He wouldn’t get far without money, though, and he didn’t have any practical skills to speak of. Flavius was the one who knew the ways of the world. Lightguards were elite, but they still had to know how to survive in the wilderness. Luca was a noble-born scholar and a teacher.

The clanking of armor startled him into alertness. Under one of the street lamps were two Lightguards. They were looking at him, walking towards him.

“Luca?” one called. He recognized the man: one of Flavius’s friends. “Your brother’s worried about you. Come on home.”

Luca’s hands formed into fists. “He killed Aurora, Nico.” The guards wouldn’t believe him, but he had to try. “He killed her.”

Surprisingly, Nico nodded. “I’m sorry for your loss, Luca.”

Didn’t anyone care? Didn’t anyone besides Luca care that his brother had killed their twelve-year-old sister?

“Tell that murderer he’s no brother of mine,” Luca spat. “I will never go back to his house.”

“Luca, you’re not thinking straight.” Nico sighed.

Luca snarled, threw a burst of flame at the two– carefully aimed so it wouldn’t hurt them– and ran for the gate. He made it through moments before it closed. Nico and the other guard banged into it, shouting.

That was that. There was no going back now, even if he’d wanted to.

No money. No family name. No skills. No friends. No one who would ever believe him. No one who would stand up to a Lightguard captain, even if they believed him, no one who would risk defying the Emperor.

Or was there?

If anyone would be willing to help Luca get justice for Aurora, it would be the Darkness, the rebels notorious for refusing to accept the Emperor’s light.

Luca swallowed and began walking into the night, his path lit only by a flame in his hand. As he walked, he reached into a pocket, pulled out the license with his name, picture, and authorized types of magic, and burned it. The ashes fell from his hand, scattering in the breeze.

Three days later, Luca stumbled into a town, dirty and starving. He got out some story about being ambushed by bandits and collapsed.

He awoke in a bed, with a demon woman sitting beside him laying a wet cloth over his head. “Rory!”

The woman pushed him back down gently. “Sir, please calm down. Are you alright?”

Luca fell back. “Who are you?”

“Angela.” She rearranged the cloth. “Do you feel like eating anything?”

“No.” 

Luca’s stomach loudly protested this decision. Heat rose to his cheeks.

Angela laughed. “I’ll get you something that’ll go down easy. What’s your name?”

“Lu–” He cut off. If he gave his real name he’d be sent back. Locked up to wait for his brother. But Luca was a common enough name, wasn’t it? “Luca.”

“Just Luca?”

“Luca… Lasair.” Flame, a basic, simple name for a fire demon.

“Well, Luca Lasair, let’s get you back on your feet.”

Luca spent three days there. One day recovering, and two more doing what he could to repay Angela and her family for their efforts. Then he left.

Flavius had talked about going to “thin out” the Darkness. But he hadn’t left that week, and Luca knew from experience that it took a week or more to finalize the details for these kinds of missions. Hopefully Flavius hadn’t left yet, because following him, or anyone else who got sent, would be Luca’s best chance to find the Darkness. 

Angela insisted on sending him with food. Luca thanked her and set off again.

Staying warm in the early autumn nights was more difficult than he’d expected. Just having fire wasn’t enough, if he simply lit a pile of sticks they’d sputter out quickly or start a bigger fire. Luca hadn’t tried building a fire after the first night he was alone.

He tried again, keeping Angela’s instructions in mind, and managed to build a campfire that was still embers by morning. Luca beamed and used the embers to toast some bread and eggs.

They came out covered in ash and ruined. Luca growled in frustration and accidentally flared the fire, turning the bread into charcoal. He threw the ashy eggs on the ground, where they splattered into bits.

Luca scooped his bag up and continued on without eating.

This time, he knew where he was going, so it only took him a day and a half to get back to Solaris. He waited there, outside the city, as the day wore on.

How were his students faring? The kids he helped teach to master their magic, how were they managing since he left? Did they miss him? Did they have new tutors already?

Did the teachers and students at Rory’s school miss her? Did any of them know what had happened to her, or had Flavius lied to them?

Luca wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Not after Nico’s reaction.

Nico had been in their lives since Flavius joined the Lightguard at sixteen. He’d seen Luca and Rory grow up, he’d come over for dinner, invited them to events at his house, his children had played with Rory. How could he not care?

And if he didn't care, would anyone else? Would the Darkness?

Luca was so lost in thought he nearly missed when the gate opened.

It wasn’t Flavius. It was another team entirely, made up of guards Luca didn’t recognize. He tried to sneak closer. A branch snapped under his foot. Luca froze.

One of the guards glanced around, seeming unbothered. She said something to the leader, who laughed, and the group continued on.

Once they were well ahead of him, Luca set off after them. He stayed well back, hurrying forward occasionally to make sure they were still in sight. 

They got to a town. The Lightguards went to a fine inn, the sort Luca had stayed in once or twice when traveling with his parents, back when they were alive.

Luca had no money. There was a time, he reflected, when that would not have mattered. He could have gone in, told them his name, showed his license as proof, and the bill for his stay would have been sent to the Fiorecato estate. He’d never even have seen how much it cost.

Oh, it was tempting to do just that now and let Flavius be saddled with the bill. But even if he still had his license, it would be counterproductive: Flavius would know where Luca had gone, and the Lightguards would probably realize too.

He tried to sneak into the stable, thinking he could rest in the hay, or straw (weren’t they the same thing? Why were there two words for it?). A stable worker found him hours later, stared for a moment, and ran off.

Luca left, his pride prickling. He couldn’t even sleep in a stable. These damn horns– if he were human or fae, would anyone even bat an eye at it? Or was it just because he was a demon, and demons were supposed to be better than that?

Life was ridiculously hard without money. Luca had expected some hardship: no clean clothes, since he couldn’t buy them; no good food without money to pay a chef; no comfortable accommodations, since those cost money too. He hadn’t expected this much hardship. No food at all unless he scavenged for scraps. The feeling of filth on his skin, the inability to clean himself unless he waited for it to rain. No shelter at all except trees and alleyways.

And adding to it all were the stares. Wherever he went, eyes strayed to him. Or, more accurately, to his horns. They were red, like many fire demons’ horns, crimson curves over his head unable to be hidden. But demons simply weren’t beggars. It was unheard of. Every eye on him seemed to ask, what happened? 

Luca tried to stay unseen, both for the sake of his pride and so that he could follow the Lightguards without them realizing it. If they saw him even twice, they’d realize.

In the end, Luca didn’t find the Darkness. The Darkness found Luca.

But the Lightguards caught him first.