Lucca’s gaze kept steady as he watched the abhorrent beasts rip through the cityscape presented on the computer. To liken those creatures to anything, he’d call them gnolls, little furry half men with digitigrade legs and maws like a hyena’s. They walked upright on two legs and had arms as butch as bodybuilders, but they were twitchy. Constantly jerking their head’s around searching for something or just unable to focus their attention for long on one thing.

After searching through the internet, he’d been able to find a news broadcast from California. The broad anchor had kept quiet, watching with as much shock as the other viewers. Just before one of the many hundreds of gnolls was able to plough its jagged iron spear through a man’s heart, the image suddenly paused and pulled back to the news anchor. A man with grey hair, blue eyes with wrinkles all over. His mouth hung open but the moment he realized he was back on air he cleared his throat and focused on the camera, no amount of focus could hide the slight tremble to his eyes.

“Current reports are saying that nearly two thousand have been killed by these monsters that suddenly appeared throughout Siskiyou, bringing up the death toll to the thousands after strange and unusual beasts began appearing all across America just months ago. While there has been no confirmed contact made with potential terrorist organizations who are likely to have created these monstrous beings, reports are flooding in from around the world that similar events have been occurring.”

The screen flickered from the broadcaster and to a new image, one of a windmill surrounded by a field of tulips. Clambering across the sails numerous apelike monster screeched and smashed their bulging arms together causing the air to ripple with danger at the people recording

“In response, the president has initiated a state of emergency and called in the national guard to the areas currently under hostile assault from this enemy force and has declared that any residents of these following locations should make haste and evacuate until these areas can be secured. These areas are, Dublin, Fremont, Castro Valley, and finally Fairview. It is advised that evacuation should be done as quickly as possible.” For a moment, the broadcaster paused and caught his breath.

“To discuss these recent events, I would like to bring in David Marshall, now joining us from the Netherlands.”

The image was cut in half with the American broadcaster taking the left while on the right appeared a new man, Tall and lanky with a well-trimmed beard and a comb-over hairdo.

“David, can you tell us about what is happening in the Netherlands?”

With a cold sigh, Lucca paused the recording and raised his brows, stretching them. “Monkey’s and gnolls,” the latter his brow twitched at. He’d seen a few gnolls during his time as the queen's pet. Their fur then was matted and dirty and they cast hateful glares all around as they were forced to rip each other apart as he sat there curled beside the throne collar and lead around his neck. It was a horrible sight.

As a rule of thumb, he never showed those emotions to the queen. As much as she enjoyed seeing his pain she never once found pleasure in his disgust. Instead, it angered her, made her take more violent actions those nights.

Hearing a clunk rumble up from downstairs, he was drawn to his doorway as he heard faintly Catia whimpering a low, “I’m home!” and earned a welcome back from their parents.

Turning back to the computer screen he closed off the tab and onto a new one, that of a game being played. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the graphics were nigh realistic at a first glance. Even squinting he was hard-pressed to find any faults.

Lucca huffed, he’d already watched through half the first video before finding himself bored with the concept. The gameplayer was dull only ever chattering to his viewers as every half second a much too loud and obnoxiously large pop-up would appear in the top left corner saying someone had donated some sum to them.

“Thought I used to like this stuff,” remorse filled him as he scanned the tabs lined up on the side for another video, finding them all just videos for other games by the same or different channels. ‘You would think after a decade people would figure out how to make a thumbnail that isn’t their ugly faces over-reacting to things.’

Deciding there was little more for him to learn, he scrolled back to the top and started the video again. It may not have been any good, but at least it was sound in the monotony of silence that otherwise rambled around him.

As the streamer bellowed a noise of surprise, Lucca shut his eyes and leaned into his bed. He turned his focus inwards, sought out what little he could about himself and the things that had happened to him.

There was something in his head, a bead, that much he could tell. It was at the centre though just a little farther back than true centre, and it was small. Less than the smallest beads one could find. Around the bead’s inky black hull, he could feel the seal he’d formed around it. The one that let him claim it as his own and not the other way around.

It was ominous, he thought, there was something off about it. Not quite evil, not quite good. Just… there. A remnant of Zushakons gift to him weakened by whatever that priestess had done to him on Marga. Intrinsically he knew it was too small, that his control over it had been too swift.

On the other hand, he could just tell that it was that weakness that kept him sane and gave him the means to return home.

Lucca focused on it, phased out the noise of the outside world and simply let the bead lay there implanted in his skull. Just waiting for something to happen. But nothing did.

Hearing a soft rapping on his door he opened his eyes as Catia pushed open the door and peaked with her head inside. “You still awake?” she whispered hopefully.

“Mmm,” he hummed back. “Just watching…. Well, whatever this is.”

Catia pressed inside then turned to the computer and seemed to recognize the streamer. “Oh, Jaxvil, haven’t seen him in a while.” Inching her way to the bed she leaned on the end and pushed herself up. “Must be an old video then. Last I remember he was arrested after shooting his girlfriend a few years back.” She turned back to him and gauged his ever-calm expression.

“Really? Any idea why?”

She shook, “nope. Just did. Then again, why else would someone kill their girlfriend if not for jealousy or because they were screwed in the head.” Falling to laughter, she twisted on her bottom and brought one leg onto the bed so she could face Lucca, at least sidelong that was. “How are you doing?”

He eyed her worry with cold calmness. “Fine. Happy considering, I no longer have to worry about being whipped before bed.”

Catia sucked in her lips and hissed, her eyes grew hazy, and her head dropped, “I’m so sorry Lucca.”

“Don’t be. You had nothing to do with it. You couldn’t even do anything.”

It didn’t make the pain any easier for her. Just knowing the things that had happened to him… she could barely even comprehend half of them.

Seeing her worry nearly bursting out, Lucca sighed and pushed himself to a more upright seating. “Seriously. Don’t worry about it. It’s done for as far as I’m concerned.” He eyed her up and down. She was dressed more normally than yesterday, a simple white blouse and blue jeans topped with a small, weaved leather belt keeping them from falling.

A smile rose to her lips, one he supposed was there to calm herself more than him for whatever reason. He didn’t quite get her empathy for him, be it her brother or a stranger it was out of place. She hadn’t lived what he had, hadn’t seen the him from back then. For all intents and purposes, he was the him of now. Blind in one eye and survivor of a crashed airship.

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have told them?’ he contemplated, though it was now all in the past. Nothing more could be done to change it.

“How was training? Did your… sergeant was it, punish you?” he diverted.

“No, no. Can’t do that.” She began slowly with a pause, “It’s more like I was questioned why I left and told to make sure it didn’t happen again.”

“So, no spanking?”

She laughed, “no, no spanking. I’m not a child.”

“Still my little sister.”

“Who's been alive for twenty-four years.”

“I’m not seeing your point.”

A fond smile took her expression immediately raising her spirits and well a fondness in Lucca’s heart, “when do you ever. I heard you were able to walk around, how’d that go?”

“I stood up. Then I lifted a leg and moved forward a bit. Isn’t that complicated.”

She grumbled at him, but nothing could hide the amusement on her face. “You are a real bastard, you know that?”

He nodded, “of course I am. It’s fun being one after all.”

Letting a soft quietness fill them, Lucca soon broke it with a question. “Catia. Why are you fighting? At least, I mean why are you learning to fight?”

She turned away, mulled the question for a bit with her jaw grinding slowly before turning back. “I don’t have much of a choice.” She said, “Sparks are required by law to fight. We don’t get much choice in the matter, well, that’s not entirely true. We’re put in service for two years after that we’re free to do our own thing. But no, otherwise there’s not much choice in it.”

Lifting one hand, Lucca watched as a light sparked on her middle three fingers as flames softly billowing in silence ignited from her second knuckle up. “We have powers. No one else does. We’re unique like that,” she peered into her flames as if searching for some inexplainable truth inside it while Lucca winced at its brightness. “It’s not ideal, I guess you could say. But it’s only fair, isn’t it? For people like me, those who can, to help those who can’t. I know if I didn’t have this power, I would be begging for someone like me to come and put out the flames.”

Turning to Lucca, she saw his almost feline pulling away from the flames and quickly snuffed it out by rubbing her thumb over her fingers. “Sorry, forgot you’ve turned into a bat all of a sudden there.”

Lucca set himself more comfortably and shook his head. “That’s fine. But still, aren’t you scared of dying?”

Instantly a tremble came to her eyes, and she shivered, “absolutely. Still, I can’t run away. There’s too much going on for me to become a coward and turn my back on all those people depending on me.”

“No one’s depending on you Catia. You don’t even know those people. You have no obligation to protect.”

She pondered for but a few short breaths before lifting herself off the bed and facing him, “course not. But I want to, Lucca. You can’t change my mind if that’s what you're trying to do.”

‘I’m not trying to change anything,’ he thought, “just trying to wrap my head around things.” He said with a calm, appeasing raise of his right hand. “Fighting,” he leaned back, rested his head against his pillow and stared up to the sky. Thought back to the arena, not his last time, but those times before. “Killing things… it’s not fun.”

Catia could see something in him, a sadness, a hollow portion of his heart bared just slightly off his sleeve. She didn’t pry in case it would raise some bad memories for him. “I know-”

“Catia! Dinner!” Lena’s beckoned and drew both sets of eyes to the door.

Catia lingered for a bit on it then turned to him and asked, “you going to be okay? Want anything to drink or eat—well, no, you can’t eat, I guess. So, you want anything to drink?”

“Whiskey on the rocks?” he jokingly replied earning a tilted smile from his sister.

“Water it is.” And quickly, she had faded into the depths of the house, door shutting with a creak behind her.

In the silence she left behind, Lucca focused back on Jaxvil’s vod and let out a harsh, cold breath. Then with the glance of wind against his cheek found himself drawn to his window and the dull incandescent lights from the street below and found himself urging for something. He kicked off his blanket, slid off his bed and inched himself to the portcullis and pushed the glass open wider so he could lean his head out and feel the cold nightly wind even more.

Never before in his life had he wanted to do something so simple as go on a walk than he did that moment.