“Thank you, peasant boy, for apprehending my new slave.” The fat man praised, though the words bounced of occupied ears, Apple did not even hear his words or notice that the man now stood before him.

“Oh, come now, Master Henderson. No need to praise that lout. In fact, I saw him put a filthy hand of his on your new toy. You would not praise a maid who dirtied your new vase with her common fingers now would you Master Henderson.” The robe man asked his companion, as he also now stood beside the fat man known as Master Henderson.

“You are quite right, my Lord. I must have been spending too much time among the commoners these days. Made me a little soft, I believe so.”

“Think nothing of it, Master Henderson.” He remarked as he placed his palm on top of Master Henderson’s shoulder.

“I shall, my Lord. Thank you for insightful words. However, I do believe this peasant at least deserves to be forgotten from our minds. Let us grab the girl and be on our way.”

“As you wish, Master Henderson. I am merely your guardian and aid in this scene.”

“You are too modest, my Lord. Were it not for you, who knows if I would have been able to capture my prize?”

“True enough,” the robed man causally agreed. “You do, however, at least have the assistance of the city guards.”

“Ah yes, I had forgotten about them. Guards! Grab the girl and let us be on our way.” He ordered with a snap of his fingers. Almost immediately, Apple felt the presence of two heavy sounding men walk past him. He was not sure when they arrived, they had most likely been with the two richer men since the beginning, Apple was simply too preoccupied with the flashy robe and what it foretold to notice.

“Get on out of ‘ere lad. Go find an apothecary or someone to tend to that hand of yours.” One of the guards commanded Apple.

Apple was almost too scared to move. He had actually forgotten the pain and bleeding he suffered, even though he had been staring at his hand throughout the whole conversation between the men. He was too afraid to look up. Terrified of locking gaze with the robed man. There was good chance the man was capable enough to see what most could not see, behind the boring grey of Apple’s pupils.

Deciding it would be worst to stay, he slowly rose where he knelt and shuffled away, never once raising his head.

“Wait!” A man cried. Apple looked back: “You forgot your walking stick.” The guard who told him to leave said, as he held Apple’s staff in his hand.

Apple cursed internally. How could he forget something so important? Worst of all, by forgetting it, he had drawn attention to it.

“Thank you, Sir.” Apple mumbled as he took his staff from the unusually thoughtful guard. Not many people would inform someone about their forgetting of a stick. Perhaps he just hated litter.

“No problem, lad. Surprisingly heavy for a stick, it is. Feels like I’m holding an iron club in my hand.” Apple nodded in response and took off in his previous direction, before anyone more conversation could start.

“Halt.” A loud nasally voice commanded.

“What is the matter, my Lord?” The fat man asked, confused at his companion’s manner.

“Forgive me, Master Henderson, I have not walked upon the common streets of Pier in quite some time. Enlighten me, Master Henderson, is it the new fashion for commoners to hold such long sticks betwixt their fingers?” The robed man asked, trying to meet Apple’s gaze even though Apple still had his lowered.

“No, my Lord. This is the only such case I have witnessed a man holding a branch. Perhaps a crude walking stick?” Master Henderson suggested.

“A walking stick?” He hummed, with his long fingers placed upon his chin, stroking his elgent clefted chin. “Surely not. This lout of foul smell has neither stumbled, groaned, wobbled, or so much as limped. Nay, he may have walked away with the knotted back of fear but I detected no pain nor deformity in his steps...Tell me, boy, why do you carry such a large twig?”

It felt as if hail was crashing down onto Apples forehead. Ice cold droplets of fear trickled down his face and nestled in his stubble. What should he do? What could he do?

“It is as the Master suggested, My lord. Tis a walking stick and nothing more. I had aches from my travels, but I’m almost better, my Lord.” Apple explained, doing his best to prevent his voice from cracking.

“I see...Humour me then, boy, why is the top of your stick so tightly wrapped in twine? Why did the guardsman say it was so unusually heavy? Why is it that walking stick of yours has such a queer aura?”

The air became heavy. It seemed all the moisture in Apple’s mouth was now raining down his body.

He stared at the robed man twenty feet in front of him, still doing his best to not directly meet his stare. It had occurred to him that his catalyst would give off a queer aura, Apple just assumed and hoped the aura would be so weak that only magicians intentionally looking for it would see it. It would seem this particular magician was. Apple’s staff gave of an aura akin to the fading warmth of charcoal, the polished stick, held in the robed man's fingers was more akin to a fresh flame.

Just before Apple could come up with an excuse, the girl held in one of the guard's arms awoke with a furious intensity. As soon as her eyelids loosened, she howled and flailed, thrashing her small body.

“Fuck!” The guard holding her cursed as he tried to constrict her limbs. A poor action on his part. As soon as he had successfully locked her behind her back, her head lunged upwards and bit down on his nose. He screamed.

All eyes were now on the scene of a grown man spinning around wildly while a painfully skinny girl held onto his nose with her teeth, like a fish on a hook. Never one to waste a spontaneous distraction, Apple sprinted away from the group of people.

“Get her off me! Get her off me!” The guard begged, while the other guard was trying to do just so.

“My lord, can you do something?” The fat man asked, still doing his best to be polite while he was obviously panicked.

If the robed man had heard him, he did not show it. His small blue eyes were focussed upon the fleeing fruit.

“Potiagin gwy minum gar, worden veltai ond fli gen!” The robed man bellowed, with the wand in his hand pointed directly at Apple.

Apple was fortunate the robed man casted his spell so loudly, while volume does help cast spells, it also makes it incredible obvious to fellow magicians what they are casting. Even to Apple’s barely trained ears, he easily recognised the basic air spell: wind arrow. As soon as he heard the loud overlapping echo of an incantation, Apple began his own. “Potiagin worden barra a styter ond...“ Before whispering the final word, he spun on his heel, aiming his staff at the robed man. “Cingo.” He flourished, with the final word of the spell being declared.

The twine bound around his staff was torn to shreds by an invisible force as soon as the last word left his lips. A breath before the invisible arrow was about to strike Apple, his spell activated. Wind wall. Another basic air spell that was a must for all magicians to learn.

From the tip of his amber came a raging spiral of wind. A spiral large enough to cover Apple from head to knees in a shield of gales. The wind arrow was torn apart by the raging current and instead of seriously injuring Apple the attack was only left with a gust of air strong enough to wobble his hat.

“Well, well, well. What brings a sorcerer to my humble city?” The robed man asked with mock politeness.

“Oh, you know... Seagulls.” Apple replied as his spell came to its end.

“Seagulls?” He repeated in confusion.

“Yes, seagulls. Big white birds with yellow beaks. You must be spending too much time in your cosy manner, my lord if you have yet to witness the sight of a majestic gull.” Apple replied, his confidence returning after managing to block the fellow magicians attack fairly easily.

“What the bloody abyss are you talking about?” The robed man spat.

“You got wax in your ears? Gulls, good Sir, gulls. Nature’s mischievous flying paupers.”

“My Lord! I do not wish to interrupt, but the girl has escaped.” The fat man moaned, interrupting the two magic wielder’s seemingly mundane conversation.

“Silence fool!” The robed man roared. “I care not for the new target of your perversions. I have a much more urgent matter at hand.

“Oh my, I’m flattered.” Apple replied with a flamboyant bow to further show his appreciation for the compliment.

“What happened to the cowering lout from a moment ago? Do not tell me that this newfound boldness comes from blocking such a novice spell?” He chuckled.

“Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was a bit of a confidence booster.”

The robed man smirked grotesquely, his lips forming deep black creases. “It appears that I am being underestimated. Allow me to rectify that.” He continued to speak but Apple could no longer hear the man’s words. He once again aimed his wand at Apple. It seemed a fight was inevitable. Unfortunately for Apple, the robed man was now being smart enough to make his incantation unknown.

Unsure on what to do, Apple casted wind wall once more and prepared himself.

Instead of another wind arrow, this time a wild stream of red and orange gushed from the ruby at the tip of the man’s wand.

Apple’s wall held true, but it required a lot more power this time around to shred the torrent of embers. Any fire he managed to divert from himself was quickly replaced by more and more flames. He could feel the heat singe the tip of his hair. The fresh bite wound on his hand began to cauterise and sizzle.

“You are looking a little flush, sorcerer. Where did all that confidence of yours go?” The robed man taunted, as fire continued to pour from his wand.

“Flush, me?” Apple gasped. “I’ve had baths warmer than this.”

His foe laughed, “I would be more inclined to believe your retort if I could not hear your pained breaths and smell the succulent smell of cooking meat. It is unfortunate that my flames are growing so large. Pity they are now hiding that despaired face I am certain you are making.” The robed man moaned with pleasure as his spell continued to attempt to engulf Apple in a righteous fire.

Apple was about to make a witty retort but decided he should focus all of his energy preventing himself from burning to death instead. He was managing to ward of the fire so far but he doubted he could do it for much longer. The wind element was not exactly a great way to block fire, it had a bag habit of feeding the flames making them bigger. Apple was also extremely venerable right now. If a guardsman was still skulking around all it would take is for him to leisurely approach from Apple’s side and causally place their spears in between his ribs. It was times like this when he wished he had put more effort into learning multi-casting, or just casting in general.

“You know, I am only using a fraction of my power.” The robed man boasted as he continued his onslaught.

Apple ignored his words; his eyes however could not help but roll at his foe’s constant need to pat himself on the back. He also continued to pour more and more of his dwimmer into his wind shield, yet even that could only be a short-term solution. Apple doubted he would be able to win a battle of “who hosts the most dwimmer”. A memory flashed in his mind of the first time his dwimmer magnitude was measured. Such pitying looks his mentor had givin him.

“I can feel your shield weakening, sorcerer. It would appear that our bout is coming to its – SHIT!” The robed man wailed. The seemingly never-ending breath of flames ended suddenly with only a brief curse as a warning.

Apple was unsure as to why the magician had stopped his spell, it did not matter, he was not going to miss this opportunity. With the elements still under his control, he flung them back at his opponent. “Thro, thro, thro! O potiagan, fli ener ond fest.” He chimed. The vortex in front of him, engulfed in flames, began to shrink in size. Once it was only the width of a melon did it catapult forward in a haze of twirling inferno. “Thro, thro, thro.” Apple continued to mutter, as the spell darted forward with an increasing speed.

It appeared to Apple that his opponent was not coming up with any rebuttal to this attack. A surprising victory just winds away; Apple was curious as to what was preoccupying the robed man.

His silk-covered back was facing away from Apple and he appeared to be stomping furiously. Even more curious, and slightly insulted, Apple craned his head to the side to try and get a glimpse of what was stealing the man’s attention.

The girl! Her body laid still upon the ground once more. This time however she was under the barrage of a heavy looking black boot.

Apple cancelled his spell instinctively. The fire tornado lost its shape, rapidly becoming diluted in the air. Only fluttering wisps landed on his foes silk robe. Afraid of hitting the girl if he used another spell, Apple charged at the man. Running with an animalistic pace, he erased the gap between them in the time it took for him to take a long-pained breath.

His advisory noticed his silhouette too late. As he turned to face the sorcerer, Apple struck him in the face with his oversized catalyst. The magician and his gaudy robe collapsed to the ground with a wet cracking boom. He now laid directly beside the girl he himself had rendered prone just a moment ago.

Apple stood over the potbellied man. Noticing his eyes still flickered, he drew his hatchet and prepared for the final blow. Sadly, as he was about to make an overhead swing, the whizzing of an arrow darting past his ear forced him to refocus his attention.

“Kill him! Kill the sorcerer!” The fat man screamed. It seemed he had gone and brought reinforcements while they were battling. There had to be at least a dozen guards surrounding the man, some of them holding accused bows.

“What an annoying pig.” Apple said to himself. Not risking the time, it would take to kill the unconscious magician, Apple dropped his axe and scoped the girl into his arm. He at least made sure to step on the robed man’s face as he fled from the guards.

Apple saw all too clearly and heard all too well the arrows fly towards him as he sprinted away. It was a good thing guardsman do not typically get to practice with bows very often. As Apple thought that, he felt a sharp sting on his arm and saw the arrow that tore a slit into his leather coat dart past.

“After him you curs! He’s running away with my new toy!” Apple heard Henderson oink in the distance. That man had a surprisingly powerful voice when he was angry.

The downpour of arrows thankfully came to an end when Apple began to weave through more densely populated areas of Pier. He was not intentionally using bystanders as meat shield and deterrents for the guards, he just did not know the city well enough to slip through its hidden cracks.

While he had so far managed to outmanoeuvre the guards, Apple still needed to figure out a destination. He could not outrun them forever. But where could he go? He had incurred the wrath of the local magician and a wealthy pervert. He could hide in the woods but if the guards mount horses while he runs through open plains, he would be slaughtered in an instant.

Apple did not know anywhere he could use as sanctuary. A temple? He would rather die than rely on that accused shape. First things first; he needed to lose the guards – fast. His lungs and legs burned from the extra weight he was carrying.

While he still pondered his future safe house, Apple merged with the hive of people and weaved through its anatomy. Using every ounce of dexterity, he possessed he danced through the masses of bodies, almost managing to never touch a single soul. However, he lacked enough skill to not whack the occasional person with his staff or accidentally slap them with the limp legs that protruded from the frail creature in his arms.

He could still hear the thundering of guards fortunately they were gradually becoming muffled by the swarm of soft bodies and the nimble distance between them.

Unfortunately, the mass of humans ended quicker than Apple expected. He was now in a street with only a few scraps of folk residing in it. The guards will soon be upon him once again.

"A crack!” His mind cheered; a narrow gap between two buildings.

A narrow gap indeed. A width so small, Apple had no choice but to awkwardly shimmy between it sideways.

He found himself on another street once he made it through the open-air tunnel. He could no longer see any guards, but it still was not good enough. He needed more and more distance between them. Apple continued to sneak through the crevices of the city. Some so long that almost no light could penetrate, others so narrow his nose scraped across the jagged wooden wall in front of him, with the girl he clutched tightly in his arm, her limbs grating against the roughness of the walls.

Six alleyways later and Apple finally found shelter. A tiny house, barely held together by rotted wood. Its ugliness and the invasion of moss and grass that infected it made Apple confident it was uninhabited. As he drew closer, his eyes began to water from the scent of urine of various creatures and freshness.

Freeing his left hand, he placed it upon the damp wooden door and pushed. At first it refused to budge but as Apple began to apply more and more for it finally creaked open with a horrendous stiffness.

Just enough light entered through the cut square holes in the hut’s walls for Apple to see. Though there was nothing worth seeing, apart from a broken chair and table, the odd patch of moss, the building was barren.

Apple walked to the corner of the room and placed his coat on the ground. He then gently placed the still unconscious body in his grip onto the leather coat. Apple whispered a quick spell and the amber of his staff glowed softly with an orange tint. He slowly hovered the light over the girl's body, inspecting the lit areas with a scholarly mind.

Apple, at this moment, had only now realised the girl was completely naked. He suddenly felt uncomfortable but it quickly disappeared when he remembered he was currently looking at a mere child. A child covered in many, many injuries.

Two bloated eyes the colour of stained velvet. Swollen lips caked in dried blood. Her features almost completely hidden under the hills of blues, blacks, and reds. “That must have been one heavy boot the robed man wore.”

Apple was unsure on what to do. He had very little healing knowledge and also had his own wounds to tend to, one of which was inflicted by her. What if she wakes up and bites him again? This strange girl had bitten every single person who had touched her so far. Right now, she had proven herself to be nothing more than a beast in Apple’s eyes. A beast that saved his life, however. Apple wondered if that was intentional or just a fortunate coincidence of her feral personality.

After staring at her grotesque face for several more seconds, Apple sighed heavenly. He retrieved a piece of cloth from his pocket and aimed his staff above it. After half a minute of silent spell casting, small lumps of ice trickled from the air in front of his staff’s heart and landed on the cloth. Once he had created a decently sized pile of ice, he sealed the cloth around the frozen water and place it upon the girl’s face – quickly making he was not blocking any airways.

With that done, Apple inspected her body for any signs of broken bones. He gently applied pressure onto her rips but could feel nothing out of place. He also received the same verdict for her arms and legs, that was good news at least. Apple had no idea how to mend broken bones. He also saw no fresh cuts on her skin, Apple was glad he did not have to put his sewing skills to the test. “She was one lucky girl... Probably,” Apple thought.

With her needs satisfied for now, Apple began to tend to himself.

He was actually shocked to find that the robed man’s flames had indeed cauterised the puncture wounds on his hand. Not bothering to use another piece of cloth, Apple rained icy hail upon his hand, numbing it from the hot scratching that had been assaulting it.

Now noticing just how cold it was in the damp room now that his hand no longer screamed at him, Apple wrapped his coat around the girls shivering body and casted a spell.

A crimson orb the size of a man’s curled fist floated around the room. Apple willed it to move with his mind, making it occupy the corner of the room they both resided in. Apple basked in its warmth as it buzzed past his body. With nothing to do right now, Apple used the glowing orb as a tool to train his magic control. He made it spin, pulsate, dart backwards and forwards. A boring game indeed yet it was just enough to distract him from the pain in his body and dryness of his mouth.

Twenty minutes past and the orb eventually vanished. Its master’s head slumped forward and the faint sound of snoring began to start. Exhausted from the battle and all of the running, Apple fell into a deep slumber while he sat crossed legged next to the girl who had saved him and now he himself had saved.