Rohaan raced down an empty passageway in full sprint shattering stone as his feet pounded the ground. Any minute now, the wales around him would turn to sand, the transformation caused by his own undisciplined focus.

He hadn't tried to use it when Brand restrained him, but during any struggle, just a hint of his mana always left the body. it wasn't a problem for most but for Rohaan's focus, very little went a very long way.

That usually wasn't a problem. In the past when he destroyed pavement or buildings, his family would just pay for it. They had more than enough gold laying around that no one even cared. As long as no one died and those affected paid, nothing came of his focus going wild, until now.

Rohaan’s enhanced speed betrayed him the second he found a dead end. He slammed into the wall cracking it with his resilient body before dropping to the ground. He quickly regained his footing and was about to start running again when the sound of crumbling stones caught his attention.

Rohaan sprinted away spreading the destruction with every footfall.

Unlike his sister, he could not map an area with his mana and If he tried, all stone in that area would wither away. So he ran creating more sand behind him until finding the sun just before the passageway collapsed behind him along with Mur.

Seeing the fortress-like wall crumble from the outside gave Rohaan almost as much dread as being under the structure. Someone would know this was his doing. Someone would be coming for him. He was going to die in a vellian prison for this. Mina would be all alone after this.

“Oh, shit, Mina!” Rohaan bellowed as he realized his sister was still inside the pit.

“Stay calm,” he thought. “I turn stone to sand; she makes stone and sand go away. She’ll be fine, angry, but fine.”

In the meantime, he had to make his way back home to collect everything he’d need to make a run for it. He could stay off the King’s Road by traveling through the forest. There were otherworldly beasts within it, but for a true warrior like himself, killing them should be simple. He might even reach the firth gate by the time he made it to some other country.

“Or,” Rohaan thought, his footsteps growing heavy. “Mina might be dead.”

If that were the case, he’d make his way back to Ram accepting his aunt’s offer upon the death of his last sister. He couldn't kill her himself as his aunt had wanted, but that might not matter anymore. Either way, he needed to pack his bags, so he started down the fastest path back home.

Soon, Rohaan learned his body was not as tough as he once thought. Painful bruises appeared across his torso given to him by the protesting walls he’d met and crumbled to nothing. Hobbled by the throbbing injuries, he took a seat at a tavern he'd started to frequent when a recently acquired friend made himself known.

“Rohaan, what were you doing last night? You look filthy,” said a cheerful man that pressed Rohaan into an embrace. The man then held Rohaan’s chin, moving it side to see every bruise on his face. “Who messed up your pretty face."

“Hello Godric,” Rohaan said.

He still didn’t have a firm enough grasp on the language to understand fast talkers like Godric, but the nobleman didn't seem to mind. The man was friendly and Rohaan suspected he had the same preferences in lovers.

“Well, what happened to that pretty face of yours?” Godric asked, hungry for a bit of gossip.

“The pits,” Rohaan answered.

Godric placed an arm around Rohaan's shoulders leading him to one of their more entertaining hangouts. “Don't tell me you got in the ring yourself and lost. Sorry about the face, but you’ve got to show me this beast that could fight you.”

Rohaan’s face dipped down in shame. “I was casual. No, um, hasty.”

“I think you mean careless,” Godric said.

“It was a man named Brand,” Rohaan admitted.

“Brandy, that beautiful chocolate man! Well next time I see him we’ll have ourselves a dance.”

Rohaan decided it would be best not to mention that Brand was most likely dead under a pile of rubble.

“Either way,” Godric continued. “Let’s go have a good time. I’ve got nowhere to be for the next several hours and a potion for those bruises. What do you say?”

loving men wasn't against the law in Vellia but neither was walking in the nude. it was just something you didn't do but somehow Godric knew every hidden tavern and brothel the city had to offer. The drink and flesh and company seemed all spin together that by the time Godric had to leave the sun had gone down and Rohaan was on the verge of emptying his stomach.

It was a fitting end to his possible last day in Vellia or Azmina would be home and angry. what he didn't expect to hear just outside his home was muffled screams.

He burst into the house and nearly fell as his wine-colored senses took in the scene.

What he found instead was Brand, the same Brand that had brought him to the ground was now at the center of a magic circle etched into the floorboards writhing in pain as his muscles visibly shifted under his dark skin.

Rohaan knew what had happened. he didn't need an explanation. it was as if he'd seen it all, the moment his sister found Brand and paid for him to learn magic, without his permission!

He stepped forward to stop the spell when it ended all on its own. A force like harsh wind passed Rohaan then quickly faded away leaving only silence.

Confusion held Rohaan's feet like chains. He'd expected an explosion of power like when he and every other magic user gained their power, but there was nothing. A blueish aura should have been swirling around Brand. There should have been a hum in the air as his magic pressed again his own perception. The runes etched into the floor should have glowed like firelight, still charged by the magic used in the ritual. But the room was quiet, the spell had failed, and Rohaan smiled until his eyes adjusted to the fire light illuminating the room.

Brand had been an imposing figure of muscle barely a contained violence like a drawn arrow ready to lash out. Now he'd shrunk, his body becoming lean and almost sickly. But his muscles, like tightly woven steel, promised power, and his glowing yellow eye held something that forced Rohaan back a step like a predator reading to capture its next meal.

“Princess,” Brand said heaving with exhaustion. His words came slowly, accurately pronouncing each syllable. “Can. I. Hurt. Him.”

Rohaan did not understand the words before his sister gave permission. “Hurt him, but don't kill him.”

Brand leaped like a charging wolf using all four limbs with a roar that shook the air. Rohaan backhanded him across his face sending the newly born cultivator stumbling onto his... feet?

Looking a bit surprised himself, Brand walked in closer with his arms out like he was about to give a hug with a great big blood-drenched smile. Rohaan didn’t panic. He put his hands up, controlled his breath, then sent a fist flying.

Rohaan barely saw what happened next. Brand dodge the incoming blow by a hair’s breadth, then at the same time sent his fist crashing into the noble's face. As soon as his attack connected, Brand punched again sending Rohaan stumbling back with blood jetting from his mouth.

Through a fog of pain, Rohaan threw a hooked punch but Brand just caught it on his arm and landed a blow with the other. Rohaan tried a kick but the soul of Brand’s foot met the attack. Brand answered with an uppercut that sent Rohaan’s head slamming into the roof. Before the beaten man hit the floor, a kick sent him flying into a wall.

Standing up, Rohaan trembled in fear. He couldn’t kill this man before he had magic, now, Brand was playing with him as if he were a child. He didn’t see the kick that broke his nose or the punch that broke his ribs.

His hopes quickly became that his abuser would grow tired and give up. Rohaan’s world had simply become agony itself with a few rests stops of simple pain when he was not being beaten. He soon stopped trying to attack. Whatever angle he tried, whatever strategy he used, Brand just countered and lay into him worse than before. He then heard words, from where he did not know.

“Get up,” whoever was speaking said. “They told me you're about to release your third gate. I’m at my first and you can’t even touch me.”

The words cut through Rohaan’s mind bringing clarity and rage. They carried him up, giving him the strength to stand. He would face the fight with his head held high.

Looking up at the giant in front of him almost stole the little resolve he had left. He felt so small in the presence of such a monster but that’s what makes a true warrior, fighting monsters no matter how terrifying.

Rohaan put every bit of strength and mana he had left into one last jab. It should have missed. It should have only hit the air, but to Rohaan’s surprise, it collided with his foe.

His adversary thought to take the blow, that using his arm to absorb the force was better than redirecting it for some unknown reason. Instead, the last thing Rohaan saw before he lost consciousness was Brand crashing into a wall.