I expected there'd be parks in the poor areas of the city, thought Sophia. I'm not sure why I had that expectation, but now I know it certainly isn't true. That's a kind of progress, I suppose.

After investigating a few alleyways Sophia had decided that they were not, perhaps, the most inviting places to spend a night, and so she'd walked around the part of the city she was in—and it's so BIG, she thought, as she wandered down street after street. I never knew the city I lived in was so huge. I just want to keep exploring—

But already Sophia was tired and her feet were sore and her arms were beginning to throb dully. I hope that's not a bad sign, she thought, as she walked along yet another street. Probably I'm just not used to getting hurt, probably an experienced traveller and adventurer wouldn't even be bothered by cuts like these. I should look at this as an opportunity, travelling can be dangerous after all and getting hurt is, what's the phrase, an 'occupational hazard'. Maybe I should've learnt how to fight or something before I started this journey. Oh well. Too late to worry about that now. If I get into trouble again I can ... I can run, these boots are a little uncomfortable and stiff but I bet I could outdistance most people. And the exercise would probably do me good.

Another pain poked at Sophia. All she'd eaten since a rather poor lunch of stew and bread had been an apple, and her stomach was reminding her of this with some urgency. We've got a routine, you and I, it was telling her. You're already several hours behind; what's the hold up?

"I'll just have to go hungry tonight and see if I can't figure something out tomorrow," Sophia muttered, as she walked down yet another street—at night it was even more difficult to tell them apart, and it was getting darker by the minute. She shivered, although it wasn't particularly cold, and glanced at a nearby alleyway. I suppose one's as good as another, she thought, and considering that there don't really seem to be any alternatives...

As far as alleyways went, this one wasn't too bad. There wasn't much garbage in it, just a small pile of rotten cabbages at one end, and the smell wasn't SO awful, better than other alleyways Sophia had encountered anyway, and the spot she picked out seemed fine enough—it was an ancient doorway tucked between a couple of broken crates and a cracked rainwater barrel. Sophia felt oddly protected by the narrow alcove, even as she hoped the door was as unused as it looked. So she settled in and drew her frock coat around herself, then started suddenly as she heard shouts nearby—drunks, she thought, as the shouts came nearer, they sounded like they were just outside the alleyway, and then they came nearer still, they must be IN the alleyway now, Sophia thought, eyes wide, pushing herself further into the doorway, oh please don't see me, please don't bother me...

She needn't have worried. As the shouts grew more distant Sophia realised that they hadn't come anywhere near the alleyway; they were just incredibly noisy.

"Well," she whispered to herself, "if that's all I have to deal with tonight I'll be lucky."

It wasn't. Eventually Sophia managed to fall into a light, uncomfortable sleep, but she was woken a dozen times in the night by different sounds—shouting, close by or in the distance, the sound of something large crashing against cobblestones, a dog that decided to use the alleyway as a toilet almost made Sophia involuntarily use it as one too, as she woke to hear its heavy panting nearby and thought for sure it was a hideous hulking man come to molest her. All in all, she didn't get much sleep at all before the sound of a bottle smashing and loud, drunken laughter woke her a few hours before dawn.

Sophia sat bolt upright—this time was different, she knew it was, she could feel it deep in her chest, sure as the rapid beating of her panicked heart, they were coming into the alley, their voices were too loud, too clear, she could hear their footsteps, could almost smell their sour breath as they laughed and yelled—

"COME ON! COME ON! YOU'RE GONNA COME ON!"

"SHUT UP ABOUT THAT!"

"WHERE'S THAT—"

"THERE!"

Around the edge of the broken crates Sophia saw several hulking figures, she was too terrified to even scream as her boots scrabbled against the cold stone beneath her, as she tried desperately to push herself to her feet, and they were coming towards her now, dozens and dozens and dozens of them, big grasping hands reaching for her, somehow she was on her feet and she had no idea what she could do but she swung her arm at the nearest hulking form, yelled out defiantly as it impacted painfully against something solid, and she was crying now, sobbing, the pain in her arms unbearable but barely noticed above her panic, as huge great hands grasped her wrists and then her ankles, she was being lifted off the ground, she struggled but what could she do? What could one girl do against hordes of hulking great shadow-men like these? Sophia could hear herself screaming, could hear the laughter and shouts of the men around her, and the stink of them was worse than any alleyway, and the grip they held on her arms and legs was too strong, too painful, her bones were being crushed, she knew they were, they must be, under such a brutal grip, and she was still struggling even though she knew it was hopeless, knew she couldn't do anything—

The crushing grip on her left leg was gone, Sophia suddenly realised through her pain and panic and terror, informed by that tiny rational part of her brain that seemed to keep working even when the rest of her had gone completely to pieces, and she kicked out, hoping to connect with something, to at least cause some pain to these beasts that held her, and there was a dull orange light, that was odd, but she didn't have the rationality spare to deal with that now, because she was looking up, could now identify the brute holding her right leg, could make out the shape of him through her terror, and if she twisted and kicked as hard as she could—

Sophia felt a rush of triumph as she heard the bellow of pain, the crunch of the impact as she drove her heavy boot into her attacker's ribs the most satisfying feeling she could remember having, even though he didn't release his grip on her leg—not until she drew her foot back and twisted again, managed to catch him in the stomach this time, and it was odd but the noise this made was a sharp loud 'crack', and it almost seemed like the alley was lit up with bright clean light, and this was followed by a hideous scream of pain—Sophia suffered a moment of disorientation as the thought 'Did I hurt him that badly with such a weak kick?' was quickly overridden by the second thought of 'It wasn't the one I kicked who screamed like that. What's going on here?'

It took Sophia a few seconds after she'd had this thought to realise that she was lying on the dirty ground of the alley, the crushing grip on her wrists somehow gone, and for a while she just listened to the odd sounds around her—a noise like heavy rain that stopped and started, that odd cracking sound from before, various screams of pain and anguish, mostly hideous, and there were odd sights too, though her eyes didn't seem to be working properly, flashes of light and again the flickering of flames, and then there wasn't anything at all.

Sophia continued to lie there, listening to the sound of heavy, rapid footsteps, and then silence—no, not silence, voices, I'm hearing voices:

"Do you think she's like us?"

"Whether she is or not, you helped save her."

"She gave one of 'em that was holding her a damned good kick in the ribs, did you see?"

"That's not 'special', though. That's just ... 'feistiness'."

I wish I could understand what any of them are saying, Sophia thought, I'm sure they're speaking Common but I just can't deal with matters of comprehension right now. After a few seconds Sophia became aware that the reason she couldn't see anything was that her eyes were closed, so she opened them. She looked up at someone, it was dark in the alley and even without confusion and fear and pain clouding her mind it would've been difficult to make out any kind of detail at all, so she concentrated on his voice (it was a man's voice, that at least she was certain of) as he spoke to her. Kind, she thought, even as the words he was speaking went beyond her current level of comprehension. Dedicated. Driven. I may be able to trust this person.

"Do you think she can hear you?"

"Yeah, she's listening. Ain't ya?"

Sophia managed to nod. There are lots of people in this alley, she thought. And ... horses?

"There will be a lot of questions later," the man was saying to her, and now she could understand him perfectly, "and a few answers, too. For now, perhaps, we should begin with this: you can call me Fin."