Elias’ day slipped through his fingers like water. The room was dead silent, and each movement seemed to reverberate. As he sat up, he looked numbly at the TV sitting across from him. Elias picked up his phone, staring at the home screen, expecting something. It stared back as if Elias held the answers. He thought about going back to sleep, but the thought of wasting more time wasn’t pleasant. He searched for his missing sock and put on his long, dark brown coat. Grabbing his wallet and phone, he stepped outside without a second thought. Even as he stepped away from his home, he didn’t turn around.

  While his parents slept, Greyharbor was more alive than ever. Neon signs cast long shadows in the dense fog. People walked less at night and talked more. It looked more like a festival than anything. The further Elias walked, the more the air tingled. The magic lingered in the air like static electricity. Color danced from person to person with a rhythm only melancholy to Elias. The city seemed to pulse faintly. Walk long enough and you notice things you shouldn't. Laughter carried from one block to another, then stopped suddenly. You lash out sharpinig the air itself. a point in time where one party stops caring about the outcome. A brief pause. The walls would egg you on as you yelled insults, encouraging you to throw more than words. Streams of magic, sharp and lustful, danced from person to person. Life to life.

  Elias walked oblivious to it all and continued to wander without purpose until something called out to him. A small weapons shop, the only one without a neon sign, stood out to Elias. Cutting through the crowds, he made his way to the entrance, rubbing his feet on the damp welcome mat.

  Magic never has one distinct smell; it always depends on the person and the magic cast. The elements never quite smelled like elements. They smelled artificial and crafted, like fruit-flavored candy. There was a section for enchanted weapons, and at the very back there was one for plain weapons. Elias strutted through the aisles, taking in the fabricated scents of ozone and burning hair. Past aisles of gravity-infused and kinetic weapons that reeked of blood and a scent you could never quite place.

  Eventually reaching the cold and less exciting plain area, Elias slowly browsed the aisles. His fingertips glided along the edges of blades and woven handles. He wasn't alive before the incident, but something in the simplicity and practicality of the weapons spoke to him.

  Elias had never truly hurt somebody, and he never really won a fight he was in. It always ended in a stalemate, and the other opponent got sloppy. He wasn't good at fighting either; his stamina was the only thing keeping him alive in a world fueled by magic.

  The texture of a wooden staff jumped out at Elias unlike the others. His fingernails dug into the dark grooved wood. Gilded tips, made to wound but not fatally injure. A soft, cracked leather grip in the center, the same shade as the wood.

  He grabbed the staff off the shelf like a newborn. The shop's ambiance faded away, and only he and the staff remained. His fingers tightened around the grip, the leather creaking slightly. He didn't believe in fate, but the truth sat in front of him.

  Good

  “Yeah, yeah, stop fucking with me; tell me the real price!” A crooked, rugged voice spoke out from the cash register area.

  All the poor shopkeeper could do was plead with the man.

  Rushing to self-checkout, Elias paid for his staff, ignoring the price. it was too late to put it back. He quickly left the store, avoiding the bickering behind him. Elias decided it was time to wrap the night up and go home, play video games, and do anything but sleep. He put the staff on his back, wedging it between his backpack and his back. Hoping to look as tough and scary as possible, he fixed dark, dark brown hair. His boots scraped against the gravel, and his long coat swayed in the night, hiding his skinny, untoned physique. He knew his way around town almost subconsciously; he could flow through the crowds like they were frozen in time and the path was laid in front of him.

  Oblivious to the fact he'd taken a wrong turn, he continued on walking blind through the city. Before he had the chance to realize he was lost, he reached a dark alleyway. The city seemed to send mounds of people to enclose him.

  Footsteps behind him. Slow and deliberate.

  Nothing but dark figures.

  He turned again, his heart skipping a beat.

  The neon lights of a strip club flicker.

  Burnt hair.

  “You know that staff won't save you.” a man said, taunting him. A faint glow stirred in the already red eyes

  Elias stayed silent.

  What a bum.

  He tries to walk away, hoping it would be the end of it, but to his dismay, Bum stepped in front of him.

  “No, you don't,” Bum snarled, his smile growing larger.

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  Elias took another step back.

  His heart dropped further.

  He was beyond help now.

  Trying to diffuse the situation further, he made the mistake of putting his hands in front of him and slightly pushing Bum.

  Red and yellow sparks appeared in the air around the man, and licks of flames followed them.

  They really are demon-like, every damn one.

  The tall man pushed the stick down, making it scrape the ground.

  “Move.”

  Elias really hated being belittled, and what really ticked him off was that he wouldn’t back off. He usually hated hurting people, but it was too late to think about that as he had already lifted his staff off his back just enough to hit the guy on his head. The metal impact hummed in his core.

  As Bum stumbled back, Elias attempted to fully draw his staff, but it was too awkward of a position too. The more he pulled, the sweatier his hands got and the more time passed.

  By then, the crowd of shady people had already sensed the danger and, out of fear, cleared the area. A witness was the last thing somebody wanted to be.

  The thing Elias hated most about magic was how it twisted the user's face, taking away anything that made them human. Bum’s face was contorted, his eyes as bright as a cat’s in the night. Magic was truly evil in the sense that it was a drug anyone could use. From what Elias heard, it was euphoric in the moment; he could see that in the man's uncanny smile. It looked like the man's outline was being erased and redrawn by a toddler.

  Elias was left defenseless without his weapon drawn. His hands already behind his head like he was surrendering. His knees buckled in fear as orange and red flames hurled at him with a familiar speed.

  Again he's reminded of the evil that is magic.

  He barely had the chance to fling himself to the right wall of the alley out of the path of the flames. The aged brick staining his bag.

  Unholy.

  Before the flames could dissipate, Elias managed to get his bo staff off his back.

  He held the staff low like he just caught a bad throw. His left hand held the grip tightly, and his right hand helped the staff near the tip. The gilded edge lightly grazed the wet asphalt.

  Just then the man turned to face him.

  Fire.

  Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fawn, Flop

  Elias was cornered, and so he fought.

  He held his staff parallel to him, pushing through waves of flames.

  He closed his eyes and fought through the pain. Eventually wood hit flesh, and he was face-to-face with what could've been a demon.

  Elias continued pushing the man into the wall.

  The man's iridescent scars twisted shape as he grunted, but not a grunt of struggle.

  Bum's outline began to flutter aggressively, almost to the point he lost his solidness.

  Elias plummeted towards the wall as the man disappeared.

  His heart fell to his stomach.

  How?

  His forehead hit the wall, tearing skin.

  Burnt hair.

  The man's mouth opened wide. wider than it could be

  Fight, flight, freeze, fawn, flop.

  Elias froze, his eyes shutting involuntarily.

  Sofia.

  The adrenaline wore off just enough so he could feel the heat of the flames.

  His eyes opened for a split second, enough to see orange and yellow flashes of light all around.

  A slight sizzle filled the air. It was disturbingly pleasant

  The flames dissipated as Elias' view dropped closer to the ground.

  The smell of burnt hair and pork suddenly faded away. The air fell silent and empty, like the world had just been created again. Decay and rot filled the void

  A flash of red, and Bum's head jolted to the right. It stayed that way as he fell towards the ground.

  The magic, albeit demonic, left his eyes, and the air regained its quality.

  The man lay dead on the ground, blood pooling from his head. Just like that, the fight was over, but Elias hadn't won, not through wood and wit, no. Not through any type of magic he's seen before either.

  Holy Sh-

  “Nice work, kid.” A man's voice pierced the air.

  He recognized him as the hooligan from the shop. Elias stayed silent and shaking. Hooligan looked stronger than Elias and spoke as if the world was smaller than him. His posture was crooked but had strength in it, like he was happy with scoliosis. Hooligan’s hair was dry, black, and gray at the ends. His skin was tan and rough like sandpaper, and he had mischievous eyes, like some sort of gremlin. The man’s smile sent the same message.

  The burn mark on his jaw moved and twisted as he spoke, “Looks like you can handle yourself pretty well.” Hooligan’s smile widened, just a sliver. “Join my crew.”

  Elias’ mouth fell open in disbelief. He snapped back to reality and realized that this could’ve just been another glorified street gang, but something told him that maybe this could be what he’d been searching for.

  “What's your crew about? I'm curious.” Elias asked him, meeting his cold eyes.

  “Well, I'm aiming to kill Cain…”

  Elias’ shaking paused. Cain, the man who tore the Veil open, the reason the world had gone mad, and the reason magic existed. Elias’s heart thumped. This could be his chance to step into something bigger, bigger than him, bigger than the world. Those words, “Join my crew,” hadn’t been a question; they were a statement. He scrutinized Hooligan intently, trying to figure him out.

  Elias could run, sure, but then what? His life was over the moment the body dropped. Staying was worse than anything else this guy could offer. He drew a shaky breath, forcing strength into it.

  “…Fine,” Elias said, his voice quieter than he intended, “I’ll join your crew.”

  Hooligan’s grin widened; sharper now, he knew it’d go this way.