Yovan awoke in the cold chamber. He didn't even notice when he fell asleep. Nightmares again troubled him, and his chest was stung with a thousand needles. His magical hunger returned. He lifted himself up into a seating position. Delirious from cold and starvation, he cursed everything about himself. He was weak, he never studied at the academy so his magic and fighting skills were horrible. He was content with doing the lowliest quests his whole life, hunting some small spirits, or some bigger animals. But magical beasts were strong, and the more essence they had, the stronger they were. He couldn't defeat a giant spider without Halia, nor anything else even when he was healthy. Now, he didn't have a chance. How is he going to survive? Why didn't he work harder? Why didn't he study more? Why was he so pathetic? And the struggle in his chest continued. It was an itch, pain, and hunger in one. He needed to find something and fast.

He exited the sewers into a new day. He wasn't sure if it was morning or midday since clouds covered the whole sky. It was easier to look in the sky than around him. A silent, desperate rabble rummaged the ruins of the destroyed city. The only clacking of bricks and stone interrupted the dispassionate sight. Dead eyes, monotone movement, expressionless faces. Profile of every digger. They were searching for survivors they knew weren't there. Yovan pulled his hood over his head. The Warlock was probably still looking for him, he couldn't stay here for long. Hunger bit into his ribs. He grabbed his shoulders as if to warm himself and pushed himself further from the palace.

Who won? Yovan didn't care. He only knew that he lost. He traversed his mind for someone who could help him. Lina and her party! The leader, Myrkoh, seemed so sympathetic towards him, if he explained the situation, Myrkoh would certainly help him. He was that kind of guy. Just, Yovan didn't know where they were. The innkeeper might know, they frequented there. But if Warlock was looking for him, he would likely keep an eye on the inn. He had to risk it. Bones in his chest started cracking when he breathed. He didn't have much time.

The inn was spared from the destruction, but still, it seemed abandoned. Yovan entered the location and saw the lonely innkeeper dusting the tables.

"I guess you've returned to gather your belongings as well? Everyone is leaving this cursed town. Those damn mages… No one rules forever. They'll get what's coming for them one day. Mark my words."

"No. I need information. Do you remember Lina? She has blue hair and is an arcane hunter, and was in a party with a warrior Myrkoh, and two mages. Do you know where I could find them?"

"Of course I remember them. Lucky bastards. They left town ten days ago."

A disaster. Yovan sprinted away without another word. He told her to leave town. It was his fault. Rejoice at your good deed Yovan as it came to bite you in the ass. Who could help him now? There was Diyan. Yovan hunted some giant rats with him a couple of times. He was always ecstatic about adventuring. This was the perfect chance. But he lived on the other side of the city, and Yovan needed to avoid the palace center. He put his hand over his chest and prayed for it to hold on.

Yovan entered the main boulevard, deep in his thoughts, trying to remember where exactly Diyan lived. Men, women, and children wailed and cried for their loved ones, while those with steelier hearts carried the dead and dumped their bodies into piles of carcasses that littered the whole view. Yovan's head was hurting now. Little by hunger, little by laments of the people on the street. Shouts interrupted the constant weeping.

"Lila! Lila!"

Someone grabbed Yovan by the arm. He looked towards the assailant, fist ready, heart racing. It was a broken man. His eyes pleading for sympathy.

"Good Sir, have you seen a little girl with brown hair? She sold flowers here. Please, I can't find her anywhere."

Yovan jerked his hand free.

"No. Go away."

There was no time for distractions. He had to help himself first.

The building where Diyan lived was partly burned. The whole left side was charred but it was still standing. He rushed up the stairs and knocked on his friend's door. A young woman opened it, peeking through the slight opening. It was Diyan's wife.

"Hi, I'm looking for your husband. Where is he? Is he home?"

The woman looked him up and down and continued with a slow, somber voice.

"He's on the street, in some pile. He died yesterday fighting a lava golem."

Yovan burst in manic laughter. The door closed in front of him and he banged it with his head, slowly sobbing. He felt the noose around his neck tighten. He dragged his legs out in the street again. Was he to beg some stranger? His self-respect and honor, what did it mean if he couldn't hold on to them? Could he even find someone at this time? He passed the debris of a building where Moyana lived. She was a good woman. Fixed Yovan's shoes for almost nothing. She was probably dead like everyone else in his life. He groaned and snorted as the craving for magical essence increased. He walked aimlessly, convulsively tapping his chest, desperate to lower the pain. He passed the merchant's square. Every stall was toppled or destroyed. Not even looters managed to take everything lying on the floor. Sausages. Hams. Bacon. Bread. Sweets. Apples. Pears. Grapes. Nothing. Nothing! Nothing!... Nothing to quench his hunger nor relieve his suffering. He screamed and shoved his head into his hands. Why did this happen? He lost so much time... Now, even if he found someone to help him, he would never find a magical beast before he starves. He needed a source of the essence and he needed it fast.

A strange smell filled his nostrils. It smelled like cinnamon mixed with a touch of lemon. It was magic. He was so hungry he could now smell the magic in the air. Wait, if he could smell it, that meant there was some essence around there. He turned his head left and right, searching for the source. It was mages. Of course, it was the mages. How has he been so stupid? There were dead mages in the streets from yesterday's battle. Yovan charged towards one of the piles, like a cornered bull who saw an exit. A brute force embraced him around the waist and stopped him in place.

"Easy boy. You can't go desecrating bodies. Leave the dead alone."

It was a guard. Now he decided to do his job. Yovan prepared his saddest voice and broke into lamentation.

"Please Sir, I think that's my brother's body over there. I have to check! I can't face my Ma if I can't at least find his body for the funeral."

Another guard approached hearing the commotion.

"Let him go. Yesterday was hard on everyone."

Released from the guard's grip, Yovan continued with a hurried pace towards the dead. He rolled over a couple of corpses until he found what he was looking for. The mage had his left arm torn off and his neck was bitten off. He didn't need him in one piece anyway. He turned his back towards the guards and released a magical stream into the dead mage. Nothing happened. It was too late. He was dead for too long, magical essence evaporated leaving only an empty husk. He grabbed his hair and pulled as strong as he could. When he failed to rip out his hair, his arms raged out in a flurry of blows towards the defenseless mage. He cracked the mage's nose and disfigured his jaw. A couple droplets of blood splashed on Yovan's face, but he paid it no attention. Guards stopped him again, pulling him up from the dead body, while he fought on, trying to release all of his fury on the innocent mage.

"Easy son.", said one of the guards. "That is no way to grieve. I understand you're hurt and angry, but we can't let you do that. Talk to the priests. They will know how to help you."

"The priests!" In a second Yovan turned jubilant again. He looked to the guard as if his mind was blank and he just learned a new word. "The priests could help me! They help people, it's their duty!"

Guards shared a confused look. They didn't seem comfortable around him anymore.

"Yes, they could help you."

Yovan pushed himself free and ran towards the temple. The two guards stood motionless before shrugging off the strange fellow from their minds.

There was a huge crowd in the temple. Everyone hoped to give some peace to their deceased loved ones. Yovan couldn't see a single priest in this crowd, not a single one, and he didn't have the time like the rest.

"We have a live one here! A live man needs a priest!"

Everyone turned towards Yovan. All gave him disapproving looks, some even hushed him. Ah, if only they could understand his pain, they would realize how insolent they were right now.

"Please, I don't have much time! I need a priest!"

Finally, a priest appeared from the mass of people. He raised his arms and placated the disapproving crowd. With the grace of a swan, he approached Yovan and motioned him to sit on the bench.

"Tell me, what problem do you have that requires my help?", asked the priest as he sat beside Yovan.

The hunter stared at him, considering the best way to ask for help.

"I need your magical essence."

The priest was taken aback by the request. He blinked several times before he made a gentle smile towards Yovan.

"I am afraid that isn't possible. It's not something one can give."

Yovan grabbed him by the robe and pulled him closer.

"You don't understand! I'm dying! You priests have life and water essence and you've sworn to help people no matter what! I don't know if I can survive 'till tomorrow morning without it. You have to help me!"

Strong pain in the back of his head knocked him over. There was only muffled speech around him and a sense of floating. When he came to, three men threw him out of the temple, one stealing a shove in Yovan's back.

"Please be gentle!", said the priest. "I'm afraid that after yesterday there will be more people like him."

Yovan rose to his feet and smiled coldly at his attackers. He sauntered silently away. He felt the air in his breath being slowly pulled down into the abyss in his chest. He walked until the light started fizzling out from the sky. He fell to the ground, his back against the wall, and spread his arms next to his body, a man with nothing to live for. He started humming a lullaby. It was an old lullaby his mother sang to him when he was a kid. But he needed someone to put to sleep, you can't just sing a lullaby without anyone to put to sleep! He turned his head and saw the most wondrous sight. He lifted a brick that lied down near the damaged part of the wall, placed it in his arms, and gently cradled while humming his favorite lullaby. When the brick calmed down, he gently put it beside him. There is always time for a good deed. That's what he learned today.

"Here, son, eat this."

A beggar stood beside Yovan. He wore torn, dirty garments, but no shoes. His whole legs were covered with blisters and scars that never healed properly. In his hand, he offered moldy, spotty bread.

"These are difficult times. People are too busy with their own worries, there is no room for a little sympathy for us. We have to help each other."

Yovan took the bread and brought it closer to his mouth. He stopped and cursed himself for his lack of manners. He lowered his hood and thanked the beggar properly. But the beggar jumped back and cried out with horror.

"Your eyes! What is wrong with your eyes?!?!"

He just ran away. Not waiting for Yovan's response, nor explaining how his eyes looked. Were they swollen? Did they sink into his head? Was life sucked out of them? Yovan took a bite of bread and munched it down. It didn't have any taste. As he ate the ordinary bread, he felt a prickle in his neck. Just above the chest. He scratched the place but it didn't help. In fact, prickling got stronger. And then it started migrating. Up against the neck, through the jaw, into his head. It transformed into a stabbing, excruciating pain that swelled up and down his whole view, his whole mind. It pulsated. It pulsated. It pulsated like a shimmering light of the star that grew as a parasite in his brain. It pulsated like a vein of a human that a vampire bit into, and was sucking him dry through it. He wanted to scream but the effort shivved through his temples, hemorrhaging his will to live. He started to cry. He couldn't take it anymore. It all started with that stupid quest. With that stupid ghost in the barn…

Yovan fought with the pain, as he wrestled with the idea that was blooming in his mind. This wasn't over. He grabbed the wall and pulled himself up. Step by step, he moved towards the city exit.

It was midnight when he arrived at Drashko's barn. He just washed in the river to remove any scent, but the cold water eased his pain as well somewhat. He sneaked until he reached the building. He distinctly heard the breathing of sleeping animals. He cast an invisibility spell and muffle, covering up any noise that he might make. He opened the door, and with hungry eyes and a dirty grin, he saw his salvation. Twelve unicorns slept peacefully on the floor. Unicorns had a low amount of magical essence, but there were twelve of them, so it should be enough. Yovan pulled out his dagger and sneaked up to the unsuspecting animals. The nearest was a large unicorn with a powerful horn. The place where the life magic essence was stored. Unicorn's chest slowly expanded and collapsed, while it breathed slowly. Yovan observed it with glee. Mirth danced in his eyes, which would suddenly get interrupted by instances of pain. He cast another muffle, this time on the unicorn so that his dying sound won't wake others. He slammed the dagger into the unicorn's neck and with a quick movement, sliced it open. The animal woke for a second, looked Yovan in the eyes, and gasped. All life dissipated from it together with thick, red blood that poured down into the floor. Like an impatient child, Yovan poured the magical energy into the unicorn's horn. He felt the apeiron cracking and flow of life essence engulfed him. The pain didn't stop but he felt it ease for a moment. With mad craving and greed in his eyes, Yovan moved to the next target. He finished it with ease. Then came the third. And the fourth.

When he took the essence of the last unicorn, Yovan smiled with ease. All the pain, the collapsing chest, the stabbing in his mind… All evaporated like the morning dew. He slid into the floor, laughing without a sound. He felt like an angel on his day off. Just enjoying the paradise. He looked down and the sight cleared his smile. Twelve unicorns, side by side, lying in a pool of blood, unmoving. His left hand twitched. He remembered Drashko. He was a tough man. Tough, but fair. And kind. He didn't deserve this. Yovan felt pain in his chest again. Not possible. It couldn't be the hunger. No, his heart pounded with all its might. He bit his fist. He had to do it, he had no choice. But what hurt was that to an ordinary person, nothing was missing from the unicorns. Their meat wasn't taken for consumption. Their horns weren't taken for medicine. They just lied there, with their throats slit open, everything accounted for, a work of a madman. No. Or a psychopath. No. Or a satiated beast, with no intelligence, except the instinct to kill. Or a despicably cruel man, enjoying the torture and reveling in death. Or a power-hungry warlock, sacrificing everything for a touch of power.

"No! No! No! No! No!", Yovan screamed as muffle wore off. His hands on his ears, shaking his head convulsively, trying to calm his beating heart. All the animals in the barn awoke at this point. They mooed at him. And baaed at him. And neighed at him. And derided him. And mocked him. And judged him…

"No! No! No! Nooo!!!!", Yovan burst into tears and ran out of the barn as the voices of animals merged into a cacophony of contempt. Yovan just ran. His hands waving and swinging in all directions. He cried more, his mouth open, tears streaming down his face. Never bothering to wipe them. Still, he ran. Into the night. Far away. For as long as he could. Just to get away. From the Warlock. From himself. From everything he became. From everything, they turned him into. If he just slowed down, he would understand that there was nowhere he could run away. But he didn't slow down. And he didn't stop for several hours. He just dropped to his knees. Exhaustion overwhelming the guilt. The mages. It was all their fault. They turned him into this. They destroyed everything. They didn't care about anyone else. He looked to the sky. Stars shone brightly, unreachable to anyone. Just as the mages were unreachable to him. He rose towards them and yelled at this simulacrum for his enemies.

"You fucking mages! I'll kill you! I'll kill you all! Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday you will see my face and it will be the last thing you will ever see. I'll make you pay for everything! I will destroy you!"

And with his last word, Yovan collapsed to the ground. Exhaustion taking its toll. Sleeping tightly with his head in the mud. No beast, nor man dared approach the raving madman that slept dormant in the field.