~~~Author's Corner~~~

As of November 21st, 2015, chapter 2 has been moved to chapter 3, and a new chapter has taken it's place. Also, small changes have been made to the already existing chapters.

If you see grammatical/spelling mistakes, let me know.

HUGE thanks to Balthazar for doing all that he did in helping me work out the rough spots. Enjoy!

### WARNING ###

This chapter contains some scenes not meant for those who don't like blood.

Reader discretion advised.

(Don't expect this too often)

“Well look what we have here” Peacekeeper Vaughn looked down at the unconscious teenager on the ground. Just moments earlier he had the appearance of a child, but now his once-fair hair was dark brown, his face sharper, his height taller, and he lost all of his weight, looking unhealthily skinny. He retained the bright clothes he was wearing, but they were now too short on this person.

Seeing the change, Vaughn casually pointed his hand straight up towards the sky, and spoke the spell for a fireball twice, only supplying enough mana to keep the projectiles going for about 15 meters before they fizzled and died in the air. The message was clear to all the peacekeepers that saw it: No threat, but require assistance. The airships in the sky didn’t budge.

Vaughn only had to wait a few minutes before two keepers rounded a corner and made their way to the scene, wearing the more common white light armor of swordsmen peacekeepers. The Capital’s policing force was split into two groups: the wand corps and the sword corps, obviously separating the mages and the regular knights. Considering the rarity of magicians and the education necessary to train them, the sword corps filled nearly eighty percent of the overall peacekeeper force, but, because the mages were rarer and few in number, they enjoyed a higher status and could get away with abusing their authority. This difference led to a great amount of animosity between the corps, only working together when it was absolutely necessary.

During the harvest festival, the wand corps usually didn’t patrol the streets, as this task was left entirely to the sword corps, but because of the emperor’s decree, the mages had borrowed the airships to fulfill their role without getting their hands dirty. A handful, including Vaughn, quickly got tired of just watching the festivities and decided to drop down themselves. When the mages on the airship had seen the situation wasn’t urgent, they ignored the sign, allowing the sword corps to respond instead.

As two swordsmen, a man and a woman, approached Vaughn standing near the teen laying on the ground, the street still holding him by the ankle, they raised their eyes back at Vaughn for an explanation, but Vaughn quietly began rattling off orders instead, quiet enough so that only the other keepers could hear him.

“I want this little shit transported immediately to an enchanted holding cell. After which, guard the cell until I, and no one else, arrive to perform the interrogation and disposal. Any deviation will result in your own incarceration for treason. Have I made myself clear enough?”

At first, the two keepers frowned at the orders, but upon hearing that the commoner boy in front of them was to be transported to an enchanted cell, reserved for mages, the keepers looked back at the boy surprised. Even if he had the talent for magic, the education to use it should have been outside his reach, and they could just leave him in a normal cell. Usually only the nobilities children or those with outstanding talent were send to the academy, so this sight was beyond their expectations. The battle-scarred woman finally asked the question.

“This kid’s a mage?”

“He’s going to be unconscious for a while, so you will have to carry him. I’ll put these on just in case.” Vaughn ignored the woman and put a cuff on both of the boys arms, the metal sealing shut with a small incantation from Vaughn. Runes appeared on the rough iron, and although it was hard to tell, they glowed softly.

Looking satisfied, Vaughn motioned for the swordsmen to come and take their charge. He mentally released the [Earth Grip] spell, the skin the cobble fell from already blue from bruises. The woman’s brute-looking partner proceeded to sling the thief over his shoulder with ease, wincing at the smell.

Seeing them leave, Vaughn dispersed the crowd that had gathered, straightened his robes that had shifted slightly in his movements, and continued walking down the path he was following before this little incident, to find out what his favorite whores were up to.

***

COLD. The feeling pierced every nerve of his body as he was jolted awake, panicking as he found himself attached from the wrists to short metal chains connecting to the floor, soaked in water that felt like ice, his long hair now plastered to his face. He had presumably just been unconscious, but a wave fatigue rolled over him, making him feel like he had just been running for hours, coupled with his already maddening hunger beginning to come back, it was a hell like no other.

The room he found himself in was a luxury for a cell, being about three times bigger than the ones he was used to. There was the familiar stone walls, floor, and ceiling, but appeared less used, probably due to the lack of bodily fluids. And, standing there, with a women in matching white robes and a bucket in hand, stood the keeper that caught him.

“Thank you Tryst. I didn’t know if he was ever going to wake up.” Vaughn politely spoke to the woman without taking his eyes off of the prisoner, who was now taking big gulps of breath as if there was a limited supply. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a little alone time with our new friend”.

The woman didn’t say a word as she silently left the room with a neutral expression and bolted the solid iron door behind her. The click of the mechanism was the only sound as Vaughn and the teen stared at each other.

“You know,” Vaughn started, ending the stare down by moving to lean against the wall the door was set into, “that was a pretty neat trick you pulled back there with that disguise spell. I didn’t think trash like you could pull off a second tier spell without training” The teen only stared back, thinking that if he wasn’t dead, there was chance for escape.

Vaughn saw his toy’s eyes moving around and sighed, “Does escape really look like a viable option right now? Both of your hands are restrained, any weak magic you might conjure up is completely negated in here, and besides all of that, you look like you couldn’t make it to the door, much less fight your way past me and every other mage in this building, and… I’ve got a few questions that need answering first.” Vaughn grinned as defiant eyes only stared back at him.

“What’s your name?”

The teen’s face didn’t change, his body only swaying slightly as he tried to keep himself upright.

“They never answer the first time…” Vaughn mumbled as he hit the wall with his fist, three small pieces of stone cracking off to float around his hand, which he now held in front of him. Without warning, one of the stones shot from it’s orbit with massive speed, aimed straight at the chained prisoner’s upper arm.

The teen yelled out in pain as a hole appeared in his right arm, just below the shoulder. With his wrists chained to either side of him, all he could do was yell and squirm as the stone shard turned in the wound, his tormentor’s hand turning to mirror the stone. More and more blood started to flow.

“You must have thought you were some tough shit down in the dirt districts, so allow me to fix your misconceptions. I will ask a question, you will answer, or I will pick a better spot to aim for” Vaughn wasn’t smiling anymore. The longer it took to get the information for the captain, the longer he would be in this hole that smelled like piss and death. While he did enjoy seeing the thief in pain, justly deserved for forcing him down here, his threats were mostly to the point of ending things as quickly as possible.

“Next Question: Who taught you magic” The most important question. If there was some rogue mage teaching magic to anyone who would listen in the slums, it would pose a serious problem to the peacekeepers in the future. They would be unable to find the culprits of crimes properly if there were others out there that could disguise themselves at will. While Liar’s Guise was a tier two spell that your average commoner couldn’t ever hope to control, the countermeasures just to stop the few that could would cost a fortune.

The boy only stared angrily up at vaughn, his teeth clenched in pain. He knew he would die in this cell one way or another. If he could just keep his mouth shut for a little longer, his body would probably give out from the shock of the stones combined with his already weakened state.

This was a strange scenario for him to be in. Normally, he would have no qualms about snitching on other pickpockets or thieves if it meant getting out of trouble, or in this case, a much more permanent release, but he felt a strange conviction to keep his mouth shut about his benefactor. Maybe it was just to spite the keeper, or his mind was not thinking straight under the conditions, but he would not betray the kindness.

“From the top then. What is your name?”

“…” He didn’t know how much information it would take to find what this sadist was looking for, so he held his tongue.

“I can’t hear you” Vaughn sent another shot, this time aiming at the left thigh.

Bright new pain exploded in his leg as he felt the bone being hit. He had gone through his fair share of keeper brutality and “occupational accidents”, but this was a blinding pain that didn’t allow a single other thought to go through his head but to scream.

Vaughn moved closer, kneeling down to grab the chin of the screamer with his left hand while he kept the last stone floating in his right. He could always get more from the walls if the next one didn’t do the trick, but he never needed to go past three to get what he wanted, so he decided to ramp things up to not tarnish his record.

“You’ve got one more chance before things get permanent. What. Is. Your. Name.” Vaughn was beyond annoyed, almost angry, his voice snarling. With a thought and a bit of mana, he started to spin the rock at an increasing speed, until a sharp point appeared at the end, now a short distance from the prisoner’s right eye.

“You have three seconds. Three. Two. OAHHH”

Using the remainder of his strength, bringing a new flurry of pain, the thief poured every ounce of his remaining strength, which wasn’t much, into kicking the keeper, trying to impart as much force as possible, not caring where he hit. He waited till the last second, and caught the keeper by surprise, both of their eyes locked on the stone getting ready to impale his eye.

Vaughn didn’t even see the attack, and began to fall backwards, losing control over the stone which was about to fire. With his level of control over Earth, he planned to stop the stone just inside the socket, but with him falling backward from his stoop, the stone flew up above the intended target without a limiter, creating a perfect hole the size of a finger in the thief’s forehead.

As Vaughn tried to get back up off the ground, screaming curses the whole time, Tryst heard the noise and opened the cell to see what was going on. Inside, Vaughn was just getting to his feet, and the prisoner lay motionless on the ground, a large pool of blood spreading outward.

She began to complain about the mess.