Cars blared in frustration, wishing to fight against the busy traffic with anger and ire. People of all creed and colour walked the city streets towards unknown destinations ignoring everything that was of no concern to them. The only thing that concerned them was their own destination, any inconvenience to their narrow world view was pushed to the back of their mind and left to be forgotten. A physique that looked slightly off, be it a radiance in their eyes or nails that were just slightly too pointed. A creature that might have been a pigeon that permeated the cityscape or blue sparks erupting from a child's hands when clapping with glee.

This is how the Crown of Arcanis works, anything that might broaden the mind of an everyday citizen is ignored, or otherwise not seen. Within one of the tall buildings that was packed within the layout of the sprawling metropolis, was one of the many that were not restricted by the confines of their small vision, but were instead able to see past the Crown and live in the Violet Shade.

In one of the more dilapidated and run down of the buildings a young man sat cross legged on a swivel chair pouring over a leather-bound book.

“Ah fuck” he gently exclaimed, shaking his hand in pain.

He intently reread a portion of the book and shook his head, swivelling around he began to make his way to the large bookcase taking up a large portion of the small space in his abode.

The apartment was in complete disarray, books with strange arcana printed on the pages lay strewn about the floor and desk. On the opposite side of the room from where the desk sat, the entrance to the apartment stood tightly shut with many a manner of locks and chains keeping it secure. On a small standing table adjacent to a couch sat countless empty potion bottles with their corks strewn about the room. The young man scanned his bookcase with great expedition, running his finger along the spines.

“No, No, No” he would say as he deemed each of these texts unfit for use until finally he reached one of the many similar looking leather bound books at the top of the stack.

Alas it was out of reach, the man swiftly made some simple somatic hand gestures and the book flew down into his hand with a swish of blue energy. Without missing a beat this studious figure pried open and examined the contents of the tome. His finger traced each line until he found a strange diagram and nodded.

“Here we go” He mumbled to himself, stumbling over the clutter back to his desk.

Checking back and forth between the two books his hand vacantly searched around the table for a pen or pencil. Becoming slightly confused he looked and up his eyes found purchase on the object of his desire. The item jumped into his hand and he began to furiously copy the diagram into the first book while making slight adjustments from the secondary tome. He began to mutter incessantly.

“Diametric stabilizing positioning increases efficiency by…. 3%...but in the event of a mana flow disruption, efficiency halves?….no”. He brought the bottom of the pencil to his bottom lip and his brow furrowed before his eyes lit up.

“By using a contradictory maledict….” He trailed off and wrote with a vigor and excitement that matched the look he wore. Completing a line on the multidimensional runic figure, the young man was about to attempt the spell again but a rhythmic knock echoed from the front door.

The engrossed figure's head snapped around as a fear began to well up in his eyes. He stumbled trepidatiously to the front door and breathed a large sigh of relief as he peered through the peephole. The figure within knocked twice on the wall and the books once strewn about flew hurriedly into their neat positions on the bookcase, the open tome on the desk shutting with a heavy thump. The chains rattled loudly as the locks were undone. Slowly the door creaked open and he was met with a bright smile.

“Good Morning Kir” the visitor exclaimed.

“Is it morning?” He asked, straining his eyes against the light of the hallway, the only illumination within his apartment were floating orbs of light that popped when he knocked on the wall.

The figure who was now seen to be a young woman made a concerned smile and shook her head. She glanced at the state of the man but quickly averted her eyes into the hallway.

“Aaand you’re not wearing pants” She said, her eyes firmly fixed at the window on the very end of the hallway. The man now identified as Kir glanced down to his boxers and spoke.

“Oh my bad, sorry” He said, making his way to a door to the left of his desk.

“Come in, and close the door” he continued once he had made his way into his small bedroom.

An unused bed with a dresser to its right sat in the center of the room with a door to the bathroom on to the left. Kir scanned the room for a pair of pants but found nothing, until his eyes wandered to the interior of the bathroom, a clean-ish pair of sweatpants was sitting on the floor. He approached them and quickly glanced back to the door, muttering some words under his breath making some hand motions, a strong wind and water assaulted the clothing and cleaned it in an instant.

As he stood up and pulled on his pants he glanced at his countenance in the mirror and winced. Twenty maybe. A complete mess of shoulder-length dirty blond hair, eyes blue and bloodshot. But with a strange tinge in them, a pair of large round spectacles sitting on his nose. Deep, Deep eyebags complimented the stubble that had begun to take shape on his face. He wore a green sweatshirt and now, black sweatpants. A practiced flick found his hair tied up.

The sounds of blinds being drawn lured him back to the main room. Once again, Kir brought his hands up against the light of day and sat heavily on the blue couch that faced the bookcase.

“What brings you here?” He queried, glancing at the girl.

“Just checking on a friend” she responded, taking respite on the desk that Kir previously sat on.

Kir gently reclined along the couch only now realizing his physical state as the burn in his eyes began to set in. The woman gestured to the empty potion bottles, as she did a slight, almost imperceptible blue tinge shone in her eyes.

“Been self-medicating?” She asked, a look of genuine concern.

“That's not…I don’t….sure, just a bit” her perceived truth was far easier than explaining reality. Inspecting Kir’s general physical wellbeing the girl followed through with her questioning.

“When was the last time you slept” Kir looked off and began to think

“What's today?”

“Tuesday” She said, mounting concern in her tone.

“Friday” He said after some quick calculations. The girl remained silent for a few seconds.

“Amber?” Eventually she spoke up.

“Kiri, you’re an adult you can’t spend your nights reading and drinking”

“You can't,” he responded, sitting up onto the couch properly. Kir’s eyes suddenly widened as realization flooded his mind.

“What date is it?” Sudden haste in his voice.

“The 3rd, why?” Kir groaned and got up off the couch stumbling his way into the bedroom. Water suddenly began to patter against tiles after a knob was squeaked with a turn.

“I’ve got some things that I have to do today,” he shouted from within the bathroom, hurriedly undressing.

“Work things?” She asked, pulling out her phone.

“Some of them” He acknowledged, a mounting dread realizing the plight he was soon to be put under. Kir took a short shower and stumbled out, mage handing a pair of clothes from the cupboard seeing the bedroom door was closed.

“I’m gonna head home” She said, her thumbs flying across the touch screen.

“Do you still live on Stillman street?” Kir asked, pulling on a fresh t-shirt.

“No, I just moved in with Andrew” she said absently. Kir paused for a second to think.

“He lives right on Morthon drive right?“

“Yeah in the Gallows District”. Opening the door, Kir straightened out a hoodie and smiled.

“Perfect, I'm headed that way as well, Now where is…” His eyes scanned the room until they finally landed on a brown, frayed canvas backpack resting in a corner of the room. Scooping it up, Kir wandered into what was called a kitchen but barely had a functioning stove top in the room to the right of his desk.

On the countertop a small silver ring sat solitary. Kir picked it up and inspected it, gently putting some magic into it, invisible runes on the interior and exterior began to glow then faded as he withdrew his mana.

“Perfect” He muttered, tossing it into his backpack, he turned, opening the upper cupboards of the kitchen, shoving his hand into them until his hand found purchase on a cold metal object.

Pulling it down revealed a small yet incredibly ornate scabbard holding a beautifully crafted black dagger with the initials L.S carved onto the hilt in gold script. Taking out the dagger to inspect it for any chips or damage during the process revealed a flawless blade. He threw that into the backpack again before making his way into the main room and stowing away his spellbook. The spellbook, unlike the other leather bound tomes in his home, was of much higher quality with gold frames holding each corner and a hard cover protecting the high quality vellum within. Kir patted down his pockets and found his phone placed within the clutter of the potion bottles on the table.

“Need some more Desideratum drafts” he mumbled softly, ensuring that Amber was out of earshot.

“You ready?” she asked patiently.

“Almost” Kir responded, making his way back to his bedroom. In a small locked drawer below within the bedside table a collection of small potion bottles holding a brackish grey liquid swirled inside the drawer. Kir let out a small sigh and packed two gently into his backpack before closing and locking the drawer.

“I’m ready, Let’s go”

“You sure you got everything” Amber jabbed half sarcastically. Kir nodded and smiled innocently. Amber scoffed.

“Don’t do that”

“Do what?” a completely oblivious response.

“That thing you…never mind” she dismissed, waving her hand. The two made their way out of the apartment. As Kir locked the door, while Amber was looking away he traced a small reverse L shape on the door with his middle and index finger, an arcane lock setting on the threshold.

“How’s uni” the conversation started up as they stood by the elevator.

“Not too bad, I joined a lot of clubs when I started there but I don’t think I’ve been to a single meeting for the two years I’ve been there. I don’t think there’s been a single night at the school where there wasn’t a party or rave somewhere. It's really hard to study so I ended up moving in with Drew to avoid going to all of them.” Kir nodded with a facade of understanding, his role here was to lend an ear.

The two had known eachother since childhood, Amber played the role of the boisterous defender, getting into scraps with other students and excitedly playing make believe with her in charge. Kir, or to Amber, Kiri sat behind her, not necessarily meek but certainly quiet. Kir would seek her protection when getting bullied and she was more than happy to jump to his rescue, he was always bookish, even as a kid.

By the time highschool came around Amber quickly became enveloped in a deluge of friends with her sociable nature, Kir didn’t mind, he was happy by himself, but the two still remained good friends, Kir was happy to lend an ear when it was needed and Amber used her social standing to, though it didn’t always work, keep bullies and shitheads off his back. Kir’s frequent fear in social situations did make him a target, and it didn’t help that it got worse as he aged.

“Ah yes, the ever elusive Andrew, when do I get a chance to meet him”. Amber paused for a second.

“Clash of the titans that would be, I think he’s your antithesis more so then I am. Though I am curious what that interaction would look like”.

“What? you think I can’t bro down with your boyfriend?”. Amber raised an eyebrow.

“You barely know him, he’s really sweet”

“I’m sure he is, I never claimed otherwise” Kir shrugged to accentuate.

“Besides I don’t think you’ve ever done anything remotely bro-ish in your life”.

“How dare you…” Kir was trying to formulate a comeback but his train of thought grinded to a halt when they came to the run-down front door of the building. The chatter of people walking about, yelling, having conversations pierced its way through the wood of the door causing Kir to freeze up immediately.

“Will you manage?” she asked, deep concern in her voice. Kir grabbed one of the corked bottles from his bag and took it like a shot.

“What’s that?” Kir stayed silent for a second.

“Medicine...kind of”

“Does it work?”

“Temporarily, lets go” Kir put up an extremely thin veneer of confidence despite the tears that were quickly welling in his eyes and his heart that pounded in his ears.

The draught took a few moments to take effect but it slowly brought his heart rate down and he was able to maintain a small bit of composure. Amber tracked Kir’s movement down the stairs into the street with a mix of worry and sympathy but eventually followed after hoping to be of some help if any.