Chapter 1 - Splinters of Wood and Uneaten Bread

Killian had always, always, always wanted to cast a spell. Any spell would do, but he would like it to be a big one. To learn magic you needed education, money and a family name. Killian had none of those things. All he had was a dream and quick hands.

Both had kept him alive on the streets of Sanctia DaVaux. Sanctuary of the Voice. Capital city of the magocracy of Pryviow. It was, to most, a bastion of knowledge and grace. As long as you had the money. In every corner of Genia, money was king. In the country of Pryviow, you could smooth over that by being a powerful mage. However, if you had neither power in magic, nor money, it was as brutal a place as anywhere else.

Killian hadn’t ever been lucky. Both Dack and Sherrin had Aspects, and while they acted like it wasn’t a big deal, they also used the magic they were given by them whenever they could. Dack had a Power based rock skill that made his knuckles like jagged stones. Sherrin had a Speed based wind ability, allowing him to move through a crowd without being noticed. Neither was helpful right now, though. Right now, they relied on learned skill, not gifted magic. Killian may not know what an Aspect was, or what it felt like, but he knew how to pick a lock.

“Kil, would you hurry up, howls damn you.” A hushed voice, high with tension nearly broke Killian’s concentration. Sherrin was looking both ways, keeping an eye out while Killian worked. His mind had wandered, but Killian had been working the closest thing to magic that he knew. His hands deft, practiced and silent, the lock was defeated and the door opened.

“In!” A loud whisper, defeating the point, came from Dack. Older, stronger and far more confident than Killian or Sherrin, he was their leader. Ever since Yanni got caught and taken away at least. Dack had straight blonde hair and purple eyes, the signature of being a true Pryvian by blood. His squashed nose had been gifted to him by someone we considered a caretaker. He could have been handsome, if he wasn’t so angry all the time. Sherrin was small, his blonde a darker, dirtier colour. He wore glasses that didn’t quite fit the prescription, but they were better than his blindness. He also had a scar over his right eye from having a better pair smashed onto his face.

The room they had broken into was abandoned. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t be carted off to wherever they took people from the streets if they were found, but it meant they shouldn’t be looked for here. Killian had said they should try to find Yanni, or at least leave her a note telling her where to find them, but Dack had said that was stupid. Dack said Yanni was never coming back and Sherrin tried to pretend that he wasn’t crying. They hadn’t talked about her again after that.

After closing and locking the door, the three boys finally relaxed. It had taken days to find somewhere that wasn’t already taken. There were just too many people, Killian had heard a fruit vendor say. Dack said that it was because no one wanted to live at the bottom tier of the city, but people did live there. In dirt, and hunger and fear but they lived there. Sherrin said it was because more monsters were appearing, but Sherrin was a coward so no one listened to his stories.

“Rin, this one is yours.” Killian held out a bread roll as he spoke, waving it towards his friend. Sherrin gratefully received the bread. He took a large bite, his mop of blonde hair bouncing as he chewed. Dack had already taken one of the rolls and Killian had only stolen three. The final roll Killian decided to save for later. It could still be split if they didn’t end up finding something to eat before bed.

The other two were silent, except for their eating. With his own senses pumped up by exhilaration, Killian was the first to feel it. A tingle over his hair and a rock forming in his stomach. It was the feeling of pressure exerted by an Aspect user, and it was close to them. Dack and Sherrin dropped their bread as the wave of nausea and fear hit them too.

In the best case, this was a young warlock in training just messing with some troublesome punks. Worst case, the Nappers had found them.

Their answer came with horror as a pair of familiar faces burst into the room. The magic took hold as two men, one almost too round to get inside, and the other almost too muscular, laughed.

“‘Ello boys! Been lookin’ for you lot for ages.” Beray, the fat one, looked at the three, now incapacitated, young men. It was Beray’s magic that now held the three, like steel hands being placed heavy on their shoulders. Even though he was larger than Killian, who was in turn larger than Sherrin, Dack was still tiny in comparison to the men. For the last four months, the three boys had been in a cat and mouse chase with the Nappers. Beray and Gadd were violent, stupid and blessed with magic.

They wouldn’t be considered strong anywhere, really, which might be why they attack the weakest in society. Such thoughts weren’t at the forefront of Killian’s mind. If his fear had been for himself, he might have frozen. His fear was for his friends. His brothers. He wouldn’t let the same thing that happened to Yanni happen to them.

Something inside Killian snapped. It wasn’t fair. His feet felt light as he ran at the men, just trying to do something. Anything. He had lived a life of never doing anything that he wanted, and these men could just because they have a little bit of power? They wanted to take them and do Voice knows what with them, just because they don’t have power?

The injustice of it shook Killian to his core. Without thought, and a furious roar erupting from his lips, Killian leapt from his place by the back window and launched between his friends frozen forms. Barrelling with his full strength into the one called Gadd, both men were thrown off by the sudden intensity.

“RUN!” His breath needed to be saved for the struggle, that screamed plea was the only thing he managed to get out. Surprise attack only effective for a moment, Gadd’s composure recovered. While the bump had knocked Beray out of the room and onto his fat behind, Gadd’s frame was all muscle. He held firm, Killian felt like he had tackled a wall.

Killian’s vision swam before he even felt the blow. One moment he was pressed against a cheap woolen coat, scratching his face as he tried to push. The next his view seemed wrong, as though the world had been flipped on its side.

Killian tried to move, and found that it was as though all his limbs had swapped places. His right arm moved as he tried to move his left. Looking up, there were four aghast faces aimed at him. Not wanting to look like an idiot in front of Dack, and brave for Sherrin, Killian forced himself to stand.

Sherrin’s scream was confusing. The fight has already started, Rin, Killian thought, bit late to start getting scared now.

Except the scream was a different kind of horror. Killian’s vision was still strange, he felt like his body was wrong somehow. He tried to reach out for Sherrin but he didn’t see his arms extend out.

Looking down, Killian saw his own back.

A surprised, pained giggle came from Killian. He had grotesquely managed to pull himself up… backwards. His head had been spun by Gadd, who looked as shocked as anyone else. Killian’s knees bent as the pain started, the phantom pain of being robbed of body and life.

He could feel everything start to freeze. He couldn’t actually feel his body, just a remnant idea of what having a body was like. Even his ringing head was no longer his own, thoughts not linking up like they should.

“You howling idiot. Help me grab these two and then we’ll figure out how to fix this.” Beray had been the one to speak, but Killian couldn’t differentiate at this point. He was glad that they were going to fix him though, this was really starting to hurt.

They’re not talking about fixing you. The voice in Killian’s thoughts was normally his own. Now however, the voice he heard now was feminine. Calm and warm. The world seemed to come to a stop around him, everything moving in slow motion before freezing.

I’m starting to get delirious. My body is on wrong and now my thoughts have an accent.

I’m sorry I can’t make it any easier for you. I wish it could have been less painful.

As though a dam had burst, an electric burn tore through every fiber of Killian’s being. The parts of him that had been disconnected seemed to ignite and scream. His brain turned into a molten hot core of agony. He was sure that he was dead, and that his soul had been cast into some demonic forge to be unmade.

We only have a short time. You aren’t dead yet, but you’re dying. A sad, unfair, inconsequential death.

I don’t want to die. It’s not fair. I don’t want to be nothing. I’m scared. What do I do?

I don’t want that either. You can be so much more. I can help you. Accept my pact and you will live on.

-God Pact-

|A Goddess has offered you a pact|

You have been chosen. By fate or fancy, a god has offered you a pact.

If you accept, the moment of your death will not be the end for you.

Your potential will become limitless.

Do you accept the pact?

Yes or No?

The world around Killian had frozen to absolute stillness. Beray and Gadd were dragging away Sherrin and Dack respectively. It was as though time had stopped existing. Sherrin’s face was covered in tears, arms reaching for Killian’s broken body. Dack was crimson red with rage, biting with all his strength into Gadd’s shoulder.

I can’t help them, can I?

Not as you are.

Killian had known as much. The injustice of it surrounded his fury and turned it cold. He would change this world, because this world was a howling mess. The contract required nothing but his confirmation, and with the last dregs of trembling energy left to him, Killian accepted the god pact.

At the age of 15, alone amongst the splinters of wood and crumb of uneaten bread, Killian died.