Pain greeted him before light.
It started as a dull pulse behind his eyes, then flared down his spine like hot coals sliding across bone. Every breath hurt. His mouth tasted of iron. His vision wavered dim shapes in flickering torchlight, shadows bent at odd angles.
He blinked.
The floor. Blood-stained. His blood.
He turned his head. Saw boots. Three of them. Standing around him like dogs waiting for a bone to twitch.
Then the fourth appeared.
The one with the silver wolf clasp. The one with the smile.
"Ah," the man said, "welcome back."
Alex didn't speak.
He couldn't. His jaw felt broken. He could barely keep one eye open, the other sealed shut with dried blood. But he focused everything on the man's face. The smugness. The indifference.
"You're a resilient little worm," the man said, crouching. "Most don't survive Gorrin's hammer. But you're not most, are you?"
He tapped the air beside Alex's face, as if pondering.
"Do you know why I'm here?" the man asked softly. "Hmm?"
Alex managed a grunt.
The man smiled wider.
"I was paid to take your mother," he said. "Years ago. No questions asked. A little village job. She cried, of course. Begged. But work is work. And I'm good at mine."
He leaned closer, breath warm and sour with wine.
"But now\... I'm curious."
His fingers reached into his coat, pulled out a small crystal orb, and rolled it toward Alex. "This little toy says your mana signature's changed. You're not just some gutter rat anymore. So what happened, boy? What woke you up?"
Alex stared at the orb. His limbs wouldn't move. Rage flared behind his ribs, impotent and boiling.
"I have a theory," the man said, standing. "That you've got something ancient in your blood. Sleeping dragon, maybe? Or something worse?"
He nudged Alex's ribs with his boot. Alex didn't scream. He wouldn't give him that.
"Pity you're too broken to be useful now."
Gorrin the one with the club grunted. "Should I finish 'im?"
The man in black waved a hand.
"Nah. Let him die here. Slowly. Let him think about what he lost."
He walked over to Mia's body.
Alex's blurred vision sharpened.
No. No.
Don't.
The man crouched beside her, turned her head like inspecting a sculpture.
"She was a pretty thing," he said. "If she were older, I'd have kept her alive."
Laughter.
Gorrin snorted. "Didn't stop Thass. He took her first."
Alex's vision went red.
He moved.
Didn't think. Didn't feel.
His arm shot up, dagger still clutched in trembling fingers. He lunged like a starving animal, all bones and fury, straight for the man in black's throat.
But the man didn't even flinch.
He moved faster than Alex could see.
A boot slammed into Alex's face. He hit the wall. Something cracked inside his chest. He tasted blood and teeth.
"Still got some fire, huh?" the man said, brushing his coat clean. "You'll make a fine ghost."
Alex tried to rise.
His body didn't obey.
The torchlight dimmed. He couldn't tell if the shadows were getting longer or if he was slipping under.
The last thing he saw was the man walking out.
That same smile on his face.