It was always going to turn out like this, Prospero thought.

  Aldruag made no effort to hide the difference in speed between them. He was glacial, but the range of his warhammer and the strength with which he wielded it offered Prospero a quick road to the afterlife if he wasn’t careful. Unlike before, he wasn’t staring down a beast. The opponent in front of him was a man who thought and moved with all the wiles men were known to possess.

  “I’ve seen more blood than you could ever know, lad,” Aldruag’s voice reserved no excitement for the fight. “Warring is a waste of life. Live yours elsewhere.”

  Prospero advanced. “That Voidbeast is my only way to escape this realm.”

  “If a dip in the Incandescence is what you fancy, then I’d tell you to bugger off and evacuate like everyone else,” he paused. “...But I can tell from that look in your eyes that it wouldn’t be enough.”

  “The Vampire approaching this Port is searching for me,” Prospero replied. “Anyone accompanying me on my way out would be endangering themselves. I’ve already dragged too many into this affair of mine.”

  They drew close. Prospero kept his eyes on the warhammer, preparing to dodge at the first sign of movement, but found himself recalling the day before his father’s death, when the two of them had crossed rapiers for the final time. His eagerness to react had lost him the match to a feint that day. Aldruag was likely to attempt something similar, especially with a heavier weapon.

  “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate.” Aldruag settled both hands on the handle and gripped until the sensation in his fingers became dulled. “-But this isn’t a charity. Me and the boys have laboured too long to have this Voidbeast stolen from us.”

  The rest of the pen’s occupants had now gathered to witness the commotion, most of them armed with clubs or short blades. “We’ll handle this one, boss,” one of them shouted. “You don’t need to put yourself on the line!”

  “Don’t you dare try,” Aldruag shot a glare in his direction. “He’s only a youngling, this one. No need to kill him, and I don’t trust any of you to hold back. I’ll give him a knock around the ears and that’ll be the end of it. He’s not here to kill us, for goodness’ sake.”

  “But… but he’s-”

  “Be quiet and watch,” Aldruag broke eye contact. “This’ll be over in a spell.”

  Prospero hadn’t expected the leader of a gang to be so merciful, but he had not learned anything of the Sunflowers beyond scathing word of mouth. He wondered for a moment if they were indeed criminals at all, or just a peeling conglomerate of folk down on their luck and out of options. In that way, they wouldn’t be so different from Alto.

  “Oi, Baptista,” Aldruag called. “The least you can do in a brawl is pay attention.”

  He made his move, having closed the few steps between them. His warhammer swung up from a low angle, but Prospero knew better than to trust his opponent’s commitment. He made no effort to dodge, pleased to see the weapon’s momentum coming to a halt just before it entered an unstoppable surge. Aldruag expected him to react, but was now left with seconds until he could hoist the hammer again - the perfect chance for a counterattack.

  Prospero trusted in the strength bestowed by the Beastblood and lunged forward to strike with a closed fist, surprised to find the blow avoided with a duck. Aldruag spun his heels and revealed his back. The warhammer trailed in a perfect circle along the ground as he dodged, spinning up for a reverse swing aimed right at Prospero’s head. The wicked lump of steel was inches from his temple by the time he could react.

  [Canine] Form Activated

  Finesse (+50%) / Beasthood (+15%)

  His posture shrunk, and the hammer whiffed. A thirst pulsed through his body, reminding him of the sorry state he had found himself in after escaping Innsworm. I can’t shapeshift anymore, he thought. If my Beasthood increases any further, I won’t be able to control myself.

  “Wha-” Aldruag struggled to follow-through on his strike, having expected to feel the rumble of bone shattering under the weight of his hammer. “Oof… think I pulled a muscle…”

  Prospero wouldn’t have thought to pounce right away, but a foul cunning imparted by his Beasthood drove him to commit acts that weren’t entirely his own. The [Ability] he’d acquired from increasing his grade augmented the bestial leap with incredible speed - more than enough to pin the much larger Aldruag to the ground in his moment of weakness.

  The man’s neck was exposed. If Prospero so desired, he could have ended the warrior’s life in a flash. The sumptuous tang of fresh blood lingered on his tongue from the rat and drove him to imagine how exquisite it would feel to feed from a living human. Only a sliver of humanity piercing through the darkness convinced him otherwise.

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  “Oi! Get the fuck off him, you damnable monster!”

  A shoe ripped into his flank, and he fell limp with a whine. The others were now upon him, scrambling to defend their opulent leader. Prospero could only curl up and twitch as steel-toed boots rained upon him, crushing any hope of retaliation. He was winded, overwhelmed, paralyzed by pain and the sudden fear of death.

  Then there was a break in the assault; the wild shattering of glass; a scream of pain. The Sunflowers turned their attention to one of their own, who gripped the back of his head and fell to his knees in agony. The source of the bottle now shattered and spilled on the soil was a silhouette near the entrance, where streaks of light danced through cloud-blotting Voidbeasts in the skies. “Don’t harm a hair on that lad’s head, you dirty mongrels!” the man yelled.

  “Huh…” Aldruag, still reeling from the pounce, stumbled to his feet. “That you, Alto?”

  The drunkard stumbling into the pen didn’t appear heroic in the least. “You’re damn right it’s me!” he continued. “That stupid brat… what the fuck did he think was going to happen, barging right in like he owns the place…?”

  “Fuck off, Alto!” a Sunflower bellowed. “You’ve got no business in here!”

  “Shut up!” he drew his sleeve over his nose and sniffed. “Where do you get off ganging up on a young man!? You’ll kill the poor bastard if you’re not careful!”

  “Hoh, hoh - alright. Let’s calm down.” Aldraug took a deep breath. “Lads - get off him!”

  The Sunflowers hesitated, but soon dispersed. Prospero’s lupine form remained curled up on the floor, trapped on the verge of unconsciousness.

  “Take your bloodthirsty pet and get out of here, Alto,” Aldruag ordered. “-And if I ever catch you here again, I won’t be letting you off with a warning. You understand? We had a deal.”

  “Yeah, that’s… that’s what you’d like to tell yourself, isn’t it?” Alto replied. “But you all knew what you were doing back then, spotting my tab just to steal Victima away from me… you had no right to take her! That Voidbeast is my livelihood!”

  “You’ve been drying up the taps of this Port since long before any of us arrived! I don’t believe for a second that you ever planned to return to this supposed ‘livelihood’ of yours, or that it even existed to begin with!” Aldraug waved his hand dismissively. “If you won’t put it to use, then we will. Better than letting the beast rot in its pen!”

  Alto stumbled and closed the distance between them. He was red-faced and blind with rage, but there was genuine conviction beneath his eyes which had long been sedated by the drink. He pointed towards Prospero. “This brat came in demanding this and that of me… I turned him away, but he wouldn’t give up… didn’t throw so much as a curse my way no matter how poorly I treated him. Couldn’t help but realise just how sour I’d become in my woes… just how far I’d dived into the bottle… reminded me of a certain someone. Now I’m here and pepped up on five-and-a-half glasses of Dakriol Fireglow, and I’ve decided that I’ll die before I let a band of homeless brigands take Victima!”

  “If you knew the first thing about us, you wouldn’t be so quick to lash out!” Aldraug yelled. “Now get out of my face! Your breath stinks to the Long Wilds!”

  A quick shove displaced them and sent Alto crumpling to the ground. He landed with a tired groan, the fire not quite gone from his eyes even as the hopelessness of the dream began to settle in. “Shit…” he cursed.

  Something about his fall triggered a reaction from the Voidbeast looming above their confrontation. A droning, like a cat’s purr, loud enough to damage the eardrums, rattled the pen and forced most of the Sunflowers to cover their ears. Victima's skinny legs brought her close to the enormous wooden gate confining her and splintered straight through the barrier without meeting a shred of resistance. From the scaffolding above, a man’s voice could be heard screaming, “She’s free! Gods above - she’s free! Get out of the fucking way!”

  The Sunflowers parted to make way for the beast, pressing themselves up against the furthest walls of the pen to avoid being crushed. Aldruag toyed with the idea of brandishing his greathammer at the beast, but leapt just the same when it came roaring by. Victima screeched to a halt just short of Alto’s position, lowering her head to examine him while he rose unsteadily to his feet and marvelled, free of terror, at the Voidbeast’s presence. “Victima,” he muttered. “I can’t believe it… you still recall this sullen bastard’s face? Even after I abandoned you of my own will… you would still come to my aid?”

  Prospero regained enough lucidity to return to his human form. Impossible though it seemed, the fresh bruises stamped on his face were already beginning to heal. He licked the blood from his lips and didn’t find it nearly as appetising as that belonging to beasts. He was captured in Victima’s silhouette, only a few feet away from being impaled by one of her many legs. It was impossible to appreciate the scope of such a creature from any angle.

  He limped to the pen’s entrance, where Alto was standing on his toes and caressing the Voidbeast’s carapace. “I’ve been such a terrible fool, Victima…” he said. “I abandoned everything for a fleeting pleasure in the bottle… even now, I feel the temptation to wander off and lose myself in another glass…”

  “Alto?” Prospero blinked in no small part thanks to the sunlight filtering in through the entrance.

  “Hah… look at you,” the man cast a pitying glance his way. “All battered and bloody. What did you think was going to happen, you blowhard?”

  “...I said I was going to get your Voidbeast back, didn’t I?” he replied.

  “-And look where that got you! It’s a good thing I came around, else these brigands would have left you out in the sun to turn to ash!” Alto sniffed. “You just had to go and force my hand, didn’t you? Honestly… Gaspar would have killed me if I’d left his own son for dead.”

  A bellowing chirp from Victima punctuated his words. “See?” he patted her forelegs. “She thinks so, too.”

  “You can understand it?” Prospero asked.

  “About as well as I can understand a Realmstone, or the Celestial Winds - which is to say, a whole awful lot,” he nodded and furrowed his brow. “...But that was ever so long ago, Baptista.”

  “-And so it will be again,” Prospero finished. “If you haven’t forgotten, I’m still in need of a Starseeker to get me off this realm.”