They showed up in two hours.

Twelve riders, all dressed in capes—once white, and now smeared in dirt. Three Punishers with their heads shaven, the same look of obsession on their faces, flashes of light in their auras. That was not good at all.

Darkness dissolves matter, and light burns it all. A normal person is balanced, but these... But who am I to say that? Demons are parts of darkness, and sooner or later, it will claim me, unless I manage to remain human.

They stopped at the scene that I had carefully prepared for them. A dead horse and a man in a black cloak lying on his back. Of course, there was nothing under the cloak, but who would check?

So, who'll go first? Ah, too bad I don't have a crossbow. Whatever. I'll manage. Especially since they stopped right where I wanted them to.

I sized up the situation for the last time. All right, here we go!

A daring leap into the center of the squad, and I landed right behind one of the pursuers. These shaven-headed beasts should not exist in my world. Demon's blood sang a battle cry in my veins.

It was a whirlwind of death. The horses went into a frenzy upon seeing my battle form, while I continued to strike, blow upon blow.

The first died straight away when I crushed him under my boots, the second fell to my tail, and the third—to a knife I threw at him. The horses reared up as I jumped aside—and howled like a wild wolf. Henry taught me that. Too bad I didn't have any other wolf traits, but you play the cards you're dealt.

People were falling on the ground all over, unable to deal with their maddened mounts, and I was waiting for them. I killed two more with my blade, another one with my tail, and tried to get to the last two. I had to deal with them above all else. Filth.

The temples trained these bastards to hunt mages, but at least mages did something for people, like the necromancer I was saving. But these guys...all they could do was take money and whine about sins.

That said, at that moment, they weren't whining, but trying to brace themselves. Well, so help you Saint! I charged forward, finally reaching one of the Hounds with my second dagger. I didn't have any of them left, just my sword and my tail. The weapon I had been born with.

The men finally started taking me seriously and got ready for an attack. Nobody wanted to escape. Great. That was just what I needed. If anybody ran away, I would have to find them, follow their trail.

But the murderous scum charged. They didn't even think that somebody who attacked them wasn't stupid. Does it matter what I look like? I might be small, but I am as fast and strong as any adult!

I had killed ten of them before they realized that. The remaining ones regrouped, sending a shaven lout ahead. He looked at me and reached out with his hand, the symbol of the Bright Saint inside—a cross in a circle. I snarled and leaped toward him.

Demon!

My movements suddenly slowed down, as if I was swimming in thick jelly. The two other warriors prepared to meet me, their swords flashing. They never reached me.

Rene's arrow plowed through the bald skull, and the spell was halted. In two swings, the rest of the squad was dead.

The necromancer came out from behind the rocks. "Well, boy, you're a gift that keeps on giving!"

"Taking. Lives," I corrected him respectfully. "Will you help deal with the trophies?"

"I will. And maybe we should get ready to spend the night?"

"No need," I sighed. "On horseback, we will reach the castle pretty soon."

And what a walloping I'll get there!

I did get it. I almost felt like a prophet, even. Rick didn't care a bit if I was a half-demon or not, he gave me the thrashing of a lifetime. What would you do in his place?

First, his charge had disappeared for a whole day, then returned home with a bunch of loot, several horses, and a smiling necromancer. Rick had no choice, really—but when I saw Martha, I thought his punishment a blessing. She almost hugged me to death, that's how worried my nanny had been.

Rene was interrogated using all proper necromantic skills and, after some hesitation, offered a job as my teacher. Why waste talented people? Ghirr, who already had nowhere to go, agreed on the spot. He wrote a letter to Cassie, inviting her there, and started setting up one of the towers for his needs. And really, what awaited him in Limdor, or Riolon? Nothing. And here, he had peace, comfort, and respect—and the possibility of raising his child without any problems if he or she turned out to be a necromancer. Torrin already tolerated one, after all.

Martha wasn't jealous of him at all. She realized very well that despite her skills, she didn't have much of an education. I had to know much more than she could teach. That was true dedication, to give up on something dear to you for the sake of someone you loved. She didn't exactly give up, though—she still visited all my lessons, only it was Rene who was the teacher. And Martha learned, too.

Soon, Cassie arrived at the castle. Happy for her husband, she easily fit in with the rest of us and started bearing children while helping Auntie Mira around the household.

Time passed. Outside Torrin's borders, rebellions started and died out, Radenorian coin got cheaper and more expensive, neighbors chipped away at our land—and we just went on living. Until I turned fifteen. At sixteen, I was to be presented to the court—and nobody was going to release me into the world unprepared.

*****

On my fifteenth birthday, I got the best present of them all. I changed forms. First, however, I almost passed out.

Just imagine waking up, going to the bathroom to brush your teeth, and seeing in the mirror a cute, noble-looking boy instead of the usual scales and red eyes. I yelled out in panic, and startled, knocking down a water basin. The servants came running after hearing the noise and screamed as well. Rick and Henry followed them, and before they figured out what was happening, I got the pleasure of seeing one of my teachers turning pale with anger and the other's face growing red.

They had never seen me in this form before and assumed I had gotten kidnapped and replaced with this guy—if not worse.

Shocked, Rick called out to Martha and Rene, while Henry pulled out a sword and advanced on me. I jumped back, spreading my hands forward.

"It's me, Henry!"

"Who's 'me'?" Henry didn't put the sword away, but it made him pause. The claws protracted from my fingers without any prompting.

"Alex!"

"You look so different!"

Martha was the first to arrive at the scene, and Rene the second. I immediately felt a wave of necromantic energy aimed at me and barely managed to defend myself from being turned into a rock.

"What are you doing? I don't want to die!"

"A necromancer," Rene determined.

"Alex?" Martha breathed out in surprise.

I nodded. Alex, Alex...go on, recognize me at last!

"Alex?"

Rick's face slowly returned to its normal color.

"We were warned he would get this ability around sixteen years old..."

"What about us? Who warned us?" Henry was outraged.

Martha cast her eyes downward. Yeah, we hadn't told them about our talk with Argadon. That was too personal for me, which is why I asked my nanny not to do that. And Martha loved me way too much. Henry stepped forward and gave my ear a painful pinch. "You idiot!"

"Hey, take it easy! You'll tear it off!"

"And I should!"

But my second ear escaped the punishment. A good decision, as I was the vengeful sort—I could easily smear the insides of his hat with tar, or his boots...

I liked my new looks. Really cute. Big blue eyes, white hair of the same length as in my half-demon form, soft white skin, thin arms, and legs, like a true nobleman, small frame.

Almost a copy of Michelle, only with different features. Her face was delicate, like a doll's. I, on the other hand, have prominent cheekbones, a heavy jaw, and a very high forehead—and my eyebrows and eyelashes are black, the former looking like two straight lines leading right toward my temples. All of this made me look somewhat like a predator—but a human predator. Overall, I was a short, slightly-built boy, who probably could be dressed as a girl if not for his face.

When my family—and they were my real family, who else would I call 'family', not my uncle—figured everything out, they rubbed their hands together, content. Now I could be taken out into the world.

I'll never forget my first journey around the country. Never.